ALLURING || D.M.

Chapter 52

Thick cider aroma clouded her nostrils the moment she stepped in, heating charm melting the tiny bits of snow clinging to her boots. The Three Broomsticks was louder than Lilianne remembered. Voices overlapped constantly in a mix of laughter and shouting, the scrape of chairs and Madam Rosmerta's commanding tone as she ushered some teenage couple to leave if they wanted to continue their excessive snogging.

Draco slowed just inside the door, one he'd crossed far too many times for his liking in the past couple months. Blonde curls bounced as the woman lectured, huffing loudly when the girl in said couple rolled her eyes at her. The Malfoy boy followed quietly after his friends, "This place is packed" Pansy said immediately, her nose wrinkling as she looked around in distaste.

He didn't take his coat off or loosen his scarf, merely sat at the end of the booth they'd pick. The collar stayed turned up around his neck, pale hair still dusted faintly with melted snow. His shoulder brushed Pansy's as he adjusted his grip on the satchel, drawing it closer to himself. Breathe, he relaxed his shoulders, or intended to anyway.

The booth behind them was half-occupied by a group of Ravenclaws who eyed them with open curiosity before shifting just enough to make space for a few more. For a few seconds they settled in when Madam Rosmerta passed, "Hello chaps, something to drink? A bite?" the woman flipped her notebook open, a thin chalk between her fingers.

"A jar of your finest butterbeer" Nott stretched his arm along the back of the top cap, "I'm feeling nostalgic". A couple bowls of chips and some dip was more than sufficient besides their butterbeers, it'd been less than two hours since breakfast. Malfoy ordered a butterbeer without looking up, voice clipped as he fixed on the scratch of the table.

She was distracted by the sudden noise, the warmth seeping back into her fingers even with her gloves off. Lestrange unwound her scarf, smoothing it absentmindedly, and leaned forward as Corine launched into a complaint about the walk from the castle. "Someone's going to break an ankle before winter's over" Excelfan said, blowing into her hands before wrapping them around her mug as it arrived.

As the scene grew on her friends, they kept looking out for every once in a while, Blaise being the only one to react out of the conversation to raise his butterbeer to someone at walking by. Theo looked over, "Bootlicker" he muttered under his breath, receiving a knock on the back of his head from the Zabini boy.

"Just because you can't" Blaise mocked, cleaning a bit of foam on his finger with a napkin. Pansy rolled her eyes, "Enough with this" she pressed her hands on her silky hair, smoothening it quietly. "I don't even go to class with him, why would I care?" Theo said brightly.

"Cause I don't have to hide my drinks on school nights" Zabini spoke, long fingers drumming against the side of his glass. "I don't drink with an old geezer" Nott exclaimed. Zabini snickered dismissively, "Silver lining" he admitted with a shrug.

"You know the last time we spoke in class, he was going on and on with this, asked if I would send his apologies to my step-father for missing the wedding" He gestured with the mug in his hand, "I was on the verge of asking which one? I lost track long ago".

A collective laugh rippled around the table, a continued line of comments on the new potions professors followed. "Oh but the dinners, Blaise you have to take me to the next one" Pansy whined, careful to check if the blond next to her had a response. "Keep dreaming Pans, that's my ladies spot" Zabini flirtatiously pressed on his shirt.

"Oh please, I bet he just sits around sucking up to Slughorn huh?" Theo leaned over, crossing his arms as he looked at Corine, the only other person in the group to have been invited to the famous Slug Club parties. The redhead pretended to think about it, drawing out Zabini's indignation, "He actually talks to people" she nodded finally. "No" Nott smiled sheepishly, "You, all by your lonesome" he referred to the usually quietest of the group.