My Magical Waifu

Chapter twenty four

Chapter 24

Dracella POV

Chew daiis befowr da plai

I've spent the last 76 minutes crying my eyes out like a little bitch in the potions room, and I don’t even know why. I gave up on making potions after I set my hair on fake fire and gave myself a panic attack. Potions is now my least favourite subject, as there is no way i’ll ever be able to make a children’s level potion without assistance, and even then I’d probably still mess it up somehow. I sit on the damp, brick floor of the potions classroom in despair. To myself I say, “The play with Parry Hotter is 49 hours away, what am I going to do??”. I am dreading the play. Sure, I got the part I wanted, but now I’m wandering if I actually want to do it at all. Even the thought of getting up in stage makes me feel sick. Then I think of what father would say. There will be plenty of people at the play, the news is sure to spread to my father that his only son is playing the princess in distress!

I let my head fall to my knees and sigh, a deep, sorrowful sigh. I don’t realise until I see him from the corner of my eye, that Parry Hotter is standing right behind me! “P-PARRY! WHATURYOUDOINHERE HAHAHA-“ think of the devil! My face is sticky and red, and I’m so nervous I can’t stop stuttering!
“I could say the same for you, Draco.” He says coldly, then our eyes meet and his face shifts. “Are you—crying..?”
“WHAT? NO. SHUT UP HOTTER, NO ONE ASKED YOU.” I reply sharply, although I had no intention of sounding so harsh. My aggressive reply must’ve shocked him, as he does not speak for a while after that. Harry walks toward a cauldron, and I lay my head back in my knees. Stupid, stupid STUPID! Why did I do that?

Still, I can’t help myself from watching him work. I think potions is the only subject he is good at. I watch as he carefully chops and grinds ingredients, as he pours unicorn tears and different nice-smelling powders into the cauldron, and listen to the crackle of the fire as he heats the concoction and the scraping of the spoon on the cauldron as he stirs it delicately. His handiwork is mesmerising, and I almost forget I’m awake, until he speaks again.
“Are you going to keep staring at me?” I jolt up and look around, not realising how uncomfortable I must have made him feel. “Why are you crying anyway? If you need to, you could talk to me-“
“OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME! I’VE GOTTA GO!” I spring up and dash out of the classroom, leaving Hotter puzzled. Why did I do that, why did I do that?! My hands curl into fists and I sprint up the stairs, across a corridor and down a flight of stairs to my left, back into the Slytherin common room. Thank god, Panties and Blartie are gone. I run down to the boy’s dorm and fall on my bed in fetal position. I don’t even know the time, my clock is broken. I’m so stupid. So, so stupid. God. I lift myself with my twink arms and look at myself in my bedside mirror, and see my emo eyeliner stained across my cheeks from crying. Next to the mirror is the emerald croc from when I went to the ball. The other is back in Duloc, god knows where. Memories from the ball come flooding back to me. Why was my father there? Did he recognise me? What will he say to me next time he sees me...
I sigh again and shove myself off my bed, then change into my kitty cat onesie. I stuff my face into my limited edition pink squishmallow 16 inch. I feel disgusting; my makeup is smeared all over my face and I’m all sweaty and nasty from crying. I’m conflicted between two exceedingly attractive and rich orphan men, and I swear before I left the common room earlier I heard Panties call Bronkie “Daddy”.