Something Golden

53.

July 25 1997

Weasley has been staring me down ever since I arrived. He's just sat there in the corner with his arms crossed as he plays out several different ways he's going to kill me in his head.

"Is there something you'd like to say, Weaslebee?"

He instantly jumps up to his feet, his lip curling as he says "I want you to stay away from Hermione."

"Are you her father?" I ask.

"No."

"Her mother?"

"Obviously not."

"Then you have no authority to declare such things." I tell him, returning my attention to today's copy of the Daily Prophet.

"You don't deserve her Malfoy."

Raising a brow, I look back up at him. "And you do?" I quip. I neatly fold the paper, place it beside me on the couch and stand. He's not as short as Potter but I still have to lower my head to meet his glare. "In what world do you think Granger would ever disrespect herself enough to see you as anything other than an unfortunate mistake? The only reason you're in her life is because you and Potter were a package deal."

His entire face is now the same shade as his hair but he doesn't respond.

"You aren't someone who possesses much intellect but even in that empty head of yours you know that if it came down to her choosing between either you or Potter she'd go with the latter. You would never be able to make her happy Weasley. In fact, the best thing you could do for her is cease to exist. You're more of a liability than anything."

Weasley greatly resembles a large child when he's angry, I'm waiting for him to start babbling like one too but he doesn't. For once he actually backs his rage with physical action, swinging his fist towards my face.

Snatching his wrist, I twist it back and grasp his throat with my free hand. "Seems I've hit a rather sensitive spot." I smirk. "Listen to me very closely Weasley, even if one of your many scenarios where you kill me were to somehow come true you would still have no chance with her. If I see you so much as look at Granger in any way other than platonic I will rip your throat out."

"Go to hell Malfoy!" He manages to secrete just enough saliva to spit in my face. Why the fuck do these pinheads keep turning to their bodily fluids as a fighting strategy?

Lifting him up by his neck, I slam his body down onto the ground. I remove the knife from my thigh holster and press the tip against the middle of his abdomen.

"You wouldn't kill me." He says far too confidently.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" I scoff, irritated by the false accusation. "I would most certainly kill you and I wouldn't lose a second of sleep over it."

"Hermione would never forgive you."

"I'd argue that she'd thank me.. eventually. She'd come to terms with the fact that it was for the best."

My hand presses forward, the blade just breaking the surface of his skin, when I feel a pair of hands yanking at my arms.

"What the hell do you think you're doing Malfoy?" Potter scolds.

"Making the world a better place."

Weasley let's out a high pitched wail as I break through another layer of skin while Potter continues his pitiful attempt of pulling me off. His efforts are equivalent to someone punching a brick wall and expecting to make a dent.

"What is going on in here?" Granger shouts. "Draco." She gasps. "What are you doing?"

"Hello love." I say, smiling up at her. "Give me a moment would you? I'm preparing an early birthday present for you."