Everlasting 2 (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

The Wrath of Draco

You could not help but stare at the blazing fireplace before yourself. Safety. There was safety and comfort. In a world of uncertainty and terror, you felt safe. With a blanket cuddled around your shoulders, biscuits and tea before yourself, with three other teacups on the table, two still hot and filled. Blaise beside you, watching you slowly, sitting calmly and nervously, but relaxed enough to keep you at ease. 

The silence could not go on. He thought quickly, and came up with a splendid idea. He remembered all the things Draco Malfoy had told him about, all the ideas, discussions, all the knowledge. And so, he used it. 

"This Dorian Gray guy ... not great, right?"

Your eyes remained on the fire, but the sound of Blaise's voice and the words which he spoke made you smile faintly. You understood that he was trying to distract you. Slowly, you looked over at him with your glassy but soft eyes. Eyes that looked as though they had witnessed every human experience ever. 

"Not great at all ... but we're all quite like him." 

"Cynical," he added with a soft laugh. "That ... Achilles guy ... he was or wasn't gay?" 

At this, you could not help but laugh. He spoke warily, as though he didn't know whether he was pronouncing any of the names right. Or whether he was even saying the right name at all. You knew that he had gotten this knowledge from Draco, for you'd told Draco about these things before and he simply must have passed on the knowledge.

"I mean ... Homer never said it explicitly, I suppose," you said with a smile, looking into the fire again as it reflected itself in your eyes, the burning flame within your eyes of enthusiasm. "But let's be real here - you wouldn't exactly ask to be buried beside a friend, now, would you?" 

"I suppose not." He laughed.

"Plato quite literally refers to them as essentially perfect lovers in his Symposium." 

But Blaise did not know enough - Draco had not told him enough - for him to engage. Soon, the conversation died away again. The only thing that kept Blaise content was the fact that now, as you stared into the fire, clinging to the blanket around yourself, at least you had a small smile on your face. You even gathered the courage to reach out and take a biscuit before eating it. 

And, soon enough, the doors to the Gryffindor Common Room opened. Blaise turned around, but you didn't. It was only when Draco took a seat beside you, and Ginny took a seat opposite Blaise, that silence encompassed the room. In a situation like this, you'd expect the person in your situation to be the most shaken up. But no - Ginny and Draco proved more agitated, shaky, and nervous. 

"Tea for you guys," Blaise said softly.

"Yeah." Draco said coldly. "Thanks."

Silence filled the room again. There was a peculiar feeling arising from Draco; a kind of anger and venom which you'd never felt resonate from him before. 

He was not the boy who you once remembered - not the boy who sat and cried and said he couldn't do it. Not the boy who said he was afraid. This Draco - the one filled with fury - was terrifying. You did not have to look at him to feel his icy eyes and the natural glares. It was ... oh, yes ... it was fucking horrifying. 

"Drink the tea," Blaise said. 

Ginny was the first to reach her hand out to the tea on the table, the untouched one. You could see, in your peripheral vision, as her hand shook. She stared at one place as she lifted it to her lips, gently sipping, before sitting back in the armchair and placing her other hand on the mug, as though the warmth of it was capable of calming her down.