Love/Hate - Draco x Reader.

5

You were walking around the halls with Draco, Pansy and the others. All your classes had finished but you had time to spare until dinner. You notice people staring at you and you walked by. Instantly thinking maybe you had some icing smeared on your face from the cake earlier.

Trying to be subtle, you wipe your face and keep walking. But people don't stop the stares.

You then notice it's because you're in a group. You have friends.

Friends.

Something you never actually intended on having. But here you are, in a fairly large group taking over the hall. You were popular. And people were scared.

You never understood why people were so terrified of Slytherin, you believe that they are not all bad people.

"Y/N" Your thoughts get interrupted when Draco nudges you.

"Hmm?"

He doesn't answer, just offers a small smile in which you return without a second thought.

You hear a small huff next to you and see Pansy scowling at her feet.

Feeling like you're no longer welcome, you walk a little bit faster, getting a few feet a head of them, suddenly feeling like all you want to do is crawl into bed and never leave.

"Owww, crap." You mutter as your body collides into someone else and you fall to the ground.

Standing up, you wipe all the dirt off your skirt.

"Sorry bout' that." You mumble, too embarrassed.

"You better be sorry, Jesus Y/L. Watch where you're going, bloody hell." He sneered.

You finally look up and instantly notice red hair and pale freckles.

"Oh, it's you."

"Most people are sorry, but you don't care at all." You hear Hermoines voice speak. You just realize that the three of them are together.. well, when are they not?

"I don't care about any of you." You shoot back.

"Of course you don't. You're selfish." Harry defends.

"Watch it, Potter. I'm not in the mood for your pathetic insults that have no effect on me."

"Oh? But I was just getting started-"

"Why, what do we have here?" How is Draco always around.

"Malfoy." Ron glares.

"Little Weasel here is clearly needing an attitude adjustment." Draco says, while grabbing his wand out.

Instead you grab Draco's hand and run down the hall, out into the courtyard.

"Are you alright, Y/N?" Draco's voice soft, like it held concern.

"I'm fine, just noticing how many enemies I have made." You sigh.

You try to let go of Draco's hand, but he grips it a little tighter instead.

"The holidays are coming up." He announces after a short period of time.

"Hmm. The end of the year in a couple of months as well."

"See now, the mood is depressing again." He sighs.

You chuckle.

"Because it'll be the end of the year? But it's an extra long holiday." You giggle.

"But I won't see youuuuuu." He pokes your side and you let out a little squeak.

Suddenly Draco's face is covered in his smirk and he pokes your side repeatedly, making you burst into laughter.

Eventually you both calm down.

"Seriously though, I'll have to have you come over at some point." He smiles.

"Yeah, that'd be nice." You reply.

Eventually you and Draco went your separate ways when you got back to the Slytherin common room. You were about to collapse on your bed and take a nap before the fest but someone had already bet you do it.

You chuckled lightly.

"Pansy, what are ya doing in my dorm?"

She stayed silent and stared at the floor.

"Pansy?" You ask concerned.

"He's mine.." She trailed off.

"Sorry?"

"Draco. He's mine. Please back off." She asked, her voice getting a little more stern.

Her request took you a bit off guard. You knew Pansy liked Draco, but this was low-key possessive.

"You can't claim someone. That's not right." You fight back.

"I love him!"

"You don't know what love is! You're 11!"

She sighed and stood up.

"I may be young, but I know what love is. I know what this feeling is. And I hate that Draco will never see me in that way while you're still here. So do us all a favor, and leave us the hell along!" Her voice raising louder and louder towards the end.

It was silent for a moment, and she took the hint, and left my dorm.

So much for friends.