entanglements | d.m.

63.easter

April '99 | H E R

Majority of fifth, seventh and eighth years decided to stay at school over easter, seeing that it's right before the big exams.

Devyn is one of them, though the need to see her family is almost unbearable. Her mother promised a visit in Hogsmeade with Noah and Declan, which is something to look forward to in all the studying she is already drowning in.

Maybe that is one of the reasons Devyn dutifully ignores the letters Narcissa keeps sending her, reminding of her willingness to meet Devyn's mum. As selfish as it sounds, Devyn doesn't want to spoil the coming lunch with more marriage talk. She knows that the disregard will bite her in the arse at some point, but right now, in the bubble of Hogwarts, that is a problem for future Devyn.

This very moment, her biggest worry is getting through the study session until dinner, but that poses a difficulty when loose-lipped classmates decided to join the group in the library. Instead of being concerned about the upcoming exams, they found a better target for their bubbling attention.

"Doesn't he have a wife?"

"I see no ring," Isobel observes, not an ounce of shame in her staring of the professor who is talking to Madame Pince.

"A girlfriend then. He should have one." The former sighs dreamily, pink strands fluttering as her cheek sinks into the palm of her hand. "He's so dashing."

"Lisa," Ernie chides, reminding his fiancée of his presence.

"Ern," she retorts coyly.

"I don't hear you talking about me that way."

"Neither does Oakes," Lisa counters readily, evenly, "so given that analogy, you should be in the clear."

"Absolutely. She's talking too much, Ernie," Isobel assures before sending dull daggers at her best friend. "I know too much. What I would really love to know, though, is how Oakes gets his fill while being in school every day.

"Issi." Anthony reprimands.

Michael curls his lip, head diving back down into his notes. "That's disgusting."

"I'm serious," Isobel insists, which is the exact problem here. "Look at him. That's a man if you've ever seen one."

Draco scoffs.

"Yeah," Isobel continues, ever-so blunt and non-apologetic, "clearly it takes more than a little to satisfy you, pretty boy." She flutters her lashes at Draco and Devyn, both sitting opposite her. "Imagine what Mason requires. All that testosterone needs the means for release, and that regularly."

"Isobel," Anthony implores wearily, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Can you stop speaking of him like that."

"Mason?" Draco replies, head tilting with intrigue. "When did you get on first name basis?"

"None of your business, Malfoy," Isobel snarks back, her choice of using the last name deliberate.

"I see," Draco replies slowly, gaze lingering on the curly-headed blonde witch for a beat longer.

Isobel ignores it flippantly. Devyn can't. She has packed her things already, done with listening to this conversation a second longer. Her brain cells die with every word being said. What did she think of coming here anyway? There's only one person she needs.

"Come on." Taking Draco's hand, she stands up and walks away, giving him no choice but to follow.

He laughs at her abruptness, barely catching himself on his feet. But then he's next to her, not just holding her hand but slipping his fingers between hers.