entanglements | d.m.

48.sixteen

September '96 | H E R

Devyn's stomach feels aflutter as Draco's lips caress her own. Then her cheeks, one and the other, the tip of her nose, between her brows, her forehead, jaw, chin, and back on her mouth, firmer with her head craddled in his big hands.

She can't say for how long they stand just off the side in the Viaduct courtyard, half-hidden in shadows, but she is not complaining.

Tarquin left with an exaggerated retching sound when Draco snuck up on her.

"What is that for?"

"Just happy to see you." And another kiss, and another, allowing a giddieness to bubble up.

It's been a week of her being back at school already, two for Draco and every other student. Apart from little kisses stolen between classes, nothing much has happened. They don't meet like they used to in fifth year. He has his prefect duties that Pansy warned him he has to see through and with the added security, he thinks it's not safe to walk around past curfew.

Devyn agrees only half-heartedly, but she has not much of a choice. She'd much rather spend every free second with him, whatever way he wants.

Skull still in the palms of his hands, he strokes his nose against hers. "How much time can I steal from your day?"

The question lights up her chest, making her reply a little too eager, a little too fast, "However much you want."

He's kissing her cheek, once, twice for good measure, then releases her, sliding his hand down her arm before linking fingers with her. "You wanna go for a walk?"

Devyn smiles, feeling ridiculously light-headed. "Sure."

He makes it all the way across the bridge until his hand slips away to open the massive oaken door to the Central Hall, and when he appears next to her again, his hands sink into the front pocket of his pants.

That's a pang to her heart she has grown to know by this point.

"Are you catching up alright?" Draco asks. "With school?"

This casualness from him should be no surprise either. He'll willingly drape himself over Devyn in her village but the moment other people their age are involved, he feels too... she doesn't know.

Whatever. She wants the privacy, too. And what matters is how he is when they are alone, and that version, she digs the most.

"Yeah, I get on alright," she replies, folding her arms under her chest as they stroll. "Snape as Defence teacher is wild, huh? I wonder what made Dumbledore finally appoint him."

"Hm." He makes an absentminded sound.

"But there's a bright side to it, I reckon." She faces Draco with a smile. "No more Snape next year. Because of the position's curse."

Draco's returning smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"But he could return for Potions again," she continues, frowning. "Speaking off—Slughorn is a bit..."

"Vainglorious."

"About." She nods her agreement, glad he sees it as well. "He heard the name Wood and suddenly I was questioned about Oliver like I'm a fly on the wall in his house."

"Did you get an invite to the 'Slug Club'." Something about that soft spoken contempt makes her belief that he did not get an invite, and it wouldn't surprise her why that is.

She bumps her arm softly against his. "I did, but I turned it down. I have a feeling that I would be worth as much as the dirt under his sole if he learns who my father is—not that I care what he thinks—"