The Bracelet (Draco Malfoy Fanfiction)

Chapter 22

Too distracted to remember that I had just been leaving, I slowly pace over to the books, and drag my finger along the spine of a particularly thick one.

After seemingly endless days of doing all of the work in potions while Draco sat back and relaxed, I never expected him to really like reading, or anything of the sort.

I pull the book away from the shelf, dusting off the cover. It is black, laced through with bits of purple. The title reads Secrets of the Darkest Art.

Without a second thought, I flop down onto Draco's bed and crack the book open in front of me, curiosity rich in my mind.

Upon reading the first few words, I feel like throwing up. The book is filled with terribly dark magic, and I wonder why in the name of god Draco would have such a book in his room.

Maybe I'll ask him later. However, usually my questions aren't as interesting to him as they are to me.

I slide it back onto the shelf with unease, and pull out a more friendly looking one that appears to be a Russian novel by the name of Generations of Winter.

It looks a lot more appealing than the first book, so I flip open to the starting page and fall back onto Draco's bed once again.

After hours upon hours of turning pages, and finding myself more lost in the novel with every word I read, my eyelids feel heavily weighted, and without realizing it, I slip into a deep slumber.

***

Draco's POV -

Although I said I'd return at 6:00, it's 7:00 when I get home. I had gone to Hogwarts to work on the vanishing cabinet, and it wasn't much fun.

I gently push open the door to my room, expecting it to be quiet and empty, when I see Jennifer sprawled across my bed. Her red hair is spanned across my pillow, her arm hanging off the side of the bed. One of my books is propped open against her stomach.

I don't bother to bite back my grin, since she is sleeping. It stretches painfully wide, but that doesn't matter.

"Wake up, Mania." I say, setting my bag across the room. There's a barely noticeable shift in the room as she sits up, and I don't need to turn around to know that she's blushing right now. Damnit, I love the effect I have on her, and how she has no control over it.

When I do face her, I can't hold back my smirk, as she is turning a deep shade of red.

"Why did you come in my room? Did you miss me that goddamn much?" I say, deciding to toy around with her.

"Never in a million years." She says, but her voice is quiet. "So, how did it go? You know, whatever you were doing. I hope it went well."

"It did." I lie, running a hand through my hair and sitting down on the edge of the bed. It seems like that's the first time she hasn't asked me a question about my task, although she doesn't even know that that's what it is. "What do you want to do for the rest of the night?"

"Hmm..." She says, tapping her index finger against her chin a few times. "Do you have a pool?"

"Of course, I'm not a dumbass." I say.