Something Golden

5.

The Dinner

There's a total of 6 of us in attendance tonight. Granger was the first to arrive but are we really surprised?

She was already deep in conversation with Frances Knox by the time I decided to grace everyone with my presence.

A bit irritating that I wasn't even offered a quick side eye from her when I arrived. I spent extra time to make sure I looked as cocksure as possible.

Full suit, tie pin, I even threw in a pocket square
to top it off for fucks sake.

Dinner is served promptly at 7:30, discussions of everyone's family and their well-being is held during the appetizer, pumpkin soup.

"How is your father getting on these days Frances?" Professor McGonagall asks.

"Well, thank you for asking. He's set for a promotion at the ministry before summer."

What an exasperating braggart.

Bored with the conversation I watch as Granger stares down at the 3 spoons laid to the right of her bowl.

Hopeless.

Her eyes scan around the table as she tries to identify the correct one to be using. Once her sight lands on me I have the spoon held in front of my mouth, my pinky lifted obnoxiously high.

There she goes rolling her eyes at me again. Her internal fight over the proper utensil to use is interrupted when McGonagall turns to her, asking what it is her parents do.

"My parents are dentists."

"And what does that entail?"

"They work on people's teeth."

She babbles on about some story of a child biting her father and how he needed stitches afterwards while the main entree is served.

The other students take turns blowing smoke up their own ass. And I'm the pompous one?

After we finish desert the real reason we were invited here tonight is finally brought up.

"As many of you know," McGonagall begins. "Each year we select the two students with highest marks from fifth, sixth and seventh year. You will each work collaboratively with the student in your year to compose a research paper. The pair who produces the highest quality will be given the opportunity to work alongside Dumbledore to further research their topic and will be published."

While the others gasp and show excitement I groan as I lean back in my chair.

Great. More homework.

A bowl floats over in front of McGonagall. She informs us that the topics will be chosen for each pair at random.

"Knox and Henders, ancient runes. Alys and Crowley, arithmancy. Granger and Malfoy." She's practically falling out of her chair as she leans towards McGonagall, waiting impatiently for the topic to be called out. "Occlumency."

My eyes dart up from the table, Professor Snape watching me intently, studying my reaction to the subject.

Dinner is dismissed and the second we exit the room I'm immediately hunt down by Granger. She's managed to already develop a tedious schedule for us.

"We'll meet tomorrow at 7 pm." She instructs.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I have quidditch practice."

"Fine. 9 pm. The library. Do you know where that is?" She clips.

"Yes Granger, I'm not a daft git. Do you want me to show you that I'm capable of tying my own shoes as well?"

She lets out aggravated huff. "9 pm Malfoy, not a minute late!" Shouting as she stomps off.

The Next Evening

"You know you're allowed to change out of your uniform when classes are over, right?" I say as I slump down into the chair across from her.

"You're late." "By 5 minutes." "Still late." "You need to learn to chill the fuck out Granger, don't you muggles have some sort of drug for that?" "And you need to learn to be respectful of other's time. From now on be here right at 9."

"I'll consider it." Kicking my feet up onto the table I watch as Granger readjusts the messy slop she calls hair. "I've already pulled all of the books that mention occlumency-" "I'm sure you have." I mumble, earning a death glare.

She proceeds to list all of her findings, nearly everything incorrect due to her interpretation but correcting her every five seconds seems exhausting so I allow her to continue on.

Sometime during her history lesson on the first known man to perform occlumency I fully checked out of the conversation and checked in on the blonde Slytherin at the table opposite of us who has been eyeing me since I've arrived.

"Are you even paying attention?"

"No." I admit.

Her eyes follow mine over to the other table. "You would be attracted to her, seems to be your type." She scoffs.

Intrigued by the bitterness lacing her words I turn my attention to her. "And what is my type Granger?"

"Slutty."

"Not very feminist of you." I pick the book up from the table and lean back into my chair, flipping through the pages. "Despite your confidence in knowing what gets my dick hard, she's not my type at all."

"What is then?" She asks, though it's clear she doesn't actually care to know.

You are.

"Ones with an IQ greater than that of an ogre. A nice arse wouldn't hurt either."

"And what makes you think any girl with half a brain would show any interest in you?" She challenges.

"No one is immune to being seduced Granger, no matter the amount of intellect they may possess."

I look down at the invisible watch on my wrist and get up from my chair. "As fun as this was, some of us actually have a life."

"You can't leave. We haven't even made a dent on our assignment."

"I'm sure you'll muster something up, I'll provide my revisions tomorrow. 9:30 right?"

"9." Her voice harsh and commanding.

"Maybe." I smirk.