Draya Malfoy

36 - Reject

"You could have confided in us, you know?"

I looked away from Pansy's hurt expression, the guilt causing a pain in my chest.

"No I couldn't," I answered dully, "you would have told me I was crazy."

"Well, yes of course we would have done. You're screwing the guy who tried to kill you. But hey, we're your mates and we love you, and if that's the kind of thing you're into, then we'll support it."

I blinked back the tears, touched by Pansy's words.

"But what about Andrei?" Daphne asked, her eyebrows knitting in confusion. "Does he know about all of this?"

"Daphne, get a clue," Blaise muttered, answering the question for me, "Potter is Andrei."

Daphne's eyes widened. "You mean Potter has to marry a Bulgarian princess?"

Scowling, I clutched the cushion I was hugging tighter, sorely tempted to throw it in Daphne's stupid face.

"No," I snapped. "I made it all up to get you lot off my back. I knew none of you would understand."

I was in a foul mood. It was Sunday evening and I hadn't seen Harry since the dramatic events of the day before. Snape had dragged him away in front of the whole school, leaving me to deal with the fallout on my own.

Questions had been fired at me along with nasty accusations - one of which was from Lavender Brown saying that I must have used a love potion for Harry to pick me over Ginny Weasley.

I had been speechless, my mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as I tried to process what had just happened.

It was Blaise who had come to my rescue, hastily grabbing my elbow to drag me away from the furious Gryffindors as they continued to shout hateful remarks at my back.

When we had reached the dungeons however, Blaise turned on me.

"Potter? POTTER?! Seriously? What the fuck were you thinking?!"

"HE MAKES ME HAPPY!"

Finally. The answer to why we ever did what we ever did. The honest answer. But it didn't seem to satisfy Blaise in the slightest.

"Happy?!" He had spluttered. "We're in the middle of a fucking war, Draya, and you're literally sleeping with the enemy!"

"Oh don't be so dramatic, Blaise," I had scoffed, folding my arms across my chest. "Harry's hardly the enemy."

"Your father is in prison for working for the man who wants him dead!"

"So? It doesn't bother Harry, so it shouldn't bother you."

"For fuck's sake, Dray, snap out of it! My god, I know you've been obsessed with Potter from day dot but I hadn't realised it had reached this kind of sick level."

He'd stormed off to his dormitory after that and I'd spent the rest of the weekend wandering around the castle, trying to find Harry but with little success.

So by the time Sunday evening had arrived, I'd given up and sloped back to the Slytherin common room, moping on the sofa by the fire.

"I bet Potter's good in bed," Millicent mused dreamily, twirling a finger in her hair as she sat on Goyle's lap in the armchair.

Everyone looked at her, their mouths falling open.

"What?" She said. "He's hot. He's clearly well built. I bet he's got some stamina."

"Try not ter imagine it too much," Goyle said as he cracked his knuckles. "Or else I'll have ter knock his nose out of joint."

"Oh relax, Greggy," Millicent said, leaning up to rub her nose against his, "I wouldn't do anything that excluded my big teddy bear."