The Mudblood

Chapter 82 : Year 4

"Yeah, for you, because you don't have to snog any of them on Valentine's Day," Malfoy snapped, his eyes darting briefly in Coral Dent's direction. "I don't fancy snogging chunky girls—"

"And you're a total prick, so I don't care," I retorted shortly. "You don't have to snog anyone on Valentine's Day anyway. It's just a dumb holiday... I won't be snogging anyone, so I don't see why you can't do the same."

"She seems—er...jel—jelly?" Crabbe stuttered with uncertainty.

"Jealous, yes, Crabbe, we know. You don't have to state the obvious," Malfoy muttered snidely. "I didn't call you over here to hear your opinions on my snogging life, Fitzroy. We actually have a request to make."

"We?" I questioned, glancing between the two of them skeptically.

Malfoy's jaw shifted impatiently before he commanded, "Get your weird friend Pucey to date my boy Crabbe."

"Um, why would I ever do something for you?" I asked with a dull eyebrow raise.

"You know Pucey likes him," Malfoy grunted, peeking over at Ashley where she sat alone at the table. "Just help me set it up."

"They haven't talked in months—not since your douche bag father killed mine," I added to Crabbe in a spiteful tone. "And now she's basically dating Bletchley—"

"Just do it, Fitzroy," Malfoy groaned exasperatedly.

"Fine—Crabbe? Do you still want to date Ashley?" I inquired bluntly.

Crabbe was instantaneously flustered by my sudden question, and he fidgeted with his hands while stuttering, "W-Well...ye—yeah...I s'pose..."

Groaning loudly, I threw my head back and then took in a deep breath. "Fine, but you prats owe me. I don't much like the idea of this Death Eater-spawned goon dating my friend."

"I won't give you detention for leaving illegal candies around the common room," Malfoy offered, tilting his head sassily.

I narrowed my eyes at him but didn't retort before marching across the common room to join Ashley again. Much the same as when I'd left, Ashley was staring at one of the stone walls, her head propped up by her elbow with her school books untouched.

"Hey, Ash," I greeted carefully. "Did you—did you close my Arithmancy book? I thought I left it open..."

"Probably," Ashley said with a heavy sigh. "Who knows..."

"Er—are you doing all right? You've been acting abnormally gloomy lately," I observed as I hastily scooted into the seat I had been occupying before. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing... Just thinking about Bletchley and being sad," she replied dejectedly, her languid eyes still stuck on the wall behind me.

"Um...well...if it cheers you up any, Crabbe wants to know if you'll go on a date with him," I offered in a very unenthusiastic tone.

"Crabbe?" she repeated, her eyes finally focusing on me as her face twisted with dramatic confusion. "I've barely talked to Crabbe since his douche bag father killed your father."

I nodded dryly. "Exactly what I said."

"But," she began with a deep breath, "well... Bletchley and I clearly aren't soul mates, so maybe—"

"Why are you so unhappy with Bletchley?" I questioned immediately, feeling appalled that she would even consider dating Crabbe. "I mean—I thought you've been snogging him all the time."

"Well, yeah, but then he wants to talk too, and I don't want him to talk," she explained simply. "When he's talking, I can't be talking."

My lips slanted in a mixture of bafflement and speechlessness. "Um..."