I'm not Allowed to Love You

The Revenge (Draco's Perspective)

Upon boarding the train and placing my luggage in the luggage rack, I stood in the small corridor outside of the compartment to wait for the others. As the rest of the group came, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy, I began wishing even more that I was alone. When Blaise came into the compartment, I found myself thinking of how chiseled his face was. He was beautiful, obviously. That was plain to anyone. No need to look into it. But at the same time, I had never really thought of it before. And had he always worn such tight jeans? I coughed, silently aware of the flush in my cheeks.

    "I hate Muggle clothes," Blaise drawled and he strode up to our group in the corridor. Like I said, the house of actors.

    Blaise turned to Pansy, who was standing in the doorway of the compartment, "Are you going to sit or do I have to hex you out of the way?"

    Pansy scoffed, offended, but not really. She grabbed her luggage and sat down in a huff

    Blaise turned to me again and rolled his eyes, "Girls."

    I laughed a bit louder than I should have, and quickly stopped. I lie down next to Pansy and obey when she pats her lap questioningly.

    "Don't mess it up," I mutter when Pansy starts to play with my hair. She giggles, but continues to mess around with it.

    Blaise and I share glances every so often, which was usually broken when he would give a knowing smirk and I would look away. We talked for a while until a 5th year that I rather liked came, telling us that Blaise had been invited to lunch by the new teacher, Professor Slughorn. He thanked the 5th year and turned to me.

    "I guess I should go, then, shouldn't I?" He asked.

    I shrugged, and sat up from Pansy's lap, "I would suppose so. You didn't do anything idiotic, right?" He shakes his head, a little confused. I continue, "Then you're probably safe. It won't take too long, will it?"

    He rolled his eyes. He was very good at that, "How would I know? I just got the invitation, didn't I?"

    "Well, don't take too long," I say carefully, giving him a look. He nods, understanding. I needed to talk to him.

    The train ride went by uneventfully, but I always looked to see if the person passing the door was Potter. That's normal. I didn't really expect it, because the place the Slytherins all go to is at the very end of the train, and is rather out of the way. The first interesting thing that happened was right when Blaise came back from the lunch with Slughorn, quite a while later. He closed the door quickly, as was the way of a Slytherin, but the door kept jamming.

"What's wrong with this thing?" I sat up and instinctively looked at the bottom of the door and saw what looked like half of a shoe, before the door was forced open by what I had then assumed was the train lurching forward. The smell of treacle tart entered the compartment almost as quickly and Blaise fell into Goyle's lap. A small tussle ensued, but I was not stupid enough to not notice the trainers that whipped up into the luggage rack. But then Goyle slammed the door shut and Blaise fell into his own seat, ruffled. I lay my head back on Pansy's lap, slightly unwillingly, and Crabbe went back to his comic.

"So, Zabini," I begin, trying to stop the glaring between Goyle and Blaise, "What did Slughorn want?"

"Just trying to make up to well-connected people," Blaise said in a bored voice, "Not that he managed to find many."

A silence formed that I became uncomfortable with almost instantly. I decided to keep questioning him, to fill the silence, "Who else did he invite?"

"McLaggen from Gryffindor-"

"Oh yeah, his uncle's big at the Ministry," I added, remembering Father talking about him."