Harry Potter One Shots And Imagines

Draco Malfoy- Potter (c)

You had hoped for a peaceful evening in the Slytherin common room, but as soon as you saw the blond walk in you knew that was never going to happen. Draco's voice rang out as he made his way to sit on the sofa opposite you. He let out a triumphant sigh as he dropped on the green clad sofa.

"Can you believe Potter? What a cheek? He pities that mudblood Granger and the disgrace of a wizard he considers friends yet he considers me petty. Me? Thee Draco Malfoy, petty? I think not." He rambled on. It was the same spiel you had heard on several occasions when it came to conversations about Harry there was very little he would be able to say that you hadn't heard from him before.

Without even looking up from the book you were attempting to read you jutted out one arm to point towards the glass receptacle that was carefully placed on the coffee table between you.

"Jar."

That was the only word you said as you flicked the page to continue to read.

"What?" His shrill voice harshly said.

You raised your gaze from your book carefully placing your bookmark to indicate where you had reached before you let out a deep sigh knowing you were just going to prolong conversation about the Gryffindor.

"I've started a jar for you to put a sickle in every time you talk about Potter. I've already taken ten galleons from your wallet and put it in there to cover yesterday. The money can go towards my therapy to get over your fawning over Harry Potter. Oh, Handsome Potter. Perfect Little Potter. Potter and his bloody scar," You sighed imitating Draco's way of discussing the poor boy who lived.

Draco looked disgusted with the fact that you could ever suggest that he ever spoke about Harry on a remotely frequent basis, especially if it could possibly be anything but derogatory- he wasn't the one that had to listen to himself constantly going on though.

"How could you even speculate that I could ever like Harry Potter? Why would I like Potter? You must be daft. No Slytherin as great as I could ever like some stupid Gryffindor like Potter," he stated offended with such a presumption.

You cocked an eyebrow at him.

"I don't believe I ever speculated anything. I merely said you talked about him a lot, you're the one that brought up liking him. Nevertheless, whether it is a crush, which we all know it is, or blind hatred, which you seem to believe, you still owe the jar money. So, chop chop."

He spluttered incoherent words as he attempted to find an argument for his point but you gave him a firm glare pointing to the jar once more forming him to comply and put money into it.

~*~

Written by Charlotte.

Requested by