Ivy || Draco Malfoy

17

I had decided that maybe spending a bit of time in the library would do me some good. I had long lusted to have a book in my hands a quill on paper. I didn't think I missed the simplest act of studying until I hadn't done it in a while.

I was nose deep in my potion's textbook when the rap of fingers took me out of my reading. A bushy-haired brunette sat across from me with a stern look on her face. She placed her own textbooks on the table with disinterest. She sat silently taking my sudden appearance in the library over. Her eyes were calculating, putting pieces together as we sat quietly.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" I asked placing my shut book down on the table.

She sat for a few more minutes chewing over whatever she wanted to talk about. I decided to give her my full attention. There had to be a good reason why the "Brightest Witch of our Age" wanted to talk to me. Over the last 7 months of school, I didn't pay much mind to what Hermione Granger thought about me or what was happening. In all honesty, I had a lot of more pressing things on my plate. I had completely let it slip my mind that if anyone was to piece something together it would be the most observant of the "Golden Trio".

"May I speak to you?" she asked her voice even. She pushed some hair out of her face with a slight tremble to the fingers. Where people scared of me?

"Of course," I nodded allowing her to ask whatever was persistently bothering her.

"It's about Harry...or well it's about a lot of things," she continued. She went into an analytical state where her feelings were no longer involved. She had questions that she needed answered and no amount of fear of the truth was going to get in her way.

"What do you want to know about Harry?" I asked in the most convincing confused voice I could conjure. It was my default to go into a state of feigned confusion when it came to Harry. I had drilled it into my brain faster than Dumbledore could ask me to keep silent. I was starting to roll around on white nights where sleep wouldn't come debating what it would mean for people to find out about Harry being my brother. They always ended with a Killing Curse on the tip of Voldemort's tongue. Sometimes its Harry himself but it's usually Voldemort. I sat with that thought a lot. Was I scared of Voldemort? Was I scared of death? Was I scared enough to fall into silence? I still haven't answered.

"There is something weird between the two of you," she said leafing through some of her papers. She had a quill writing for her as she shuffled through her belongings. I didn't particularly care what she was looking for but the pen dancing next to her bothered me. It gave me the vibe that I wasn't being asked questions by a fellow student but a journalist. I had my fair share of bad experiences with the Daily Profit as of late. Though they never targeted me, they were always around when I was with my friends. They would talk to me at parties or events trying to get information out of me. It was bothersome to feel like your life was public knowledge to anyone who was willing to pay top dollar to hear.

"Something weird? Don't expect that I'm dating him or something. I barley talk to your 'King'." I replied with more spite than anticipated.

"That's not what I meant." She answered with a simple eye roll. "I know you're a Potter." She continued. The way she looked at me was like she was expecting some kind of explosive response. I sat indifferently. I had seen this coming. I knew she put the pieces together the minute she sat down.

"Do you want me to deny it?" I asked resting my chin on my hands. I was in fact curious. What was she looking for from this conversation? A confirmation that she was right of course. I just wondered if there was more.

"I expected you to put up more of a fight. I didn't think you would give something like this away easily. Especially with Voldemort being...you know...who he is and his vendetta against the Potters and everything."