"I'm fine, O!" I exclaim as Onyx grabs my arm, trying to help me to sit.
"Madam Pomphrey told you to take it easy," Onyx retorts.
"Pomphrey can suck my-"
"Oi! Madam Pomphrey is a lovely lady!" Theo exclaims through gritted teeth, glaring at me over the top of his book.
"Theodore, stop being so goddamn crotchety!" I say, slamming my own book open.
Theodore and Blaise have both been like this all fucking morning.
Because besides the N.E.W.T. exams happening in a matter of weeks, today is the final Slytherin match of the year, against Hufflepuff.
"I already have fucking N.E.W.T.s to worry about, and now fucking Zacharias Smith-"
"Theo, just shut up about it already!" Blaise exclaims, looking up from his studying.
Instead of pre-gaming like they always do, the Quidditch team came down in the very early hours of the morning to study. That's all we've been doing lately, really. Blaise and Theo even wear their Quidditch uniforms as we sit at the table, trying to cram in some last minute work before the match.
Crabbe and Goyle are sitting on the couches, and they aren't even studying, really. They're sitting in their uniforms, books open, but Crabbe has conjured little paper birds and is swirling them idly around his head, and Goyle is chewing on the end of his quill, zoning out into the fire.
And Draco isn't here.
After the other night when I stayed in the boy's dorms, where we both were lulled to sleep staring at each other's faces, he's immediately returned to brooding, picking fights with Forest creatures, and busting out the walls of his dormitory.
According to Blaise, the cuts that he procured yesterday evening were a result of smashing his fist through the mirror above his dresser.
And he's currently in the hospital wing, getting them stitched up before the match.
I think falling asleep to my face made it all so much worse. I had fallen asleep first, my eyes drooping until I couldn't hold them open anymore.
It hadn't been hard to fall asleep. Draco was right there and since I had my eyes on him, I could sleep soundly, I could breathe, for the first time since I opened the seal of Narcissa's letter. Because I knew he wasn't out doing anything stupid or reckless or harmful to himself. He was safe, and therefore I was safe to rest.
And when I finally closed my eyes completely, Draco had still been wide awake, looking at me through the darkness.
He hadn't been there when I woke up.
That was days ago. And ever since, I've barely seen him at all. Because he's stopped hanging out in the common room and therefore, he's stopped seeing Parkinson.
I promised Blaise I wouldn't become a murderer, four weeks before the N.E.W.Ts. And that's the only reason I haven't sought Pansy out for revenge. She hasn't been expelled, only given detention every Friday and Saturday for the remainder of the year. A pureblood perk, I expect.
When Onyx found out what Pansy did, she wanted to help me bury the body. When Theo found out, I think it completely solidified his disdain for her. And Blaise is only keeping calm about it to keep me calm, I suppose.
And I guess Draco's mad, too.
The result of her attack, the gashes that cover my torso and my arms, are healed over. And thanks to some very skillful work by the lovely Madam Pomphrey, I don't even think they'll scar.
YOU ARE READING
Fuckboy {Draco Malfoy 18+}
Fanfiction"You want to know what I taste like?" I say, leaving my mouth slightly open. I can feel Malfoy's breath on my lips. He doesn't answer, but his breath hitches as he looks down. "You really want to know?" "Just do it," Malfoy barks. "So I can have som...
