Winters Cloak | S.S

46 | Affection

The weekend had approached faster than anticipated. Or so, thinking about Severus contributed to that time pace.

It was no surprise that Severus had been ignoring you the entire week. Not even a glance your way, it did hurt, but you'd promised yourself to keep composure. To deal with him later, when he was out of his 'moody' periods.

And although you agreed to go to Hogsmeade with the blonde (in hopes of feeling better), things began to shift and awkwardness would settle in.

It took you both an hour to find the best place to sit down and eat, and it didn't help that you kept bumping into others, offering them a sheepish grin as you would slip down the narrow alleys.

Draco even tried to lure you by a creepy bar with witches and wizards who wore dark trench coats and sipped on old wine. He stated that he had some 'business' to deal with, you thought it was shady and left him. But he managed to catch up eventually.

Now you were just glad to be sitting by a corner, your feet already felt numb as Draco sat across, mindlessly drinking. His lips held a frown, you didn't pay much attention to him and it was showing.

You finish writing the last sentence on your introductory paragraph, a brand new essay plan was enticing you. So you had no choice but to comply, after all, NEWTs was just around the corner.

"This isn't...what I initially imagined our trip to be." Draco blurts out, pink cheeks illuminate his face as he visibly pans his head away from staring at your stern oculars.

"Oh. What did you imagine then?" You ask, assorting  loose parchment papers in its original sequence, feeling satisfied once your work was completed for the hour.

"I'm sure we came here to chill and take time off of studying."

Draco openly expresses his discontent by sipping on an odd orange drink he ordered ten minutes ago. It was slowly losing its colour and you couldn't fathom why he chose that peculiar option out of the many classical drinks.

"Well yeah. To you, the definition of 'chilling' is to drink a disgusting drink—but I can chill after my exams are over." You remark, rolling your eyes at him. "Plus, we only get to attempt this exam once, unless of a big disruption."

"How is this a disgusting drink?" Draco asks, he tilts the drink to the side, watching the colour change again to a more brown oak-looking hue. Ignoring your other snide comments.

"It just looks gross." You scoff.

Opening up a bigger textbook this time, it was from an ancient language and you would have to transcribe it during the exam. Something you needed great practice for.

"You haven't even tasted it."

"I don't need to taste it in order to know that it tastes like shit." You sigh, furrowing your brows as you re-read the same transcript for the fifth time in a row. You had this massive urge to pull your hairs out but you knew it would only lead you to procrastinate.

"Have a sip." Draco offers after a moment of thought.

You look up from your textbook.  "Absolutely not, Malfoy."

"Just one tiny sip. Like this tiny." Draco holds up his index finger and thumb, turning them into a mini circle to emphasise the droplets that you were bound to intake.

"I'm not doing that."

"If you take a sip, I'll stop bothering you for the remainder of your study session." Draco offers, a sly smirk approaching his face as he rattles the drink in his hand.

It was a rather tempting offer, but you knew he wouldn't let you off the hook so easily. Always having another plan in mind.

"How about you stop bothering me for the entire year?" You ask with a grin. To much amusement, Draco's face falls.