Henrietta Potter || Draco Malfoy

37 - Trouble in Paradise

The first thing I saw when I yawned awake were legs. Lots of legs that belonged to many chairs and tables. It took me a very confused moment to work out what and why I was doing laying on a dusty old floor in what appeared to be a classroom.

And then I looked down and saw an arm that wasn't mine draped languidly over my middle. And my heart instantly fluttered.

Draco was asleep next to me. He had stayed with me all night.

My last recollection of the previous night was him curling against me and pressing his lips down upon my scar. I must have fallen asleep through my exhaustion. How on earth I managed to sleep on a hard floor was beyond my comprehension.

Wincing, I sat up, being careful not to disturb Draco. My scar prickled, reminding me that I needed to go and tell Dumbledore at once. He would know what this all meant.

I looked down at Draco and sighed. I shouldn't have told him about Voldemort being angry. If he was indeed a Death Eater, then this could be very dangerous for the both of us.

If.

My eyes darted to his left arm which had been draped over me. It had now flopped to the floor where I had sat up. All I had to do was lift his sleeve up just enough to see. My heart hammered in my chest as my fingers shakily went to his cuff. I quickly looked back at his face, making sure his eyes were still closed. They were. I hesitated. Should I do this?

It felt wrong to betray him like that after he had been so kind to me. But then again, I needed to know. And Ron was lying in the hospital wing recovering from a near death experience because of something Draco potentially did.

As quickly as possible I started to move his sleeve upwards. But before I could lift it up enough to reveal anything, a hand shot out of nowhere and grabbed my fingers painfully, making my eyes water.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Potter?"

To say Draco looked furious would have been an understatement. His grey eyes bulged angrily as he breathed noisily through flared nostrils. When I did not immediately answer, he hissed, squeezing my fingers tighter.

"Ow!" I gritted, my eyes stinging as I winced in pain. "You're hurting me!"

"I spent the night on a hard dusty floor for you," he seethed, finally letting go of my hand as he flung it down in disgust, "and yet this is fucking typical of you, Potter."

"Ron could have died." I said quietly, looking down as I cradled my fingers against my chest. Somehow, the hurt and disappointment in his eyes was a lot more difficult to bear than his anger.

"I don't care!" he raged, his voice almost choking in his fury. "I don't give a flying fuck, Potter!"

He jumped up, angrily snatching his jacket up off the floor, making me flinch as he snapped it down by his side.

"And to think I actually felt sorry for you last night," he snarled, before storming across the room and yanking open the door. "Do me a favour, Potter and look the other way next time I walk past you."

"Draco, wait-" I began to cry out, desperately wanting to explain.

But he had already slammed the door shut behind him.

Well, if he isn't a Death Eater then I'll eat my knickers.

***

As much as it saddened me, I adhered to Draco's request and left him alone. Besides, Dumbledore was getting all mardy with me over the lack of progress I had achieved in getting Slughorn's missing memory.

Christ alive, if it's so vital to him, then why doesn't he just get off his lazy arse and do it himself? I had shit loads of homework and moody teenage dramas to deal with.

And when I subtly suggested that he could have a word with the other professors about going easy on me with the work load, he simply chuckled.

"And have people accuse me of favouritism, Etta? I don't think that would be a good idea, do you?"

Well, yes, actually. I thought it would be a fucking fantastic idea. But what did I know? I was just a sixteen year old girl with the entire fucking universe on my shoulders.

And I still had not gotten laid yet.

Speaking of, I seemed to be going two steps forward and then fucking thirteen back when it came to Draco Malfoy. He was one moody ass bitch.

During one particular Potions lesson, there were only three students due to the others doing their Apparition tests. Ernie McMillan, Draco and I were the only ones who hadn't turned seventeen yet so we were stuck in Potions together.

It made it more difficult to act as though Draco did not exist. Whilst Slughorn wittered on at the front of the class, I stole a glance at the white-blond haired Slytherin. I almost gasped out loud at how rundown his appearance had become; the shadows under his eyes looking darker than ever against his washed out pale complexion. And he looked sad... so sad.

I couldn't help myself, as soon as Slughorn had set us the task of brewing an 'amusing' potion, I jumped off my seat and marched straight over to Draco's desk.

"Draco," I said gently.

He looked up from his book with a sulky expression upon his face, his grey eyes flashed in annoyance. "What?"

"Look, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry," I said as he continued to glare at me. I could tell my presence wasn't welcome in the slightest.

"I thought I told you to stay away from me, Potter," he gritted menacingly through clenched teeth.

Jeez, I was only trying to be nice.

But I took a deep calming breath and continued anyway, despite Draco's blunt hostility towards me.

"What you did, the other night... no one has ever done anything like that for me before, and I had no right to abuse your trust like that and try to see your Dark Mar-"

Draco slammed his book down hard on the desk, cutting me off, his eyes practically bulging out at me in fury.

"Damn it, Potter! Just leave me the fuck alone!"

And without another word, he stood up, stuffed his things in his bag and swooped off out of the classroom.

A gentle cough made me look to my right, where Slughorn and Ernie were watching me with great interest at the next table.

"Trouble in paradise, eh, Miss Potter?" Slughorn said rather amusedly, raising his eyebrows.

He didn't know the half of it.

***