The Marriage Decree

Chapter 81: Thick, Unruly Hair

Draco leans against a cabinet in the potions classroom whilst Horace enthusiastically teaches the third years about something. He can't remember what was on the lesson plan for today and he hasn't been paying attention since the students arrived.

"Professor Malfoy," A girl in front of him nervously whispers.

He glances down at her, raising his eyebrows, signalling for her to carry on.

"Ar-are you okay, sir?" She asks him, her eyes shifting back to Professor Slughorn.

"Excuse me?" Draco frowns.

"You're glaring at me?" She says questioningly.

"I apologise, Miss Turner." He stands up straight and exits the classroom without a glance at Horace. He'll deal with the reprimanding from his mentor later.

He stalks down the corridor towards the staff rooms staircase, trying to remember if Hermione has a free period or if she'll be in the classroom with Minerva. Thankfully, their rooms are empty when he enters, so he locks the door behind him and throws his cloak over the back of the couch as he enters their study.

The day after their last visit with Lucius, two weeks ago, he had come to their Hogwarts rooms to rid himself of those ghastly letters. He'd hid them in an obscure potions book that Hermione would hopefully never be interested enough to pick off the shelf. He picks the book up, taking a deep breath before opening the book. One of the folded pieces of parchments inside slips out to the ground. He squats to pick it up, opening to reread. Each letter had been different but followed the same format. A short memory followed by an apology. His handwriting slowly deteriorating along with his mind.

He scoffs as his eyes flick to the last sentence. "I'm sorry, son. Don't forgive me."

As though Draco would ever forgive his father. He doesn't deserve it and knowing that Lucius knows he doesn't deserve it makes him angrier than he's been for a long time. The letters prove that Lucius has always been aware that his actions were... for lack of a better word, wrong and yet he continued to act in that way. His apology letters went back to Draco's fifth birthday when his father had cancelled his birthday party and locked him in his bedroom all day without any food. He can't even remember what he had done to deserve it, and neither could Lucius, but he still apologised for it and asked Draco not to forgive him.

He shoves the piece of parchment back inside the book, slamming it shut before forcing it back on the shelf. He can never forgive him and yet he can't forget about those damned letters. He wishes he could forget he ever read them in the first place.

Pansy sits at a small desk beside Professor Binns', stifling a yawn as she pretends to make notes. She had forgotten how monotonously quiet the Professor spoke whilst teaching. She casts her gaze across the bored faces of the first-year students, slumped across their desks. It annoys her that the students' first taste of History of Magic is insanely boring.

"Miss Parkinson!" Professor Binns shouts, or speaks at a higher volume; she doesn't think the ghost could speak much louder than a whisper.

"Yes, Professor?" Pansy sits up straighter, glancing at their students faces, who suddenly seemed interested in what Professor Binns had to say.

"Are you paying attention?" He asks her.

"No, I don't see any point in doing so, Professor." She admits truthfully and the students gasp, beginning to mutter to each other.

"Excuse me, Miss Parkinson?" He frowns at her.

"I already know all this, I don't see any point in listening to you try to teach these students about the Goblin Rebellion of 1852 again." She sighs.