Seven Steps -13-
tags: eighth year, drarry, fluff, swearing, drama, melodrama, angst
suggested rating: teen and up, for heavy themes
(tags and rating updated please check them)
Draco didn’t see much of Potter that weekend and began feeling more and more… uneasy. During meals, Potter hardly looked at him, and when Draco did catch him looking, he immediately ducked his head or looked at his friends.
Monday, Draco was walking behind Potter on the way to class and called out a greeting and Potter’s shoulder’s tensed. He didn’t even look back. When Draco came into potions, he found Potter had chosen to partner with Boot. Walking into charms later that day, Potter was sitting snugly between Weasley and Granger, so apparently engrossed in his textbook he didn’t even glance up
“He’s avoiding me,” Draco said, dropping his bag on the floor next to Pansy’s chair in the Slytherin common room.
Pansy looked up from her notes, suppressing a sigh, “So Potter, then the transfiguration paper?”
Draco slumped into a chair. He took out his books and a pile of notes, his mouth pressing into a thin line, “There’s nothing to talk about,” he said flatly.
Pansy frowned faintly, “Draco-”
“He’s avoiding me,” he repeated. His tone wavered, “I can’t- I can’t force him to-” his throat went tight, and he clenched his hands.
Pansy stared at him and then her expression slowly fell, “Oh- Draco. I didn’t think this was serious. Is this thing with Potter serious?”
Draco turned his head away, “Can you not be a bitch right now?”
“I’m getting there,” Pansy snapped. She took a deep breath, “I mean you have to admit, this is- was just like when you had a crush on Theo and then Blaise.”
“That was entirely different,” Draco muttered, his cheeks warming.
Pansy scrunched up her nose, “The level of melodrama was the same.”
“There was no- is-” Draco stopped and sighed, picking up his notes and flipped through the sheets of parchment until he found a clean one, “Let’s just… work.”
Pansy reached over and squeezed his arm, “The paper isn’t due til friday, would you rather drink fire whiskey until we pass out?”
Draco smiled faintly against his will, “I would love that, but I need to get all my assignments done before thursday.”
“Thursday-? Oh,” Pansy tsked, “I forgot you’re still doing that. Blech,” she rolled her eyes and grabbed her books. “At least it will keep you busy, so you don’t have to think about him. He’s not worth it, you know.”
Draco gave her a look, “He’s Harry Potter.”
“He’s a moron with bad hair and even worse luck,” Pansy paused, a frown turning into a deep glower, “I don’t want you to like him. I didn’t say before because I didn’t think it was serious but truthfully, I hate it.”
Draco picked up his quill and smoothed the feather with his fingers.
“It’s not fair,” Pansy went on, “You risk so much. He’s not going to lose anything; he’s not the one that’s going to get hurt, you are.”
“I know,” Draco said softly.
“He never even apologised for sixth year. You almost died.”
“I was going to crucio him-”
“Like that’s even close to the same thing!” Pansy snapped, “Students were lining up to take punishment from you in seventh year-”
“-you could barely cast the stupid spell, it was like being tickled with a feather compared to the Carrows doing it!” Pansy went on.
“Pansy,” Draco said, “I was furious with Potter. It wasn’t going to be like seventh year.”
“Still not the same,” Pansy sniffed. “If nothing else, crucio doesn’t make you bleed out.”
Draco swallowed hard.
“Oh- fuck,” Pansy uncurled Draco’s clenched hand and took the broken quill from him, “I’m sorry Draco. I meant to be upset for you, not upset you.”
“I’m fine,” Draco said, looking blankly at the faded red line across his palm.
Pansy gave him a look as she repaired his quill.
“I will be,” Draco insisted, “I’ve survived worse.”
Pansy silently passed his quill back over and looked at her book, flipping forward a page and then back. “If he hurts you again, I’m going to kill him,” she said abruptly.
Draco shook his head slightly“You can’t kill him. I need you, and you’re of no use to me in Azkaban.”
“Then I won’t get caught,” Pansy said flippantly, “I’ll kill him the muggle way, with my bare hands. Then there won’t be a magic trace.”
Draco smiled faintly, “And then? There’s still the body.”
“I’ll feed it to the giant squid,” Pansy said.
“Ah, the perfect plan,” Draco said flatly.
Pansy nodded, “Of course it is, I thought it up. Now, what was this stupid paper meant to be about?”
“Two feet on how to manipulate approximate intelligence in transfigured objects,” Draco said, flipping ahead in his textbook
“Yes because knowing how clever your talking teacup is is very important,” Pansy said sarcastically,“ What is this, the middle ages?”
“A little past that, I think,” Draco said.
“Brilliant,” Pansy said flatly.
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