Pretty hate-able

The moment the bell rang, I bolted out of the classroom, my heart pounding as if I'd just run a marathon. I didn't even bother packing my things properly—just shoved them into my bag haphazardly and made a beeline for the door. I couldn't bear to face Draco, though I had no idea why. There was a tight, uneasy feeling in my chest that hadn't left me since Potions, and I hated it.

I wove through the crowded corridor, keeping my head down, hoping I could lose myself in the sea of students. But, of course, Draco Malfoy was nothing if not persistent.

"Woah, woah, slow down, Cottoncandy," his voice called from behind me, laced with amusement.

I felt my lips twitch despite myself. I turned my head slightly, slowing my pace as he effortlessly fell into step beside me. He looked at me curiously, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Hey, let's head for Divination, shall we?" he said smoothly, as if I hadn't just been avoiding him for the past fifteen minutes.

I swallowed hard, nodding. "Yeah, let's go."

We made our way up the spiraling staircase leading to Professor Trelawney's classroom, the musty scent of incense already drifting down the corridor. By the time we reached the trapdoor, I had managed to compose myself, at least outwardly.

As we entered, the room was dimly lit, just as always, the air thick with the scent of burning sage and old books. Small round tables were scattered across the room, each adorned with a crystal ball, delicate teacups, and flickering candles. Students were already taking their seats, whispering amongst themselves.

Draco and I instinctively gravitated towards a table at the far end of the room. Just the two of us.

I glanced around, noticing Sree sitting at another table, partnered with Blaise. I had no reason to feel the way I did, but still, there was this strange, unspoken competition between us now—one that I hadn't even acknowledged until today. Seeing her at another table, not sitting with him, made something inside me relax just a little. And that feeling of quiet triumph scared me.

Draco, oblivious to the storm of emotions inside me, leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he studied me. His sharp silver eyes flickered with something between amusement and suspicion.

"You're acting very odd," he observed, narrowing his gaze slightly.

I blinked at him, forcing a nonchalant expression. "No, I'm not," I replied quickly, shaking my head a little too fast.

He scoffed. "Right. Got carried away by my charm? Or did you finally fall in love with me?" His voice was light, teasing, but my reaction betrayed me.

My eyes widened in horror before I could control it.

His smirk faltered for a split second, his expression shifting as if he had just caught onto something he wasn't supposed to.

I scrambled to recover. "It was sarcasm, slow down," he added quickly, waving a hand dismissively, but his gaze lingered on me for a moment too long.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, forcing a laugh that sounded way too forced to be natural. "Obviously, Draco. You're ridiculous."

But my heart was still racing.

Draco studied me for a second longer before leaning back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head in that infuriatingly relaxed way he always did. His smirk returned, though there was something more thoughtful behind it now.

"Well, if you ever do," he said, voice dripping with casual arrogance, "try not to make a scene about it, alright? I don't think I could handle a lovesick Cottoncandy trailing after me."

I rolled my eyes, forcing myself to match his energy. "Yeah, sure. Because I'm obviously dying to throw myself at your feet, Malfoy."

He chuckled, twirling his wand between his fingers. "I wouldn't blame you if you were."

Before I could retort, Professor Trelawney drifted into the room, her shawls billowing behind her, eyes wide as if she were in a trance.

"Ah, my dear students," she breathed, her voice soft and airy, "today... today, we shall gaze into the very fabric of fate itself."

Draco and I exchanged a glance. He was already trying to suppress a smirk.

"Here we go," he muttered under his breath.

I stifled a laugh. "Shhh. You wouldn't want to anger the great seer, would you?"

Professor Trelawney waved her hands dramatically. "Each of you shall peer into the mists of the future... and uncover the mysteries that lie within your soul."

Draco leaned toward me slightly, voice low. "Ten galleons says she predicts someone's untimely demise in the next five minutes."

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. "Make it two minutes, and you've got yourself a deal."

"Now, pair up," Trelawney instructed. "One of you shall read, and one of you shall be read."

I raised an eyebrow at Draco. "Who's going first?"

He smirked. "Ladies first, obviously."

"Fine," I sighed, adjusting my position so I could properly look into the crystal ball between us. I narrowed my eyes, watching the swirling mist inside. "Alright... I see... a great force ahead of you."

Draco pretended to look concerned. "Oh no."

"Yes, a great force," I continued, trying to keep my voice serious. "It's... it's... oh, wow, it's your enormous ego."

Draco let out a laugh, shaking his head. "Very funny, strwayberry ice-cream."

I gave him a disgusted look "Stop with the pink reference, it's getting old and cringey" he laughed heartily.

Before we could continue, Trelawney suddenly gasped, eyes going unnervingly wide. The room fell silent as she clutched the edge of a nearby table, swaying slightly.

"The Dark Veil... looms closer," she whispered. "A shadow... an omen of suffering... someone in this very room is marked for despair."

I swallowed. Okay, that was unsettling.

Draco nudged me with his knee under the table. "Two minutes exactly. Pay up."

I rolled my eyes, but even as I smirked at him, I couldn't shake the chill that ran down my spine.

As the class proceeded, I found myself distracted—not by the lesson, but by Draco. For the first time, I allowed myself to truly admire him. The way his silver-blonde hair fell effortlessly into place, catching the dim candlelight of the classroom. The sharpness of his jawline, the way his Adam's apple bobbed slightly whenever he swallowed. His long fingers tapped absently on the table, his nails perfectly clean and well-kept. Even the slow, steady rhythm of his breath was oddly captivating.

I didn't even realize how long I had been staring until his voice snapped me out of it.

"See something you like, Blackthorn?"

I jolted upright, feeling my cheeks flush with heat. My hands fumbled slightly with my quill as I desperately tried to play it off. "Oh, shut up," I muttered, turning my gaze back to my book, though I had no idea what page we were even supposed to be on.

Draco leaned in slightly, resting his chin on his hand, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Really?" he drawled, his voice low and teasing. "Because it looked like you were absolutely mesmerized by me just now."

I scoffed, flipping a random page in my Divination textbook, pretending to be engrossed. "You wish, Malfoy," I shot back, hoping my voice didn't betray me.

He chuckled under his breath, clearly enjoying himself. "Don't I, though?" he mused, his tone light, but there was something unreadable in his gaze as he watched me.

I refused to meet his eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction. My heart was hammering in my chest, and I had no idea why.

Our next class was Care of Magical Creatures, and we all trudged towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest, clutching the enormous book that Hagrid had assigned us. The Monster Book of Monsters—a book that quite literally bit if you didn't know how to handle it. Mine had already taken a chunk out of one of my quills earlier that morning, and I wasn't in the mood for another battle with it.

Our group stuck together as we walked across the grassy Hogwarts grounds, the sky overcast but not threatening rain—at least, not yet. Draco, as always, had somehow managed to acquire two bodyguards, this time in the form of Pansy and Sree, both of whom flanked him as if he were royalty.

"Look at the prince with his royal guards," Kenny muttered under her breath, smirking.

I giggled at that, which, unfortunately, caught Draco's attention. He glanced back, arching a perfect blonde eyebrow at me before stopping in his tracks completely, forcing the rest of us to slow down.

"Walk faster, Granny," he called out, smirking.

Kenny turned to me with the most teasing side-eye she could muster, barely holding back her laughter.

I rolled my eyes at her before calling back, "Coming right up, Grandson."

The reaction was immediate.

Sree's face was priceless—her expression shifted from neutral to sheer disbelief, as if I had just committed some grave offense. Even Pansy, who rarely found amusement in anything that wasn't Draco-related, let out a small, entertained snort.

Draco blinked at me, clearly not expecting that comeback. His smirk faltered for half a second before he narrowed his eyes at me.

"Cheeky today, aren't you?" he said, tilting his head.

I shrugged, biting back a grin. "Always."

Kenny nudged me playfully, clearly enjoying this a little too much. "Ooooh, he didn't see that one coming," she whispered.

Draco rolled his eyes and continued walking ahead, but I caught the way the corners of his lips twitched slightly, like he was trying not to smile.

The moment we stepped into the Forbidden Forest, the air felt heavier, damp with the scent of moss and damp earth. The towering trees loomed over us, their thick branches intertwining like the bars of a cage, blocking out most of the sunlight. Shadows stretched unnaturally across the ground, and the occasional rustling of unseen creatures sent shivers down the spines of some of the students—not that any of the Slytherins would admit it, of course.

Hagrid stood at the front of the group, his massive figure looking perfectly at home in the eerie surroundings.

"Take out yer books and open 'em," he instructed, his voice a deep, booming presence in the otherwise hushed clearing.

There was a beat of silence.

"Exactly how are we supposed to do that?" Draco's response was immediate, laced with sarcasm.

Hagrid gave him a bemused look. "You just stroke the spine, o'course," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Draco arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow but did as he was told, dragging his fingers lightly down the spine of the Monster Book of Monsters.

I wish I could say I paid attention to the book snapping open obediently, but my mind went places it really shouldn't have at the sight of his fingers moving like that—long, elegant, adorned with rings that caught the dim light.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to look away, snapping out of my thoughts just in time for—

Longbottom.

Neville, in all his bumbling glory, ignored Hagrid's instructions and ripped his book open like it was an ordinary textbook. The book lunged at him immediately, its jagged pages snapping viciously as it grabbed onto his tie and took a solid chunk of his uniform with it.

The entire class erupted into laughter.

Ron, barely containing his amusement, shook his head and smirked. "Stroke the spine, mate."

Even Draco chuckled beside me, and I saw his lips twitch into a genuine smirk, his amusement evident.

Hermione, however, wasn't impressed. She folded her arms across her chest, shooting us a pointed glare. "I think they're funny," she said flatly, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

I smirked. "Oh yeah, terribly funny, pretty witty too. God, this place has gone to the dogs," I mocked, rolling my eyes.

Draco let out a soft chuckle beside me, but then his expression shifted, his smirk turning colder. "Wait until my father hears that Dumbledore's got this oaf teaching classes," he sneered, his voice dropping into that familiar drawl.

For some reason, that comment didn't sit right with me. It was one thing to poke fun at Hagrid's... questionable teaching methods, but another to insult him outright.

Still, there was no chance in hell I was siding with the Gryffindors on this one.

And right on cue—

"ShUt uP, MaLfOy!"

Potter.

I nearly rolled my eyes into another dimension.

Draco's smirk widened, like a cat playing with its food. He took a few mocking steps toward Potter, his movements slow, deliberate.

Then—

"Dementor! Dementor!" he gasped dramatically, his face morphing into exaggerated horror.

Laughter exploded from our side. Blaise doubled over, Kenny clapped like a delighted seal, and Pansy let out a high-pitched giggle, absolutely living for the drama.

Draco, enjoying the moment far too much, draped his robe over his head and wiggled his fingers in an eerie, ghostly fashion. The rest of us immediately followed suit, throwing our hoods over our heads and mimicking Dementors, moving in spooky, exaggerated waves toward Potter and his little fan club.

"Oh no, so scary!" I gasped dramatically, reaching toward Weasley with clawed fingers.

Blaise wobbled his knees, swaying like he was about to collapse. "Merlin help us, the horror!"

Even Crabbe and Goyle, who rarely displayed any sort of comedic timing, were stomping around like oversized Dementors, waving their hands like deranged specters.

Hermione. Did. Not. Find. It. Funny.

With an exasperated sigh, she grabbed Potter's wrist and yanked him back, breaking the little scene before it could escalate any further.

"Come on, Harry," she muttered through clenched teeth.

Potter, however, didn't move right away. He stood there, staring at Draco with something strange in his expression.

I barely noticed it at first, but the moment dragged on longer than it should have—his jaw clenched, his eyes dark, not with anger, but with something else.

Something about Dementors.

Something that wasn't mockable.

Draco, sensing that the fun had died, rolled his eyes and dropped his arms. "Oh, lighten up, Scarhead," he drawled, dusting off his robes. "It's a joke."

But Potter had already turned away, expression stormy, marching off toward where Hagrid stood waiting.

Hermione followed, her shoulders stiff.

Ron, however, threw one last murderous look in our direction before stomping off after them.

Draco simply shrugged. "Touchy, isn't he?"

I nodded. "Yeah"