The Blood of a Malfoy (Abraxas Malfoy)

7|All is Fair in War

"Well today in classes—could you sit next to me?" She asked, biting her lip in a questioning fashion.

The remembrance of her purple dress, her expression as she had looked at him the first day she appeared in class. It was as though she knew him more than he did. "I would love to."

"Hey Abraxas—can we join you? We are trying to avoid the rath of Mr. I'm the greatest wizard of all time." Mulciber approached, taking a seat next to him.

His eyes shifted to the Slytherin table where Tom sat, glaring at the group. Abraxas noticed his gaze was entranced on Hermione. Then his cold stare met his own grey eyes. He felt somehow Riddle could hear his own thoughts. That he could sense what Abraxas had been thinking about Hermione Granger.

Rosier had then joined the lot, her lips pulled in a grin at the reaction of a dozen Slytherins joining the Gryffindor table.

Every single pair of magical eyes was laid on them. The entire hall had fallen silent.

"Okay. I'm going to go to class now." Hermione informed Abraxas before getting up.

Still silent, the entire room watched her leave, her footsteps remaining the only sound against the stone floor.  They watched as Tom too, quickly got up from his seat making his way towards the exit.

Instantly the Great Hall erupted into conversation.

"Granger's cute no?" Mulciber said in a hushed tone beside him, drawing his gaze from her.

"No." He replied, shaking his head. "I mean maybe. Yes. But she's not my type." Abraxas confirmed, knowing quite well he was simply doing her a favor.

"Yes, because she's Riddle's type." Mulciber chuckled.

"Not that it is your concern, but I fancy someone else."

Druella leaned across the table with an eyebrow raised. "Who is it, other than myself of course?" 

"Sod off, Rosier." Abraxas spoke, not caring the inconsiderate demeanor of his response. 

"Mate, you can tell us. Otherwise we'll assume you are making excuses for your rather fond opinion of Granger." Mulciber teased.

Abraxas turned his head to look at the Slytherin's steel eyes. "You know, with your intrigue over the subject of Hermione Granger, I'm beginning to think it is you who fancies her."

With that comment, he stood up, and returned to the Slytherin table where no further interrogation would occur over his breakfast. 

However Druella unfortunately followed.  She sat down beside him, her arm wrapping around his shoulder.  "I know who it is you fancy". She whispered right by his ear. 

He shoved her off, taking a disgruntled bite of the remaining green fruit.  "To what end will you ever let me be?" 

"Don't you want to know how I know?" She cackled, rather amused with herself. 

"No." He shook his head, trying not to be roped into her childish torments. 

"Oh Malfoy." She pouted.  "For one, she is looking over here, this very minute." 

Abraxas refrained from letting his gaze fall toward Augusta. He would not give Rosier the satisfaction "sure she is."  He scoffed, though his curiosity was growing.

"Though if I were you, I'd forget all about her. But I dare say she appears rather smitten with someone else."

He this time glanced over his shoulder to look at Augusta. She was looking in their direction. He met her eyes for a brief moment before she tore them away. The look he had received made his stomach turn. It was a cold, unforgiving stare.