Redamancy (d.m)

Chapter fifty eight-an invitation

"Wait" I said breathlessly as i felt Malfoy's smooth rings brush against the skin of my chest while his fingers fumbled with the topmost button of my school shirt

At my words, his hand fell and his grip on my hip loosened, peering at me through the darkness of the broom closet. Even with the shadowed lighting I could observe the pink tinge in his lips and the light that reflected off his hair through the thin crack of the closet door.

"Afraid you won't be able to handle it?" He questioned, his tone sharp enough to cut through the hormonal rigidity in the narrow closet as he tucked a curved pointer finger under my chin and lifted it up towards him
"Should've known you'd turn back into a prick the minute you got denied sex" I whispered tensely, glaring at him
"Aw you don't have to be scared, Lestrange, I don't bite" he stroked his thumb over the skin of my chin almost affectionately, leaning into my ear and adding, "but if you beg real nice I might consider it"
"I'd never beg for you" I spat, pushing away his cold harshly and making him cock his head in arrogance
"I believe you already have, darling" he remarked with a smirk, "but if you've forgotten, I'll gladly remind you"

When I didn't answer him, he pulled me in by the neck and reconnected our mouths and I allowed myself a scarce few seconds of indulgence before forcefully breaking away again

"No, I won't do this" I said unevenly, placing my hands on his chest and shoving him back
"Won't?" He repeated, his hand still on my neck, "or perhaps you can't"

At this, I bit down on my tongue in spite and took a step closer to him until the point of our noses gently came into contact

"Do not twist my fucking words, Malfoy" I snarled lowly, growing frustrated at his cocky demeanour, "it's not that I can't fuck you-I very well can. I just won't. do. it."
"Didn't seem that way last night"
"Go to hell"

I kicked open the closet door with my heel and stormed away, frantically running my fingers through my tangled hair, the woven work of Draco Malfoy.

Madam Pomfrey mended my ankle effortlessly, and Hermione and Ron were released from the hospital wing in a matter of days. Harry had resorted to keeping a minimum ten feet distance between myself and him, which meant that I hadn't gotten the chance to talk to him since. The second to last day of term, Umbridge made an unsuccessful attempt at a quiet departure from Hogwarts. Pupils clambered out the great hall during dinner and towards the commotion caused by Peeves darting after the stout woman, taking turns whacking her with a bag of chalk and a walking stick that possessed suspiciously similar design to Professor McGonagall's.

The inevitable final day of school rolled around, and I still had seldom luck trying to apologise to Harry. He was avoiding me almost as tenaciously as I was avoiding Malfoy. To my dismay, that was soon to grow indescribably difficult

"Where's Harry?" I asked, prepared for the same response
"In his dorm" Ron said, offering a sympathetic smile through a mouthful of pudding, "he says he's packing"

Of course he was, might as well said "he's made up some bullshit excuse to avoid you". Neither Hermione nor Ron had asked about what was going on between us, and by their sporadic curious glances towards me I guessed they weren't any closer to figuring it out. My attention was taken away from the thought of Harry to the smart eagle owl that soared in from the window and onto a bowl of fruit. My eyes widened as I saw the pine green wax seal on the envelope attached to its leg, and glanced over to the Slytherins table only to be met with a pair of chilling grey eyes already fixated on me. My fingers quickly unthreaded the thin string, loosening the envelope and making the owl fly back out the window as soon as the letter dropped onto the wooden dining table

"Oh my isn't that-" Hermione said with a small gasp as she caught sight of the letter casing
"The Malfoy crest" I finished, nodding in confusion as I took notice of Malfoy's smirk, haphazardly ripping open the thick, well made parchment and pulling out a letter written in neat, grand handwriting