chapter forty five

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           Quidditch. Once again it returns with overjoyed cheer and houses directing glares at each other once again. Winnie despises it all.

She had sat through a full breakfast listening to Ron complain and huff, it took everything in her not to reach over and throttle him for being so stubborn. He got on the team, that should simply be enough. That total thirty minutes of her listening to loud chatter of the upcoming game was enough for her to decide she was going to opt out of that game completely and instead hide away in the library all day.

She had fallen behind on homework due to her transformation, meaning she has enough to hide herself away until the noise and overdramatic cheers die down later that night. She menouvers now through the hallways, baggy jeans around her waist and a cream tinted long sleeve turtle neck kissed her chest tightly. She was sporting her pendant once again, tucked in under her turtleneck with her simple silver ring laced around her pointer finger. Silver bracelets jingled on her wrist, a piece of Theo Nott locked onto her.

A flash of snow white caught her eye as she was passing an alcove, a window stood high in the air, stretching hundreds of feet over the floor. In the distance she could make out movements of red and green in the air, the quidditch match has started. It was the person leaning against the window, however, that caught her attention. She knew it was Draco Malfoy instantly, not for the brush of his platinum hair, but for the rigid way he held himself. Shoulders straight, back aligned and hands folded behind him. From where she stood, she was absurced to see his face, only the twist of his wand in his hands.

She watched his finger twist and turn against the black wood, stopping to tap like a broken record every few seconds. Winnie briefly wondered why he wasn't out there himself, zipping around in the air and showcasing his huge inflated ego. She took the luxury of using a gift she held so tightly to her chest since last year, though it left her feeling nothing but a dull silence from him. Even alone, Draco Malfoy held himself completely emotionless.

Perhaps if she had been in the mood for a ruse, in the mood to tease the whiny snow white ferret she would've poked him on that ponderment. Except, Winnie was anything but in a smirking mood today, her shoulders fell as she casted her gaze away from Draco. Finger twisting the smooth surface of her ring as she began to walk again, shoes tapping silently against the floor.

"Staring is an improper thing to do Bulstrode, but then again you could never do anything correctly," Draco's drawl reached her ears like lemon, seeping into her system leaving a sour, bitter taste in her mouth. Her footsteps freeze, eyes squeezing shut as she summons a heavy sigh from inside of her chest. The sound coaxes the tense air around them as she turns, eyes opened and narrowed like slits as she sniffs, raising her chin in defence. She finds that his posture hasn't even moved, his face now only half seen from her standpoint, straight nose stuck out with his lips pressed into a line. One of his eyebrows narrowed from what she could see, as if something was causing him an intense amount of pain.

"You know nothing about me Malfoy, so I suggest you shut your mouth," Winnie snapped, lips pressed into a scowl as the blond snorted, shaking his head.

"I know enough to come to my own conclusions," Draco shot back, still looking out the window. He hadn't glanced at her once, which was a strange act considering the Draco she knew took fear that was splattered across your face and used it to his own advantage. He thrived on seeing one's pain and fear painted across their face, and though she was neither right now, a gaze of grey eyes was never granted her way.

"And what precisely is that?" She questioned, stepping closer, demanding him silently to meet her gaze. She was greeted with silence, which left her squaring her shoulders and rolling her hazel tinted eyes. "No really, I would love to know what you think you know about me-"

Wolves Without Teeth  ── theodore nott ¹ ( UNDER EDITING )Where stories live. Discover now