𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥? 〚𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚏𝚘𝚢 〛

Chapter 10

I knew that at some time or another, I would have the chance to earn the respect of not only the Slytherins, but of the entire school. I just wasn't expecting it to be so soon. 

An hour and a half later, to be exact. 

To everyone's surprise, Severus Snape, the old potions master, would teach defense against the dark arts. 

Initially, I had thought about skipping this class, before being convinced otherwise by Ginny, who believed I would find it interesting. Some things couldn't be experienced by reading about it, she had said smugly, as if winning a personal battle against Hermione.

"Good afternoon, sir," I told Snape, testing whether or not I was still on his good side.

His gaze softened when seeing me. "Good afternoon, Miss Collins."

Charles stared, dumbfounded, as I sat beside him. "How did you manage that?"

I smiled innocently and nodded towards Milicient and her friends, who responded. 

The dark haired boy shook his head. "Unbelievable."

"Hush," I quieted him as Snape started walking through the class.

"It was brought to my attention that most of you have only once come face to face with a boggart. Therefore, as a small challenge, which even the most dimwitted of you all should be able to complete, you will be facing a boggart."

A loud thump! echoed through the classroom as the boggart trashed inside a wardrobe.

"In line, the lot of you!"

"Professor Snape," whispered Draco, seated behind me.

I frowned slightly, trying to focus my attention on what he was saying, to no avail. The silver haired boy hissed his next words as the rest of the class lined up in front of the wardrobe.

I lingered back.

"Miss Collins, Mr Malfoy," said Snape. I walked over, carefully navigating between the desks. "Please step aside, you will be watching your classmates. Take notes."

Draco looked straight ahead, his expression set into one of cold contemplation. 

I barely glanced his way, instead nodding to Severus, who, with a flick of my wand, opened the wardrobe's door. One by one, the students faced their worst fears. I shivered, wondering what would appear if I were to face the boggart. Malfoy leaned sideways.

"Scared Collins?" he whispered.

"Interested if anything," I replied in a low voice. "You, on the other hand..."

"No one would be able to stand my fear without running away screaming," he said, as if joking.

I turned my head to the side, surprised and he pulled away. I almost believed his pleasantry but unfortunately for him, the dark look in his eyes betrayed him. Lost in thoughts, I barely noticed that the line had shortened considerably. 

"Riddikulus!" the last student cried.

The boggart looked around, confused, finally making eye contact with me. It switched its gaze to Draco, as if attracted to the fear he felt. The entire class went silent, even Snape was holding his breath, refusing to intervene.

Obeying to an impulse I couldn't comprehend, I stepped in front of Draco, taking on the wrath of the boggart. 

It reared back in its previous form and slowly turned to black, stretching upwards. In a matter of seconds, it had transformed into a cloaked figure, its face hidden by a large hood. A skeletal hand reached out for me as someone yelled.

"Dementor!"

The entire class scrambled away, running into walls with panicked shouts. I stumbled back, waiting for the cold emptiness to wash over me.

But nothing came. It was only a boggart. 

Remembering the tango lessons my mother had attempted at taking, I imagined the Dementor wearing her pink dress. I raised my hand, face to face with the dementor.

"Riddikulus," I said in the most confident voice I could muster.

The boggart twisted and spun, ending up dressed in an awful pink dress that clung to the body. After my initial shock, I chuckled, the entire class joining in. Snape flicked his wand and the boggart flew back into the wardrobe.

"Five points for Slytherin. Congrats Miss Collins," he said.

As I exited the classroom, a wave of whispers moved through the crowd, following me until the next turn. There, I paused, leaning back against the wall with a sigh. 

I felt drained, and nervous. I didn't enjoy the stares.

"Collins," Draco touched my shoulder with the tip of his fingers before recoiling as I shot away from the wall.

I must've shut my eyes for a moment longer than I thought. 

The boy straightened and cleared his throat. "Do I have your attention now? I'd hate to touch you again, your impurity stings."

"At least it keeps people away."

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "At least you know how to answer when someone taunts you." He shook his head. "Everyday, after dinner, at the quidditch pitch. If you can't keep up, I won't do anything to help you."

He nudged me out of the way with his shoulder and stormed off.

.......................

"What are you wearing?" Draco frowned as I stepped onto the quidditch pitch.

It seemed he had been sitting there for some time,  staring up at the stars as if they could answer his questions.

"Clothes," I simply said, looking down at myself and wondering if my leggings were ripped.

He must not have seen normal clothes very often. 

The boy looked outraged. "Disgusting and informal."

"Perhaps different clothing would loosen the stick you have up your arse," I suggest as innocently as possible.

"You can't say much about that, Collins," he answered with a smirk, looking me up and down.

Impeccable posture can often make you seem stiff.

"You weren't at the Hallow'een feast," I noticed, changing the subject.

Draco threw me a broom, ignoring the question.

"Up you go," he said, looking away.

If there was one thing that boy was an expert at, it was discipline. He shouted commands left and right, only stopping when he was out of breath after having chased me twice around the field.

"Tired Malfoy?"

"At least I know Urquhart hasn't lost his mind," he mumbled.

For the next hour, I shot the ball that had, a few days ago, nearly taken my head off, through hoops of various sizes, Malfoy guarding them to the best of his abilities. Not to seem smug, but he wasn't very successful. Panting, he ran his hand through his once neatly combed hair and flew closer.

"I've seen worst,"

I raised an eyebrow. "Your face is flushed, Malfoy. Would that be embarrassment?"

"Embarrassed by a muggle? I wouldn't think so," he spat back, searching for a better response.

Finally, he lowered himself to the ground. 

As I landed beside him, I heard him mumble something. "Filthy mud..mudbl.." he set his lips into a tight line, as if he couldn't bring himself to say the word.

I watched silently as he closed his eyes and looked up at the moon, his silver hair gleaming in the moonlight.

"Goodnight Collins," he snapped, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my curiosity, which was left unsatisfied.