𝘿𝙐𝙍𝙀𝙎𝙎 ; 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙛𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙛𝙤𝙮

four,

iiii. | FOUR
❦
8 august, 1998
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Monday came.

Defense Against the Dark Arts. Period One. Mr. Malfoy.

I had to admit, I had somewhat forgotten about Mr. Malfoy due to the week I had. Scorpius was back at the forefront of my mind because of the recent intimacy.

However, I was quite thrilled to see Mr. Malfoy in person. Pictures could be deceiving.

The students chattered with each other as they chose their seats for the term. I overheard a few girls conversing about the new Professor. Somehow, a Hufflepuff girl had gotten the magazine, showing it to a group of swooning girls.

Ivory chose a seat beside Arabella. Scorpius sat several seats down.

The chatter receded as footsteps sounded from the corridor. Everybody shuffled quickly to their seats—an anticipatory mood filling the classroom.

I even saw multiple girls plucking bright green apples from their satchels, ruffling their skirts and flawlessly curled hair. I thought he was good-looking, but I wouldn't go that far.

Once the door clicked open, majority of the class turned in their seats to gape at the man.

Good Merlin.

Why the magazine cover was surely deceiving.

It did no justice to his physical appearance— he is perhaps, the most enrapturing man I've ever laid eyes on.

He was tall—so fucking tall. He easily towered over me by a heads length. Maybe two. And he looked—so—expensive. His attire and his features. He was sealed in a dapper suit, navy blue in color—with copper loafers on his feet. His hair was styled with gel—a few loose, pale strands straying over his—his eyes. It was similar to gazing into a diamond—they were so bloody blue—and fucking gorgeous. His sleek glasses hovered over them. Scorp and him shared the same skin: milky and porcelain. Alabaster. So masculine and, I despised admitting it—flawless.

Each girl— and several boys, were utterly awestruck.

A gracious smile flourished on his pink lips, almost a smirk. He's aware. He knows how attractive he is.

"Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts." He asserted. Goodness. His voice. Thick. Very heavy British accent. A small note of rasp. Rich and deep—silky almost. And so bloody manly. "My name is Mr. Malfoy, I am a Healer at the Minsitry, so perhaps you know me—as I do recognize multiple faces in this classroom."

I watched as his eyes darted along the class.

"You may know my son, Scorpius—" He continued, nodding to Scorp, who responded with nothing other than a subtle eye roll.

It then hurt me to see Scorpius—the lanky boy who somewhat resembled his brawny father. Remorse weaved through my stomach. I became too shameful to look at my boyfriend after losing my mind over his father.

"Anywho—" Mr. Malfoy said while striding up the aisle, passing me in the process. His scent is even more enticing than himself. Musk. Cashmere. Teakwood. Peppermint. Cologne. And a small bit of cigarette smoke —which duels harmoniously with the other lovely smells. "There isn't time to waste. Please open your books—I believe we will be starting on Page Twelve today. I advise you all to reread the chapter and review silently."