"Draco," The boy was startled awake in his common room by a hand on his shoulder – a soft touch withdrawn as quickly as it appeared. Draco looked up to see Pansy peering at him, "Here's a wakeful potion."
He took the potion from her and drank deeply before gesturing for her to sit.
"You've not been yourself," She asked candidly, taking the seat next to his. The blond boy held his tongue and simply swirled the potion around while looking into the fire.
"Is it... hard? The task that the Dark Lord has set for you?" Pansy asked, meeting the burning glare of the fireplace with the same stubborn set of the mouth.
He nodded slowly at that, "It is." The words came curtly.
"You know, I could help."
A corner of Draco's mouth turned up in a dubious smirk, but he nodded. "I know you would, Pansy. But this is nothing you can help me with." He said darkly before finishing the potion and getting up.
"You can always count on me," A whine was beginning to enter her voice.
"I have no doubt of that." He assured, setting down the empty vial. "Thanks."
She frowned at his sudden decorum. When had they become so unfamiliar with one another? Draco doesn't thank people. He expects to be treated a certain way and takes things for granted, which was one of his many qualities that Pansy found charming. She watched as he made his way towards the dungeon doors, trying to pinpoint what was different about him that made him more intriguing than he already was.
Draco had always been aloof, but he wasn't one to shut himself away – he enjoyed being the centre of attention. There was nothing he liked more than drawing the eye of the crowd. However, he seemed to have retreated inwardly leaving a quieter version of himself. He isn't necessarily colder... But it made him older, somehow.
It was as though he had left behind boyish desires, including her, and Pansy couldn't help feeling as though something precious had been stolen. For a fleeting moment, she was resentful at the Dark Lord for forcing Draco to grow up so quickly, but that resentment quickly turned to pride. The Dark Lord favours Draco, and that's all that mattered... For there was nobody more suited for Draco than she.
"Report." Selgentar said while marking parchments.
"They've begun to suspect me," Draco said stoically.
The professor raised an eyebrow and drew up to look at the student in front of her. Dressed impeccably with his back as straight as a board – a sign of someone both well-off and well-bred.
"How so?"
"I press them for information far too frequently, without giving any in return. It's natural to be curious," He said with narrowed eyes.
"Naturally, naturally," She mumbled, "Make something up, can't you? Aren't you a cunning Slytherin?"
"Hermione is extremely bright, and she wouldn't not fall for any tricks–" The moment her name left his lips, he knew he had made a mistake.
"Are you suggesting that this mudblood is smarter than a servant of the Dark Lord?" She asked coldly.
"No, I'm merely saying that we should proceed cautiously..." He grasped at straws, "We don't want this opportunity to turn into a disadvantage."
Selgentar nodded, "If I didn't know any better, it sounds as though you hold the mudblood in high regard."
"Never." Draco said through gritted teeth.
"Regardless, it seems to me like your plans are falling apart. Did you not lose the cursed necklace you ensured would complete the task for you?"
"I... did. But I have a better idea. A fool-proof one, at that."
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The Lost Timeline | Dramione | ✔
Fanfiction"Do not make the mistake of thinking I care what you think of me." She looked down and saw her book in his other hand. The unexpected kindness in the midst of poison was more than she could bear and she took it from him quickly before breaking into...
