Fragile Delay

Chapter 2 - Chapter Two

"But don't you?" She asked earnestly. Snape's treatment of the other houses had bothered her from the first day. He'd often failed students or overlooked properly teaching them simply because they weren't sorted into Slytherin. "You're good, I'll admit, but there are many others with the potential to be better. Only if our professor wasn't a biased fool, and actually bothered to teach them."

"You say that like he teaches any of us," Draco retorted with a raised eyebrow. "I haven't learned a damned thing in that class. He's too busy reprimanding the other houses or commending me on something menial. I've taught myself everything I need to know to succeed in that class. If others can't do the same, then that's their issue."

Cecelia was struck by a moment of silence as she contemplated his words. In a way, he did make a surprising amount of sense. More sense than she ever thought Draco Malfoy could make. After all, why depend on someone when you really only need yourself?

"For once, Malfoy, you may have a point," she conceded, crossing her arms together with a slightly surprised eyebrow raised.

"For once?!" He huffed, crossing his arms like a child. Cecelia rolled her eyes at the all-too-familiar action. "I always make a good point. Maybe you just don't listen. Have you gotten your ears checked recently?"

"Usually when I do listen, it's always 'Potter' this, and 'My Father' that," she mocks, attempting what she considered a pretty spot on impression of Draco's voice. "You tend to get a bit repetitive after having lived around you for five years."

"I hate Potter! I would never talk about him so often," He retorted immediately, a look of disgust crossing his face.

"Of course that's what you latch onto," Cecelia teases. "At this point I'm convinced you're half in love with him."

Draco turns an alarming shade of red, and Cecelia couldn't tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. Likely a bit of both. Cecelia, on the other hand, had a blithe smile.

"I feel as though that blush only further proves my point," Cecelia continues to tease, features lit with a mischievous smile.

"Shut it, Nadir," Draco grumbled out furiously. "My Father—"

"See!" She cut him off, smiling in triumph. "Are you religious or something? Always on about this Father."

The last thing Cecelia expected to happen that night did—Draco snorted. He immediately covered his mouth with a hand but it didn't do much to contain his laughter. Surprisingly, Cecelia found herself joining in with him. She never thought she'd find herself alone with Draco at nearly midnight laughing uncontrollably, but here she was.

After a while, they got themselves back to a reasonable state. Cecelia was surprised at how hard she'd laughed with someone she'd formerly thought so little of. She still had her apprehensions about Draco, but she was starting to see him from a new, more human perspective.

They stayed there talking for much longer than she expected, but it felt like no time had passed. The only indication of how long it had been was her drooping eyelids and Draco's intermittent yawns. When she next checked the time, it was well past two in the morning and encroaching on three.

Draco huffed when he noticed the time. "I probably ought to head to bed," he concedes, making moves to stand. "It's fairly late."

"Need your beauty rest?" Cecelia prodded with an impish grin.

"It takes a lot of effort to look this good, I'll have you know." He sniffed, turning his nose up at her, and combing his hair back dramatically. "I'm sure you wouldn't know anything about that."