𝘿𝙐𝙍𝙀𝙎𝙎 ; 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙛𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙛𝙤𝙮

thirteen,

xiii. | THIRTEEN.
❦
20 september, 1998
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

"Daddy Malfoy stood up for you against his own son?"

I cannot tell if Arabella is kidding or being completely sincere. It really wasn't like he confessed his undying love for me after reprimanding his son — although that's how she took it.

I plucked on a stray thread from my jeans — nodding stiffly and sucking oxygen into my lungs. "Yes — he did. All he did was the right thing, his son's an ass."

"Well," She shifted on my bed, laying down on her stomach as the conversation grew more climactic. She shoveled treacle tarts into her mouth like she was at the Muggle cinema. Sucking the shrapnel from her fingers, her gaze returns to me. "I am quite gay, but even I think Mr. Malfoy is sexy — "

I whacked her on the bicep with my Witch Weekly magazine, scowling at the raven-haired girl. "He's our professor! Quit fantasizing about him!" I hissed. Godric, I am such a hypocrite.

"That's sure rich coming from you." Arabella retaliated, smirking up at me. "It's human nature to think that Scorp's dad is crazy hot. And, again, that's coming from a lesbian. Do you think he offers threesomes?" She offered a crude smirk, earning another blow from my magazine.

"You are vile." I jested, knowing deep down that I would fancy the same thing from him.

He treated me different from everyone else. And that was the issue, because I was fed up with the slapdash teenage boys who only cared about sex. Mr. Malfoy was a man. He was mature, and had real morals — and didn't just see women as a item used to get him off.

I wanted him all to myself regardless of the fact that he wasn't even mine. And quite frankly, it was unlikely that he ever would be. He was an esteemed man. Respect wasn't anything that came difficult to him. Hell, he was everybody's parent's boss at least once. He was a sore subject at the supper table of plenty of households, so everybody had already knew who he was when he was appointed as a professor.

Usually, I would attempt to stifle these rabid thoughts of my boyfriend's — well, possibly ex-boyfriend's father. They were untamable, daft, and demented, even. Fancying older men wasn't exactly a new affinity of mine.

But it was usually just boys a few years older than me, never professors with delinquent sons.

My little infatuation with Mr. Malfoy was no more than a whimsical girl crush. I couldn't fathom being romantically affiliated with the man.

I needed to talk to someone.

"I think I fancy him." I blurted, and, per usual, immediately regretting it.

"PROFESSOR MALFOY!?" Arabella hissed, earning a hush! from me. I frantically scanned the room — looking for any loitering roommates before looking back at her.

"I have for awhile." I said in a sotto, shameful voice. "Ever since that first day of school. But don't you dare tell anyone. Not even Shriya, or— or Colette, she obviously has connections, and if her or Scorpius finds out, I am dead."

Arabella tutted. "I wouldn't betray you like that. But why, Ivory — why him? He's like — a zillion years older than you."

I raised my brows— smirking. "Didn't you just say he was sexy?"

"Yeah— I wasn't kidding, but you actually have like — feeling feelings towards him— like, no bollocks?"

"Not — Well, I don't necessarily have a desire to date the man, he just — well, him." I said, slightly more at ease given that she unanimously agreed that he's a very attractive man.

Arabella smirked. "You should date him, get back at Scorpius."

I hummed in displeasure — throwing my magazine into the drawer of my mahogany nightstand. "Then I would be a slut with raging daddy issues and a sickly craving for male validation."

"You would not be a slut!" She sounded provoked. "It would be such a move. Can you imagine?" She sighed, a dream-like smirk across her face. "He fucked up, so you sleuthed in and dated his dad. That's a different kind of revenge, Ivory. That's bloody malicious, and it's exactly what that bloke deserves."

"I suppose what people don't know won't hurt them — " I drawled, eating a treacle tart through smirking lips.

My captivation with the man needed to remain confidential — strictly within the borders of mine and Arabella's friendship. I truly didn't trust anyone as much as her.

"We'll make sure no one finds out, then." A smirk turned up on her lips. "I've needed a scandal like this in my life, things have gotten too mundane."

"But how do we manage this?" I sighed, getting up and slipping on a sweater. "What matter does a man like him have in my boring life? Have you seen his ex-wife, I think I want her instead of him. He wouldn't be caught dead canoodling with me."

Arabella let out a long exhale, befuddled and abrasive. "She's also a fully blossomed thirty-something-year-old woman. Give yourself some grace, you're hot! You were dating the it-boy of eighth year." She crooned. "And besides, have you not payed a single bit of attention these past couple of months since Mr. Malfoy's been employed?"

I tutted. "I think I've just been delusional, Arabella."

"It's not delusional if I've noticed it too." She began, cocking her head. "Why did he specifically target you — an innocent girl doing innocent activities on the first day of school for no reason? Kiss your hand when he met you? Nurse to back to health when you had your allergic reaction? Let alone, panic when you had your allergic reaction? Let you stay the night? Take you to his study? Take you home? Reprimand his son for being a dick? Hm?" She reasoned, brandishing her hand as she numbered the events on her fingers.

I groaned. "Which was probably circumstantial. He's doing it out of pure human decency, Arabella."

"SALAZAR!" She crossly tossed her hands in the air. "Give yourself a chance. Like I said, you're hot, Ivory. Fucking beautiful, and the man very obviously wants to shag you. Throw some shit, cause some commotion, wreck havoc, get in a fight — make out with someone in the back of the classroom, I don't give a shit how you do it! Get yourself a detention, stay after class, and SEDUCE THE MOTHERFUCKER!"

Arabella was a kindred soul.

So there we sat. In the midst of my four-poster — scheming about the seduction of my exes father.

Oh, how sinful.

Yet so pleasurably mischievous.