Obliviate {Draco Malfoy}

Chapter 11 | Part three

Draco's P.O.V

"Oi! Malfoy!" Blaise's voice snapped me out of my trance for at least the hundredth time since we got to the party. I glared at him, raising a brow.

"What, Blaise?" I growled, quite annoyed at his persistence to hounder me.

"What's with the long face, mate? We're at a party" He said, bringing the red cup to his lips, sipping on his whisky. I rolled my eyes, returning my gaze towards the one person I've been too busy watching for the last thirty minutes.

"I'm not in the mood" I answered drily, resting my back on the couch as I crossed my arms against my chest. The colored lights are annoying the shit out of me, and the choice of music blasting against my ear is truly atrocious. You can just tell this lame excuse of a party was thrown by Gryffindors.

If it were up to me, I would've gotten the fuck out of here a whole twenty nine minutes ago. In fact, I wouldn't have shown up at all. But of course, I'm here for a reason, a dirty blonde haired reason.

"You've got an admirer, three o'clock" Blaise smirked from beside me, motioning his head towards a random corner of the dance floor. God, I wish he'd shut the fuck up for once. He's already talker without alcohol, give him a drop of whisky and he won't stop going on and on about useless shit.

I peered my eyes off Isabelle for a few seconds, looking over at a random girl, who moved her hips far too aggressively as she glued her eyes directly on me. I let out a discussed scoff, shaking my head.

"Fuck off, Blaise" I said, returning my gaze to the only girl I'm interested in watching. She sat three tables away from ours, leaning close to an obviously shit faced Potter as he whispered something into her ear. Under my scolding eyebrows, I noticed her blush, before getting a little too giggly at whatever he said.

"Oh come on, mate! When was the last time you got laid?" Blaise asked through the god awful music that equaled to the sound of nails on a chalkboard. I'm truly beginning to contemplate wether I should spell his lips shut or not. He won't let me watch Isabelle in peace, and it's getting quite annoying.

"That's none of your bloody business" I snapped, sending him a deadly glare in hopes of shutting him up. He let out a drunken chuckle, taking another sip of his drink.

"I'm just saying, you've got plenty of brilliant choices to get it on with...look, you've got that brunette who won't stop looking at you, or maybe that platinum blonde one, she seems talented" He pointed at different girls swaying their hips on the dance floor, a smirk evident on his face. I took a deep breath, reminding myself of all the reasons why it would be a bad idea to punch him in the jaw.

He must be blind at this point, it's fucking obvious I'm not interested in a word he's saying, yet he won't stop bloody talking. He knows why I'm here, I told him, I told all of them for the sole purpose of not having them bothering me with bullshit like this. I should've known once Blaise got drunk, it would be completely useless.

Maybe if I actually tell him the whole truth he'll stop being so fucking annoying. I mean, he only thinks I'm here to watch Grimaldi under Dumbledore's orders, which isn't exactly a lie. I am here to watch her because Dumbledore asked me to, that part I'm not the slightest bit ashamed to admit. However, I'm also here because I'm an arrogant son of a bitch who couldn't stand the idea of Isabelle being in a party while I had no knowledge of what she was up to.

I'm not here to make my presence known to her (unless required to of course), I'm here to witness every single thing she does for myself so I don't have to live with the agony of not knowing about her life. I know she'll probably stay put on that couch for the rest of the night, if not most of the party. But I just want to make sure of it. I want to make sure she doesn't go off with some prick, I want to be sure she behaves.