Birdie

Chapter 6

Draco's POV:

My knuckles bled crimson the night of the party. If you could even call it a party. It was more like a ten-year-old's gathering. Truth or dare? What are we? Six? The pain came in throbbing waves but my bruised hand was the least of my worries.

Who does the Dark Lord think I am? The guy who killed JFK? Oh yeah, Draco. Go back to school and murder your headteacher!

Sleep was fleeting. Dark purplish grey rings stained the skin underneath my eyes basically screaming out to everyone 'Hey this guy is planning to kill Dumbledore!' How is that even possible? He's like the most powerful man in the world. My so-called 'mission' was constantly on my mind. It was like an anchor threatening to pull me below the sea at any given moment.

"Draco, pass the ginger root." Blaise's voice sucked me out of my mental cage. I zoned back into the lesson. I reached for the beige stick-looking thing before passing it to Blaise without so much as glancing at him.

"You look rough, Malfoy." Crabbe blurted out with little interest in what he was actually saying. I turned my head in his direction to see him not even watching me. He was stirring the cauldron without a care in the world. Must be nice not to have the stress of killing the headteacher. Wonder what that's like.

Goyle's eyes grew wide at Crabbe's comment. He connected his elbow to his stomach to get him to cut it out.

"Thanks." I managed through gritted teeth. I blinked rapidly to try and wake myself up more. Safe to say that failed. A low breath escaped me as my fingers ran through the messy strands of my light hair.

"What was that fight with McLaggen about?" Blaise enquired when I positioned my chin on my hand. Even thinking about that sad excuse of a boy made my blood run hotter through my veins.

My jaw clenched and I answered with silence to Blaise.

It was the three bottles of fire whiskey and two vodka shots I had that made me punch him. At least, that's what I've been trying to tell myself. Truthfully, I don't know what happened. I was already annoyed enough at Violet for making me answer that stupid truth that it was only natural for me to punch someone. Right?

The way those stupid people in the room cheered when McLaggen went in to kiss Violet almost made bile force its way up my throat. Whether she wanted the kiss or not I just couldn't let it happen. Thinking of anyone shoving their tongue down her throat truly made me blind with rage. When McLaggen's slimy hand slid around her waist I couldn't just sit there and watch.

Not when I had touched her waist first.

Oh, Violet, Violet, Violet.

Goyle was unfortunately speaking again so I once again zoned back into the lesson. Hell, I didn't even know what the potion we were making was.

I watched as Crabbe poured a liquid of some sort into the cauldron. Could this be any more boring? It was basically the same thing every potions lesson.

Getting even more bored, I found my gaze moving to the other side of the classroom until they locked on a familiar set of warm eyes. I've hated those eyes for years. Why am I suddenly thinking of them as warm?

My body heated as Violet met my eyes. Her's perked up at the attention. She was hard to read but I could tell she was confused. Why wouldn't she be? I literally threw a punch at the guy she was going to kiss and paid for her stuff on the same day.

While Violet continued to look at me questionably from across the room, someone standing a few feet away from her called her name. Violet averted her eyes from mine and then looked up at a tall boy with short brown hair who had obviously called for her.