One In A Million {Draco Malfoy x Reader} √

Chapter Seven

The next day, you're at breakfast, about to fall asleep in your eggs. You didn't sleep well last night; you couldn't stop replaying those kisses in your head. Draco sits next to you, and you occasionally hold hands under the table, but never make eye contact. Not even Blaise was told about what happened the night before.

Parkinson, banished across from you, sneers when she sees your arms press together. You didn't mean for anyone to notice, and quickly pull apart. She glares, and you can see the raw hatred in her eyes. You glance away.

Draco has his hands folded in his lap. You glance down at them, wanting to take one, but then notice a black mark on his left arm. You lean in to examine it closer, but Draco notices and pulls his sleeve down. You look at him, but he doesn't meet your eyes.

What is he not telling you?

***

In the days that follow, you get invited to Slughorn's Christmas party. You don't want to let people know about Draco, so you go with Blaise as friends. You're wearing an emerald-hued dress that covers you knees and matching high-heeled shoes. Blaise leaves to talk with his other friends, and you decide to sit down and wait for someone to approach you.

Soon enough, though, Filch drags Draco into the room, and Draco is trying to break free of his grasp. "Professor," Filch sneers, "I found this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor."

Draco catches your eye. You remember the night before, and though you are upset that he is keeping secrets, you spring to your feet. "He's my date, Professor," you say. The students around you gasp and whisper, and you send them a few nasty glares before continuing. "I asked him to go retrieve something for me that I left up there."

"And what might that be?" Filch asks, loosening his grip on Draco.

"My Potions book. I'm sorry. Don't punish him, please." And with that, you sit back down.

"Well, that sounds reasonable, Mr. Filch," Slughorn says. "You may leave him here." And Filch leaves, grumbling angrily to himself.

Draco sits down at the table in the seat in front of you. "Thank you," he whispers, taking your hand. But you snatch it away.

"What were you really doing? And why?" you demand.

He sighs and looks down at his lap, then back up at you. He must see something in your eyes that allows him to trust you. "Alright. Come back to the common room, and this time, I'll really tell you everything."