𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨

chapter twenty

Friday, October 2nd

"Today we will be using the three writing utensils I gave you last week for an assignment," Professor Sinistra exclaimed, pacing around the classroom, "Now, I know not all of us are artists in this classroom..."

He almost banged a fist on the table out of excitement.

"...But today you will be drawing any piece of your liking with one of these three utensils of your choice to turn in on Monday."

Draco bit his lip to stop a grin from spreading across his face.

He already knew he was going to use the mechanical pencil, as it seemed to be the biggest challenge, but he'd no idea what to draw.

Draco raised his hand, and Professor Sinistra strode to his desk.

"Yes, Mister Malfoy?"

He nervously tapped his pencil, "Will we be sharing these assignments?"

"Only with me," she exclaimed, "Not with the class. As I said, feel free to draw whatever you'd like."

He nodded, and began sketching the Hogwarts greenhouses.

When the bell rang he exited class alone, bag hoisted over his shoulder and parchment in hand.

"What's this, pureblood?" It was snatched out of his hand, the blur of a hufflepuff tie making him turn around in haste.

"What the fuck do you want from me?" Draco growled, reaching for the drawing, "Mind your fucking business before I kill you-"

The hufflepuff boy laughed, his friends watching on in amusement, "There's this blank spot in the window. What is it?"

Draco blushed, covering the pink on his cheeks with fury, "Give it back, I swear I'll gut you-"

The boy merely laughed. There was no denying Draco was strong, but he was far more scrawny than the heavy sixth year standing in front of him.

The urge to punch him across the face was growing, but Draco knew there were only so many more brawls he could enter without being expelled.

"Give it back-"

His heart tore through his chest as the sound of paper ripping soared through his ears, pieces of parchment fluttering to the floor.

"I poisoned someone once before, mudblood," Draco snarled, eyes black with anger, "Salazar knows I'll do it again."

He didn't bother to pick up the shredded paper scattered across the floor; his shoes scuffled over them and he went to his next class, where he would start his drawing from scratch.

Even so, the mere guilt of using that word again sloshed around in his stomach, as though he'd poisoned himself by saying it.

............

The lead had run out.

And other than his Professor who was currently busy, there was only one person he could ask. Only one person he liked, at least.

So he frustratedly knocked on her door after dinner.

She was in her nightdress when she opened the door, unable to get a word out of her mouth before he started talking.

"How in fucks name does this thing work?" He spat angrily, holding up the mechanical pencil.

"Draco, what is this for?" She asked, now standing in the doorway with him, brows furrowing at his aggressive tone over such a small matter.