"Black," an icy voice snipped, the coolness of Draco Malfoy's tone cutting through the bustling ambiance of the corridor like a sharply drawn blade. He stepped forward, arms crossing over his chest, his pale hands steadying Gemini's distressed figure, which trembled slightly beneath the weight of her emotions. "Where the bloody fuck did you come from?"
Silver met ultramarine in a fierce clash of gazes, the intensity palpable as the color of the girl's irises flickered with surprise and indignation. She stumbled back, hastily expelling herself from the suffocating substratum of the moment, as reality crashed back around her. "It's Lupin-Black," she automatically corrected, her wording a defensive barrier, brushing at her eyes in a futile attempt to stem the tears that threatened to spill over like fragile glass tipping to the edge of a table, "And like I'd tell you, Malfoy."
The Slytherin Prince regarded her with a skeptical nod, his silver-blonde hair gleaming under the flickering torches hung on the stone walls, a perfect match to the tension decorating the air between them. Though moisture glistened behind those piercing silver eyes, her narrowed gaze remained fixed and defiant. No matter how hurt she felt, she would not relinquish knowledge of the secret passageway or the enchanting invisibility cloak that had allowed her to materialize just moments before in front of Draco Malfoy.
"Look," she quipped after a beat of silence that felt heavier than a thunderstorm, "If, um—if you're attempting to formulate the best taunt known to mankind or, well, womankind...can I suggest a raincheck? Perhaps tomorrow? Not that you alone could thoroughly demolish my confidence; I don't want your ego boosted. But my best friend just... Never mind. Like you'd want to hear about that. So, tomorrow morning? Breakfast time? Great. See you then, Malfoy."
Though as she moved to step around him, Draco's hand shot out, encircling her wrist with an iron grip that promised to obstruct her leave. Frustration surged through her. This was how it was to be, apparently. "Malfoy," she grumbled, her voice filled with exasperation as she attempted to retrieve her wrist from his grasp. "The plan is to pulverize each other tomorrow. I assumed the exiguous brain cells you did inherit would lead you to comprehend that to some measure. Merlin, that presumption now falls on me for believing all descendants of Black held some bit of wit. Just, fuck. Let. Me. Go. What're you—"
"What did Saint Potter do?" Malfoy hissed, his expression darkening like a storm cloud gathering overhead, a glower etched onto his features as he scrutinized the girl before him.
"What?," Gemini questioned, pausing her escape, confusion evident in the furrow of her brow.
"I asked," he pressed, glancing around them as caution gripped his features, ensuring that no prying eyes were near, "What did Potter do? Tell me."
Now, standing in the presence of her distant cousin, she felt the weight of the day groan under the turmoil of their past encounters. Even amidst all the harrowing events that had unfolded this term alone, she couldn't shake the sense of disbelief that she'd never thought she'd be having an earnest conversation with Draco Malfoy. "Who said it was Potter? And, more importantly, why the fuck do you want to know?," she snapped back, her eyes narrowing, suspicion crackling like static electricity between them.
Malfoy huffed and rolled his eyes in vexation, as if her refusal to answer him was beneath him. "Please. I assumed the exiguous brain cells you did inherit would help you comprehend to some measure that the inhabitants of Hogwarts view how close you and Potter are. Not a soul is dense enough to believe you two aren't the best of friends. Besides that, the fact that you alone have just referred to him as Potter... it says a lot."
"Well, that is his name. Is it not?," the Gryffindor huffed, finally wriggling her wrist free from Malfoy's grasp, the irritation swirling within her like a tempest. "And do not use my own words against me."
YOU ARE READING
SABAISM | H. POTTER
FanfictionSABAISM (noun) : The worship of stars. For centuries, people have looked up to the stars and became instantaneously bewitched due to the pinpricks of light. Such an enigma they are, burning bright in the darkest of atmospheres. Never snuffed by the...
