losers; drarry

malfoys don't get jealous

//PG-13//
//LATE UPDATE//

Draco was not having a good day.

He received an E on his Transfigurations essay, Pansy had spent the entire lunch period forcing him to listen to the intimate details of her new affair with Nott—and worst of all—he was having a bad hair day. The horror!

Normally, he had an emergency bottle of hair potion in his trunk, but last week he felt generous and lent Pansy his bottle. The bitch had used the entire thing, claiming she needed to look extra sleek to get Nott's attention. Yes, Pansy got laid, but now Draco was suffering the consequences. He knew all this being nice business was rubbish. All he had to show for his good deed was a pounding headache and a frizzy head of hair.

Draco sighed. Regardless of his mood, he had a ton of work to do, especially now that he was behind in Transfigurations. He readjusted the strap of his heavy bag and entered the library, heading for his favourite table in the corner, where he wouldn't be disturbed. Thank Merlin it wasn't occupied or he would have cursed whoever was sitting there without a second thought.

Slamming his bag on the table, Draco sat down and organised his study materials. No, he wasn't a swot. And yes, he had colour coordinated notes. Shut up.It was normal to have colour-coordinated notes and matching quills. Absolutely normal, no matter what Pansy said. He ignored all the scornful looks from the nearby Ravenclaws and opened up his books, lining them up just so and arranged his quills in a perfect straight line. It was time for some serious studying.

: : : : :

Losing himself in his studies had been easy. As soon as Draco opened his Potions book, he started reading about the possible ramifications of abusing Dreamless Sleep, and already he was tweaking the brewing procedure in his head, attempting to construct a less addictive and safer formula. He scribbled furiously on his parchment, his essay practically writing itself. Before he knew it, two hours had past and it was time to take his mandatory stretching break.

Draco made a loud spectacle of pushing back his chair and slamming all his books shut, making as much noise as possible to irritate the other students and distract them from their studies. After smirking at all the annoyed students, he walked around the library, stretching his arms behind his back and a smug look on his face. During his little breaks, Draco loved to tiptoe through the stacks and sneak up on unsuspecting first years, whispering a soft 'boo' in their ears and watching them yelp and jump in the air like a startled cat.

Today, the stacks were strangely deserted. Disappointed, Draco was about to head back to his table, when he heard a familiar laugh, coming from the opposite side of the stacks. He would know that laugh anywhere. Potter. His heart started palpitating in his chest and a small flutter resonated in his gut. Even after all this time, Potter still had a flustering effect on him, not that Draco would ever admit it.

Curiosity took over and Draco gingerly removed a book from the shelf, so he could spy on his ex-boyfriend. He knew that it was wrong, but oh hell, he was a Slytherin. Doing the right thing was overrated. He leaned closer to the bookshelf and held his breath, making sure that Potter wouldn't be able to hear him, not that Potter was that observant anyway.

Potter was leaning on a bookshelf, his head bowed and focused on a book, while Anthony Goldstein hovered over Potter's shoulder, his face just inches away from Potter's cheek.

"What is that you don't understand, Harry?" Goldstein purred Harry's name and licked his lips as he leaned even closer, putting his hand on Potter's shoulder. Lust gleamed in Goldstein's eyes, and Potter, of course, was oblivious.

Potter sighed, never taking his eyes off the book. "Pretty much everything." His voice was exasperated. "I've always been rubbish at Potions and—"