Babygirl (SEQUEL to Fuckboy - Draco Malfoy)

prologue.

Draco Malfoy had always wanted to fall in love—until it happened.

He was usually quite sensible. But when he watched Evangeline Blackwood step through the doors of the Great Hall, his sense of propriety—along with his sense of all that was good and right in the world—shifted on account of her hand resting on the crook of his best friend's arm.

No one, not even Draco himself, could see the great precipice at which he currently stood. He only saw her form, the way her shoulders swayed when she walked, the way her bare back was held taut and straight, the long strides that she took as she glided into the room. The atmosphere shifted around Draco, a heavy burden placed upon the very air he breathed. Now that he had noticed, he could not simply un-notice.

Denial greeted him as an old friend, and he directed his attention back to Pansy Parkinson, his date, as she went on about the future of the wizarding world.

"The second they let Potter become the best of us, we're doomed," Pansy hissed, watching as Potter and one of the Patil sisters—Draco could never remember which was which—danced in the middle of the Great Hall, opening the Yule Ball with the other "chosen ones." Draco surveyed Potter as he danced awkwardly with his date. As a Triwizard champion, one would expect him to be a bit more light on his feet. However, Potter stepped on his date's toes and performed the wrong steps and seemed to have forgotten to comb his hair.

"Just wait until my father hears about this," Draco snickered with renewed enthusiasm, imagining his father's reaction when he told him the story. Draco would tell his father about Potter's horrible dancing animatedly. His father would laugh, his one true joy always being in his superiority over others. Draco wouldn't have messed up the dance. Draco was of proper breeding. Draco would have won the tournament already.

In the midst of his imaginative musings, there she was again—Blackwood, trailing around the edge of the dance floor with Blaise at her side. Draco blinked. She was wearing her hair up, a few loose pieces of hair falling down onto her exposed mid back, just above the top of her dress. As she moved with Blaise through the crowd, her tulle skirt swished against the leg of her date, close enough to envelope Blaise in the black fabric entirely.

"I mean, honestly," Pansy whispered, leaning in. "It's a wonder he's survived this long."

Draco blinked. Potter was waltzing towards Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang, nearly backing into the latter before the Patil sister jerked him away. Cedric Diggory, two years older than fourth-year cheat Harry Potter, had slightly more dignity, although being a Hufflepuff still made him an embarrassment of a Champion.

Draco flicked his eyes unwillingly to the two figures that stood in black contrast against the silver decorations of the Great Hall. He frowned, watching Blaise place his hand on the corset of that black tulle gown. Others were joining the dance now, trickling onto the floor in the center of the hall and dancing around the four Champions with equal verve. Blackwood was now resting two arms around Blaise's shoulders and waltzing with him, the loose tendrils of her hair brushing her back as she swayed to the music.

"If we're lucky," Draco whispered to Pansy, tearing his eyes away, "The Tournament will finish Potter off for good. After all, the tasks are known to kill."

"We'll just keep our fingers crossed," Pansy whispered back. He watched her red lips as she took a sip of punch from a crystal glass. He looked at her, from her lips to her eyes and then back again.

Blaise twirled Blackwood under his arm, then pulled her back into a close embrace. Draco watched, unknowing that he was watching at all. One moment, he was thinking of Pansy's lips and whether she'd try to kiss him tonight. The next moment, he was watching Blackwood tilt her head back and laugh. He saw the muscles of her neck flex as Blaise dipped her backwards. Her arm reached up to wrap more firmly around his neck. Draco noticed how she trusted Blaise to hold her up—to not let her fall.