The Slytherin Princess | Draco Malfoy x Reader

Chapter 6: Angry Conversations

Your mouth dropped, but Draco held up his hand. "Wizards' honor, sir," he said, and Arlie shook his head.

"One week," he repeated. "Now out of the tent, Ravenclaw has next practice slot."

Your thoughts were swirling as you left the tent, Draco by your side. You had always prided yourself on being able to ignore Draco—why did you have to give into your anger this time?

"You think you'll be able to control yourself for a week?" Draco asked smugly.

You huffed. "Maybe, if you stop being such a royal prick all the time."

"How am I a prick?" he asked with a laugh. "None of this would be a problem if you didn't respond to the shit I said."

You looked at him incredulously, though neither of your paces slowed. "I'm sorry, I don't recall any times where I threw shit at you in class. Or any times when I shoved you so hard you fell over and dislocated your shoulder. Or any times when I got you in trouble and sent to detention because I couldn't wait twenty minutes to stop you outside of class to ask me a question."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Because I knew you wouldn't stop if I tried to stop you outside of class," he snarked. "You always act like you have some quest that you can't be stopped on your way to completing. It's infuriating, and it's no wonder you barely have any friends because you have to rely on the people who don't get tired of only seeing you on the weekends."

You barely heard what he'd said, though, because your mind had already stopped functioning to remind you that you had never even heard the question that Draco had said he had for you.

You stopped in the courtyard, grabbing onto Draco's wrist. He whirled around, his eyes plainly showing annoyance, but you ignored it. "What was the question?" you asked. Seeing his confusion, you continued. "On the note. You said you had a question for me after class. What was the question?"

Draco's eyes searched yours for a few seconds, before lighting up in recognition. "Oh," he said simply, heaving a giant sigh and deciding to look quite literally anywhere other than you. "I, um..."

You crossed your arms, exhaling heavily. "Today, junior, we both have classes in the morning."

"Ineedtutoringinpotions," he blurted out, and you blinked a couple of times in surprise.

"What?" you asked, and he scrubbed at his face impatiently.

"I need tutoring in potions," he said again, only slightly slower. "And since you've never messed up a potion that I've seen...I was thinking it'd be convenient to have you help me. Since we're partners, and all."

You stared at him, knowing full well your disbelief showed plainly on your face. "I—well, what's in it for me?" you asked, not caring that that was probably the rudest question you could've asked. You knew Draco was struggling in Potions—it had been evident all year—but you could barely stand the kid, you needed some sort of incentive.

"I don't know," he said, his tone annoyed. "We can figure something out. My dad will probably pay you or something—or I can pay for all the Butterbeers from now on or whatever."

You smiled despite yourself—you'd never seen the Slytherin Prince this uncomfortable. You wished it could last forever—but you were also exhausted.

"Fine, Malfoy. We'll figure something out. But this means you have to cooperate with me. You know, treat me with basic human decency and all that."

Draco opened his mouth quickly, and you waited for the inevitable insult—but it didn't come. He took a breath and nodded. "I'll try to be less of a dick," he said earnestly, running a hand through his hair again. "Can we meet tomorrow? After classes?"