&. dracmal
He doesn’t expect this from BLAISE. A precaution, as he had said. A precaution from WHAT? He wonders. But Draco has no choice but to watch absently as Blaise moves his immobile body and speaks so kindly to him. Surely, Blaise didn’t believe his excuse would get him off the hook…but as he feels life regain in his fingertips he sits up. His wand is the first thing he looks for, but it too was concealed by the night, tossed aside somewhere in the crevice’s of the astronomy tower. And there is Blaise standing between him & wherever his wand may be resting on the ground.
Draco only felt himself panicking more as his gaze flicks back up to Blaise. But being immobile had, at least for a short time, seized the excess sweat that had previously been beading at Draco’s forehead.
Somewhere deep down, Draco knows it’s out of CONCERN that Blaise does what he does. But he can’t justify it in the moment. He stays seated, scooting himself back into the shadows of the doorframe, where only his piercing grey eyes shown against the darkness.
“B l a i s e – ” He starts, all the signs of WARNING in his tone. There was little he could do in the moment without his wand, but he’d make sure the other knew he wouldn’t forgive being CURSED behind his back.
HE WONDERS HOW THE DARK LORD WOULD PUNISH SUCH BETRAYAL.
“– you’ve got a lot of n e r v e. && Not much consideration for your life…” He hisses, eyebrows darting up, gaze unwavering now. “…One would think…IF you believed such rumors about me…you’d heed a little more caution before hexing a DEATH EATER behind their back…”
Draco moved to stand, grabbing the doorknob to help keep himself steady since his body was still shaking. At least…the discourse between him and Blaise distracted his mind momentarily from the panic concerning the state of Katie Bell resting on his shoulders.
the abruptness of his choice to intervene, he knows, is the only reason he has managed it with such unobstructed success. with a gesture so deliberately careless, he glances to the side — almost as though he, too, is searching for the other’s wand littering the floor. even so, he keeps focus at the side of his eye, searching for any sudden gesture from the other that might prove somewhat problematic. attention recenters itself & resteadies upon his housemate. his wand taps against his thigh idly - his only telling sign of his possessing a ( similar ? ) restlessness that had commanded the other. similar — but not the same.
the percussion against his leg reminds him of the refrain of professor moody in their fourth year. ‘ CONSTANT VIGILANCE, ‘ he always growled, always frowned at careless behaviors of students. once he had seen blaise tapping against his thigh as he does now … & he had informed him in crass words that he once knew a wizard who almost blasted his testicles off doing the same thing. great.
moody had been an imposter — that was what they claimed. an escaped convict acting under the deranged instructions of you-know-who : a death eater.
just as draco had claimed to be.
rumor was — moody’s imposter had received the KISS. blaise had heard ghosts whispering about it in the halls. his fingers are tight around his wand — to follow the same path, to make those mistakes, & to choose such extreme positions seems impulsive, reckless, stupid to him. risk is an enemy to blaise zabini; it tastes bitter on his tongue.
“ —— don’t threaten me, draco. i’ve done nothing to threaten you. don’t let your temper get the best of you like usual. “ always, ALWAYS his voice is so amiable, teasing. although the sentence structures itself as a warning, he presents it with the intent of logic. after all, “ i’m no blood traitor. “
he’s not an ally either, but that does not need to be said. it’s common knowledge.
