sweet talk ↯ draco malfoy

SIXTEEN

SIXTEEN | a bloody thing

THE COOL AIR circled around Rosalie as she sat at the base of a tree, an open letter in hand as she basked in the sunlight ⎯ a warm feeling in her chest from what she had just read.

She had received the letter from her owl, Orion, during breakfast and immediately knew who had written it. It was from her only friend in Africa, Caddy. So the brunette immediately set off onto the grounds, given that it was a beautiful Saturday and most students were at Hogsmead, to read the long awaited letter.

The letter, while shorter than Rosalie liked, didn't fail to leave a lingering feeling in her chest. Hearing from her friend ⎯ if that's what Caddy was even considered ⎯ was something that Rosalie would never admit she enjoyed.

Rosalie now leaned back against the tree, eyes closed as she soaked in the sunlight, let the cool air that encompassed her relax her stiff muscles.

Her eyes didn't open again until she heard footsteps approaching and a familiar voice above her.

"Got a letter from your boyfriend?" Draco asks, brook tucked under his arm with a smirk adoring his lips. "Did he gain some wits and break up with you?"

Rosalie rolls her eyes, squinting up at Draco ⎯ whose hair seemed to reflect the sunlight better than a mirror would.

"The letter is from my friend Caddy," Rosalie shakes her head. "And I don't swing that way."

"That would be unfortunate for me if you did," Draco says, dropping his broom before peeling off his practice robes and taking the open plot next to Rosalie.

"And what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Rosalie asks, stuffing her letter into her school bag as she watching Draco get comfortable ⎯ his shoulder pressed against her own as they lean up against the same tree.

"Quidditch is a tiring sport, Rose," he explains, waving his hand towards the Quidditch pitch. "But that's something you wouldn't understand, given your lack of athletic ability whatsoever."

Gasping in mock offense, Rosalie holds her hand over heart. "Draco Malfoy, how dare you insult a woman like that! Weren't you taught manners?"

Draco's grey eyes roll at Rosalie's outburst, his head leaned back as he takes deep breathes of the fresh air. Between school, the Inquisitorial Squad, and Quidditch practice, he rarely found time to unwind and relax.

But that's exactly what came to him when he sat at the truck of this tree, back pressed against the cool bark and shoulder rubbing Rosalie's.

Every touch from her numbed Draco's mind and body. It eased whatever malicious feeling he had and brightened the good. In her presence, Draco truly believe that he was unable to be in a foul mood.

"How is the Quidditch team looking?" Rosalie asks, her eyes scanning the grounds.

With a gentle sigh, Draco let his eyes settle on the pitch. He knew it was abandoned by now, having watched each of his players leave before he did himself. They had all stayed back from Hogsmead, needing the extra practice if they wanted to win against Gryffindor in the upcoming weeks.

"Not too shabby ⎯ but there's always room for improvement," Draco shrugs, his mind floating back to their practice.

"Practice makes perfect," Rosalie smiles, watching Draco stare absentmindedly at the Quidditch pitch.

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"You've never gotten a Howler from your parents?" Rosalie asked, her mouth agape as she watched Draco laugh, the sound rare.

He shakes his head, his locks brushing back and forth on his forehead. "Never."

"You're such a git, though!" She exclaims, her hands raising into the air with her words. "Do you not remember what happened with Buckbeak?"

"How do you know about that?" He said, his tone, a hint of playfulness it once lived in his voice had dispersed.

Rosalie runs her hand through her hair, shaking her head. "Ron told me about it the other day ⎯ said Buckbeak left a nice scar."

"What do you see in the filthy Weasley, anyways?" Draco said, his nose scrunching in disgust at the mention of the redhead. "Is he your little boyfriend?"

"No, Draco!" Rosalie scolds, eyes narrowing at him.

"What do you see in Ron anyways?" He monotonously repeats, a slight roll in his eyes.

"He's not a dim as everyone says he is, including you." Rosalie says, kicking Draco's foot with her own. "If you looked past his financial status, you'd see that he's bloody brilliant."

With a scoff, Draco shakes his head. "Malfoys don't associate with Weasleys ⎯ our fathers are at each other's throats."

Rosalie groans, shaking her head. "You and Ron aren't your fathers. You can have your own opinions, Draco."

"I do ⎯ "

"No you don't," Rosalie says. "You believe everything Lucius feeds you."

Not everyone had a blatant disrespect for their parents like Rosalie did ⎯ and she could understand why. Not all children could see the wrong doings or teachings of their parents, some just going along with it. Most just believed what their parents practiced, one of them being Draco, and preached it.

"My father isn't as bad as you'd think, Rose," Draco says, his voice faltering. He didn't know what to think about her blatant hatred for Lucius.

"He's a Death Eater, so I think I know how your father is," Rosalie says, his voice dipping lower as people glide past them.

"Don't you dare talk about him like that," Draco's voice is dangerous low, deepening with warning. "You don't know a bloody thing about him."

Rosalie's mouth fell agape at his harsh tone and bitter words, not witnessing the dark side of Draco in quite sometime.

"People only see him as that, as a bloody Death Eater," Draco continues with his monologue. "He's made mistakes like every other human, every other wizard, and yet they don't cut him a chance. They don't give him the benefit of the doubt."

"He's not as horrid as everyone thinks. Lucius hasn't always been a fair father, but he's my father and he has his good moments. They're scarce but present. He did what he had to do for my mother and I's safety."

Draco sighs, shaking his head. "And if it really boiled down to it, I would do the same. If it meant my family wasn't in danger, I'd do it too."

Rosalie shakes her head, reaching her hand forward to grasp his forearm. "Draco, you aren't your parents and you don't have to make the same mistakes as them. If you don't want to be a follower of You-Know-Who, then don't be. You have the power to carve your own path, to make your own decisions. You are in charge of your life, not your mother or your father, and certainly not Voldemort."

Draco let's a smile grow on his face, nodding along with the girl's words regardless of what's running through his head. He knew that one day, he would have to make a decision that would change his entire life.

And with Rosalie in his life, he knew he would do whatever possible to keep her safe.

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