Bloodlines || A Draco Malfoy Romance Fanfiction

The Library - 96

Draco

By Monday morning, Aphry had grown tired of completely giving me the silent treatment. She and Daphne joined the rest of us for breakfast, but strategically sat a bit away from me to avoid conversation. She made it clear that she was still mad at me. And that I had my work cut out for me.

I ate my breakfast in contemplative silence, trying to figure out what to do about Aphry. Which was made difficult with Pansy and her friends sitting right next to me and whispering energetically amongst each other. I found it odd. They never whispered. In fact, they were always quite loud. Unless, of course, they were up to something. But with my mind on other things, I had no intention of making it my business.

That was until I saw around a half dozen owls fly one by one in front of the golden trio at the Gryffindor table.

And Pansy and her gang were suspiciously quiet, watching the odd occurrence. Then Pansy saw that I had noticed, and gave a conspiratory smile.

And I would normally find whatever they were up to funny. But all I could think about now was Aphry catching wind of it, blaming me once again, and making her even angrier than she already was.

Hermione Granger stood quickly, running from the great hall. We were close enough to notice her hands had swelled considerably with sores. Pansy and the other girls sniggered delightedly.

If Aphry caught wind of this, I was doomed.

I looked over at her. She'd seen Granger had run off and seemed a bit concerned. But thankfully she was not close enough to notice the snickering gaggle of girls just past me down the Slytherin table.

Hopefully, things would stay that way...

That hope was crushed before even lunchtime hit.

Aphry and Daphne walked down the stone steps towards our Care of Magical Creatures class, ahead of me, Crabbe, and Goyle. Pansy and her devout posse were behind us all. 

Potter and Weasley were just coming from Herbology in the greenhouses. Aphry diverted her path, rushed over to the two Gryffindors, and began talking to them, no doubt asking where the mudblood was. Had she been in the infirmary the entire first class period? Certainly, that wasn't good...

I watched as Aphry placed her hand over her mouth delicately, covering a gasp.

It was at that moment that Pansy decided to chime in. "Potter, have you split up with your girlfriend? Why was she so upset at breakfast."

While Potter and Weasley ignored the comment, Aphry glared at Pansy. At that moment I knew I was a dead man.

I could practically see my headstone: Here lies Draco Malfoy. Mauled by a hippogriff. Done in by a scorned 14-year-old girl.

But as the lesson went on, Aphry didn't say a word about it to me. I couldn't tell if that was a good or bad sign.

The week passed, and Granger received hate mail daily, and at this point, Aphry was well aware of it. Every morning we sat near the golden trio, every morning Pansy and her gang would snigger, and every morning Aphry would glare at them until breakfast was over.

I tried to hide that it was eating me alive she hadn't said anything to me. I thought of the stunt she'd pulled last year at Easter break. She could be a revenged serve cold kind of girl if she wanted to be.

Finally, at lunch on Friday, Aphry asked me to come to the library with her to help with a research project she had to do.

Maybe I wasn't fooled, but our less intelligent housemates were none the wiser.

Following Aphry to the library, I watched the back of her auburn cover head, the top layer of curls pulled back with a complementary green ribbon. She dropped the books off that she had finished and made a beeline to the fiction section.

I leaned against the shelves with my arms crossed and waited in silence as she browsed.

"So," I said, finally breaking the silence. "Why exactly did you need my escort to the library?"

Still browsing the novels, she sighed before she said hesitantly. "I need to ask a favour of you."

My brow furrowed at her apprehension. This is likely something I do not want to help her with. "What is it?"

She grabbed a book, holding it close. Her eyes shifted nervously as if she was unsure of what she was about to ask. "Can you get Pansy to stop sending hate mail to Hermione? I'm not sure it's even completely her now, but with the giggling and carrying on her and the other girls are doing I'm sure they are at least partly responsible."

"I had nothing to do with the letters Aphry," I said defensively.

"I know," she said, then turn back to the novels. What did she say? "I thought if you had a word with her, you might encourage her to stop."

I bent down, closing the space between the two of us. "What do you mean you know I didn't have anything to do with the letters." With her eyes still on the shelves, she froze, and her eyes widened slightly as they did in the three broomsticks last weekend. "How did you know I had something to do with the article in Witch Weekly, but not the letters?"

She was silent for a moment before saying. "I just do."

I straightened and raised a sceptical eyebrow. "You just do?"

Nodding, she shrugged dismissively. "The letters don't seem the type of thing you'd do." 

She bent gracefully at the knee to look at the lower shelves. The hem of her tartan school skirt lifted ever so slightly above her knee as the rest of it flowed down to graze the floor.  I forgot what we were talking about as a smirk made its way onto my face, thinking how lovely she looked.

"So will you talk to her?" She said, choosing another book.

"Who?" I asked without thinking, still distracted.

She looked at me sharply, snapping me out of my trance, and then stood up just as fluidly as she previously got down. "Pansy? Are you going to tell her and her cronies to stop writing those awful letters or not?"

Oh, yes. That. I crossed my arms. "I'm honestly not really sure why I'd do that, seeing as I don't care if Hermione Granger gets hate mail or not."

She nodded, "But I do. I don't like seeing others being taunted or sent to the hospital wing due to bobotuber pus sent via post."

The thought of helping anyone Potter adjacent caused me the scowl. 

Placing a hand on one of my cross forearms, she asked, "Do it for me, Draco?"

My mind immediately went to Daphne telling me I had to make things up to her, even if it meant swallowing my pride. And Aphry was practically throwing the opportunity into my proverbial lap.

And then there were her eyes. Two large, russet-coloured orbs silently pleaded as she clung to her books desperately. I knew at that moment I'd do anything for her if she looked at me like that, and I was ruined if she ever found out.

So it was the odd combination of red-bloodedness and swallowing my pride (to put it in Daphne's terms) that made me agree to help mudblood Hermione Granger.

Aphry's eyes lit up, and she grinned brightly. "Oh, thank you, Draco!" Then in her excitement, she lifted on her toes and kissed my cheek before leaving the aisle to go check out her books.

I followed her, with the sole thought that if that was the prize for swallowing my pride, I'd gladly do it again.