Murder to Malfoy - D.MALFOY

[18]

Ivy found herself falling into the deepest depths of the ocean, without a life raft in sight. Every waking moment she felt as if she was choking and the ease on her chest, the blind want to get relieving air into her lungs, never relented. Like the most annoying this in the world times by hundreds and thousands. She became a prisoner to her own guilt-filled, revenge swirled and grief scrambled mind. To her, it was a fate worse than Azkaban. At least the people there had deserved what came to them.

It became impossible to do anything else but hurt.

She tried to study, well do homework, to try and get some sort of peace in her mind but nothing she tried would work. She spent hours locked in her room at her desk, just staring at blank pages. So she moved to the library, hoping it would strike some sort of match that would burn all the other thoughts in her mind away. She went to the loneliness part of the room, where hardly anyone ever went, and desperately tried to get her head right while she attempted to work by candlelight. She stared blankly at the page, the question not even becoming comprehensible the more times she read it over.

In an attempt to not snap her pencil out of pure fury with herself, she scrawled down the letter A and looked to the next question, hoping it would be easier.  She heard footsteps approaching in a near realm of her mind and by the weight of them, she recognised who approached her side almost instantly. Malfoy.

"The answers B," he sighed dramatically, flopping himself down into the chair next to her which faced the complete opposite direction.

"No it's-" she trialled off, the question finally making some sort of sense within her mind. She sighed agitatedly, flipping her pencil over to rub out the answer previous.

He smiled smugly, "Told you."

"So? I would've figured it out eventually," she countered, finally looking up at him. She found herself somewhat shocked and intrigued as to why he had such a perplexed look in his eyes. She stared into them a little longer than she probably should have, trying to figure out what was hidden behind the dimmed light within them. She noticed one thing though, he hadn't been sleeping properly as of recent.

"And not in the fifteen minutes that you've been staring at the page with your brow furrowed so hard that you now have a wrinkle there?" he chuckled quietly, as to not anger the librarian, while gesturing to the semi prominent wrinkle that lay between her brows. He noticed something else in the time that he stared at her also, her hair had the slightest auburn tint in the moonlight.

She rubbed her brow subconsciously as if it would massage away the marking. An odd feeling arose in her stomach at the idea that he had been watching her, she did not like it at all. Not one bit. Instead of asking that question, which would obviously be answered with some witty remark she didn't care to hear, she changed the subject with squinted eyes, "What do you want?"

He sighed once again, a certain intensity of the sound echoed in her ears, "Nothing, just couldn't bear seeing you so perplexed."

She gasped theatrically, "Oh you're a regular Jesus Christ."

Puzzlement flooded his brow and clouded the forlorn look in his eyes. He cleared his throat, twisting the rings on his fingers. "Who?" he asked quietly, partly because they were in a library and partly because he didn't want anyone else to know he didn't know something. That Ivy Cadieux was indeed smarter than him, like everyone says.

"Have you no knowledge of muggles? And here I thought your head could not get further up your ass," she marvelled sarcastically, going back to her work with a semi-clear head. He had worked as a distraction, oddly. Her momentary focus (during which she answered eight different questions) fell once he sighed for the third time, this time making it overly dramatic just to catch her attention again. "Keep sighing like that and I'll give you a Lobotomy with this pencil."