28 | Moody & Malfoy

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"EPISKEY!" I whispered under my breath, my wand grasped in my hand.

The two of us had been left in Moody's office, while the professor went to check on Wood in Pomferey's care. I was told he was fine, and that the spell that I hexed him with only left him unconscious for a few minutes—but to me that meant nothing. I still hurt him.

Draco winced at the muttering of my spell, the swelling of his jaw suddenly disappearing in a quick flush. His cut lip seemed to seam itself back together as well, the dried blood fading away as if it was never there.

"Thank you," he mumbled, rubbing his cheek in pain.

He was seated at the desk beside me, his dress robes crumpled from the fight before, and his hair disheveled messily. He sighed, giving me a sad smile. "I'm sorry, [y/n], I really am."

I glanced away, "why?"

"Because I should have just walked away."

I opened my mouth to speak, but hesitated to find the words. Draco was right. He should have just walked away, but Oliver shouldn't have edged him on, and I shouldn't have...let my mind slip away.

"I'm just glad you're feeling better," I exhaled, rubbing the bridge of my nose stressfully, "it's just that this whole night is turning out to be a...complete mess."

"I know."

"I just..it's just—dammit, Draco," I swore, dropping my head into my hands, "I can't believe I let this whole thing get out of hand."

"It's not your fault."

"But I still hurt Wood, and now the whole school probably thinks I'm an awful person for what I did!"

"They don't think that."

"They do."

"Then screw them, for heaven's sake," he mumbled, "I'll never think that of you, and even if the school turns on us more than they already have, I'm still going to be here."

I opened my mouth to speak, but the sound of the door swinging open cut me off. Moody came stalking in, his face contorted into a determined glare, and his cane thudding against the stone floor with every step he took. I felt Draco tense up.

"Never," he scowled, brushing past us on his way to his desk, "never, in all of my years of living, have I ever seen classmates turn on each other as you two did now."

His voice sounded dry and angry, something very strange from the tone he usually wore. In classes he was just his usual strange self, sometimes crossing the line of going mad, but this was pure disappointment dripping off of his tongue.

As the man slumped down into his chair, I felt Draco hitch a breath, squeezing my hand under the table nervously.

"And in the middle of a ball?" Moody continued, "you two should be ashamed."

I watched as he picked up a silver flask, twisting open the cap and downing a big gulp. His tongue flicked out like a snake, making me inch away uncomfortably.

"I'd think you'd have learned your lesson by now, Mr. Malfoy," he said, turning to the blonde beside me, "starting fights with other students again?"

Draco narrowed his eyes, "I didn't start the fight."

"It doesn't matter who started the fight, you should have known better than to continue it!"

"Wood should have known to keep his mouth shut."

"And I think that's a lesson you could do with as well," the man hissed, "use that tone with me again, and I'll turn you into something worse than a rodent, boy."

I...feel very uncomfortable right now.

There was a moment where Mood just stared at me, his fake eye twitching around like a fly, and his calloused finger tapping against his flask rhythmically. He was thinking of something. Observing something. Of what, I didn't know, but it made me tense up anxiously.

"And you, miss [l/n]?" Alastor frowned, "if I see you aim your wand at a student again, you'll be in detention for the rest of the school year, you hear me?"

Obviously, I heard him. I had ears.

"Yes, sir," I said, forcing out my words, "loud and clear."

"I don't know what started the fight, but I hope you've matured past it."

Draco mumbled something under his breath, "has Wood?"

I nudged him slightly to get him to stop talking. After Moody caught Seamus sticking gum under his desk, I knew the professor had senses better than the average wizard and could hear any snarky remark we made. But something was off about him...something strange.

"Now, it would be inappropriate for the two of you to return to the ball after this incident," the man said, clearing his throat, "so it'll be back to your common rooms."

I furrowed my brow, "that's it?"

I expected him to give us a scolding, or take house points away, but instead he seemed done with the conversation.

"Yes, that's it," Moody said, pointing at the door, "you may leave."

I glanced at Draco, before getting out of my chair with haste. This was pointless. Why did he drag us halfway across the school just to tell us to grow up, and then send us away not even five minutes later? Weird.

As I passed by the professor's desk, I gave him a nod, turning away.

But...I noticed something.

Wait.

No, that couldn't be.

Hm.

Draco followed swiftly behind me, his black suit coat hanging in the tuck of his arm as we walked through the stone doorway. His mood seemed to improve greatly as soon as we stepped out of the classroom, most likely because he was happy he didn't get reprimanded too harshly.

"What a drunkard," he smirked, "didn't even land me in detention."

Normally I would have nudged the boy out of calling people names, but instead I found myself incredibly distracted from my previous observation. Stepping briskly down the spiraling staircase, I narrowed my eyes.

Draco noticed.

"What?" He pressed, "why are you doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Sniffing your nose like a bloody basset hound."

I gave him a look, rolling my eyes in amusement. Did he try to compare me to an animal? Out of the two of us, only one had actually spent five minutes as a white, furry, ferret (spoiler alert: it wasn't me).

"Woof woof," I teased, holding up my hands like makeshift paws, "but in all seriousness, I smelled something in his flask."

Well, not in the flask, but I could smell it wafting off the man's breath like a hideous odor. Draco wrinkled his nose.

"Ew," he scoffed, "it's probably just rotten pumpkin juice."

"No, it's definitely not pumpkin juice."

"I didn't say it was pumpkin juice, I said it was rotten pumpkin juice."

"Thank you for that brilliant clarification," I chuckled, "but no, it smelled oddly familiar to say the least."

"I'm sure you'll think of it," the boy noted, clearing his throat, "but in the meantime..."

I turned my head to question his implicit remark, but the feeling of Draco grabbing my hand answered my suspicions. We hadn't even made it to the bottom of the corridor before I felt him lacing his fingers through mine, giving my palm a gentle squeeze.

"Are you holding my hand?" I smiled, tilting my head at him.

He smirked, "take a guess."

"Well, I'm guessing you forgot we're in a public hallway."

"And?"

"Anyone could walk through and see this."

"Well, let's take that chance," he mentioned deviously, "and even if someone does happen to pass, I'll just have to shape-shift myself into a mop and pretend I'm not even here."

"You're definitely going mental," I laughed, "and besides, shapeshifting isn't even possible without.......bloody hell."

Draco stopped walking, tugging me to a stop. "What is it?"

"What is what?"

"What you just realized."

"How do you know I realized something?"

"Because you always make that face whenever you do, and you also used bloody hell in a completely disconnected phrasing," the boy laughed, leaning to look me directly in the eyes, "now tell me what you realized."

I had to resist the urge to give him a fat kiss to wipe the smirk off of his face. He could read me so easily, and he knew that, which is why he was always so smug about it. Gosh, this boy will be the death of me.

"I figured it out," I announced, "I figured out what Moody was drinking."

That caught Draco off guard, "what?"

"I know what's in his flask."

"How could you possibly know what's in his flask?"

"Because I've made it before," I said, narrowing my eyes in complete pride, "it's a Polyjuice Potion."

Now, of course, I couldn't know it for sure until I got my hands on it, but I definitely was 99% sure I was right. Maybe 99.% sure (don't kill me for that pun, I saw the chance and I took it)!

Draco was completely unimpressed.

"What the hell is a Pollenjar Potion?" He scoffed, "I've done every singly mixture in the textbook, and I've never even heard of that."

"Because it's a potion that you can only make with a specific recipe."

"That's literally every potion, love, what are you going on about?"

"I mean to say, that it's a potion that's only recipe is in the restricted section!" I giggled, "I didn't expect you to know what a Polyjuice Potion was unless you've been snooping around the library."

Draco made a pouty face. He was the most efficient potion's maker in our entire class, so his inability to name a specific kind struck his ego a little too harshly.

"I need to figure out something," I said, spinning on my heels, "research must be done."

Draco groaned, trusting along stubbornly, "research on what?"

"Moody."

Well, not Moody, but other effects of the Polyjuice potion. I doubted that the professor would let me get a look at his flask, and if I ended up falsely accusing him to Dumbledore, then that would be disastrous. He'd know I was suspicious of him, then Mcgonagall's plans would be thwarted—although her reasons for this task were proving to be quite suited.

As I stormed off towards the library, I heard Draco whine again.

"Can't you research me instead?" He said smugly, "I could give you a lesson on Wizard anatomy."

I almost choked on my spit, "maybe later, but not right now."

Draco stopped, yanking his hand out of mine. He had an opened mouth gasp on his face, smiling so hard I could see crinkles in his eyes and his blonde hair falling over his forehead in excitement.

"Did you just say maybe later?" He gasped, "I have such a bad influence on you, love."

"Oh, piss off."

"Hey! Rude! What happened to being kind to your boyfriend?"

"I don't have time to be kind to you, I'm on the verge of solving this case."

"Well, instead of taking me to the library, you should take me on a date."

"We never go on dates, Draco."

"Well I want to go on one."

"Then let's call 'going to the library' a date," I suggested, spinning around, "I'm going to gather up some books, do some well needed research before curfew, and you're going to sit there and help me, okay?"

Draco blinked.

"Oh my god, what a wonderful date idea," he deadpanned, "you're so romantic, stop it."

"You're awfully emotional today."

"I mean, I did get beat up half-an-hour ago, and now my girlfriend wants to drag me off to the library instead of her room, so I am..." he said bluntly, "emotional."

"That's a first."

"And it will be the last, so please erase the memory of me saying I'm emotional from your brain."

"Scared of seeming vulnerable, hm?"

"No, scared of what kind of blackmail you'll save it for," he yawned, holding out his hand, "carry on, I suppose a library date will have to do."

"Well, what else would you rather do?"

"You."

I widened my eyes, completely disappointed in myself for walking straight into his trap so easily. I could see the amusement painted all over his face in permanent satisfaction.

"Azkaban, Malfoy," I frowned, "you're going to Azkaban for that."

"Azkaban?"

"Or jail."

"Does that mean you'll put me in handcuffs—"

"Nope, not another word out of you," I said quickly, cutting him off before he finished his sentence.

And with that, I grabbed his hand and pulled him off towards the library, ignoring the sassy comments muttered under his breath.

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