Nyctophilia ➳ Draco x Reader

VIII;

WHAT COULD POSSIBLY BE BETTER than the winter weather and walking around Hogsmeade? Enjoying a butterbeer, of course. Draco decided to do just that after he left Gladrags Wizardwear, and staggered his way through the thick snow to reach the Three Broomsticks Inn. He entered the crowded pub, taking in the suddenly warm atmosphere.

Draco walked up to the bar area, seeing Madam Rosmerta and cleared his throat to get the woman's attention, who was currently mixing a few drinks.

"What may I get for you today?" She said, without having to look at the blonde boy to know he was there.

"One Butterbeer." Draco replied, his eyes wandering around for a place to sit after placing a few galleons on the bar counter.

Everywhere around him, all the seats were full or occupied with people he strongly disliked. He grimaced at the thought of how there were so many mudbloods and poor wizards that surrounded him. Did these people always have to ruin his day?

Madam Rosmerta interrupted Draco out of his train of thought by placing a mug of foaming Butterbear in front of him. The Slytherin took it in hand, and looked at the glass in satisfactory before taking a sip. He took a moment to appreciate the sweet taste of the drink, and then started to make his way through the pub.

Maneuvering around his fellow students, as well as some from the other two schools (making sure not to touch anybody that could infect his Malfoy skin and blood), he landed himself in front of an empty seat. Across from it, a lonely girl who was none other than the vanilla scented Slytherin.

Smirking and uninvited, the Malfoy took the seat. She seemed to be writing intently, scattered around her were a few quills, a bottle of ink, and what looked to be sheets of music.

She glanced up from the sudden noise of the chair scratching against the wood floor in front of her, only to meet a familiar pair of gray eyes. One of the many pairs of eyes that can make her instantly scowl.

"I don't remember inviting you to sit with me." She spat. "What do you want?"

"I want to enjoy a Butterbeer, of course." Draco held up his mug, his eyes almost lighting up as she rolled her eyes.

"What's that on your head? It looks like a..." She beamed mischievously and tilted her head in curiosity before adding, "Ferret."

The blonde boy clenched his jaw and suddenly his grip on his mug was a lot tighter than before. She just had to go there and mention that. Luckily, Draco knew how to cross lines too.

"What's that on you? It looks like a..." He mocked, looking down at the thick white coat she wore, which was extremely fluffy. "Polar bear. Quite chubby, I see."

If looks could kill, Draco would most definitely be dead right now. But Phoenix composed herself, and took a deep breath. "If you've come here to trade insults, I suggest you leave."

"Nope, can't do that." Draco huffed, leaning back in his chair to get comfortable in a taunting way. He actually didn't come here to trade insults- that was just a bonus- so why would he leave?

"Why not?" She was getting more and more annoyed by the second.

"This is the only seat not taken."

His gray eyes flickered for a moment at what she was doing before he had arrived. She was clearly studying music- oddly enough- perhaps just for fun. Two pieces laid on the table between the two Slytherins, one named Pachelbel's Canon and the other Gymnopédie.