I assume this comes as no surprise to hear that Sam was completely right at calling me out the other night.
Not even a day later I found myself seated in another concave of books with my arms wrapped around Draco's neck.
But unlike the last time, when all my energy seemed to come from my anger towards him, it had dispersed into light-hearted jitteriness. And this wasn't just me.
I'd stop between kisses to look at him and catch a wondering look in his gaze, as if he too couldn't believe I was there in front of him.
It was a progressively new side to Draco that I only saw in far off glimpses in the past. And even those glimpses would be second guessed by the way he'd brush it all off and act smug to cover for any normal emotion.
Now I was a bit too close for him to brush off what was so blatantly there in front of us. If anything, the one fear I had now was what he saw from me up close. And what he would do with that information.
Of course, getting caught was up there too on my list of worries, but it never seemed to phase Draco. In fact, that second day we were almost caught by Pince had it not been for how quickly the pair of us raced off together, hand in hand, from her incoming footsteps.
Around another bend of books beside the restricted section, we'd listen as Pince's voice would echo dangerously close to where we had just run from. All cozied up between a shelf and Draco, I'd watch him affectionately with a growing smirk as Draco continued to listen in high alert for any incoming footsteps.
When a moment passed, he turned back to look at me, and catching sight of me smirking, he relaxed completely before shaking his head at my banter.
"What are you smirking at?"
"Nothing," I teased as he lifted my chin and ran his index finger up my jawline before pulling me toward him gently by the base of my neck. My heart was hammering like a humming bird at the gentleness of that kiss and what followed at the sound of incoming footsteps.
Alert again, he shhhed me as I looked away from him snickering. After glancing around the bend of books to see if Pince was coming, he turned back to me and turned back a lock of my hair from my face.
"We're going to have to a find a better place," he said as I turned back to face him with a lingering smile.
"You're telling me," I joked while my hands played with the collar of his robes. "Any ideas?"
"I'll think of something," he said oddly confident, "though this would be easier if we didn't hide from people-"
"No," I stated, giving him a warning look aimed at his slow spreading smirk.
"Why? Afraid of how your friends will react?" He argued though by the grin remaining on his face, I knew he was doing this out of good fun. He was fine with the current arrangement we had going and only did this to pester me.
Even in public earlier that day, he made a habit of talking to me in front of his friends, though he had returned to calling me Fountaine and every comment was more a chance to poke fun of me.
Sam thought it was a poor excuse of flirting but I liked it.
I flicked him on the neck by his collar in response, before pulling him toward me again by his robes. After rambling kisses that started to leave me breathless I stopped to look him right in the face.
"Unless you'd like to have a fun conversation with my brother, I'd say it would be in our best interests if we kept this quiet. "
"Obliviously," he mused without a shadow of a doubt which made me frown.
"You're not afraid of my brother?"
"No," He said back immediately.
"You are such a damn liar-"
He kissed me again to cut me off, though this time it was long and drawn out, like the ones that make you curl into the other like magnets. If I thought I was breathless before I was way off. When he released me, I could tell he was smug over the kiss.
"Let's not fight every time we see each other, hmm?" he asked, pulling me closer by the belt of my skirt.
I shrugged coyly at him, leaving my answer open to imagination. He gave me a wary look before dropping his hands and taking a step back.
"I've got to go. I'll see you after Herbology-"
"Wait!" I said, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him back with raised brows.
"Clingy, are we?"
"Oh, shut up. You should be thanking me," I scoffed through an incoming blush as I started to re-adjust his tie and turn back his hair. "If you walked out like this your friends would call you out. And then what?"
"I'd tell them the truth," he said back with a mocking smile that made me glare at him as I fixed his tie a little too tightly. He coughed as his hand shot up to his tie and readjusted it while I watched with little remorse.
"I'm serious about keeping this quiet, Draco. At least for now. So please?"
"Fine," he said after a pause. "I'm just trying to help."
He left without another word, leaving me to stand by the shelf, lost in thought.
"You're quiet. Everything alright?" Hermione asked, stirring me from my thoughts. It was the late afternoon post-classes. Hermione and I were situated under a tree in the grounds with yarn going every which way and a sole pair of knitting needles being switched between hands on repeat.
"Yeah, sorry," I excused myself with a dry chuckle. "Just tired," I explained further. "With school work and all-" Hermione nodded in understanding as she relaxed her hand on her needles.
"I figured that might be the case. Snape has been ruthless recently with homework. Even I've run into a problem or two that keeps me up."
"Did I tell you how Umbridge has weekly meetings scheduled with me now?" The look Hermione gave me answered that question. "For whatever reason she believes she has a duty to pay special attention to me and my coursework. Something about my past schooling taking place at Beauxbatons being a challenge or other."
"She's horrid," Hermione said with a shake of the head; her gaze turning back to her knitting. "With OWLS coming this year, fifth years are expected to cast these spells for her class by the end of term and yet we've yet to use our wands once!"
"And she's snooping on other teachers now. Have you seen her in action yet?" I asked curiously while my gaze looking on to her needle work. Hermione's brows rose at the mention.
"Once for Transfiguration. McGonagall wasn't happy but you know how she is. Umbridge doesn't like her but she can't exactly flag her for poor teaching. Professor McGonagall is one of the best and knows it."
The thought of McGonagall looking over her hooked nose at the fruffy disgrace known as Umbridge brought twisted happiness to my heart.
"I wish I was there for that."
"Well it's not all good," Hermione continued with a glance up at me. "Ron and Harry saw her give Trelawney a lot of trouble. Granted she's a fraud ever I saw one."
"Most teachers are in that field," I agreed.
"But that doesn't mean I want Umbridge to sack Trelawney. For all we know we'll end up with another spy for Fudge in the staff."
"Or worse," I concluded. "Umbridge might start taking up that class too."
"She can't possibly have the time for two classes," Hermione reminded me logically. I shrugged before stopping her in her work.
"You've backhanded that stich again. Let me see." Hermione sighed in defeat before handing her work over.
"And I thought I was getting the hang of this. It's good that you can teach me at least." I grinned her way before undoing her last line of stitches and restarting for her.
"If we always had brilliant teachers for every skill we wanted to learn, life would be much easier I think. Though you'd have to want to learn the skill for the teacher to be able to help." I handed back the knitting to Hermione only to see her staring off in space, her mind elsewhere.
"What?"
"No, it's just-" She paused and grabbed the knitting from me; her brow lined in thought.
"If we could find such a teacher for Dark Arts, maybe my class would stand a chance for OWLS."
"Maybe. But what teacher has free time given the amount of work they carry teaching all age levels? You said it yourself, it's impossible."
Hermione sighed, seeing she was cornered and returned to her knitting.
"You're right. I'm just angry about all this is all."
"That's fair," I validated with a smile. "Granted, if there was such an extended class with a brilliant teacher, I'd join in heart beat." Hermione nodded along in agreement.
The following day I was walking to Herbology with Sam and Ella when an owl came shooting through one of the open windows of the hall way with a letter addressed to me.
"I assume this is from my dear Mamen," I said with a hint of a smile while my friends looked on curiously. The owl was familiar, as was the handwriting.
After sending the owl on its way, I opened the letter to find my theory correct. I snorted as I read through my mother's writing, before handing it over to Sam and Ella to read if they were so inclined.
"Ah yes, Mother Fountaine is upset," Sam sufficed before handing it along to Ella to read.
"What about though?" She asked before starting on the letter.
"My brother is marrying this no-maj girl from high money without my parents' consent. It's a real stereotypical thing to do if you ask me," I mused as we turned the corner toward the greenhouses.
"And she wants you to get involved. Utterly bizarre," Sam commented with a shake of the head. Ella stopped in her step suddenly, her eyes still glued to the note before finally looking up with outrage.
"Your mum's evil!"
"Only on special occasions," I mused with a sigh while Sam gave me a passing look.
"No mother should do this. What, does she really think blackmailing her future daughter-in-law is going to do anything?" Ella questioned as she rejoined our walk to class.
"Sadly yes," I explained. "Though whether I will take part in it is out of the question. I am not like my mother you see," I said with a smile that made Sam snort.
"If there was any indication that you are like your mother, this letter is pure proof that you two are cut from the same cloth."
"Am not!" I cried out. "I've gotten much better with time. Marie said that I will age like fine wine!"
"Well then Marie is playing kiss ass again," Was the last Sam said before the three of us entered Herbology.
Any potential jab I had planned to say next left my mind the moment I caught sight of Umbridge in her pink cardigan standing in the back corner of the greenhouse with pink quill and notepad at the ready.
Professor Sprout looked anything but pleased, a sure sign that we were in for it this lesson.
With a final gaze between my friends, we took our seats and prepared for the lesson ahead.
-
Hi there,
I'd hate to think who hates me after the stint I pulled leaving you lot for two weeks after that last chapter post. I'd hate the author too if I was a reader in that situation. Weirdly enough though, I hit a bit of a snag with what to write next which is stupid considering we all know what's coming.
But here we are. I'll post again soon, so until then.
-WG-