The Malfoy-Granger Guide To Fake Dating

13

Draco stared at his reflection in the mirror, and his reflection stared back at him. One and the same.

His collar felt a bit tight, pressed against his windpipe like the fabric was actively attempting to strangle him. He cleared his throat, reaching up to yank at his tie until he could breathe properly.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Yank the tie even looser because he still couldn't breathe and—

There. That was better. Only...now he looked like he'd gotten dressed in a rush. That wouldn't do. Best if he changed his shirt altogether.

Roughly five minutes later, he was back in front of his own reflection, messing with the way his hair laid over his forehead. Since when had his bangs gotten so whispy? He didn't want her to think he was balding or anything. No. Certainly not. Lucius Malfoy still had a full head of hair, and so did he.

He was in the middle of deciding whether or not he should attempt to style it differently when—

"What is Master Draco doing to his hair?"

"GAH—"

Draco jumped backward, startled by the sudden and wholly unexpected presence of Poppy in his bathroom.

"Fucking hell," he shook his head, gathering a calming breath as he reached up to massage at his temples. "You really shouldn't sneak up on people like that, you know? I very well could have hexed you."

"Poppy doubts it," the elf tilted her head thoughtfully. "Is Master Draco getting ready to visit Miss Granger?"

Draco ignored her question. "What are you even doing here? This isn't Malfoy Manor. I don't keep House Elves."

"Because Miss Granger doesn't approve?"

Draco scowled.

"No," he ground out, closing his eyes to keep his calm. "Well...fuck, that's not the only reason, alright? I do have my own thoughts every once in a while."

"Miss Granger likes the color blue." Poppy commented, unpromoted by the conversation at hand, "Perhaps Master Draco should change."

He shot a quizzical look down at the elf, his molars grinding as he considered entertaining her advice.

"How would you know that?"

"Poppy and Miss Granger have become good friends," the elf asserted, lifting her pointed nose and crossing both arms over her chest. "Poppy is free to go where she pleases when Misses Malfoy is not needing her."

Draco was taken aback. "So you've been...what? Visiting Granger's flat in your free time?"

The elf blinked. "Occasionally."

"What's occasionally?"

"Poppy does not know. She does not keep track."

Draco resisted the urge to punch the mirror with his bare fists.

"And what do the two of you regularly discuss in your little...meetings?"

Poppy shrugged, smirking in a way that made him want to scream as she clambered up onto his countertop. Because he just knew what that look meant. Knew what they were discussing behind his back.

The thought of it made him want to crawl out of his skin.

"Oh, lots of things," Poppy admitted, sighing. "but Poppy is not remembering the specifics."