The Forgotten Potter; DM

XLV. The Potters & Their Dragons

[2750 Words]

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She laughed.

The noise spilt out of her, childish and unrestrained, the kind that didn't just fill the air but seemed to catch at something inside him. The corners of her green eyes crinkled, a glint sparking there as if she'd just thought of something wicked, and for a moment he swore he could get drunk off the sound alone. The night breeze caught her black hair, tossing it across her face until she absently swept a few strands back from her forehead- an unthinking little motion that made it impossible to look elsewhere.

"Ah, so that's your strategy?" Ivy said, her eyes flicking back to his, her dimples deep. "Insult me until, what, I lose out of spite?" She was leaning against the cold stone balustrade, moonlight painting her in silver, as if she belonged to the night.

Draco almost missed the words entirely. He was too busy watching the faint moonlight catch along her cheekbone, the slight arch of her brow. The Astronomy Tower stretched out behind her, night air whipping at her hair, but all he could see was her.

"Seems like it would work on you," He replied automatically, though his voice was quieter than intended.

She rolled her eyes at him, slow and deliberate- the green glistening in the moonlight- but her mouth curved into a smirk. "You do realise I'm going to win this bet, Malfoy."

He should've scoffed, told her she didn't stand a chance. Instead, he let his gaze linger a fraction too long, his chest tightening with a thought he had suppressed for too long: she's beautiful. Not in the way people whispered in corridors, not in the detached way he'd said it about other girls- beautiful in a way that made him want to step closer, that made him wonder how her laugh might sound if it was because of him, and not just at him.

The distance between them felt thinner than it should.
And for the first time, Draco finally accepted what he refused to admit for so long- he didn't just want to win, he wanted her.

"Maybe I don't want you to win."

The words slipped out before he could stop them. Too soft, too revealing.

Her brow arched, eyes narrowing just enough to make his pulse jump. He looked almost startled by his own admission, but he didn't take it back.

Draco took a step closer, breath catching in the cool night air. "Ivy... what if you were right? What if everyone was right?" His voice lowered, almost hoarse. "I'm selfish. I want to win- not for the glory, but because... I desperately want to be the one you dance with at the Yule Ball. If someone's going to earn your eye-rolls, your glares, I want it to be me."

She didn't move. Didn't speak.

He took another step closer.
"If you're going to laugh like that, or smile like that... I want it to be directed at me. If you're going to dance with someone, stand so close they can feel your breath... I want that someone to be me." He swallowed. "What then?"

Her lips were parted, surprise flashing in her green eyes, but there was something else there too, something that tangled in his chest. She angled toward him, head tilting ever so slightly.

"Draco..." Ivy's gaze swept over his face, lingering on his mouth before meeting his eyes again. "Maybe I want it to be you as well. Maybe I... I want you, just as much."

The air between them shifted, heavy and warm despite the night breeze.

"But," She breathed, "Can you honestly say you deserve it? Do you think you deserve my kindness- deserve me- after the way you act, after all you've said and done?... Do you deserve me, Draco?"