two’s company - part three
gif is from google // read part two here! // join my taglist!
pairings: draco malfoy x fem!reader, harry potter x fem!reader
warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, emotional abuse, toxic draco
summary: back in class on monday. draco has words about your budding relationship with harry.
Sunday went by faster than you anticipated, and before you knew it you were back in your History of Magic class. Usually you had this class with Draco, but when his seat was still empty when Professor CuthbertBinns began the lesson, you deduced he was either going to be late or skipping entirely. So when Harry slid into the vacant seat next to you to take Draco’s place, you didn’t protest for a second.
“I got a Dumbledore card,” he whispered into your ear as the professor began to discuss the great Muggle-Wizard Split of the 15th century. You gave him a confused look for a second before remembering the promise you’d made on your Hogsmeade trip just a couple of days before.
“Sounds like I owe you a Helga Hufflepuff then,” you responded with a grin. “Trade at dinner in the Great Hall?”
“It’s a date,” Harry responded, giving you the smile where his tongue poked out just enough for you to see it, your favorite expression of his. You felt your face heat up at the idea of Harry considering it a date, and you quickly turned back to your book on the desk in front of you. You barely listened to the rest of the lecture that the ghost professor was giving, your mind was completely focused on Harry and the way he’d managed to make your face red as many times as he had since the two of you had started talking.
Once class finally let out, you began to gather your things together again to leave, headed directly to your Divinations class, but Harry stopped you just before you left the classroom.
“Is dinner in the Great Hall tonight a definite plan, then?” he asked, his cheeks stained pink. “I didn’t think to ask to make certain.”
“It’s a definite date,” you said with a grin, not thinking twice about your words.
The pink in Harry’s cheeks deepened to a bright red as he nodded eagerly. “That sounds great,” he said earnestly. “Six o’clock?”
“Six o’clock,” you responded, already leaving the classroom to get to your next class.
You couldn’t help the grin on your face as you hurried to your Divinations class, barely making it to the classroom and into your seat on time before Trelawney entered the classroom.
Draco entered the room soon after that, confirming your suspicion that he’d simply skipped History of Magic. His hair was messy and his tie was crooked, and you bit back a laugh—he was certainly going to lose Slytherin House Points for that one, but you were more concerned about how unkempt the boy looked. You’d never known him to appear outside of his room if he didn’t look absolutely perfect.
He slid into his normal seat next to you, and you made sure you were far enough from him that you didn’t touch him. You noted then that even his robe was buttoned up incorrectly—like he’d done it in a hurry. You shook your head, ridding yourself of any thought of the white-haired Slytherin boy; instead you turned your full attention to the crystal ball that sat before the two of you, desperate already for class to be over with.
“Draco Malfoy,” came Trelawney’s shrill voice, “you look a right mess right now, is there a reason behind that?”
“Sorry, Professor,” came Draco’s voice. “I took a nap instead of getting lunch today and woke up late—barely had time to pull my robe back on before getting to class.”
Trelawney sighed impatiently. You knew as well as the rest of the class did that Trelawney hated taking class time to do anything that wasn’t related to class—she avoided anything like that at all costs. So the fact that she started class by calling out your ex-boyfriend’s violation of dress code was surprising, to say the least.
“That’ll be ten points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy,” came the professor’s clipped reply. “Don’t let it happen again.”
You didn’t even have to look at Draco to know he’d rolled his eyes in response. He’d win House Points back in Quidditch, or in Potions—Snape was always jumping at the opportunity to award them to Draco in particular.
Trelawney jumped right into the day’s lesson after that, evidently eager to get the ball rolling on teaching your class about crystal ball readings.
“You’re not meant to see the entirety of a future event,” she droned on. “Only Divine Seers can do that, and there have only been two of those in all of documented magical history. According to the timelines of those, they only come around once every seven hundred years or so.”
She gave you instructions to move closer to your crystal ball, and you and Draco did so at the same time, your knees brushing together. You shivered at the contact but quickly shook it off, still refusing to look at Draco.
“You should see symbols floating in the smoke in the ball,” Trelawney explained, and you looked more closely at the glass sphere—you could barely make out a mouse, and what looked like a burning bonfire. You tried to get a closer look, but the images faded as soon as they appeared.
Trelawney made her rounds across the classroom, stopping at your table.
“Draco,” she drawled, her lip curling. “What images did you see?”
“I, uh—” he stuttered. You looked at him for the first time all class, hoping he’d stumble through his answer just as clumsily.
“I saw—a ball of yarn,” he burst out finally. “It looked like a ball of yarn, and the other thing looked like a dragon.”
Trelawney’s mouth curled up into a smirk, and you looked at her expectantly. “You’ve just had someone who means a lot to you cut ties with you,” she said then, and the blood in your veins ran cold. “They’ve cut ties with you, and the dragon represents the anger and hurt you feel about it. They’re big feelings and you don’t know how to handle them. I recommend talking to this person—I feel as though things can still be fixed.”
Draco’s face was a dark red, a stark contrast from his normally pale complexion. You had no time to process this before Trelawney turned to you, repeating the same question she’d asked Draco.
“I, um—I saw what looked like a mouse and a burning campfire,” you blurted out, hoping what Trelawney was about to say wasn’t about Draco.
“Ah, new love,” she said dreamily, and you gave her a very confused look. “You have someone new in your life, and the air is full of love and passion. You’re slightly scared of it though, you don’t want to be hurt. Just be careful not to let the fire burn too brightly too quickly, and you’ll be completely fine.”
You felt your own face heat up as she walked around, discussing the other students’ results, and predicting that one of the girls you recognized from your own house would die within the month. Despite the fact that she’d seemingly been spot-on about your prediction, you had to roll your eyes at that one.
It took forever and a day for class to be let out, and you were all too eager to escape to your dorm room, but Draco grabbed your hand before you could make it to the staircase.
“What’s this about someone new in your life?” he demanded, eyes flashing. You wrenched your wrist out of his grip and glared back at him, hoping your eyes were full of the same fire. “The people that are or aren’t in my life are none of your business anymore, Malfoy,” you spit. “Besides, why are you so concerned about Trelawney’s prediction? You know she’s a crock. Most of her shit is bullshit.”
“Because she was right about me,” Draco growled, coming closer to you. This surprised you; you weren’t used to Draco being open about anything, much less his feelings.
“We’re over, Draco,” you reminded him, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “I have a date with Harry Potter tonight, so you can stop worrying about who I do or don’t have in my life.”
“You have a date with Harry Potter?” came Draco’s incredulous question. “You—with—” he cut himself off, running a hand through his already messed-up silver locks. “Already? It’s been two weeks, y/n,” he snapped.
“So? It’s not like we ever actually dated,” you reminded him.
He forced out a fake laugh, one full of bitterness and resentment. “Fuck you,” he bit out. “Fuck you. You’ve probably already shagged half the castle at this rate, since you clearly don’t give a shit about any of the time we spent together.”
You scoffed. “Is that really how little you think of me?” you demanded, but Draco only shook his head, refusing to meet your eyes.
“It doesn’t matter,” he shot back. “And it figures, anyway. You have a date with Harry Potter, and I was late to class because I was fucking Pansy Parkinson in the fourth-floor broom closet.”
You froze at those words, the daggers in your chest tearing open the old wounds you thought had been healing all over again.
“I—you don’t mean that,” you whispered, blinking rapidly in a desperate attempt to keep yourself from crying in front of him again.
“No, I definitely did,” Draco said, his signature smirk plastered on his stupid pale face. “Best I’ve ever had, really. Well worth the House Points I lost.”
You couldn’t say anything else to the boy in front of you, and he took that as a sign he’d won the argument.
“See you ‘round, (last/name),” he said, spinning on his heel and heading down the stairs, away from Divinations class and away from you.
You struggled to keep the tears in before you got back to your dorm room, but they spilled in abundance once you had finally shut the door behind you again.
You couldn’t meet Harry for dinner like this, but you couldn’t stand him up, either. That would only mean that Draco had been right about everything he’d said to you.
And you hated that you were as jealous of Pansy as you had been. It shouldn’t have gotten to you so badly, but he knew it would’ve. That’s why he’d said it.
You buried yourself under your covers as you let yourself continue to cry.
Hopefully you’d get this out of your system before dinner.
But you had no idea how you’d explain this to Harry.
29 notes · View notes