Salazar's Angel

XXVIII

"Malfoy. You're back early." Is the first thing to slip from Dahlia's mouth, before she can stop it. Good grief, could she sound anymore like a 50's housewife caught in the middle of an extramarital affair?

"By all means, don't let me interrupt," He spits out in the most venomous tone she's ever heard him use. With that, he spins on his heel and walks out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Nott sighs as Dahlia extricates herself from his arms. "I think I must be more drunk than I realized."

"Brilliant observation...me too." Dahlia scrubs over her face with her hands. "This was a mistake, Theodore."

He nods. "You're right, Dahlia."

"I need to go track him down and talk to him...about a lot of things, now," Dahlia says. "Where do you think he would go?"

"I would try the astronomy tower. You don't look too steady on your feet...do you want me to walk you?" Nott asks as Dahlia sways a little where she stands. She could count on one hand the number of times she had consumed alcohol before this.

She snorts. "Yeah, I don't think that's a good idea. I'll see you later Nott."

With that, Dahlia heads out the door. The heels on her boots in combination with being lightly intoxicated aren't making things easy for her as she wonders the castle aimlessly. Thankfully the halls are mostly empty at this hour, most students eating dinner or having already left for the weekend.

Finally, after what feels like hours, she stumbles upon a door that leads her to a dizzyingly tall spiral staircase. Bingo. Before starting her ascent, she takes off her boots and drops them on the first step, leaving her feet only covered in her thin black tights.

The staircase takes even longer to climb than she initially anticipated. It has to be enchanted...Dahlia's train of thought is interrupted when she finally emerges onto a wide circular platform. 

After scanning around in the fading light she sees him across the platform, leaning on the railing heavily with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

"Malfoy," Dahlia says, approaching him. Without her heels to announce her presence she felt she ought to give him a warning.

He turns around to face her, and her breath is slammed from her chest. He has dark circles rimming his eyes, his cheeks look gaunt, and he is even paler than usual. His shoulders appear to have the weight of the world on them, his whole body sagging with the effort of simply standing there.

"What do you want?" He asks.

"Well, for starters, a fucking explanation would be just dandy." Dahlia cocks an eyebrow and continues to approach him.

His jaw drops open. Oh, so he was expecting her to apologize for almost kissing Nott. This should be interesting.

"What do I have to explain to you? I just walked in on you practically jumping one of my closest mate's and you want me to explain?" He musters up as much rage as he can given his current state, which is admittedly still an impressive amount.

"Malfoy. We aren't in a relationship. If I want to kiss all of your closest friends, I can and I will. Now, tell me what the fuck is going on. Where have you been this past week? What happened on Saturday night?" Dahlia stops when they are standing almost a foot apart and crosses her arms over his chest.

"Since we aren't in a relationship, I don't suppose my whereabouts are any of your business." He meets her own glare with one of his own. Despite herself, she enjoys the icy feeling that slips over her at their eye contact. "Also, bold of you to assume any of the rest of my mates would stoop so low."

Dahlia sucks in a breath at his harsh words, but does not let them rattle her. The alcohol might help with this, just a little. "You didn't seem to think I was so low when you had me practically naked in your own bed just last weekend! Also, that is when you made it my business. When you left me waiting there, and you came back the next morning and you were so cold to me with no explanation what so ever!"

He bares his teeth at her words, but can't seem to come up with anything to say.

"I did NOT climb all the way up that death trap of stairs for you to ignore me. Explain yourself Malfoy," She practically growls.

In one swift move he reaches out and grabs her by the neck. The next thing she knows, he has pinned her up against the stone wall next to him, his hand around her neck and his body pressed to hers.

"I don't-...are you drunk?" He asks, momentarily caught of guard. He sniffs, his nose pointed towards her slightly parted lips.

Dahlia focuses her eyes in on his, trying to ignore the relief of cool she feels. "Are you high?" She asks, noticing his pupils blown wide like the night she found him in the library.

"You didn't answer my question."

"And you didn't answer mine."

With a grunt of anger, he seals his mouth over hers. Seconds later, when he pushes her harder into the wall with his body and squeezes her neck lightly she moans heavily and entirely against her will.

"Someone's eager," Draco mumbles, pulling back from her briefly.

"Fuck you Malfoy!" Dahlia shoves his chest with her hand, causing him to take a step back. She shoves him again, walking towards him. "Maybe," Shove. "If you hadn't," Shove. "LEFT ME READY AND WAITING IN YOUR BED," Shove. "I WOULDN'T BE SO FUCKING EAGER," Shove. 

By the end, she is practically roaring and has pushed him all the way to the opposite wall. There is amusement dancing behind his blown pupils. 

"Tell me where you went Malfoy, I'm not fucking around," Dahlia growls. 

"You have a much more dirty mouth when you're drunk," Draco observes absentmindedly. "I wonder what else you could say to me like this..."

Dahlia has to stifle a scream of frustration. His words light a fire in her belly, but it doesn't burn nearly as hot as the anger she still has.

"If you don't tell me what the fuck went down Saturday night after your father walked in on us, I can assure you that you'll never find out." She cocks an eyebrow.

Apparently she is speaking his language now, because he sighs in frustration. Then he grabs her by the wrist and slides his back down the wall until he is sitting. He tugs her down too, so that she is seated on his lap, straddling his waist.

"I'm not fucking around, Malfoy. Explain yourself," Dahlia says, ignoring the feel of him hardening against her core.

"I'm going to explain Dahlia." He grabs her waist and pushes her more firmly against him. They both have to stifle a moan. "Why not make it a little more pleasant?"