Henrietta Potter || Draco Malfoy

35 - A Birthday Treat

Draco went back to being his usual sulky self.

I tried to apologise to him the following day at dinner, but he blanked me, acting as though he had not been shoving his tongue down my throat at every given opportunity.

"Draco, please," I begged, as he pushed me aside to get to the Slytherin table. "Don't just ignore me like this."

But he refused to even look at me, storming off and leaving me stood with a baffled looking Ron and Hermione.

"Bloody hell, Etta," Ron spluttered. "What was that about?"

"I tried to thank him for getting Smith off my back at the ball, but then he went and accused me of following him about like some kind of stalker!"

"Well, he's not exactly wrong, Etta." Hermione tutted. "Need I remind you of Knockturn Alley? Or the time you snuck into his compartment on the train? I don't like Malfoy much, but I can't help but feel a bit sorry for him. It's a complete invasion of his privacy."

I nearly blurted out that he was not exactly complaining when he was grinding his cock against me, but decidedly chose to keep that part quiet.

And then there was the time when I bumped into him walking down the corridor with two giggly girls whom I had never seen before.

I was already in a fucking grumpy mood, running late to play in a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff.

"Where're you going?" I asked, trying but failing to conceal the hurt in my voice as I gripped my broomstick tightly in my hand.

"Yeah, I'm really going to tell you, because it's your business, Potter," he sneered at me. "You'd better hurry up; they'll be waiting for the Chosen Captain - the Girl Who Scored - whatever they call you these days."

He pushed past me and one of the girls giggled. I threw her a filthy look, making her blush as she scurried after Draco and her friend. I watched, my stomach burning in jealously as they disappeared around the corner.

And then Ron's seventeenth birthday happened.

Bursting into his dormitory, I jumped onto his bed and woke him up by singing 'Happy Birthday' loudly in his ear. His grumpiness soon dissipated when I shoved a present in his face.

But then, as he began stuffing chocolates in his gob, he started harping on about Romilda Vane and talking about her having his babies or some shit. Because I am so obviously brilliant, I guessed right away that the chocolates had been contaminated with some sort of love potion.

Remembering the assignment Dumbledore had set me about retrieving some important memory from Professor Slughorn, I decided to kill two birds with one stone and took him to his office.

That turned out to be a bit of a bad idea, though, seeing as Ron nearly died from drinking poisoned mead.

Although, it kind of served him right for underage drinking at nine o'clock in the fucking morning.

"Professor!" I screamed at Slughorn as Ron jerked violently on the floor of his office. "Do something!"

But the gormless idiot just stood there.

So, like the hero that I am, I leapt impressively over the sofa to Slughorn's potion cupboard before dramatically throwing myself back down to where Ron was doing a top-notch impression of a dog with rabies and shoved a bezoar in his gob.

I knew, thanks to the scribbles in my potion book, that the kidney shaped stone was the antidote to everything. This Half-Blood Prince is awesome - I must name my child after him one day.

And, even though I saved his life and kept a constant vigil by his hospital bedside for the rest of the day, the first name that came to Ron's lips when he regained consciousness was 'Hermione'. Fucking charming.

"How did this even happen?" Hermione shook, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a tissue like some kind of grieving widow.

"Slughorn's bottle of mead had been poisoned." I gritted darkly through clenched teeth. "It had been meant for Dumbledore, just like the necklace."

"What?!" Hermione gasped as her hand clutched at her heart.

I knew what this meant. Draco. He had been behind the necklace - which meant he had been behind this too. I just knew it.

I wanted to kill him.

Leaving Ron that night, I went straight to my dormitory and snatched up the Marauders Map.

"Really, Etta?" Hermione sighed heavily as she climbed into bed. "Now?"

"Yes, fucking now," I snarled, searching determinedly for his name. "No one poisons my best friend and gets away with it."

"But we don't even know if it was definitely Malf-"

"Open your eyes! Of course it was Malfoy!"

Finally locating him on the seventh floor, I grabbed my Invisibility Cloak and left.

I angrily tore off the cloak the second I saw him.

Draco froze, shock registering on his face as I thundered towards him like an angry rhinoceros.

"You!" I spat, shaking in fury. "You fucking bastard! You could have killed him! You could have killed my best friend!"

My fists flew at his chest and I hammered them as hard as I could, wanting to cause him as much pain as possible. All the anger I felt about what he had done, on top of his rejection, driving me to the brink of madness.

"Potter!" He shouted, trying to grab at my flailing arms. "Calm down, would you!"

But I refused to listen. All I could think about was Ron foaming at the mouth as I continued to wildly pelt my fists before Draco finally managed to restrain me.

"For fuck's sake, Potter!" he roared in my face, hotly shaking my wrists. "Have you gone completely mental? What the fuck are you on about?"

"The bottle of mead," I snarled, spitting up at his furious face, "the one meant for Dumbledore. Just like the necklace!"

Draco's eyes widened a fraction, but he did not say anything. We stood there staring at one another, his fingers still painfully gripping my wrists as I struggled to contain my heated uneven breaths.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he eventually spoke, his voice quiet.

A great, overwhelming sense of exhaustion came over me, causing my body to sag heavily. I felt tired and exasperated, fed up with trying to get through the wall Draco had built around him.

"You do, Draco," I said weakly, almost pleadingly, "I know you do."

His expression changed, softening almost, and it was now I could see just how exhausted himself he looked. As my eyes searched his face for answers, I felt his grip loosen on my wrists and something flickered in his eyes. He opened his mouth and very quietly started to stutter. "I- I-"

But whatever he was going to say next, I never found out due to my scar exploding in pain.

***