drarry fic <3

He’s sitting right in front of me, hair annoyingly, charmingly, messed up, like always. I swear he spells it like that because there is no way someone’s hair should be that messy and still look good. I hate Charms class, even more than I hated Herbology, because I’m no good at charms and I share this class with the Gryffindors (Gryffindors like Harry Potter, who inconveniently sits right in front of me). His presence sticks out like a sore thumb. If he weren’t so obnoxiously loud, if he wouldn’t take up three people’s worth of space with his long legs splayed carelessly about, if his magic didn’t radiate off him like heat off the sun, maybe I could ignore him. But right now I’m doing everything I can to restrain myself from grabbing him by the front of his robes and socking him in the face. Sometimes I imagine hexing him, so he’d stop being so casual near me. It’s like I don’t scare him one bit, despite all the years I’ve spent getting him to loathe me.

For what seems like forever, I’m forced to sit behind this twat, ears picking up on every insignificant sound he makes, eyes detecting every shift of balance. Currently, he’s turning his head to talk to Weasley, which makes it all the worse because my insubordinate eyes lock on to that beautiful profile of his, with his crooked nose and strong brow and pink lips. Over the years, he’s filled out a bit, but he's still incredibly lanky. And he looks so happy it seems unreal, yell-talking to Weasley about Quidditch, his face all animated and frustratingly beautiful. It appears he’s taken a few days off shaving, because rough, dark stubble is beginning to accumulate along his jawline. I wonder what it would feel like to-
“Malfoy, do you have an extra inkwell?” says Goyle, rudely interrupting my musings. I give my table a once over, but I know I’ve only got one. Right now, we’re practicing the color-changing spell on ink, and one look at Goyle’s slick table tells me he’s managed to explode his entire bottle.
“No, you leech. Get one from up front,” I spit. Despite my irritation at his interjection, I’m grateful to have been pulled back to reality. My father will kill me if I don’t get straight Os on the O.W.L.s.
After that, class went smoothly enough, albeit my ink fell a few shades darker than the desired outcome. Then came lunch with the buffoons, both of whom spent the half the hour yammering about last year’s quidditch games (still?), which I found mundane, then the other half arguing about which girl in Lord of the Rings would give the best head (they concluded Arwen), which I found agonizing.The only person who usually saves me from these god-awful discussions, Blaise, was sitting at the other end of the table chatting up a seventh year girl. By Astronomy, I was already bored out of my mind, and I hadn’t even had to look at a star chart yet. Transfiguration should have saved me, but I was so frustrated from Professor Sinistra’s lecture that I couldn’t even perform a vanishing spell. Dinner didn’t make the day any better, as Blaise was still putting the moves on that girl and Goyle spent the whole time making insufferable chewing noises. After dinner, I wanted to be by myself for a minute, but Pansy insisted on having some “just us time,” which meant I had to hold her hand while she yammered on about how much she hated the other girls in our grade and how Professor McGonagall is playing favorites (because Pansy turned in an assignment late and got scolded). By the time everyone went to bed, I was so pent up that I couldn’t sleep.

It’s now one in the morning, and I’m still lying here. I need to go do something, away from Crabbe’s thunderous snoring.
I get out of bed, slowly as to not make any noise. As quietly as possible, I wedge open my underwear drawer and procure a pack of smokes, which I stole from King’s Cross. My father would kill me if he knew.
My favorite alone spot is the window nearest to the Slytherin dorms. It isn’t too close, on account of the Slytherin dorms being underground, but it’s in a secluded, neglected wing so I won’t be found and the sounds of everything else barely reach it. Filch is nowhere in sight. I honestly don’t know how he’s always right there whenever you’re doing something you aren’t supposed to; it’s like he can smell trouble.
They really ought to find a way to lock these windows, because I could sneak out of the school pretty easily. The arch-shaped window opens widely and the ground is only two feet down. I’m not planning on sneaking out tonight, though. I’ll be back in my dorm soon enough not to cause any trouble. Besides, I’ve never gotten caught for being here.
“Incendio,” I whisper, and a small flame shoots from the tip of my wand, right onto the edge of my cigarette. With a few pulls, the cacophony inside my head quiets, leaving only the sound of my breathing and the soft crackling of the cigarette.

I’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes. I really should go, but the thought of being back in that bed with Crabbe’s snoring echoing through the room is unpleasant to say the least. Besides, the moon is so beautiful tonight.
…

I feel eyes on me.
…

Filch is standing right there.
“Shit!” I exclaim, stamping out my cigarette, “Lord Almighty, Filch, you gave me a scare,”
“Come with me, Malfoy,” he says with a pleased sneer. Goddamnit, how did he find me? Did his infernal cat show up and I didn’t realize?
“Lucky for you, Professor Snape is sleeping. I’ll tell him about your little nighttime escapade tomorrow morning,” Filch says. He’s trying to be menacing, but it just feels like a kid who caught their younger brother stealing from the cookie jar. Snape favors me. He won’t give me any punishment.

“Three days of detention”
“What?”
“I said, Malfoy, three days of detention,” said Professor Snape from behind his desk.
“But Professor-”
“I’m sorry, young Malfoy,” he says, cutting me off, “but you can’t keep sneaking out at night. This is your third incident this term, and Mr. Filch said he caught you smoking.”
“Liar,” I mutter.
“You’re saying Mr. Filch was lying?”
“I-”
“You do realize that that is a very serious accusation,” Snape said.
“Okay, yeah, I was smoking.” I said sheepishly. Goddamn that squib.
“You’re to come down to my classroom after dinner for the next three days.”
“Oh come-”
“This isn't up for discussion” Snape said sharply, “Keep talking and we’ll double it.”
I shut my mouth.