Realisation
All it takes is one conversation, Cygnus found himself figuring out. He sat quiet on his bed, hands folded tight in his lap. One conversation, and now Potter wasn’t just some annoying gnat he had to tend with. No, now he was a person, with depth, and opinions, and feelings. And oh, how Cygnus wished he could go back. He would have walked away, not even entertained the boy in the first place. But no, Cygnus had to suffer with the information that Potter was just as human as he was.
It hadn’t even been a long conversation, in hindsight. Just a few minutes, really. But Potter had argued with him so vehemently that Cygnus couldn’t deny it. Potter had more depth than Cygnus had given him credit for. And this realisation opened a whole host of other issues that Cygnus didn’t even want to begin thinking of.
The boy had unfortunately developed an annoying habit of finding Potter rather fit, and that coupled with this newfound glimpse at Potter’s humanity was shaping up to be an awful, awful predicament. He looked over on his bedside table, hoping to distract from his startling realisations. His eyes fell on the bouquet he’d received from his cousin some days ago for his birthday. It was a beautiful mix of double flowered begonias, Scottish marigolds, and sword lilies, a striking display of reds and golds. And yet, looking at them, Cygnus couldn’t help but laugh and wonder if his cousin somehow had the foresight to mock him. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to think that Draco would pick up something as inane as Victorian flower language to throw him sly insults.
With a long-suffering sigh, the boy drew himself up from the bed, joint by joint like a marionette pulled to stand. There was some class he knew he needed to be getting to, but the details alluded him as he went through the motions to fix himself up. After all, wrinkled clothes and mussed up hair were hardly befitting someone of his status, as his grandmother always stressed.
The following walk from his dorm to his class, which he had had to glance at his schedule to double check, was rather uneventful. Spent in careful, measured steps and wild, racing thoughts. Cygnus hadn’t stepped into the classroom and settled in his seat for two whole minutes before the cause of his troubled thoughts came in, laughing and chatting loudly amongst his little group. The boy sat a bit straighter in his chair, feigning nonchalance as he looked away from Potter and his groupies.
Draco looked his way, raising a brow. “Something wrong, Swan?” He asked, taking his books from his bag.
“Nothing’s wrong, don’t be silly, Dragon,”
“I suppose Potter goes by ‘nothing’ now, then?”
Cygnus pulled a face at that, furrowing his brow and scrunching up his nose. “I haven’t a clue what you’re on about. You’re a bloody dafty,” He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.
“And that’s why you’re puffing up and posturing like that, Lord Black?” He asked, using the boy’s title as a tease.
Cygnus narrowed his eyes at the other, a scowl forming on his lips. “Don’t mock me,” he turned his attention to the professor instead. Though, even that proved boring after a while. As he idly scanned the classroom, his eyes landed on Potter against his consent. The boy was just sitting there, furiously scribbling his notes. Cygnus found himself staring, noting the messiness of Potter’s tie, the wrinkles in his shirt, the way his cheeks dimpled when he smiled. It was quite the sight, if Cygnus was allowed to say so. He only tore his eyes away when Potter met his gaze, and even then, it was a glare and a slow look away.