THE FURIES ▸ Draco Malfoy

Chapter Three: NEMISIS

Andromeda was grabbing Draco's elbow the second he was in reach, tugging him closer to her by his black robe. "What did you do?"

"Potter won't be a problem anymore," Draco said, keeping his eyes on her cousin over her shoulder. He didn't say it as smugly as he might have if Parkinson were in front of him, but that may have had something to do with how Theodore was still eyeing them. "I'd expect him to be halfway to London before we even finish our meal. It would have been a pity to look up and have his disgusting face ruin my appetite."

"What did you do, Draco?" Mia repeated impatiently, shifting and completely blocking his view of Theodore and Theodore's view of him. Both boys' faces dropped immediately in displeasure.

That left him to peer down at her instead, noticing that she was eagerly awaiting an answer. He took the time to make her even more frustrated by glancing down at her attire, lazily noticing that she had changed from her dress to her uniform. The green tie was hanging loosely on her neck, and he had a feeling that it wouldn't be done correctly until class the next day. Her robe was barely on her shoulders, the Slytherin emblem sticking out as a sore thumb of pride to all. 

It wasn't until he got passed the white shirt that he noticed something different, and his lip twitched into a guiltless smirk as his grey eyes flickered back to her brown. "Look, Romy. You've finally grown into a pair of legs. I was beginning to get worried you would never replace the twigs."

Mia could have sworn that her eye twitched, instinctively tugging at the skirt with a lack of confidence. "I loathe you."

"What? I'm congratulating you! Honestly, do you take no compliments?" he remarked, shrugging his shoulders and shoving his hands into his pockets. His lips stretched a bit further when he saw that she was on the verge of strangling him right then and there. Most of it was due to how easily he was avoiding the subject of Potter, but his personality would always be a major factor in every death wish she concocted in her twisted, little mind. "Fine...I'll tell you about Potter. Later. Right now, you and I better split up before Parkinson puts a boggart in your book bag and Nott sends a bludger to my face... it's too perfect to be disfigured in such a brutal way."

As if only just remembering that they were still surrounded by their classmates, Mia turned hastily to see who was staring at them. It was a decision she regretted immediately. Pansy Parkinson was a few feet away, standing beside the awaiting carriages with a seething sneer on her face. Bulstrode had come to her side in that time, and the two were speaking in harsh whispers while glancing back at she and Draco like they'd been snogging right then and there. In other words, she had tickled the sleeping dragon, and that dragon had a wrath when it came to Draco that Mia was fortunate enough to have never seen until now. If it even slightly looked like there was something between them, Parkinson would raise hell and send it to the wrong person.

"She doesn't seem to approve of your... companionship," Draco quipped, still standing behind her to watch as Pansy mentally murdered Mia a thousand times over with her glares. His comment wasn't as amusing to her as it was to him, and the brunette didn't even have to turn around to elbow the blonde boy in the gut. "Ow! What the hell, Romy? You actually think Parkinson can do anything to you? Have you forgotten all about this summer?"

"What happened this summer?" 

It was the voice of a new arrival that made them tense up immediately, Draco standing to his full height behind a shorter Mia. It was frightening how quickly the lighthearted expressions dripped from their lips, turning their expressions cold and calculating. So, maybe they hadn't discovered the best methods of fitting in after joining the Dark Lord. In fact, the way that Draco's hand went to his wand said a lot about how apprehensive they were on walking into a building filled with wizards and witches who could discover their secret and send them in the direction of their fathers because of it. Their poison of the minute, however, was only Tracey. The curly-haired girl was waiting for an answer, arms crossed over her chest and thick brows arched higher than her grades.