DRIPS OF FANCY - draco malfoy

↳ 𝑐ℎ𝑝．34

The heavy scent of incense filled the air, mixing with the thick, hazy atmosphere of the Divination classroom. Alvena's head drooped, her eyes growing heavy as the soft murmur of Professor Trelawney's voice washed over her like a lullaby. She had tried to pay attention, really, but the class was dragging on. It didn't help that the professor was speaking in that vague, melodramatic tone she could barely keep track of, the one that made everything sound more mystical than it really was.

Alvena let out a small yawn, her head dipping lower toward the table, the swirling patterns of incense smoke now seemingly pulling her into a dreamlike haze. She could feel the pull of sleep tugging at her, her eyelids growing heavier with each passing second. Just as she was about to give in, a familiar voice broke the silence with an almost imperceptible snicker.

"Look who's about to fall asleep."

Alvena jolted upright, her heart skipping a beat as she realized Draco was sitting next to her, his usual smirk on his lips. She shot him a glare, barely able to suppress a yawn.

"Shut up, Malfoy," she muttered under her breath, but the words didn't have the same venom when her eyes were still half-lidded with sleep.

But Draco wasn't about to let it slide. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a mock whisper. "I think it's a sign that Divination's working, Blythe. You're already predicting the future."

Before she could respond, the door to the classroom creaked open. The air shifted as Umbridge entered, the soft swish of her pink robes announcing her arrival. Alvena blinked, startled, and quickly straightened up, feeling the weight of her presence.

Umbridge's eyes skimmed the class, her overly cheerful expression never quite reaching her eyes. Her gaze lingered on Trelawney, who was seated at her desk with her usual, frazzled appearance, though there was a palpable nervousness to her posture today.

"Well, well, Professor Trelawney," Umbridge said sweetly, her voice sickeningly pleasant. "I thought I'd drop by to see how things are progressing with the students here. You know, the ones who are supposed to be learning how to foresee their futures."

Trelawney, who had been halfway to muttering something about the Fates, immediately stiffened, her large glasses sliding down her nose as she fumbled with a nearby stack of papers. "Of course, Professor Umbridge. We are—uh, we're just discussing the, uh, finer points of future sight and, um, the signs we must look for..."

"Fascinating," Umbridge interrupted, her smile never faltering. "Tell me, Professor Trelawney, when exactly do you foresee this class finally mastering their skills? Is it sometime soon?"

Draco snickered softly beside Alvena, barely able to hold back his laughter at the way Trelawney visibly flinched under Umbridge's sharp tone. The rest of the class shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Alvena couldn't help but roll her eyes, catching Draco's eye for a moment.

"Oh, no," she muttered quietly to him, "she's not going to let this go, is she?"

Draco gave her a knowing smirk. "It's Umbridge. Of course not."

Alvena, feeling a mix of irritation and amusement, kicked him under the table with her foot. His immediate response was to wince but then lean toward her with a grin. He whispered loudly enough for only her to hear, "Did you kick me under the table because you're afraid of getting caught by the prophecy police?"

That broke her restraint, and she couldn't help but laugh, though she quickly stifled it, glancing toward the front of the room. Umbridge was still talking to Trelawney, oblivious to the side conversations happening behind her.

Draco, in a tone dripping with sarcasm, turned back toward Umbridge and mockingly asked, "Professor Umbridge, would you like me to predict when I'll be able to get a prophecy? Or perhaps when you'll finally admit this class is about as useful as a broken crystal ball?"