𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍 - 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞

❃ chapter seven

❃

Maybelle had been avoiding Draco's gaze for two days. She spent Sunday alone in the gardens.

Today was Monday, which meant sitting beside him in potions, her first class of the day. Trudging to her chair she sat down with a blank stare.

Draco looked up from his textbook.

"Flower-"

"Save it."

"I just wanted to apologize-"

She huffed, making him fall silent. It was tempting to give in to his soft voice and apologetic tone.

"You want to know a good way to apologize? Shut the fuck up."

Despite her anger he couldn't help but smirk at her spunky attitude. He glanced down at his books with defeated eyes, knowing she was still pissed at him for speaking of her home life.

"I don't-" he whispered and stopped, trying to read her expression.

"If I told Bella what you'd said on Saturday she'd crucio you until your balls no longer functioned," she scowled, lip trembling with rage.

He couldn't help but chuckle lightly, "Yes, I'm very grateful I still have functional balls. But in all seriousness... I am sorry."

Maybelle quieted, staring to the front of the class as she ignored his pleading eyes.

Bella was always the one to protect her from her father. She was the tough, strong, loving mother figure she'd never had.

The Black sisters had taken her under their wing, Bella teaching her how to express her anger whilst Narcissa allowed her tears to spill. One taught her it was okay to feel, the other taught her how to manipulate her emotions.

Ever since Bellatrix had been sent away to Azkaban, the Malfoy residence felt quiet. Maybelle and her could no longer sit down for tea and cakes, discussing school drama whilst Draco sat reading, listening intently from the living room couch.

She'd escaped last year, but none of the children were allowed into the Malfoy residence the past summer.

Nobody knew why.

"Today, we will be learning about Veritaserum. You will not be creating it, however, as it's an incredibly dangerous potion, usually used without the other person's consent. We wouldn't want to reveal each other's secrets now, would we? Open your books to page 56," Slughorn exclaimed, standing from his desk.

Maybelle took notes silently.

She couldn't help but watch Draco's hand as he gripped his quill, stroking the parchment with black ink. Only three days ago he was using that hand for something much different.

A pit of guilt began to churn in her stomach.

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

The next two weeks passed much slower than Maybelle would've liked to admit.

Draco had gotten the hint that she didn't want to talk to him during potions, during any of their classes, let alone during their free time. They attended meals at different times, skipped activities that the rest of their friend group invited them to.

It was strange, she thought, to want him to leave her alone so badly yet yearn for his presence. It made her cheeks burn with embarrassment every time she thought about it.