Elara Malfoy

03

"I think that's quite enough Miss Malfoy. You're more than welcome to take Mr. Potter's place for detention tomorrow."

I stared at her in shock. Apparently she had completely missed my point however I wasn't going to let Harry suffer another one of these barbaric detentions.

"Fine. But I will be informing the headmaster about this."

As I turned to leave Umbridge said one last thing that made my blood run cold.

"Miss Malfoy, I will also be informing your father about your behavior here. I'm sure he would be interested to know how you are upholding the Malfoy name."

———————————————————————————————

The common room that night was freezing despite having the fire raging in front of me. I couldn't find it in me however to go grab a blanket or sweater. The book in my hands held too much of my attention. The book itself was thick and bound in a deep red leather, stories of adventure and romance and found family filled the pages. Reading had always been an escape for me, used for those late nights spent alone in the manor while hiding from my family. I was so immersed in a tale of forbidden lovers that I failed to notice George's appearance at the bottom of the boys stairs.

It wasn't until he reached out and placed his hand on my shoulder while standing behind the couch that I realized he was there. My heart stopped and my cheek stung as my hair whipped around and hit my cheek. His face was concerned and his grip tightened slightly on my shoulder at the intense reaction.

"You okay?", he asked.

I reached up, squeezed his hand, and let out a big sigh.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm fine. You just startled me."

George made his way around the couch to settle down next to me. His tall frame was covered in a pair of red and brown pajama pants and a thick yellow jumper - the knit material hung loose even over his broad shoulders. As he sat I could feel the heat of his body radiating next to me where his thigh pressed against mine. His arm came to rest behind my shoulders on the back of the couch and his long fingers brushed the tops of my shoulders.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened with the toad?"

I kept my gaze on the crackling fire, "Nothing happened. I have detention with her tomorrow is all."

"What?", his voice was tight when he spoke.

"She gave me detention in Harry's place. I go tomorrow night after dinner."

"No. Absolutely not.", George leapt from his seat and began pacing in front of me, "You're not going Elara. I'll go to McGonagall or Dumbledore or-or-or call Bill! Him and Charlie would know what to do!"

"George!"

"What!", he stopped pacing and turned to face me again, his eyes a little wild.

"We aren't going to anyone."

His brows pinched together and I could see that he was about to start arguing with me again.

"George, stop.", I got up and took his hands in mine, "I promise that I will be okay. I can handle whatever Umbridge has planned for me, believe me I've dealt with worse."

George's face softened at my words and he reached his right hand up to brush the pale strands of hair away from my face. His thumb was featherlight as he brushed it across the faint scar that sat at my hairline on my temple. My heart set off like a hummingbird at the feeling of his warm fingers on my face. I have always been very giving with my affection towards my friends - Angie says it's because of the love and affection I lack at home - but never quite like this. It had never been gentle touches, faces so close I could feel his breath on my cheeks, and eyes flicking quickly towards lips and back again.

Somewhere in the distance an owl screeched and it was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on our heads. I inhaled sharply and ducked my head, stepping away slightly so it felt like I could breathe once more. My hands still rested in his and I watched as his face turned into an expression of concern again.

"Are you cold, sweets?", before I could respond he was already shrugging out of his jumper.

My eyes flitted to the sliver of skin that revealed itself with his motions. I couldn't stop myself from drinking in the sight of his toned stomach before it was covered once more by the white t-shirt he wore underneath.

"Here, take this."

"Thanks.", I whispered.

The bright yellow sweater was thick and still warm from his body. It smelled like him; treacle tart, gunpowder, bergamot, and something clean and all of it was purely George.

"I won't try to stop you from going tomorrow, I know you're much too stubborn for me to win. Just promise me you won't try to suffer alone?"

"I promise."

He left me there that night, surrounded my his scent and with a smile on my face, feeling nothing but love and peace in my heart.