Friday's Child // Draco Malfoy

20

The next day was a Friday, and though she wasn't sure if Draco would even come, she still ventured down to their spot by the lake - it had been her spot first; she'd been going there since first year. After her final lesson of the day she wandered the path she was so familiar with, but with an alien unease. She was beyond apprehensive. Her heart beat heavily against her ribcage, fluttering and palpating, sweat pooling on her palms as she nervously wrung them together, chewing the skin of her lips until they bled. As she felt the blood drip she lifted her finger up, wiping the tip delicately against her bottom lip, remembering the ghost of Draco's mouth against hers, remembering how hot his breath felt as it fanned against her, so, so closely. Her lips had tingled ever since - not at all satiated with the way things were left. She wanted to kiss him. Really kiss him. That thought alone quadrupled her anxiety. 

She had an agonising wait ahead of her. Draco always came down later, as he did not have free periods in the afternoon. Thus, she had over an hour to sit and stew with her thoughts, to dwell on her perturbation. All she wanted was for him to be there, to catch that Draco Malfoy swagger, the one that reeked of aristocracy, confidence and importance, and to have him shoot her that Draco Malfoy smirk, to steal her joint from her in the way that Draco Malfoy did, to laugh and joke with her and have everything be normal. But, if she knew Draco Malfoy, and she was quite sure she did, that would not be happening. If he even came, he would be cold, angry, and unforgiving. When it came to Harry Potter, Draco was unrelenting. 

She distracted herself by smoking, and playing with Ladon until he curled up to sleep in her lap, purring contentedly as she ran her fingers through his fur. Then she turned to homework, deciding to complete her essay on the history of Venomous Tentacula for herbology. Luckily, this occupied her for quite some time, getting lost in the pages of her textbooks, and flicking through old editions of the Quibbler for any extra information - Juno was always studious, she loved to learn, homework was never really a chore for her, she found most of her subjects relatively interesting. She huffed as her essay came to a close, realising she'd been at it for hours and Draco hadn't yet emerged through the trees. Her eyes cast out on the lake, the sun low in the sky, turning the ripples a beautiful orange, reflecting gold. The scene before her was so tranquil, but she felt sick with nerves, she wanted to disturb the water's stillness - it didn't feel right that it was so calm when her head and her heart were one big jumbled mess of anxiety and stress.

"He must be really angry," She sighed to Ladon, her brows furrowed in disappointment. 

"Quite," A voice from behind her startled her. 

"Draco," She breathed, jumping up, turning to face him. His hands were buried in the pockets of his robes, face sunken into a deep, contemplative frown, looking right past her, toward the skyline, as she desperately tried to meet his eye. "You came," 

He shrugged, sighing, before dropping to sit on the floor. "Don't know why," 

"Oh," She cast her eyes downwards, wringing her hands together in front of her, as Draco absentmindedly stroked Ladon. "Draco- I can explain- I'm really, really sorry-" 

"I don't think I want to hear it, Juno," He finally met her gaze, with such ferocity, such fierce and utter betrayal behind his eyes, conveying just how much she'd hurt him. She wanted the ground to swallow her up, she wanted to burst into tears and fall onto him and hug him so tightly until he forgave her - she felt so guilty. 

"Draco-" She hummed, softly, dropping to her knees beside him, edging as close to him as she thought he would allow. "I didn't- we didn't-" He raised his brow at her, waiting for the explanation she had been dying to give him. "We didn't have sex, Harry and I. I don't even know where the rumour started-"

"Came from a reputable source, from what I heard," He spat back, averting his eyes back to the lake. She was losing him. She reached out, gently, caressing his cheek with the pads of her fingers. 

"Please, Draco -," She pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. She was so desperate. So desperate it hurt. The lump in her throat was agonising. "Please. Believe me. I wouldn't do that to you, I know how you feel about Harry-" 

He met her gaze again, eyes glassy, clenching his jaw so hard she thought he might break his teeth. She'd never seen him so vulnerable, so hurt. She hated that she was the cause of this - she felt she was just as bad as his father. 

"Why would Longbottom make something like that up?" He croaked, an edge of desperation to his own voice now. 

"It was Ron. Ron told Neville, Dean and Seamus he'd walked in on Harry and I, which he hadn't - he just thought he had. Slughorn suggested I improve my duelling skills and put Harry up to the task. Ron walked in when we'd finished, we'd both been knocked down and were catching our breaths - it looked like - but it wasn't, I promise- I promise," 

"Why didn't you tell me you were getting extra lessons from Potter? I could have helped you." 

"It was only the one. And it was Slughorn's doing," 

She was lying so easily, she began to question her moral compass. She'd deal with that later. She didn't want to cause him any more pain. She couldn't tell him the truth - what good would it do?

"Draco-" She breathed again, cupping his face in her hands, tilting his head up, forcing him to look at her. "I'd never hurt you, I'd never do anything to hurt you, or to spite you. Nothing happened, I promise, please - please, just-" She wrapped her arms around his neck, unable to stop herself, nuzzling her head in the crook, squeezing him, murmuring pleas against his skin. Finally, he sighed, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her into him. She relaxed her body, lowering herself onto his lap, tangled in his arms, squeezing him tightly, never wanting to let go. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," She chanted, tears falling from her eyes. She still felt sick with guilt. 

"Hey," He soothed, pulling back, looking her in the eye, smoothing her hair with his hand. "It's okay, I believe you, okay? We're okay," 

Her bottom lip jutted out further, tears spilling now. He reached up, collecting them with the pad of his thumb, swiping them off her cheeks. 

"You looked so hurt," She hiccupped, "I never wanted to hurt you, everyone else hurts you - I didn't want to be like everyone else," 

He swallowed down a lump that formed in his throat at her words. 

"Don't cry," He cooed. "You haven't hurt me. I'm okay, I'm fine, we're alright," 

She let out a giggle through her tears, wiping at her cheeks furiously with the arm of her sweater. "Sorry," 

"Come here," He pulled her back into his chest, rocking her slightly, running his hands up and down her spine, lips pressed against the crown of her head as he hushed her. "You're so lovely."

"Please never be angry with me again," She sniffled. 

"What am I going to do with you?" 

Though, he thought, the real question was; what am I going to do without you?

A/N: Sorry it's short, friends <3 pls remember, vote, comment, share xxx