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Draco raised an eyebrow, his lip curling into a smirk.
"Well, well. Look who decided to grace us with he...
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The library was quiet, as it usually was at this time.
Aria sat at a corner table, quill in hand, the soft scratching against the parchment the only sound as she worked on her Defence Against the Dark Arts essay.
Snape had assigned them a particularly gruelling task—an in-depth analysis of vampires, their strengths, weaknesses, and how to defend oneself against them.
Aria's brow furrowed in concentration, her mind focused entirely on the assignment.
She was so engrossed in her work that she barely noticed the approaching footsteps until a sharp, aggressive tap echoed on the table beside her.
Aria slowly looked up, her eyes narrowing at the sight before her.
Clarissa Rosewood.
She stood there, her posture tense and her face twisted with a mix of anger and jealousy.
Aria’s stomach clenched, but she remained outwardly calm, her face an impassive mask.
Without bothering to acknowledge Clarissa immediately, she dipped her quill back into the inkpot and continued writing, pretending to be unfazed by her presence.
“Don’t act like you don’t see me,” Clarissa spat, her voice low but filled with venom. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at, Sinclair?”
Aria paused her writing but didn’t look up. “Clarissa, I’m busy. Unlike you, I actually take my assignments seriously.”
Clarissa scoffed, clearly not in the mood for Aria's indifference. “You think I care about that? What I care about is you. And Draco.”
At the mention of Draco’s name, Aria finally raised her eyes to meet Clarissa’s, her expression completely unreadable.
“You and Draco—pretending to be this perfect couple. It’s pathetic. I’ve liked him since our first year, and now, suddenly, you swoop in with your rivalry-turned-romance? What a joke. I see right through it. You’re fake dating.”
Aria simply blinked, her lips curving ever so slightly into a mocking smirk.
“Is that so? Well, congratulations on your keen observation skills, Clarissa,” she said dryly, clearly enjoying the jealousy that was pouring off the other girl in waves.
Clarissa’s face turned an alarming shade of red. “You think this is funny? Draco deserves better than some stuck-up girl who only knows how to manipulate people for attention. You think just because you’re clever and pretty, you can get whatever you want?”
Aria sighed dramatically, leaning back in her chair, arms crossed. “If you’re trying to insult me, you’ll have to do better than that. I’m not interested in whatever this is,” she said, gesturing vaguely at Clarissa, “so why don’t you run along and—"
Before Aria could finish, Clarissa slammed her hand down on the table again, grabbing Aria’s full attention.
“Don’t walk away from this, Sinclair! I “know” you’re fake dating him. And guess what? It’s not going to last. Draco’s not some puppet you can string along. He’s going to realise how fake this all is, and when he does, you’ll be out of the picture.”
Aria’s smirk vanished. She stood up from her chair slowly, her icy gaze locking onto Clarissa’s. “You don’t get to talk about him like that,” she said, her voice a dangerous whisper.
Clarissa crossed her arms defiantly. “I can talk about him however I want. You’re not even really his girlfriend. I’ve known him for years, and you—”
Aria turned to walk away, uninterested in hearing another word from Clarissa, but she felt a sharp tug on her arm.
Clarissa had grabbed her forearm, her nails digging into Aria’s skin. The boldness of the action made Aria pause, her breath hitching as a flash of anger surged through her.
“I told you to let go,” Aria said in a cold, low voice, staring down at the hand clutching her arm.
But Clarissa didn’t listen. She continued ranting. “He’s blind. Completely blind to see that you’re nothing but a heartless, manipulative bitch who doesn’t care about anyone but herself. I don’t know how he’s fallen for this act of yours, but it won’t last. I’m—”
With a swift, forceful motion, Aria yanked her arm free from Clarissa’s grip.
Before Clarissa could react, Aria pushed her hard, slamming her against the bookshelf behind them.
The wooden structure shook, books tumbling off the shelves as Clarissa’s back collided with it.
Clarissa gasped, her eyes wide with shock as Aria leaned in close, her expression cold and unforgiving.
“I said,” Aria hissed, her voice barely above a whisper, “let. Go.”
Clarissa, still trembling slightly, tried to regain her composure, but Aria’s sudden show of dominance left her frozen, too stunned to move.
“You have no idea who you’re dealing with,” Aria continued, her voice sharp as a blade.
“You think I’m some spoiled girl who only knows how to play games? Think again. I don’t care about what you think you deserve, Clarissa. But you never, ever touch me again. Understand?”
Clarissa swallowed, unable to form words, but the fear in her eyes was answer enough for Aria.
The Ravenclaw girl had lost her usual snark, now reduced to someone trembling under Aria’s fierce glare.
Aria smirked, enjoying the power she had in this moment. “Draco? He’s already mine. Fake dating or not, he’s not going to look at someone as pathetic as you. But go ahead—keep chasing him. It’ll only make you look more desperate.”
Clarissa flinched at Aria’s words, her face pale as she realised she had no comeback.
Satisfied, Aria let go of her, turning on her heel and walking away without a second glance.
Her steps echoed through the library, each one a reminder of the power she held.
As she exited, she could still feel Clarissa’s stunned gaze on her back.
