𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 - 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲

20-Our Only Wish is Melodrama

The sob was loathsome and groaning; it profoundly penetrated my ear, infinitely so that I could feel it on the exterior of my cerebellum. I felt a mixture of pity and annoyance; pity for whomever was crying, regardless of knowing the circumstances, annoyance from (as I just now mentioned) the deep blistering throb it let on the dextral side of my forehead and upper cheek. Oh how it wept and cried and groaned, so cheaply. I could not even counterfeit such sounds in my most unfavorable night torments; a world in which much is attainable with limited or no control, or so I deemed

The cries soared like pelicans around my head, so wild, it felt something of sorcery. Initially, I could not see who was crying. They seemed (all to my interpretation) to have been inside one of those doors (but that would be highly unlikely, as I would have seen the human legs swinging along left and dextral in dispirited movements) Although I now see a faint manifestation of zephyr now standing in front of me. They resembled the figure and facials of a human, one distressed and troubled. The girl was short and small figured; her hair had been parted and wrapped into two parts, tied into ponytails. She had worn a skirt that ended at her knees, black tights that fit snugly on her legs, and a black cardigan with blue strips over her white blouse. I glanced up at the girl's face, transparent and phantom-like. I felt like I was dreaming, none of this was real. She held the transparency of steam and the melancholy of a harmony. As I, more comparable to a plain dartboard

---

"How are you finding this class to be?" She asked kindly, which he found to be slightly surprising considering his first thought would not be a friendly talk with her, rather a scold or ludicrous lecture.

"Fine" He muttered under his breath. This would appear to be a trait of reticence or introversion if one was not familiar with the last name 'Malfoy' but in fact, it wasn't. It was rather a sign of the impervious manners he learned from his father. His fingers had fidgeted and tangled together, much like his messy and unkempt hair as he did not have time to gel it like he normally does

"Do you know why I called you into my class?"

"I'd assume it were for my lack of attention. Although I find it notably unnecessary you would have to waste both of our time on such a small matter" He spat words as if they were expired milk in his mouth.

"Why, What is it that needs such attention from your time?" She exclaimed in melodramatic motions, filling the cup of ridicule to the brim till it was seeping along its sides

He stayed silent for a moment. Not because she'd been a thief of his words, but he of his. What was he to tell her, that his time was engulfed by serving the dark lord, whilst a wand ready to kill was held along the guilted bulge on his neck, among other intimate, secluded things to add on? He had bit his tongue and stuffed the words into his lungs, drowning and suffocating him. Although, with the time he'd spent deep in the black lake, the feeling of asphyxiating was thought to be an amicable sheath.

"I think you have the wrong idea, Mr. Malfoy. No, it wasn't your heedlessness and inattention that prompted me to call you" She shook her head and smiled playfully as she looked down at her entangled fingers. One (her pointer finger) was decorated with a singular pale steel ring, along with what looked like an iridescent light blue gem. The ring, in a way, ought to have perfectly expressed a mirror-reflection of his eyes

"What was it then, if not what I thought it was?"

The peculiarly delightful teacher opened her mouth, about to scold, criticize, or maybe even reward Draco for what he had done (something he is yet so sure of) but was interrupted when the door unsolicitedly was forced to open, Professor Snape swaggering his pelvis left and right as he walked towards them, giving the teacher a noticeably forced smile.