little miss perfect

unravelled truths

Jaycee's POV

"Hilliker!"

His familiar voice struck my ears, and I suddenly felt uncharacteristically nervous, quickening my pace along the corridor I was walking down. I hadn't spoken to Draco Malfoy for three days; since our conversation in his dorm, on Halloween, where many truths had been exposed. I wasn't even sure if he even remembered the encounter or not, considering how drunk he had been, hence why I was so anxious to speak to him.

"Hilliker!"

Again, his voice penetrated my ears, a lot closer to me this time. I could hear his jogging footsteps behind me, indicating he was making a solid effort to catch up with me.

"I know you can hear me. Just hold on a second—Hilliker!"

Eventually, I stopped in my tracks, slowly turning on my heel to face the direction of his voice. I reluctantly quirked an eyebrow as he stopped directly in front of me and readjusted his dishevelled Slytherin tie.

"Can I help you, Draco?" I asked, feigning diffidence.

The blonde furrowed his eyebrows at my, scrutinising me in an intrigued, yet peeved fashion. "I've already told you not to call me Draco."

A light smirk penetrated my lips. "And when have I ever listened to anything you've told me to do?"

He blinked a few times, his lips bunching to the side as he attempted to hide his amusement. "You raise a fair point. I still don't like it, though."

I raised my eyebrows. "I really don't see the big deal in it. It is your name after all. Although, I suppose I could call you something else..." I suggested slyly."Drakey, perhaps. Drakey-kins?"

Draco scowled at me, shaking his head in horror. "I'm warning you, if you ever call me either of those horrific nicknames, I will murder you myself."

I snorted a laugh at his disgust. "Alright—alright—we'll reserve them for Pug-faces use only. How about Slytherin Prince? Or Ferret-bitch?"

Malfoy failed to cover his amusement now, his lips twitching upwards as he struggled maintain his scowl. "Ferret bitch?" he repeated incredously.

I smirked. "It's fitting, don't you reckon?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes, shaking his head."Hilarious, really..." he replied dryly. "Believe it or
not, I didn't come here to listen to your banter, Hilliker."

"No?" I asked in mock surprise.

He shook his. "I came here to—to..." Malfoy trailed off, clenching his jaw into an expression that almost mirrored torment.

I eyed him peculiarly. "To confess your undying love for me?" Cute, Malfoy."

"No." Malfoy scoffed. "I came here to thank you."

My jaw fell slightly and my sarcastic demeanour vanished. "For...?"

"You know what for." Malfoy insisted agitatedly, pulling a crumpled piece of parchment out of his pocket and tossing it at me.

I was unsurprised to find that it was the essay I had written for him, except now, it had been graded, with an 'A+' written in ink distinctively onto it.

"I know you wrote it for me. I recognise your handwriting."

I slowly looked up from the parchment into Malfoy's grey eyes, agitated brewing in them as usual, but with a hint of something I'd never really seen on his before. Gratefulness.

"You're welcome..." I replied, blinking repeatedly and unable to tear my gaze from his.

"Why?" he questioned curiously, refusing to break the eye contact.