Potter

Epilogue : Part 3/7

August 2002

The grounds of the Manor were notoriously pleasant in the summer time, the branches of trees far older than even Hogwarts casting shadows over the many plants and twisting pathways. As spring dawdled into summer, Draco had gotten into the habit of going out there to grade papers or exams when he came home, hiding himself inside the shadows as the breeze rifled at the corners of the parchment. 

It was a habit that continued even after the school year ended and the papers and exams turned into books, usually on Transfiguration to prepare for the upcoming school year. His dedication was admirable, especially on a day as sweltering as it was, the last triumph of summer before autumn arrived. His sleeves had been pushed up to his elbows though, shoes left discarded some feet away. 

And because I wasn't going to abandon him to the sweltering heat, I sat by his side, back against the tree and legs crossed over his lap, Pride & Prejudice carefully balanced on mine as I read. I'd never had much interest in the classics when I was younger, but as nothing I'd read when I was younger was published yet, I'd finally begun picking up the titles that would make my old high school teachers proud.

Draco just found it very entertaining.

"But you know how it ends," he said, having abandoned his attempt to read yet another text book to glance over my shoulder, eyes skimming over the page I was on. "Why are you bothering to read it now?"

"It's a classic. Everyone knows how it ends. The point is the stuff in between," I murmured, closing the book but using my thumb to hold it in place as I looked up at him. "And I've never read the book. I've only seen the film."

"There's a film?"

"Not yet, but there will be," I sighed, slipping the bookmark into place before setting my book aside. "How's the reading coming along?"

"The heat is making it difficult to think," Draco admitted, looking quiet put-out. The heavy book lay in his lap, a few sentences underlined, others scratched out entirely. He stared at it, brows pinched together in annoyance. "It's dated though– I can't believe the school bothers to use it."

"Ask McGonagall," I suggested. "I'm sure she'll have something else in mind."

"I did, and she told me that as I was now the professor, she'd trust whatever I see fit to choose," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'm really just going through this for fun now. It's cathartic to marvel at how utterly wrong someone can be."

"Of course it would be. You're so typically Slytherin sometimes, you know that?"

"I'm sorry, who's the witch who insisted on taking on back-to-back twelve hour shifts from the good of her red-and-gold heart?"

"They needed help!" I cried, even as I cringed at the reminder. One of the other Healers, a witch named Emaline, had gotten a horrendous flu before her shift last week. "I didn't do it for the sick pleasure of proving someone wrong."

He rolled his eyes. "Like you don't ever enjoy being right too."

"I'm not as sadistic about it."

"Sadistic?" His face twisted into a sneer. "Hardly."

"You're starting to make Severus look like a puppy. Really, I almost feel bad for your students– suffering under Professor Malfoy's iron rule–"

"If you'll remember, I extended their due dates for their final papers by a week. Voluntarily. Because they were stressed, and I cared."

"Oh, that's right– you are a softie, aren't you?" I hummed, smirking. He rolled his eyes, shifting his book onto the ground beside him before he moved. For a moment, I thought he was going to stand up. Instead he rolled, pulling me from my spot by the tree and to the ground with him. I laughed, bracing my hands on his chest as he settled atop me, only to frown as I noticed my book and the cover flipped awkwardly in half.