Love's Potion [Dramione]

Chapter 9

Madame Pomfrey had managed to perform a miracle on Draco's nose, which was all healed and just as perfect as ever by lunchtime. Sadly, however, nothing could be done to save his reputation.
It was one thing to be punched by a girl in front of a large crowd of people, but it was quite another to be punched by a mudblood girl in front of a large crowd of people. And then, of course, there was the embarrassing incident of Pansy Parkinson, of all people, rushing to his rescue. Draco Malfoy did not need a girl – or anyone for that matter – to defend him. He could do it on his own. Not that he even needed defending. The mudblood's punch was very weak, and not very painful at all, and he could have hexed her into oblivion right then and there. He liked to think that he would have, had Pansy not stepped in. But...why exactly did he save Granger from her again? If Pansy had killed her, she would have been doing something Draco had wanted to do for years. And the beautiful part of that would be that Granger would be dead, and Pansy would be sent to Azkaban. He could have gotten rid of his least favorite girls in the world in one fell swoop. He couldn't help but smile at the thought.

Nearly everyone in Slytherin was now aware of the fact that Draco had been sucker-punched by the Gryffindor bookworm, but none of them knew the real story. Some were under the impression that he had cried after the blow; others were under the impression that the attack had been so severe, that they were surprised to learn that Madame Pomfrey had not needed to reconstruct his face. As for the rest of the Slytherins, they were too busy sniggering at him to really pay attention to any of the rumors.

The only Slytherin who could speak to Draco without poking fun at him was Blaise, who had cornered him in the hallway outside the Great Hall, just before lunch.

"So let me get this straight," Blaise said. "So you were playing the mudblood all along?"

Something about Blaise's question made Draco cringe. "That is correct."

"Right...okay..." Blaise looked deep in thought. "So when you told me yesterday that you were not playing her, you lied to me?"

"Correct again."

"But you seemed so sincere about liking her."

"Like I told Granger, Zabini, I'm an amazing actor."

"Sure, sure," Blaise said in a tone of voice that made Draco think Blaise wasn't believing what he was hearing. "So then why didn't you just admit it when I asked you?"

"Because I couldn't trust that you wouldn't tell anyone."

"Oh please, Draco, you know you can trust me, and I know that you know that." He narrowed his eyes at him. "So what exactly was the point of this?"

Draco sighed with annoyance. "The point of what, Zabini?"

"The point of seducing Granger as a joke."

"The point, Zabini, was to humiliate her."

Blaise smiled. "And yet, she was the one who ended up humiliating you."

Draco frowned. "That's not how I see it, Zabini," he hissed.

"You want to know how I see it?" Blaise said, widening his grin. "I think you're in love with Granger."

Draco nearly choked on his spit. "Excuse me? If that's how you see it, then I suggest you go get your eyes examined. I am not in love with Granger." He shifted his gaze over to the group of approaching Slytherins, including Crabbe and Goyle. "Now would you please keep your voice down?" he warned Blaise.

"How's your nose, Malfoy?" Goyle asked, slapping Draco playfully on the back. Crabbe snickered.

"It's doing just fine, thanks," he replied through clenched teeth. As annoyed as he was with the Slytherin group's arrival, he was also relieved for the distraction from his current conversation with Blaise.