limerence- d,,Malfoy

chapter five

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"Aurora, mum sent you a letter!" Valentine screamed from down in the common area, and I raced down the stairs.

Of course, the owls had come; it was a Thursday. My mother was a routine human; she would always be exactly on time.  Valentine threw the letter across the room with a large smile. I tore it up in my hands to get to her writing.

Hello dear,

I must inform you that you will have a ball this year! How wonderful! Don't you worry; I've organised to come up this weekend to get you a dress and sort out Valentine. Tell Ella she can come along too if she wishes.

Your father sends his best wishes. He does miss you; please try to write to him more.

With all my love,

Mother Dearest,

Grace Waterhorse

"She asked you to write to him too." Valentine asked, popping his head up from the velvet couch. His letter in hand is obviously much longer, probably getting told off again.

I nodded. "Yeah, like he would even respond."

"How many did you write already?"

"Twelve..."

"How many backs?"

"Zero," I sighed, my mouth twitching at the thought of him. I hadn't seen him since I was about six; he was a deadbeat dad. If I were lucky, I would get a birthday card and a Christmas card.

Valentine shrugged his shoulders; he rarely ever let it upset him. Most of the time, we would just talk about what a sh*t of a father he was. I glanced down at my watch, which, of course, told me the perfect time. The 'you're late shit go' time, I gave my idiotic brother a quick side hug.

One thing was for sure: I was late for a dentation. Might I also add that the dentation was also not my fault? I wholeheartedly believe Snape has it out for me. But that's another time and place story. I skidded down the hallway, careful not to slip. My legs were unable to go any quicker than I was.

Out of breath and stammering, I successfully made it. Snape stood at the door, ready to greet my late arrival. He scowled down at me, his eyes like a piercing viper. I smiled up at him uncomfortably, my hands rubbing against my arm.

"Waterhorse, late once again," Snape snickered, clicking his tongue at me. "I do wish this wouldn't become a habit."

"My apologise-"

Snape held his hand out, stopping any excuse I was able to muster. He waved his hand, directing me into the classroom. Draco sat at the front, making sure not to make any eye contact. I rolled my eyes, taking the furthest seat I could. If anything, I wish I could just disappear, shrivel up here, and die slowly.

Snape smacked down a stack of books. The dust flew about the room, invading my lungs. I coughed it up, receiving a side-eye. Snape glanced between the two of us, flipping his hair, before giving his instructions.

"Organise these alphabetically; there's more on the shelf," he monotoned, the death of his eyes giving enough boredom for a lifetime. "I'll be back in 3 hours; if it's not finished by then, enjoy each other's company tomorrow."

"Sir, I had quidditch tomorrow," Draco inquired, his eyebrows furrowing together. The disgust of having to spend another day with me pained across his delicate face.

Snape turned his head slowly, like a serial killer, and asked, "Does that seem to be my problem? No. Do I care? No."

I held back a laugh, which came out as a snort. Masking my humour wasn't my strongest suit. I glanced away, covering my mouth. Draco shut up quickly, slumping back down. Snape turned and walked before locking the door shut. Surely this was malpractice; I could definitely take this up with the ministry.

Draco sat and fiddled with his fingers. Picking at the skin and prodding at his cuticles. I pinched my thigh, a habit that I wish would stop. However, the pain was a distraction from invading thoughts. I peered over at the books and then at the large shelf.

'I guess I'll do it myself.'

At first, it was a small pile, which then turned bigger. A pile to B pile, then C pile, and so forth, it wasn't hard. It would have been easier if someone didn't sit back and enjoy. I glared over at him, only to be met with an icy stare. He looked away, glancing out the window.

Outside, it was a breezy evening, with the leaves in the courtyards falling. It was colder now, more by the day, and only occasionally would the sun part from the clouds. My mind differed from the thoughts of winter and snow falling outside around me.

"You've put it the wrong way around," Draco coughed up, turning a few books around on the shelf. He bit his lower lip, sighing heavily.

I scoffed and picked up another pile. "Maybe you should be doing it then."

Draco ignored my comment, only quietly picking up another pile. He sprawled them out and organised them with ease. I watched him intently; he was such an odd person. Whenever he was in a large crowd, he was far more cocky and annoying. At this very moment, he was far from that; he seemed more of an introvert.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" I snickered, slamming down more books into their own piles. He shook his head, turning towards me, his gaze slipping from my eyes.

"I'm not in the mood to talk," he shrugged, picking up another book. "I especially don't have the energy for you."

I titled my head and cocked a brow. He copied my movements, taking a step closer. Inches, just merely inches from me. Before reaching behind my head for another book. Clearly, he was up to something; he was acting strange. He wasn't as insufferable as before; he was normal.

"Why are you acting so weird?" I inquired, pestering once again; it was a force of habit. My mother always clipped my ear for asking too many questions. She said it was my worst flaw, apart from many other flaws she rarely saw. Draco seemed to only see all of those flaws.

He pushed his lips into a line, holding back an insult. He really mustn't be in the mood for talking. I shuffled away, my hands fiddling with the books. Eventually, they were finished, and I placed my hands on my hips with my chest out. Not to brag, but I was perfectly good at organising.

I looked down at my watch; there was an hour left. Draco prodded at his fingers again, taking a seat and spreading his legs. I felt the frustration grow in me. This was stupid; I shouldn't have to spend any more time with him than is necessary. Draco drummed his fingers on the desk. It was an interrupting sound. He played the piano with them, a difficult piece that must have been engraved in his memory.

"Would you stop that?" I yelled, the sound driving me absolutely insane. He smirked over at me and tweaked his eye. A sadistic grin arrived on his face. He enjoyed it; he liked the frustration.

"Why does it annoy you?" He grinned, drumming harder and keeping his eyes on my annoyed expression. I should have known; he was a pest. An invasive species that thrived off the pain of others.

A high-pitched ring came to my ear. The sound of swishing of my own blood came from the highly racing heart rate. I glared at him, my eyes shooting the most painful insults his way. He twitched his face and stood up.  I flinched at his sudden movement, and he took a step back.

"God, you're so simple-minded," he roared before glancing away from me. Approaching the bookcase gently. Before his last act of pettiness, Draco chuckled as he successfully threw a stack of books to the ground.