Troublesome
//>Draco<//
"Where do you prefer we work?" I ask in an attempt to ease down the awkward tension building up in the air. The entire time Potter was observing the vial of Amortentia, I never failed to notice his slight furrow of a brow every time he stole a glance at me. Was he disgusted? Was he ashamed of working with me?
And why would I care, I was so much better.
"What do you mean?" He glances at me again, and again, his brow furrowed.
Stop furrowing your goddamn brow or I'll blow it off.
I scoff under my breath, having no idea if I should be amused or exasperated at his lack of comprehension. "Where do you want to work, oh mighty Potter?"
"Shut it, Malfoy."
"Bloody make me, Potter."
Narrowing my eyes, I watch as his eyes barely widened, as if contemplating something in his head—like he had something to say, but he held it in. I watched as his lips parted to speak, but nothing but a sigh escaped them.
"Thought so." I huff.
"Class dismissed. Don't forget your assignments, or I'm failing you all in potions." Snape's voice pierced through the air of chatters and discussion, relieving me in some way. "We could meet up at the library." Harry finally responds to my previous question, emitting a slight scoff from my throat as I give him a side glance. "Took you long enough to decide."
"At least I still decided, Malfoy." Harry hands the vial of Amortentia to me, which I take with careful fingers.
"Be glad I'm complying with your shitty sass, Potter. If this weren't a grade, I'd have hexed you." I berated with a frown, keeping my books and parchment.
"Likewise." He states, walking past me.
Good. We're on the same page. The second we submit this assignment, I'll hex the living daylights out of him.
--~--
The library was barely filled with anyone.
I knew that Pansy and Blaise were inside, but I couldn't sit with them. They'd mock Potter along with I, and would probably lead into a duel, and would lead to a loss in house points, and would lead to the assignment failing ever so drastically, and would lead to—
"How long have you been waiting here?" A modulated voice comes up beside me.
"Not long." I respond, glancing at Potter who adjusted his round glasses. My eyes run down to the gold and maroon scarf around his neck, and only then did I notice how cold I was without my own scarf.
"Have you started your part?" He asks, sitting across me. Purposely. Obviously.
"Not yet. Scanned through some books and all." I push the stack of books to his direction, which makes his eyes go dead. Like it was going to be absolute hell working with me. "Don't give the books that stare, Potter. You'll thank me for boosting your potions grade."
"I'd rather fail Potions than deal with your arse, Malfoy." He retorts, taking one book from the top and flipping through the pages.
"We just need information on Amortentia, and that's it." I state firmly, taking one book myself.
"Definitely didn't know that. Thanks a ton." He murmurs under his breath, but still purposely audible for me to hear it. My eyebrows furrow, and I snap my eyes back to him. "Don't give me that bullshit." I mumble.
"I'll serve it on a silver plate." He grits his teeth.
....
Silence was dancing along with the sound of pages flipping. We were the most quiet in the library, and I've caught multiple students catching glances and stares at us. Maybe even fueling the school gossip. How ridiculous.
I move my gaze down to the book I was reading, my spare hand scribbling some information to revise later on. Out of sheer curiosity on my partner's progress, I lift my eyes to him.
He practically buried his face into the books, his hair all ruffled like a bird's nest, and was the only visible feature of his head than his glasses and emerald eyes. Emerald eyes, I wonder why he wasn't sorted into Slytherin when his eyes were of the banner..
As he flips a page, he his head back, and back into the pages again, furrowing his eyebrows in either frustration towards me, or towards the pages he was reading. The pages I forced him to read, which could really just mean he hates me. Detests me. Despises me. Loathes me. Resents me. I understand if he would, I'd been nothing but a prick to him in our 5 years in Hogwarts. Started in the Hogwart's Express, down to the walls of Hogwarts itself.
"Have you made any progress?" I question quietly.
His eyes lift towards my direction, shrugging his shoulders.
"Use your words, you aren't mute are you, Potter?" I blurt out with a frown.
"Found some information. Jotted down some, and no I'm not." He responds with sarcasm laced to his voice, making me exhale out the words I wanted to desperately say, but spared.
"Good." Is all I reply with. And again, awkward tension dances upon the air.
The silence was infuriating. It was frustrating. It was fucking shameful.
Why can't I initiate a conversation with this Gryffindor? If he was either Pansy or Blaise, I'd have been rambling about how much I despise him with all my heart. I'd have been rambling about my experiences, rambling about how annoying Holy Potter was—
Oh.
I see why.
At the realization, I felt my cheeks go warm, causing me to lower my head down to the book I held, almost mirroring his actions as I read through the pages. Instead of thinking about the words on the page, I thought about how troublesome this entire thing was. Was I really just to sit here in silence with books in front of me while my partner was doing the same thing, for the entire assignment? Would every single day with Harry—working with Harry, really be just like this because of our.. Prejudices against each other?
"So," He clears his throat, snapping me out of my own trance, and it was only then I had realized I was staring at an interesting spot on my book.
"So." I prompt for him to respond, eyes finally on his.
"So how often do we do this? Yeahh.. Where, and how often do we do.. This." Potter gestures to their work with a modulative voice, visibly trying not to add onto the awkward tension filling the air.
"Uhh.. Often. Yeah, we do this often, all right.." I swallow down the lump consisting of my pride. "We could do this.. Often. Often in.. Places, often in places alright.."
What the absolute fuck?
Since when did I, the great Draco Malfoy speak like some sort of petulant child?
And what the hell is often in places?!
"Right right.. Totally. Definitely." Potter nods in agreement, equally as embarrassed as me.
Oh Merlin's beard, have I stuttered over Saint Potter?
I flutter my eyes closed, exhaling as I attempted to regain my composure. My composure. My precious composure alongside my dignity, my reputation, my name as a Malfoy, my name as Draco Malfoy.
"We'll do this after classes, if we don't have any agenda. In the library." I finally say with a confident tone, feeling like an absolute jester after my previous attempts to speak coherently in front of Potter. Harry Potter.
"I reckon we've got Quidditch practice. The next match is this Friday, so we'll probably be occupied." He responds, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.
"Right right, how could I forget.." I curse to myself. Slytherin vs Gryffindor was this coming Friday, how wonderful..
"How about we gather information respectively and then we put it all together, and revise it?" Potter suggests with a shrug, and a glance to me in validation.
"Oh wow, you've made a smart decision this entire day. A world record, Saint Potter, I'm impressed." I chuckle mockingly, smirking at him as his face contorts into one annoyance once again.
"Don't get used to it." He states.
"I definitely won't, Potter, you have my word." I stand up and pack my things.