Clarissa Snape [incomplete]

twenty-three

— Train Ride —

This chapter is solely inspired by Sherlock

"Sit down, Draco. We'll be arriving soon," said Pansy, motioning for the blonde to sit. I tuned them out and watched as the English scenery passed by as we rode to Scotland.

I shouldn't have to go I thought, I could so help the Dark Lord. I'm useless here; Draco already got the good mission.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" asked Blaise who was sitting diagonally from me as he pointed to my temple. I slapped it away and glared at him.

"Sorry," he said, shrinking slightly in his seat.

Draco rose and eyebrow but I gave him a 'later' look and went back to looking out the window.

A couple hours later, we arrived at Hogwarts, the carriages awaiting all the students in the upper years. Draco stayed behind for a reason that I would figure out later.

You see, there was a black fog for a moment before it disappeared completely and if you don't find that suspicious, I don't know what you will. Draco must have also seen the trunk beside Goyle move so he stayed after to investigate. 

During the feast, my father came walking into the Great Hall with Harry trailing behind him. The Potter boy gave Draco a hard glance, the blonde had returned a short time after the rest of the students had. Filch had done some security checks and had poked us with some dark-o-metre. It was quite funny actually, especially when Draco had been poked in some...uncomfortable places.

—

"Draco," I whispered, poking his sleeping figure all while clutching a bottle of Firewhiskey. 

"Hmm," he hummed like a sleepy baby. 

I rolled my eyes, "Get up!"

He opened one of his blue eyes and rose an eyebrow.

"Come down to the common room," I whispered and strode away, to the couches of the Slytherin clad room.

"What is the—Is that Firewhiskey?! Where'd you get that?" he whisper-yelled.

I shushed him and summoned two glasses before pouring the drink into the scotch designed cups.

"I found it in my father's cabinets," I replied, handing him a cup.

Only a few drinks later and the both of us were drunk, our young bodies not used to the alcohol. We sat in chairs that we pushed to face each other and I wrote names on pieces of paper before shuffling them and sticking them to our heads.

Draco's said, 'Gilderoy Lockhart.'

"Soo, am I... pretty?" he slurred, swaying slightly.

I giggled, "To most women, maybe some men."

"Wait, am I a guy?" he asked.

"Yes," I droned, leaning back into my chair.

"Okay, your turn," he said sipping some more of his whiskey.

"Hmm. Am I a guy?" I asked. He nodded and laughed, almost spitting out his whiskey.

"Wait," I said, my eyes drooping and pointed my finger around randomly.

"Do people like me?" 

He hummed, "Umm...no. You're very mean."

I thought for a moment and laughed a very, very drunk laugh, "Got it."