𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲 | 𝐝.𝐦.

fourteen

The music courses through both their veins. Malfoy hears his own rapid heartbeat in his ears, watches the dewy-eyed girl.

Betty's body tightens with dread and exhaustion, while a flicker of alarm passes his. Even from opposite ends of the room, she's able to notice every detail of his tall frame.

Including when Malfoy drops both his arms to his side, and Betty's gaze falls to the young girl he was snogging.

She doesn't look any younger than a fifth-year with the heavy makeup on her seriously flushed face, but she was still lovely, and Betty thinks she could never compare to that.

Shoving the younger girl away, he weaves his way through the other Slytherins, strides urgently towards the pair of them, still rosy-faced and heaving breaths.

Betty fakes a smile when he is a few feet away from them, pretends to be delighted to see him which at the moment, she thinks might be the best facade to don. But she never smiles at Malfoy, so that simple beam appears unusual, deceptive to him.

"Hi," she says first, her voice almost catching with that single word.

"I didn't know you were coming," he says, looking reproachful.

His breath reeks of whiskey and his lips are smudged and swollen with a girl's lipstick, but when he speaks, his words aren't slurred, so it's obvious he's not completely intoxicated yet.

Betty gulps, "Neither did I."

Blaise, between the pair, but barely receiving a glance from either one of them, speaks up, "Okay... I'm just going to leave you guys to it. Lin, you have a great time here."

She gives the boy a small, grateful smile which he returns gladly. Then he saunters a couple inches away to fix himself a shot of tequila beside them, but Betty is quite certain he's staying within earshot so he might catch hints of their conversation.

Malfoy studies the girl, the wrinkles of her sweatshirt, obviously a previously worn pyjamas, the fatigue plastered all over her moonstone pale face. It troubles him.

"Are you okay? You don't look so good," he points out, which he doesn't think is the right thing to say, but hadn't yet figured that out when he spoke.

Biting her lower lip, she shakes her head briskly. "I'm fine. What makes you think I'm not?" Her tone is carved with pretence calmness.

"You're in the Slytherin common room in the middle of the night. That's not usual behaviour for you, Lin."

Betty still gnaws on her lower lip, ignoring the metallic taste that warms her tongue when her skin tears. "Right," she says, eyes darting frantically around the room. "Well, I was just leaving anyway. So - "

He grabs her wrist in a tight grip just as she is about to make her bold escape. "You obviously came here to speak with me, or Blaise wouldn't have called me here," he tells her, visibly annoyed, "Out with it."

Betty gives her a hand a vicious yank away from him, and holds it tenderly in her other hand, massaging it. "It's no big deal. If I'd known you were having a party, I wouldn't have come.," she starts first, against the volume of the music, against the curious glimpses of other students, she leans closer to him. "It's just - I came here to tell you about our plan. It's gone wrong like I told you it would. Ron's been poisoned. He accidentally drank the - "