Fatal Attraction | D.M. (Soft Rewrite)

Chapter Forty-One - Interrupted

'No bloody way!'

'Honestly Flint – ask anyone.'

'Bullshit!'

'I heard it too-'

'-Oh fuck off Goyle!'

Draco didn't know who to murder first. Maybe Nott for instigating the argument...or Flint for taking the bait...or Goyle for just existing.

I'll take my time torturing Blaise. Then, I'll have the dormitory to myself...or a cell in Azkaban. But either way – at least I won't have to wake up to this useless racket.

His senses were dulled by a bad night's sleep, but vengeance was the plan.

It was impossible to escape their voices - with nothing but curtains separating Draco and his uncivilised roommates. He could hear every stupid word and petty remark.

He was annoyed with himself for ever being considerate. For ever whispering in the morning or tiptoeing to bed. While they're ridiculously loud and careless!

Between the harsh shouting, there was a gigantic thud. And by the sound of it - Flint's temper had finally boiled over. Meaning Nott had been tackled to the ground.

Draco overheard a mixture of grunts and limbs repeatedly hitting the floor. Then, Goyle's words of encouragement and Nott's persistent goading.

The argument was fast approaching its crescendo and Draco wanted nothing to do with it. He wasn't willing to help diffuse the tension or tell the childish pair to stop.

It'll be a few poorly landed punches and they'll be back to normal...running off to breakfast, like nothing happened.

Nott and Flint's bickering always followed the same route, no matter the subject. It could be about who was smarter - or more handsome - or more devoted to Quidditch training. Ultimately, it meant nothing.

But because they never resolved their issues or agreed, they were always one cross word away from a fight.

But it's the weekend - they must have better plans than wrestling on the floor! Actually...scratch that.

It's probably Nott's favourite way to kickstart the day. Making Flint his first choice, since he's quick to react and equally sharp tongued.

Blaise would quite easily overpower Nott, which makes for an unfair fight. And Goyle's a useless opponent. He performs every hex incorrectly, so you have to avoid duelling.

And he knows better than to fucking challenge me. I could beat him on both fields – with magic, or not.

But I'm rarely his target because he prefers getting under my skin. He likes mocking me to the point where I'm uncomfortable – but not so badly that I resort to violence.

Although maybe todays a different story.

Most onlookers would presume the boys weren't fond of one another. But they'd be wrong. They were like brothers, not friends. Family not companions. Although we disowned Goyle years ago...and Blaise more recently.

The medley of thoughts waltzing round his head were interrupted by a stomach-churning sound. A sickening snap, akin to a branch breaking. Timed to a perilous scream of agony from Flint that rang loud - piercing Draco's ears - before stopping short.

There was no ambiguity. Something had gone terribly wrong.

Rolling his eyes as he lay still, Draco actually debated whether they deserved his help. But he wasn't given an option. Catching a snippet of conversation - between shouting and deep wailing - he heard, 'I'll get Draco,' from a very worried sounding Nott.