SUMMARY: Unlike your famous boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, your personality was a refreshing change from the typical Slytherin arrogance. You often challenge Draco's aggressive behavior, amusing some and annoying others. But when Draco gets seriously injured in a brutal Quidditch match, a chilling protectiveness surfaced. Anyone who dared to cross him or speak ill of him faced the real reason you were sorted into Slytherin.
WARNINGS: Established relationship, slight angst, soft!Draco, steamy kissing, cursing, typical Harry Potter themes, Cedric Diggory is alive and well, quidditch injuries, hurt-comfort themes
A/N: Happy Valentine's Day!! My first Draco fic is dedicated to all my fellow single people spending Valentine's day alone!! I'm such a sucker for soft Draco! Hope you all enjoy! Beautiful dividers by @bernardsbendystraws <3
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The icy wind bit at your face as you pulled your scarf tighter around your neck, the frost clinging to your eyelashes. Yet, you couldn't help but grin as you marched into the Great Hall. You knew Daphne was probably already teasing you about it, but you didn't care. You were wearing Draco's Quidditch jumper, and it smelled faintly of wood, citrus, and his signature cologne that you loved dearly.
As you neared the Slytherin table, a sea of faces washed over you – stony expressions, bored glances, and the occasional whispered conversation. Then, you spotted him. Draco Malfoy, a beacon of platinum hair and shockingly vibrant emerald green jumper, stood out amongst the crowd. He seemed to be engaged in a heated discussion with Theo and Blaise, his brow furrowed in concentration, a grim set to his jaw.
The usual arrogance seemed to be replaced by a genuine intensity, making him appear even more captivating than usual. Enzo spotted you first. Letting out a dramatic sigh of relief that could be heard across the Great Hall, he pushed himself away from the table and speed-walked towards you. His usually carefree demeanor was replaced by a look of genuine distress.
Before you could even greet him with a smile, he had reached you, his hand firmly grasping your wrist. "Come on." He muttered, practically dragging you towards the end of the table. “Well good morning to you too, Enzo.” You retorted sarcastically matching his pace. You saw him look anxiously between you and your boyfriend, who, completely oblivious to your arrival, continued his animated conversation with Theo and Blaise, his voice rising in frustration.
"Please, for the love of Merlin, make him stop." He huffed motioning over to his cousin. "What's going on?" You questioned, brows furrowing in confusion. Enzo simply shrugged, a helpless expression gracing his features. "Ask him yourself." He scoffed, sinking back into his chair as if to avoid the impending storm. "Draco." You called out softly, your voice a gentle murmur in the otherwise boisterous Great Hall. He didn't even flinch.
"Love." You tried again, adding a saccharine sweetness to your voice that would have made even Honeydukes' most potent sweets blush. Finally, as if snapping out of a trance, his grey eyes met yours. They were stormy, a mixture of anger, frustration, and something else… something you couldn't quite place. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, the storm subsided. His entire tense demeanor immediately softened, the lines of anger disappearing from his face.
"Darling." He breathed out, his voice a low rumble, reaching for your manicured hand and pulling you closer, as if to convince himself you were real. He held your hand tightly, his fingers intertwining with yours, the warmth of his skin radiating through you. "Thank Salazar she's here." You heard Theo exasperate, his expression mirroring Enzo's. You ignored their commentary, solely focused on the boy in front of you. Now that you were closer, you could see the bags under his eyes, a stark contrast to his usual flawless complexion.
He looked exhausted, and that made your heart ache. "Did you get any sleep last night?" You asked him softly, reaching out to caress his cheekbone, your fingers tracing the lines of fatigue etched on his face. As if you were the only two people in the Great Hall, he nuzzled his face into your palm, a soft sigh escaping his lips. His eyes, usually so cold and calculating, now held a warmth that surprised you. They traced over your figure, lingering on his quidditch number and last name embroidered on your chest.
"You look absolutely breathtaking in my jumper." He purred, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. The compliment would have normally made your knees buckle, but you knew him well enough to know it was a tactic to get you distracted, a playful attempt to avoid confronting the emotions that were clearly swirling beneath the surface. "Draco," You chastised, squeezing his hand, a silent plea to get him to express what was on his mind. "Is this about the match later today?" You questioned, taking a wild guess as to why his attitude was all over the place.
As if on cue, his facial expressions said everything his words didn't convey. The grimace making a reappearance, twisting his features into a mask of pure fury. His eyes, now held a dangerous glint. "Fucking Cavendish." He spat venomously, the word tasting like bile in his mouth. Now it all made sense. Bryce Cavendish, Hufflepuff seeker, and as of now Draco's sworn enemy. Which said a lot, considering Harry Potter had always been at the very top of his list.
"He was up all night." Blaise mumbled, his eyes darting nervously towards Draco. "Reviewing plays for hours." Theo added with a scoff, his voice barely a whisper. If looks could kill, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott would both be six-feet under with the way Draco was looking at them. His gaze, icy and lethal, sent a shiver down their spines. "Draco," You coaxed, taking a seat next to him, hoping to somehow diffuse his anger. You placed a gentle hand on his arm, his muscles tensing beneath your touch.
"We've talked about this. You can't let him get to you." He sighed, running a hand down his face in frustration, the lines of anger deepening on his forehead. "I know, darling," He admitted, his voice rough with suppressed fury. "But the bastard knows how to get inside my bloody head." Looking up at the three boys in front of you, judging by their expressions you knew Draco was already way over his head about this match in particular. "You're the best seeker in all of Hogwarts," You praised, smoothing out the crease in his perfectly pressed tie.
"He's just jealous." You added with a reassuring smile, punctuating your words with a sweet kiss to his cheek. He closed his eyes momentarily, leaning into your touch, the tension visibly draining from his shoulders. A contented sigh escaped his lips, a low rumble that vibrated against your ear. "Thank you, darling," He muttered so softly under his breath, if you hadn't been close you were sure you wouldn't have heard him. "I'm sure I'll get over it before the match." He reassured, his gaze, though still a little guarded, held a warmth that melted away the last remainder of his earlier anger.
Yet before you could even continue to ask him what was actually bothering him, he threw an arm over your shoulders and pulled you closer, his hand resting possessively on your waist. Luckily for him, Pansy arrived at the table, her voice a shrill counterpoint to the hushed murmurs of the Great Hall. "Y/N, you will not believe who I just saw…" She began, her voice a whirlwind of gossip and exaggerated pronouncements. Her arrival pulled your attention away from your boyfriend and the lingering tension that still clung to him, replaced by a forced smile and a polite inquiry into Pansy's latest conquest.
Draco, in fact, did not get over it. All throughout your shared Potions class, you'd catch him zoning off, his gaze flitting around the room. He would absentmindedly tap his foot against the stone floor, a nervous habit you hadn't noticed before. Unfortunately for him, you weren't the only one who seemed to notice his off-putting behavior. Snape, his eyes narrowed to slits like a venomous snake, watched Draco with disdain. You could only guess what was going through his mind as he calculated his best students every move.
Thankfully, you were able to turn Draco's attention back to the task at hand before Snape could intervene. You gently nudged his elbow with yours, a silent message that you were there for him. He looked up, startled, his eyes meeting yours. A flicker of gratitude passed, before he quickly returned his attention to the bubbling potion in his cauldron, trying to focus on the task at hand. You knew the last thing Draco needed was to get reprimanded before his big match. He was already battling enough inner demons without Snape adding to his inner turmoil.
After class was over, you barely had time to blink before Draco was jumping out of his seat, pressing a kiss to your cheek before rushing out of the classroom, presumably towards the Quidditch pitch. As you gathered the rest of your belongings, your eyes connected with Hermione Granger's who seemed to share your expression of concern. After all, Draco's personality was known to be strong and passionate in a classroom setting, but his competitive spirit, when ignited, could be truly terrifying.
You gave her a reassuring smile, trying to project an air of confidence you didn't entirely feel, before making way out of the classroom yourself. Holding your books tightly to your chest, you made a beeline for Draco's dormitory, the stone walls of the castle looming large around you. You needed to see him before the match, to make sure he was alright. Reaching his room, you quickly dropped off your books and grabbed yours his favorite scarf, wrapping it securely around your neck, knowing it would be bitterly cold on those stands.
As you walked towards the Quidditch pitch, the vibrant green of the field a stark contrast against the grey stone of the castle, the nauseating pit of anxiety grew in your stomach. It was like a physical manifestation of your fear, twisting and churning within you. Although Draco had played against Hufflepuff before, these matches had always been a mere formality. But ever since Bryce Cavendish had joined the Hufflepuff team, something had shifted. Draco, usually so confident and arrogant, had become strangely subdued, preoccupied with thoughts that seemed to weigh heavily on his mind.
Anytime you'd even try to bring up the subject, Draco would resort to his usual tactics to shift the conversation away from what was truly bothering him. Thankfully, Enzo was able to sneak you past Madame Hooch, her attention momentarily diverted by a particularly boisterous group of Hufflepuffs. You knew he needed a little positive reassurance before the match, if not you were certain the boys would all get their heads chewed off by the time the first bludger flew.
As you neared the entryway of the boy's changing rooms, you spotted Enzo, Blaise, and Theo leaning against the wall, their faces a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. "How's he doing?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper, your eyes searching the room for any sign of Draco. "Hasn't lost his quip and sarcasm that's for sure," Blaise replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "He's been giving poor Theo a hard time about his choice of socks." You let out a small laugh, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. "That’s good." You whispered, a genuine smile finally gracing your lips.
Theo, ever the observant one, noticed the shift in your demeanor. "He'll be fine, Dolcezza. He's a Malfoy. He thrives on competition." You nodded, though the lingering anxiety still clung to you. "I know," You murmured, "But… I just worry." You admitted. "We all do." He breathed out, his usual nonchalance replaced by a rare display of vulnerability. "He's our friend, after all." Just as you were about to respond, the doors to the changing rooms opened and out walked the rest of the Slytherin quidditch boys, all except Draco.
"He kicked everyone out," Adrian Pucey explained, his voice subdued. "Said he needed a moment alone." That was your cue. With a surge of adrenaline, you pushed past the remaining boys, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. With a final deep breath, you pushed open the door to the changing room, your heart pounding in your chest. If there was one thing that never failed to make you swoon, it was Draco in his Quidditch gear. The emerald green of the Slytherin robes seemed to deepen the grey hue of his eyes, making them sparkle with an almost predatory like intensity.
His usually pale skin was flushed with a healthy color, and his normally perfectly styled hair was slightly disheveled, giving him a rugged, almost dangerous charm. He looked every inch the confident, arrogant Slytherin, but beneath the bravado, you knew there was a vulnerability, a fierce protectiveness that only you were privileged to witness. "Shouldn't you be outside along with everyone else?" You questioned watching as his body tensed momentarily upon hearing your voice. He hadn't expected you. You could see it in the way his eyes widened slightly, the way his jaw clenched. "You shouldn't be here." He muttered, a frown creasing his forehead.
"Enzo let me in." You explained, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Besides," You added, walking towards him, "Who's going to keep you motivated and wish you good luck before your match?" He grinned, the tension that had been plaguing him earlier visibly melting away, replaced by a warmth that spread across his features. He reached out, his hand brushing against your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin. "You," He whispered, his voice husky, a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "Always you." He leaned in, his eyes searching yours, a mixture of longing and possessiveness burning within them.
You closed your eyes, tilting your head up, meeting his lips with a fervor that mirrored his own. His kiss was demanding, passionate, a whirlwind of emotions that swept you off your feet. The world around you faded away, leaving only the intensity of his touch, the taste of mint and something faintly metallic, the scent of his cologne mixing with the earthy aroma of the changing room. Your fingers tangled in his hair, your hands tracing the contours of his face, memorizing every curve, every imperfection.
He groaned softly against your lips, pulling you closer, his body pressed against yours. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, the strength of his arms around you, a comforting anchor in the whirlwind of emotions. Time seemed to cease to exist, replaced by the intoxicating rhythm of his kisses, the intoxicating scent of him. Finally, he pulled back, his eyes searching yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “There’s plenty more of where that came from, after you win.” Upon hearing the implication in your words, a mischievous glint returned to his eyes.
You smiled, your heart pounding against your ribs. "Now go out there and show them what you're made of. Go kick some Hufflepuff arse!" He grinned, his eyes sparkling with a newfound confidence. "For you." He murmured, pressing a final, lingering kiss to your lips before turning and striding towards the field, his Quidditch robes swirling around him. You watched him go, your heart overflowing with pride and a fierce protectiveness of your own. Sneaking out, before Madame Hooch could scold you, you made your way towards the stands.
Your chest burned with pride among seeing fellow Slytherin’s decked out in house pride, eagerly awaiting the match to start. "Where were you?" Pansy pulled you into her side, eager to shield herself from the cold. "You were gone forever!" Astoria, who was beside you, smirked. "Oh Pans," She drawled, reaching over to poke your rosy cheek. "Just look at her." She pointed to your blushing complexion, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I bet you ten galleons that Malfoy and her were snogging." She snickered. "Shut up!" You exclaimed, though a blush crept up your neck despite your denial. You knew Astoria was right, of course. But you weren't about to admit it.
Thankfully, the roar of the crowd as the Slytherin and Hufflepuff Quidditch teams took to the field was able to distract both girls from questioning you further. Draco, resplendent in emerald green, looked every bit the confident Seeker, a glint of determination in his eyes. You watched him from the stands, your heart pounding in your chest. He caught your gaze and gave you a small, encouraging smile, the tension that had plagued him earlier completely gone. At the sound of Madame Hooch’s whistle the match began with a flurry of activity. Bludgers whizzed through the air, narrowly missing players.
Chasers weaved and dodged, their expressions grim as they battled for possession of the Quaffle. Draco, however, remained calm and collected, his eyes scanning the field, ever vigilant for the elusive Golden Snitch. The first few minutes of the game were a fierce battle for dominance. Neither team seemed to have a clear advantage. Then, in a spectacular move, Draco, with a sudden burst of speed, intercepted a Hufflepuff pass, soaring through the air with a grace that took your breath away. The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices a thunderous roar that echoed through the stadium.
However, the joy was short-lived. Bryce Cavendish, a look of pure hatred etched on his face, veered sharply towards Draco, his broom dangerously close to colliding with the blonde's. Draco, agile and experienced, managed to avoid the collision, but the near miss seemed to have rattled him. He shook his head, trying to regain his focus, but it was clear that Cavendish had gotten to him. “You can do it, Draco!” You shouted hoping he could hear you over the crowd. Your eyes met Cavendish’s, the smirk on his lips making your fists and jaw clench. Bloody bastard.
The match continued, a tense and hard-fought battle. Draco, despite his initial setback, played with a fierce determination, his every move calculated and precise. He made several impressive catches, weaving through the Hufflepuff defense with a skill that drew gasps from the crowd. But then, disaster struck. As Draco soared through the air, his eyes fixed on the elusive Snitch, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over him. He felt disoriented, his grip on his broom loosening. You watched in horror as he tried to regain control, but it was too late.
The crowd gasped as Draco plummeted towards the ground. He landed with a sickening thud, his body crumpling against the grass. A hush fell over the stadium, broken only by your panicked cries. You felt your blood run cold. You pushed your way through the crowd, your heart pounding in your chest. As you reached Draco's side, the sight that greeted you stole the air from your lungs. He lay motionless on the ground, his face pale and drawn, a thin trickle of blood snaking from the corner of his mouth. His left arm was bent at an unnatural angle, the bone clearly visible protruding through a tear in his robes.
His eyes were closed, his usually arrogant features slack and vulnerable. Madam Hooch was already at his side, her face etched with deep concern, her wand glowing with a soft, diagnostic light. She was muttering under her breath, her brow furrowed in concentration. She looked up at you, her eyes filled with a grim understanding. “He’s sustained a number of injuries, a broken arm. He’s also… he’s hit his head quite hard.” She gestured towards a small but rapidly swelling lump on Draco’s temple, half-hidden by his pale blonde hair. “We need to get him to the infirmary immediately.”
You knelt beside Draco, your hand trembling as you reached out to touch his face. His skin was cold and clammy. “Draco?” You whispered, your voice barely audible. There was no response. Panic clawed at your throat, making it difficult to breathe. “Draco, please.” You begged, tears stinging your eyes. You pressed your fingers against his wrist, searching frantically for a pulse. It was faint, thready, almost imperceptible. Madam Hooch placed a hand on your shoulder, her grip firm but gentle. “He’s unconscious. We need to move him carefully. I’ll summon a stretcher.” She raised her wand again, this time a burst of red sparks shot into the air, signaling for assistance.
Within moments, two medi-wizards arrived, pushing their way through the throng of onlookers. They knelt beside Draco, their faces professional and detached, a stark contrast to the fear and concern etched on the faces of the students surrounding them. They quickly assessed Draco’s injuries, their movements precise and efficient. You watched as they placed him carefully onto a floating stretcher, securing him with enchanted restraints. As they lifted the stretcher, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from Draco’s still form. You followed the medi-wizards as they floated the stretcher through the crowd, your heart a lead weight in your chest.
The whispers of the onlookers followed you, hushed and anxious. You ignored them all. All you could focus on was Draco. That was until out of your peripheral you spotted the man who did this to him. Bryce Cavendish, his face flushed with an adrenaline-fueled high, was grinning triumphantly at the crowd. The cocky smile he was hiding behind his fist made your blood boil. You surged forward, rage blinding you. "You bloody bastard!" Before you could strike, Cedric Diggory, had his hands around your waist, pulling you away from Bryce. "As much as I would love to see you put him in his place, I have a feeling Malfoy needs you right now."
Cedric's words brought you back to reality. You couldn't afford to be distracted by your anger, not when Draco needed you. "Okay," You surrendered pulling yourself out of Cedric's hold. You were never one for conflict, but the way he was smirking cockily, knowing he had succeeded in hurting Draco, made your anger resurface. Before you could even think about it, you were already in front of him, your right arm pulled back, striking him across the face before he could even react. As you heard a sickening crack, when your knuckles met his nose, you felt an unexpected surge of satisfaction. You had never punched anyone in your life, but the feeling of adrenaline coursing through your veins was exhilarating.
"Consider yourself lucky it wasn't an unforgivable curse," You hissed, your voice dripping with venom, "I won't be as nice if there's ever a next time." He stared at you, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief as he clutched his now broken nose in pain. "Oi, Diggory!" He hissed, his voice a mixture of pain and indignation. "Aren't you going to do something?" Cedric, who had been watching the exchange, simply shrugged. "I didn't see anything," He replied casually, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Turing towards you, he gave you a reassuring smile, motioning towards the hospital wing. “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with him, you have my word.” You didn't need to be told twice.
You were sure your fingers were on the verge of bleeding with how much you were picking at them, the raw skin a testament to your anxiety. But that was the least of your problems considering the love of your life was laying motionless in front of you. The crisp, sterile scent of the Medical Wing filled your nostrils, a constant, unwelcome reminder of the gravity of the situation. The only thing keeping you sane was the steady rise and fall of his chest against the sheets.
You were sure the only reason as to why Madam Pomfrey had let you stay overnight was due to how distraught you looked. Your face, pale and tear-stained, was probably a picture of despair. You'd practically begged her, your voice a desperate croak, to let you stay by his side. The thought of leaving him alone, even for a moment, was unbearable. Your grip on his hand did not falter, no matter how uncomfortable the chair was on your back. The hard, unforgiving wood dug into your spine, but you didn't care.
You weren't leaving his side until those grey eyes you loved so much were staring back at you. Each shallow breath he took, each labored rise and fall of his chest, was a precious lifeline, a fragile thread connecting you to the boy who was everything to you. Time seemed to crawl, each agonizing second stretching into an eternity. "I knew I'd find you in here." Theodore Nott's voice interrupted your thoughts, but your eyes stayed glued to Draco. You barely registered his presence, your mind consumed by the fear that gnawed at your insides.
"Dolcezza," He coaxed, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him, your eyes red-rimmed and swollen, and managed a weak smile. "He hasn't moved all night, Theo. I'm so fucking worried." Hearing the pain in your voice, the raw, unfiltered fear that laced every word, was all it took for Theo to pull you into an embrace. "He's a stubborn bastard, he'll be alright." He held you close, his own body trembling slightly, as if mirroring your own. “While I admire the sentiment, I’d appreciate if got your hands off my girl, Nott.” Draco’s voice, raspy with sleep, cut through the hushed silence of the hospital wing.
You pulled back from Theo, your eyes widening in surprise. Draco was sitting up in bed, his face pale, bruises darkening on his temple, but his eyes sparkling with amusement nonetheless. "Draco!" You breathed out, immediately separating yourself from the brunette boy and carefully climbing into the open arm of your boyfriend. Despite your attempts to be mindful of his bruises and broken arm, he pulled you closer. "I'll go tell the other's you're awake," Theo interrupted giving you and Draco a smile. "I'm glad you're okay, you twit." In response Draco merely waved him off, giving you his undivided attention.
You pulled back slightly, your eyes searching his face for any sign of lingering pain. "How do you feel?" You asked, your voice soft with concern. He shrugged, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, "Sore," He admitted, "But otherwise, I feel surprisingly well." You nodded, feeling the tightness in your throat return as tears gathered at the corners of your eyes. "Don't ever do that to me again." You whispered, shaking your head. "Darling," He coaxed, raising his hand to wipe the tears from your eyes, his thumb gently tracing the path they had left behind. "Don't cry," He murmured, his voice filled with concern. "You know I hate it when you cry."
"You scared me, so much." You whispered, burying your face in his chest, clinging to him as if he might disappear again. He held you close, his arms wrapping around you like a protective shield, his heart beating a steady rhythm against your ear. Proof that he was okay, and alive. "I'm sorry, love," He murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You both laid there for what seemed an eternity, the silence broken only by the soft rhythmic thumping of his heart and the distant murmur of conversation from the hallway.
Draco couldn't seem to let you get you closer to him, even when you both were practically intertwined. You smiled as he pressed a kiss to both your temples, cheeks, purposely skipping your lips as he grabbed your hand and brought it to his face. "Why are your knuckles red?" He questioned, concern etched on his face. “Well,” A small smile made its way onto your face as you recalled what you did. "I might have punched the daylights out of Cavendish." You muttered nonchalantly. Draco's eyes widened in surprise. "You what?" He questioned, wondering if he had her you correctly or if it was the concussion talking.
"He used a Confundus Charm on you," You explained, shrugging your shoulders as if it were no big deal. "And I wasn't going to let it slide." Draco stared at you, a mixture of amusement and disbelief on his face. He burst out laughing, his laughter echoing through the quiet room. "You," He managed to get out between laughs. "You actually punched him." You couldn't help but laugh with him. It felt good, exhilarating even. You had never punched anyone before, but standing up for Draco, protecting him, it felt… right. You looked up to find him already looking at you with nothing but pure adoration.
"Merlin, I love you so fucking much." Before you could react and reciprocate his words, he had grasped the sides of your face before pulling you into an unexpected kiss. This kiss, unlike the one you two shared on the pitch, was different. It was raw, vulnerable. It held so much love and so much fear all at once. It was as if the world around you had faded away, leaving just the two of you in that moment. The intensity of emotions was overwhelming, a silent conversation of hearts beating in sync. Every touch, every breath, every lingering second felt like a promise, a confession, and a plea all rolled into one.
"That's my girl," He praised as you separated for air yet he remained close. Nose to nose. Chest to chest. “My brave and badass girl, I can’t believe you punched someone for little old me.” You couldn’t help but blush at his words, no matter how many times you had heard him say them before. "I love you too," You echoed giving him a chaste kiss despite his intentions to deepen it. "Consider yourself very lucky to have someone like me, Malfoy." You smirked playfully pushing his platinum locks away from his eyes. The ones that were currently looking at you as if you hung the stars. "Always do, darling." He admitted, pulling you into another kiss which stifled your giggle. Lucky indeed.
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cw . mean!draco, fingering, cum denial, mention of rough sex at the end, manipulative!draco methinks
a/n . em dashes are not ai i just value grammar and i love em dashes. not proofread, wrote this w my glasses off my apologies.
draco always knew how to apologize, even if he was a cruel man. he knew how to make you melt, how to make you give in, how to make you submit. it wasn’t rough or forceful, but it was effective.
his pitiful eyes watched as your chest rose and fall, hips grinding against his hand. his lips trailed up your skin, wet and slow kisses leaving goosebumps on your arms. his fingers drew in and out slowly, curling every time he hit just deep enough to make you squirm.
“i’ve been so mean to you, sweetheart.” he’d pout, his tongue tracing around your areola. “everything’s just so hard lately.”
all you could do in response was whine and nod. his fingers dragged in and out of your gummy walls deliciously, slick gathering where his middle and ring finger met. he kissed back down your body, biting at the plush of your thighs to remind you who’s you were. he coos at the sound of you whining, begging for more.
“my angel,” he’d whisper, his grey eyes admiring your every move. “you’re so beautiful like this.”
he draws his fingers back slowly, then pushes back in, curling against your sweet spot. you arch and moan, your hand digging in his hair. it was quiet for a beat, save for your small whines and the dirty squelching of your pussy.
“i’ve been the worst to my girl, haven’t i?” he sighs, shaking his head. he seemed almost disappointed in himself.
he could be so mean and ignorant. when he’d get stressed, he’d brush you off with a wave of his hand and a “get lost.” he regretted his attitude once he saw how you’d pout and draw away as you accepted defeat. he couldn’t help feeling bad, even more so when he’d spread you open as an apology.
his fingers quickened, and you gasped, fingers curling into his blonde hair. you clenched, thighs beginning to tremble around his wrist.
“is that it, darling? is that the spot?” he’d ask, but he already knew. you two had done this dance too many times for him not to.
his hand held your hips down as you squirmed, lip stuck between your teeth. your hand fell to his shoulder, digging your fingers into the fabric of his button-up.
“draco— ‘m so close!” you’d whine, feeling the knot in your stomach grow tighter. he cooed, pressing his lips against your stomach.
he couldn’t just let you cum, where’s the apology in that? no, he had to drag it out of you.
“yeah? you forgive me then?” he’d ask, watching your fucked out expression. “you won’t be mad at me anymore?”
you whined, shaking your head. you knew better than to say no to him, but he’d done this far too many times. you couldn’t give in purely because you wanted to cum. his fingers pulled out, and you gasped at the loss of contact. you sat up and pouted, hands falling to his wrist. he almost felt bad not giving to release— he’d already been mean enough— but that wasn’t the answer he was looking for.
“i’m sorry angel, only girls who forgive their boyfriends get to cum.” he shakes his head, licking his fingers and sitting up.
you pouted in protest. “that’s not fair, draco! you were being mean earlier!”
he shushes you with a kiss to your lips, making you taste yourself. “i tried to be nice, but you lost that chance, sweetheart.”
his hands landed on his belt, unbuckling it and tugging his trousers down his pants. if he couldn’t coax forgiveness out of you, he was going to fuck it out of you.
summary; draco loves you, and you love him. he just needs a little push to make things official. OR, draco malfoy fighting for his life when he realises just how much everyone wants his girl.
word count; 8928
notes; this is based on christmas eve, but I'm posted a couple days later! this fic puts us half way through our slytherin boy holidays! I'm not sure how the one I expected to be the shortest became the longest one so far. like, seriously, I know I keep saying this but wtf? why can't I write a short fic?
Dinner had already been served by the time you made it to the Grand Hall, the smells of roasted meats and seasoned potatoes filling the air, your mouth watering as you navigated between the throngs of people. Your seat had been saved, of course. A spot on the bench between Draco and Daphne, and as you neared, your friends noticed, smiles rising and waves in your direction.
Sinking into your seat, you pressed a kiss to the cheek of the blond boy beside you, his face tipping up to receive it and lips twisting into a smile, attention moving to you as you sat.
“Good day?”
“Better now that it’s over.” You smiled, a chuckle falling from him, and his hand came to rest upon your thigh, squeezing comfortingly while you helped yourself to a plate of whatever food was left. “What are we talking about, what did I miss?”
“Not much. Just Theo telling us all about Christmas in Italy.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, as though you all hadn't heard this exact same speech since that very first Christmas you’d become friends. Most of the group seemed to have simply tuned it out, laughing and nodding at the correct times as they whispered their own conversations.
A swipe of a thumb over your thigh as you finished filling your plate with food, and you shifted your attention to Draco. “So, what are your Christmas plans, Dray?”
Shuffling a little bit closer now that your plate was full, his arm moved to lay across your shoulders instead, letting you snuggle up into his side. “Oh, you know, the usual.”
He smiled, and your world seemed to get a little bit brighter, his lips brushing your hairline as he left a barely-present kiss there.
“Typical Malfoy-family Christmas. I get to do the tour with my parents, visiting every other rich-arsehole couple they know. Christmas Eve party. The pleasure of my father’s annual ‘you’re growing up now, son, it’s time to get serious about the world’ over the dinner table on Christmas Day. Open some presents I don’t want, on a schedule I don’t like.” He sighed, clearly used to it by now, but it didn’t make it sound any less awful.
“Well,” You smile, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Maybe we could write to one another, or even get a little visit in?”
The hope in your voice was evident, and Pansy gave you an encouraging smile across the table. You’d been meaning to ask Draco this question for weeks now, and your last chance had been fast approaching. Since the summer, you and Draco had been hooking up. It was no secret among your friends, or even the students; your affections for one another were hardly contained, but it wasn't official.
You wanted the labels, the security, and the safety of knowing that he was yours and you were his, and nobody else could come between you. You wanted to be introduced to his parents, be his date at events, to have him be proud to call you his girl. But Draco had been hesitant, avoiding every conversation that might inch into the ‘so, what are we?’ territory, keeping a safe distance from any kind of real commitment.
It wasn’t enough for you anymore, not by a long shot, but trying to talk to Draco about it only ended up with him shutting it down, or skilfully diverting the conversation and you were growing tired of his games.
Draco only made a vague noise, neither an agreement nor disagreement, and looked away from you as he picked up his drink to take a sip. “I don’t know… maybe. I can get pretty busy over the holidays, I’d hate to let you down.”
Another skill of his, making it seem like cancelling or delaying or not doing something at all was your idea. He was clearly hoping you’d brush it off, and tell him not to worry about it, but instead, you kept quiet. Not giving him the satisfaction of any easy win, this time.
Pansy caught your eye across the table, shaking her head disapprovingly, and shooting a glare at an oblivious Draco. She had been your confidant these last few months, every update and development in your situationship, she’d been informed of. Every decision, she’d been a part of. She was practically as invested as you were, at this point, and she certainly did not approve of his nonchalant behaviour either.
“Speaking of parties,” Mattheo cut Theo off, clearly having had enough of the annual rehashing of ‘that one Christmas when Theo was eight’ for today, and changing the subject, “Who’s got their dates sorted for the Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball, and who’s daring to go solo and have Narcissa set them up like a matchmaker all night long?”
Chuckles rang out among the group, and Pansy smiled, leaning into Blaise’s side with a love-struck grin. “I think we’re safe this year.”
“I’m going solo, but, I did tell Aunty Cissa that I have my eye on a girl in one of my classes, and I’m seeing how it plays out. So, she’s not setting me up anytime soon, since she believes I’m already onto someone.” Enzo smirked, and Blaise congratulated him for his clever tactics.
You smirked through your mouthful of food, listening to Mattheo explain his complex excuse, to Reggie mournfully spill the story of how he’s already been set up by his parents witha ‘potential bride to meet’, and how he hopes she doesn’t show up. You laugh with the others as Tom simply raises an eyebrow, knowing that even Narcissa doesn’t attempt to set him up anymore, lest he scare away any more of her friends’ daughters. Theo, ever the player he is, is looking forward to dancing with every single lady he can find, and taking his pick at the end of the night.
“I suppose nobody needs to ask Draco who his date will be.” Mattheo grins, wiggling his brows at the pair of you as you smile, leaning a little further into the man at your side.
“Hey, who knows?” He chortles, and your eyes narrow a little, “I’ve had plenty of offers. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
“Oooh.” Enzo’s eyes went wide, the other boys joining in, and Pansy fixed him with a glare. Daphne leaned around you with her jaw dropped at his statement, and you sat up from his embrace, lips pressed flat and a brow raised.
The boys snickered, ‘he’s in shit’ and ‘someone’s in the doghouse’, but he lived for the spotlight, a drama queen at heart, and he smirked down at you.
“Oh, c’mon. Don’t look at me like that, babe.” The playful nickname was one he only ever used when joking around. When he was sincere, he was much more romantic; darling, sweetheart, beautiful. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hi mum, hello father, meet the girl I’m skipping class to shag! Thanks for paying my tuition!’, I don’t think so.”
The boys all laughed, Daphne scoffed in sync with her sister behind you, and Pansy looked like she’d lunge across the table at any moment, if it wasn’t for her chastising Blaise for laughing, instead. ‘You and Draco can share that couch you’ll both be sleeping on tonight’, she’d said. ‘See how funny you think it is then’.
The words stung as he spoke them, dismantling your relationship down to the bare minimum; to sex and physical connection and nothing else. Like the nights spent talking until the sun came up were nothing, the times you’d held him while he cried, or washed him in the bath when he was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. Like he didn’t rub your stomach for hours every month when you got cramps, or had a stash of your favourite snacks in his bedside table for whenever you came over.
You knew that Draco Malfoy lived you, just as much as you loved him. It was evident in everything he did, every kiss and every word. But, he needed a little push.
“I suppose you’re right,” You sigh lightly, giggling along with the laughing boys around the table. “I’m not so sure Lucius wouldn't burst a blood vessel then and there.”
“Exactly.” Draco hummed, and you glanced back to Pansy. She was shocked, only for a second, before taking in the subtle signs of mischief on your face. Her own smirk stretched out in return, and her gaze flickered once to Draco, before back to you.
A new game was afoot, and Draco wasn’t going to stand a chance.
Slipping your coat from your shoulders, the annual Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball was well underway. Your parents had disappeared into the crowds before you’d even stepped out of the carriage, uncaring of where you were as long as you weren’t causing trouble. They were here to mingle with the other importants, and you were just here to learn the ropes of proper socialising.
The garment was taken from you, your small bag clutched in hand as a ticket was given to you for it, and you brushed down the front of your dress delicately. Pearls moved under your touch, beading along the bodice flat and perfected, and you felt your confidence rise as you looked at yourself once more in the reflection of a dark window. Adjusting the small lace gloves on each hand, you took a step towards the dining room.
Elegant music was playing from a live band up on a stage, the room was decorated this year to look like a winter escape. Pale and frosty, like a palace of ice, twinkling lights and glittering decor, crisp white tablecloths and ice sculptures. A layer of goosebumps travelled along your skin at the sight of it all, despite the warming charms that took place for the guests.
Scanning the room, you quickly found your table. The designated kids table, despite you all being legal adults and far beyond such status. You’d all be the babies of the ball until the new generation emerged, no doubt. Moving through the bodies and crowds of people politely, Theo was the first to glance up and spot you, his mouth falling open, and a rush of confidence took over as he raised two fingers to his lips and whistled.
The sound caught the attention of the others’ chatter fading to quiet as they all turned to look for the object of his cat-calling, Enzo’s eyes widened, Pansy cheered loudly, and even Mattheo looked momentarily speechless. You’d had the same reaction when you’d seen yourself in the dress too, your stylist had truly outdone herself for this one.
You looked flawless, and you looked expensive, and utterly elegant. Doing a little spin as you approached, a smile broke free on your lips as you stopped before the chair with your name card before it.
“Merlin, babe,” Pansy started, drawing your attention straight her her, “You’ve got every eye on you tonight. If I was single, I’d be all over you.”
She winked when you laughed, and Blaise rolled his eyes but smiled, leaning in to kiss her cheek affectionately.
“Pretty necklace,” She commented, and your fingers rose to the pretty string of pearls and diamonds that you had.
“It was a gift,” You simply hummed, tugging at your gloves. Glancing at the others, you gave each a polite smile, eyes lingering on Draco as he stared. In any other style, this dress would be scandalous for an event like this. A low neckline, spaghetti straps, no sleeves. Tight and fitted to every curve of your body, and yet the classic designs and vintage nature elevated it to the kind of class Audrey Hepburn would be proud of.
He looked just as good, a dark suit, a fresh white shirt, a champagne-coloured tie that made the colour of his eyes and his hair stand out and your mouth dried out a little. Silver rings adorned his fingers, the Malfoy signet standing out, clenched so tightly around his whiskey glass that his knuckles were almost white.
You’d worn soft, golden makeup effects today, a dusting of glitter along your cheekbones and eyelids, a shade of pink on your cheeks and lips that you knew was his weakness.
“Someone really wanted your attention with that, huh?” Your best friend teased, and your eyes snapped away from Draco, back to her.
“I suppose so,” You muse, hand coming up to touch one of the beads on your ear, “Since they also got me this lovely pair of matching earrings.”
Pansy made a dramatic show of admiring them, and Blaise gave a funny look, glancing at the jewellery, and then back at Draco, who was frowning. Before you could reach for your chair after placing your clutch down, Enzo was shooting to his feet from beside you, tugging out the chair for you.
Draco scoffed as you gave him a thank you, settling into your seat, and he glared at the man beside you. Enzo didn’t flinch, however, smirking at Draco as he spoke;
“What? It’s called being a gentleman, cousin.”
Crossing your leg delicately, you’d hardly even removed your gloves, before a tray was coming down by your side, and a young waiter with a dazzling smile was looking right at you.
“Champagne, ma’am?” Not a planned pawn in your game, but a welcome addition, you smiled sweetly in return.
“Oh, I’d love some. Thank you.” Taking the single glass by the stem, you lifted it from the tray and the man’s smile stretched wider as you sipped the bubbly, holding his eye.
“Of course, miss. If you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be at the bar, happy to serve.” His flirting was heavy enough that normally you’d want to roll your eyes, but tonight, you suppressed that urge, playing into it as you bat your lashes.
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Thank you.”
He took the dismissal, staring appreciatively as he walked away, another look over his shoulder to you as you watched him go.
“Stop eye-fucking the help.” Draco snapped, and your focus moved to him slowly, just to find his icy glare on you. He didn’t scare you, though, all that mean bravado, but you knew what was underneath.
“I was doing no such thing.” You tut, placing down your drink. “Don’t be jealous, Dray. You look even better in that suit. If you want compliments, just ask. No need to be mean.”
He seemed rather placated by this, his ego settling down, even if the others did laugh at him.
The conversation seemed to continue around you as you settled in, avoiding Draco’s heated stare and sipping at your champagne. The rush of warming alcohol through your veins settled every dancing nerve, and gave you the calm confidence to do what you had planned. Sitting forwards, just enough, you angled your body so that Draco might have the perfect view over your cleavage as you feigned interest in the chatter around you.
He took the bait, his gaze falling right where you wanted it, the gems of your necklace dangling just over the swell of your breasts, and he licked his lower lip, pulling it between his teeth.
Raising your hands and catching the swinging gem, you toyed with it carefully, letting it run over your fingers. Time melted away as Draco’s gaze flicked between your nimble touch, your lips, and your chest, shuffling in his seat every so often, and gulping at the bubbly in his glass.
He was on his third refill by the time food started to be taken around, and you took pity on him momentarily, sitting back in your chair and angling away from him, ready to receive your first course.
As the starters came around, you turned to thank your waiter, surprised to see it was the same man from the bar who had brought you your champagne. You’d given him little thought since he’d walked away, and you’d never spotted him again, but perhaps that was exactly why he was delivering your food now, as he beamed at you and set down the plate.
Men did love a little attention, after all.
Reaching for the bottle of champagne cooling in the centre of the table, the waiter never looked away from you as he refilled your glass without being asked. Draco finally seemed to notice as he finished adjusting his napkin, gaze narrowing on the man serving you. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” He muttered.
You pretended to take no notice, smiling at the man and waving your fingers flirtily as he walked away.
“I’m going to get another drink at the bar,” He announced, leaving without his glass and without asking if anyone else wanted one. You knew where he was truly going, if the lock of his jaw and the stamp in his step were any indication. You doubted you’d be seeing that waiter again.
As you poked at your food, Pansy excused herself too, only a few bites into her meal before she disappeared with a wicked grin and no explanation to anyone. Enzo just chuckled beside you, glancing around the room like he was watching all the cogs of a machine in motion, before turning his gaze on you. “You do look lovely tonight, do you know that?”
“Of course I do. I spent days on end trying on dress after dress to find this.” You sighed, admiring the gorgeous piece of art on your body as you set your cutlery down.
“And is it serving the purpose you need it to?” He teased, voice knowing, and you nodded. Flicking your gaze over the patrons and guests in the room, you searched for Draco, finding him talking politely to one of his mother’s friends at the bar.
“It is, I think.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way.” He whispered, your focus still on the man who truly held your heart, who was making his polite excuse and walking way, back towards you all. His gaze locked on yours, only for a second, before Pansy was calling your name and drawing your focus elsewhere.
When you looked up to her, she was grinning, a man by her side. “This is Elliot, he’s been wanting to meet you for some time. I promised him I’d introduce you both tonight.”
You offered the best smile you could as his cheeks reddened, and Pansy merely patted him on the shoulder, slinking away as you offered your hand to him. “Lovely to meet you, Elliot.”
“You too. As embarrassing as that introduction was, it’s true. I have wanted to meet you for some time.” He had a kind smile and pretty eyes, and he seemed far too nice to be dragged into your game tonight, but he seemed almost like a willing participant, and you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As Draco took his seat, Elliot continued, “Pansy has told me so much about you. You know, if you’re free one day before you go back to that fancy boarding school of yours, I’d love to take you out.”
“Yeah? What have you got in mind?” You smile, twisting a little more to face him, and your encouragement only brightens his expression as Draco’s darkens in your peripheral.
“A night in London, perhaps. We could get dinner, and see the opera?”
“She doesn’t like the opera.” Draco sneered, openly staring at Elliot with enough contempt to scare away lesser men. Elliot tugged at his collar, glancing at Draco, and then back to you as you tried to hide your shock at his behaviour.
“The theatre, then?”
Draco looked ready to snap again, and before he could, you nodded, sparing your unwilling partner. “That sounds wonderful, I’ll see what my schedule says. I’ll get in touch with you through Pansy if I can find the time, is that okay?”
“Perfect.” He smiled, sneaking another wary glance at Draco who was not backing down from glaring at him unflinchingly, but Elliot shook it off, bravely. “It was a pleasure to meet you, truly.”
“And you, Elliot.”
Soon after he left, the plates were being cleared. You tried not to smirk as a different waiter, and one who very pointedly did not so much as even catch your gaze, cleared your dishes away at record speed.
You knew that Draco had something, everything, to do with that. He was jealous by nature, a spoilt single child who did not like to share his favourite toys, and that is exactly what you were betting on tonight.
You stood, taking a lap around the room with Pansy to settle your food before the next course, and to get another drink. She took the opportunity to fill you in on how her first Christmas event with Blaise’s family had gone, and when you returned, you made sure to surreptitiously place yourself behind Draco’s chair.
You placed a hand on his shoulder, a friendly gesture, squeezing and rubbing enough that your thumb swept over his collar and across his neck. His pulse jumped under your touch, and he tipped his head closer, into your touch.
As he did so, your heart leapt in your chest. To others, it might look like a friendly gesture but to you, it meant so much more. You were tempted to cave then and there, to live with this being enough, to settle, but you couldn't. You didn’t want this to be it, you wanted to follow this by leaning down to kiss him, to have him smile against your lips in public the way he did when you were alone.
To arrive at these events together, arms linked, and to stumble out tiredly together too. To sit by him, his hand on your thigh, to rest your head on his shoulder, to kiss him on the dance floor. The thought was enough to push you through.
He twisted his head, to kiss your hand like he often did when you did this. Carefully, you slipped your hand away just in time, knuckles brushing across the nape of his neck as you stepped away, and back to your seat.
His sights moved to you, but like a saving grace, the servers began to appear with more dishes, and dinner soon distracted you all. A delicious serving of salmon and potatoes, and the hall fell quiet enough for you to hear the beautiful music playing when chatter fell low.
Low conversation, drinks refilled, and that perfect mood set across the room, as people took to the tables and quieted down. Your favourite part of the night, usually. Good food, your friends, and a chance to catch up without the usual weight of it all sitting on you. Regulus was talking, telling the rare story that had him caught up in a long conversation where he usually just observed quietly, but your attention was fixed on your lover.
Until, Theo spoke up.
“Oh, merda,” He muttered across Reggie’s’ story, his gaze cutting to you alarmingly quickly. “I forgot to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” Your heart skipped a beat, a flash of panic.
“My cousin flew in last minute for the party, and he wants to speak to you.” Theo’s words soothed your panic, and you offered him a flat look for the dramatic way he’d put it. Taking a sip from your glass, you raised a brow.
“When?”
“Now.” He confirmed, sights lifting to sit just behind you, and before you could even turn, a chair was being pulled up beside your own from another table. Turning your head to the owner, a smile burst across your face at the man sitting before you.
“Dario!” Your arms were around his neck before you could stop yourself, and he was chuckling as he bundled you into an equally enthusiastic hug. He chuckled lightly, pulling back only far enough to press a friendly kiss to your cheek, and you cupped his face as you parted from him. “You’re growing a beard!”
“My mother hates it.” He chuckled, rubbing a hand over it. As you twisted a little more towards him, he reached down, practically manhandling you as he reached for the edge of your seat by your legs, tugging it sideways to face him. You squealed as the chair jolted, screeching on the floor, tugging you closer as he leaned in. “Sei incantevole.”
“Are you charming me in Italian?” You smirk, a boyish smile on his face as he lounged back in his seat. “What are you doing here, anyway? Theo said none of you were flying in this year! I thought you couldn't make it.”
“I couldn't,” He sighed, shrugging, “But, then I heard that you would be here, without a date, and I knew I just had to make it. So, here I am, la mia bella donna. You think a short flight from Italy would stop me rushing over here to you?”
Your giggle was against your control. Even if he was more like family than a romantic interest, the way his accent twisted around coyly spoken words, was enough to bring a blush to even the most unreceptive woman’s face. “Cut it out, you flirt.”
“You’ll save me a dance later, right?”
“We’ll see.” He rose his brow, and you lifted your glass, taking a sip of bubbly to hide your smile, leaving him hanging. “Depends on how much more of your cheesy flirting I can endure.”
“You mean my wonderful Italian charm?” He teased, pinching one of your cheeks, and deepening the flush he had already created. “Don’t think I don’t see the way I make you blush.
You could only scoff, mouth dry as you tried to think of a retort, and you didn’t miss Theo muttering in Italian behind you, curse words you’d picked up on tumbling from his mouth.
“Perhaps this can convince you,” Dario reaches for his inner pocket, producing a small, slim box. An excited squeak breaks from you as he hands it over, your fingers brushing the elegant leather, an Italian name embossed across the front. “Open it later, alright?”
You could only nod, admiring it happily, before slipping the box safely inside of your clutch. He took your hand, kissing your knuckles as he stood. A final wink as he offered you hid charming goodbyes, and a farewell to the rest of the table, before returning his borrowed chair to where he had taken it from.
You watched as your friend left, disappearing into the crowd, no doubt to mingle and socialise as he had always been so good at, before you swung back around in your chair.
“He taught you everything you know, huh, Nott?”
Theo only shrugged, a cheeky grin on his face. “What can I say, tesoro? We Nott men just have charm. We’ll woo your panties right off.” He winked, the cockiness not lasting long as Draco swung at him, a fist landing roughly on his arm as the Malfoy heir scowled, glaring at his best friend.
“Cut it out.” He growled the words through gritted teeth, and your hand shot up, rubbing at your lip to hide your grin as Draco made no effort to hide his own emotions. Theo only laughed, rubbing at the patch on his arm he’d taken the hit.
Dessert was served, a beautiful display of ice cream and winter berries that almost looked too good to eat. The key word being almost. You hadn't been able to resist, however, and the first small groan you’d let out as the sugar hit your tongue had Draco’s gaze snapping straight to you. I did not leave, once, after.
Instead, he watched, through a dark gaze, every curl of your lips around the spoon, every swipe of your tongue to catch the juice of burst berries. If you’d put on a little extra show, just for him, nobody else had to know.
It was like he was staring right into your soul, so intense, even after the meal was long since finished. Finally, you indulged him once again, turning to look at him and raising a brow. “Yes, Draco?”
“You look beautiful tonight, I am simply admiring.” He let his gaze move across you slowly, making his admiration apparent, and his gaze lingered a fraction of a second longer on your neck. He stared at you with open adoration, the kind of look that told you exactly how he felt, even if he was fighting it, but he was close to breaking. He was close to losing this game he didn’t know he was playing. Then, his gaze flickered over your shoulder, sweet observation morphing. His brows drew together, his open hand slamming down on the table hard enough to make the glass rattle. “Oh, fucking hell…”
Mattheo erupted with sudden laughter, loud and brash, and there was a tap on your shoulder before you could even ask him what had him in such hysterics. A young man you did not know, perhaps a few years younger than you, and glanced around the table to see which of your friends had put this one together. Each seemed to have caught on in their own time, and had a hand in adding to the fun, to watch Draco suffer more, but none of them were laying any claim to this one.
“I’ve been watching you all evening, and you are beautiful.” He smiled, stuttering over his words slightly, and Draco made no shy show of his disdain, rolling his eyes and making a disapproving sound. “I was wondering if you might grant me the pleasure of a dance?”
“She would dance with you,” Enzo interrupted, before you could speak at all, leaning forward toward the edge of your chair from his own, and you could have kissed him in gratitude for saving you. “But, she promised me her first dance. Isn’t that right, love? And I think now is the perfect time. Let’s go.”
Offering you his hand, you took it, letting him sweep you away without a second’s delay, navigating you both to the dance floor and twirling you expertly into his arms. One hand clasped your own, the other sitting at a respectable place on your waist, your own on his shoulder, and he fell into the well-rehearsed steps of a classical ballroom dance he’d been doing since he could walk.
You let out a shaky sigh, relief flooding your veins as you looked back to your seat, noticing that the boy had taken Enzo’s rejection well and disappeared, not hanging around and waiting for your return.
“You’re killing him slowly, like a predator playing with its prey,” Enzo smirked, neither of you needing to clarify who you were talking about, as he brought up his cousin.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really?” He chuckled, spinning you out before pulling you back in, sharp actions that made you dizzy with their accuracy, and you grinned as he brought you tumbling right back into his arms, perfectly. If he’d been trying to win you over, his dancing alone would’ve had you swooning. “You just show up to a fancy event like this, dripping in diamonds and pearls and looking like a million bucks, supposedly single. You mean to tell me you didn’t know that all these rich London boys wouldn't descend on you like vultures?”
“Not my fault I’m single and hot, Enz.”
He just laughed, dipping you a little. “We do struggle, don’t we.” You wove between people, a happy silence falling between you both once again as he guided you over the floor, back and forth, “Are you, though? Single, I mean.”
“That is up to your cousin.”
“Touché.”
You continued to move, until your feet were sore from all the twirling, clinging to Enzo in fits of giggles as he spun and twirled and dipped you more, hands on your waist as he lifted you through the air, making a show of his dancing.
He may have seemed altruistic in his gestures, sweeping in to save you and Draco from your dance with the boy, but he was using you too. Enzo was taking every opportunity to show off his moves to every lady around the room watching, a flirty smile on his face between conversations and he glanced around, and you wouldn't be surprised if he received more offers than Theo or Dario by the end of the night.
As the third song came to an end, and the music fell for just a second, you panted slightly, arm around his neck now, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and a bright smile. “Can we take a break?”
“Tired, already? You only gave me three so far.” He smirked at the way your jaw dropped, your face going hot and you knew your cheeks were red. You untangled yourself from his body, barely making it a step away from his laughter before he wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you into his side. “Oh, c’mon. I thought the aim was to flirt and make him mad?”
“He’s not even here to listen!”
“I’m practising,” Enzo murmured, steering you towards the bar, and leaning on the wood as he flagged down the bartender. You were quickly served, by a woman who fawned over Enzo as she passed by, and you had to snap your fingers in front of his face to snap his gaze away from her retreating form. “So, how long are you going to make him—”
A tap on Enzo’s shoulder cut him off, and he turned to look, straightening up instantly from his slumped position. As soon as he moved so you could see, your relaxation melted away too, as you found yourself face to face with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy.
“Lorenzo, I’ve hardly had a chance to talk to you all evening. I want to ask you about your schoolwork.” The impressively formal and deep voice of Lucius Malfoy settled over your skin like fresh snow, cold but smooth, and you shuddered.
Narcissa only chuckled lightly at her husband’s words, her eyes on you. “You’ve been busy, though. Who is your lovely lady?”
“Uncle Lucius, Aunt Cissa. This is my friend, (Y/n).”
It wasn’t exactly the circumstances you’d wanted to meet them under, but you smiled nonetheless, nerves running wild as you offered your hand to them both, shaking politely just as your parents had taught you.
“Ah, (Y/n). Yes. I make a point of knowing all of Draco’s school friends, but I’m in business with your father, aren’t I?” Something like a small kernel of sweetness was buried in that statement, his interest in his son’s life, even if he tried to hide it behind formalities, but it wasn’t your place to comment.
“Yes, sir. That is correct.”
“They’re very proud of your schoolwork. They were telling me about your latest project. You synthesised a new potion to grow murkweed faster, is that true?”
You were surprised he knew so much, your small project submitted for Herbology was the last thing you’d expected Lucius Malfoy to know of, or take an interest in, and your mouth felt like sandpaper as you tried to form words. “Yes. Yes, sir. That’s right.”
“Interesting.” That calculating gaze scanned over you, analysing you from head to toe, like he could see right through you with a single glance. “That is impressive, for someone of your age. I’d be open to learning more. Are you considering making a future out of your alchemy talents? I have connections that I could contact for you.”
You were speechless, your stomach going wild with butterflies born of both excitement and anxiety. He smirked, a look that would set you on edge if you weren’t sure deep down that this was in your interests, not against them.
“Perhaps we can discuss it more soon, when we next see you. With Enzo?”
Enzo’s arm around your waist shifted, a reassuring weight that you were sure had been your only grounding presence for this surreal conversation. He patted your hip encouragingly. “Oh, no, we aren’t…”
Motioning between you both, Lucius’ brows furrowed, and Narcissa tried to hide her sigh.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Aunt Cissa. (Y/n) isn’t mine, though it is wonderful that you approve.” Before either could question him, or expand on their confusion, Enzo gave your waist a final rub, before removing his touch from you entirely, and stepping towards his family. “Shall we go and discuss schoolwork then, Uncle? You have questions, and I have answers. I hope the ones you want.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/l/n).” Lucius politely offered you his hand again, shaking it firmly, and that was about as friendly a dismissal as you’d ever get from him, you’d heard. This was only supported by the surprised look on Narcissa’s face, and the beam Enz gave you as he guided his uncle away.
“I hope to see you again soon, (Y/n). You look wonderful this evening, thank you for coming.” Narcissa murmured, before following her husband and nephew, glancing back at you only once over her shoulder. She knew. The woman was far more cunning than she let on, the true embodiment of a sneaky Slytherin, observing quietly and taking everything in. Her eyes glinted. She knew you knew she knew, too.
Your heart was pounding, cheeks warm as you lifted your fingers to them cautiously. The disappointed waitress placed down two drinks before you, Enzo long gone without his, but you smiled at her with appreciation, fingers shaking a little as you lifted the glass to your lips to take a sip.
You’d spoken to Draco’s parents.
They’d liked you. Lucius had offered to put you onto the career path, and Narcissa had complimented your dress. A soft laugh of disbelief slipped free, your eyes sliding closed for just a second as you revelled in the moment.
It hasn’t been what you’d set out for tonight, but it was far more than what you’d hoped for. Opening your eyes again, to head back to the table and find Draco, you were met by the sight of a stranger leaning before you on the bar, grinning down at you in amusement. “Hello.”
“Hi.” You gave a terse smile, and a single nod. “If you’ll excuse me—”
“I didn’t even get to ask you to dance yet. Saw you out on the floor with the Berkshire boy, earlier, and I thought—”
“I’m dancing with her next, mate. Piss off.”
Draco rarely sounded that mad, a chill went down your spine as you felt an arm slide around your waist, tugging you back into his chest. “Dray…”
The stranger only scoffed, glaring at Draco as he wandered away, and your hand reached for his forearm on your body. He snatched it away too soon, however, tugging on your hip to turn you around. His jaw was clenched tight, eyes more frozen than the coldest glacier. “Dance with me.”
Not a request, and he didn’t wait for an answer, before plucking your drink from your hand and slamming it down onto the bar, guiding you back to the swaying bodies. Standing before you, you offered him your hand, your hand sitting lightly on his shoulder. He didn’t take the respectable route, instead, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, sweeping you close to his body, and beginning to move you both in simple steps.
It was several minutes before he relaxed, your arm sliding further around his neck in a more intimate hold, bringing the two of you much closer, swaying slowly. The tension in his body gave way with every step, and with a resigned sigh, he finally spoke, “You met my parents.”
“I did. They were lovely. Very curious about Enzo and I’s relationship.”
His hand clenched on your waist, and you tipped your head at him as his piercing gaze drilled into you. One more move…
“Oh, don’t be so mad, Dray. We’re only shagging, after all. You’ll find a new girl if I get swept away by someone else.”
His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching, and a fire burned in those silver eyes now, melting the ice away with rage. Checkmate.
“You win, alright? I’m not playing this stupid game any longer.” He took a deep breath, and another, fingers twitching on your back as jealousy bubbled under the surface. “For fucks sake, how many pieces of jewellery from other guys are you wearing? Who bought you those earrings, that necklace? I should be the only one buying you gifts. I should be the one spoiling you. You want the Malfoy family ring? I’ll go yank it off my mother’s engagement ring from her finger right now, just take all this off.”
He studied you for a second, confusion growing at the smirk that grew on your lips. Victory was yours, and you leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to his cheek. Letting the hand from his neck smooth down his chest, his gaze stayed locked on the jewels around your neck, glaring angrily. “No.”
“No?”
“No. It’s pretty. I’m going to keep wearing it all, let it remind you what you have. Next time you piss me off, forget a date, or use the last of my shampoo, I’m going to put it all back on so you can remember how many guys would jump at the chance.” His nostrils flared, but he stayed silent, wisely knowing when to keep his mouth shut. “I don’t want your family ring, Malfoy. Not yet. I just want a proper title, and the respect that comes with it. I’m not your booty call, or your side piece. You don’t want to play games anymore? Then don’t.”
“You already won.” He whispers, his head dropping down to let his forehead rest on your own. “You know how much you mean to me.”
“Yes, I do. But I want the whole world to know it, too, Dray.”
He didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he twisted his head, enough to press his mouth to your own, silencing any more arguments between you both as he kissed you. His lips claimed yours, a tender and loving kiss, showing everyone just how much you meant to him. There was no mistaking the emotions within it, not as his arms wrapped around your body, holding you to him as the pretence of dancing was given up, your hand on the back of his head, fingers in his hair, meeting every push and pull.
When he pulled away, your smile took over, bashful now under his openly adoring gaze, and he stole several more pecks from your lips. A happy sound escaped you as he tugged you in, tucking his face into your neck, and swaying you both to the music.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“You have, but I’d be open to hearing it again.” Your hand smoothed over his hair, and he chuckled against your skin, leaving a kiss on the crook of your neck before raising to meet your eye.
“You are breathtaking, darling. I’m in awe. This colour is my favourite, you know.”
“Why do you think I wore it?”
His fingers trailed down your spine, eyes sparkling even more at that revelation. “How about we get out of here? We’ll make our goodbyes to my parents, and head out.”
“Our goodbyes?” You repeated as he took your hand, lacing your fingers together.
“Yes. From their son and his girlfriend. I think you deserve a proper introduction, after all.”
Tugging you across the floor, he gave you no time to prepare, and certainly, none to disagree, as you smoothed your hair and attempted to control the blush he’d brought to your cheeks. Through the crowds he wove, until he was pulling to a stop just shy of his parents, and Enzo looked as though he could have cried with relief when Lucius’ intense focus was taken away from him. The boy quickly slipped away as both of Draco’s parents turned to face you.
“Miss (Y/l/n), when we said we hoped to see you again soon, I didn’t realise you’d take it quite this literally.” He murmured, voice as low and calm as always, and your lips parted, a different kind of heat flooding your features.
“Oh, behave now, Lucius,” Narcissa grinned, her gaze dropping to your clasped hands, before she reached up to her son’s face, pinching his cheek with a smile. “Draco, darling, I’ve hardly seen you all evening.”
“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you Mother, but we’ll be leaving early.” She only gave him a knowing look, ignoring Lucius’ displeased huff, as if she wasn’t surprised at all.
“‘We’?”
“My girlfriend and I.” He said, proud and strong, before tugging you forward a little more to stand in front of him. His hand left your own, circling your waist instead, and she offered him a smile at the news.
“I see.” She smiled, patting her son’s cheek affectionately, before turning that knowing gaze on you. “Now Lorenzo’s evasiveness whenever I asked him about you makes sense.”
“You asked about me?” Your words were a rushed squeak, which only seemed to amuse Narcissa more.
“Of course, dear. I wanted to know more about you. I’d ask you to sit and chat with me for a spell, but I believe my son might combust if I did.”
“Mother!” He gasped, and Lucius only tutted.
“Draco.” His father growled softly, shaking his head, and the red on his son’s cheeks only grew.
“You both may go, for now. But I hope you’ll visit me soon, and we might talk?”
“You mean… just us?” Your words tapered off to a near whisper, and Lucius smirked to himself as Draco rolled his eyes.
“Yes, dear. We’ll have tea.”
You could only nod, bidding your final farewells to them both in a state of awe, before Draco was hurrying you along. Tight hands gripping your waist, lips on your neck as he loved you through the crowds, swiping up your bag and giving you barely a moment to say goodbye to your friends before sweeping you away again. It was only due to the snow falling outside, you were sure, that he allowed you to stop long enough to get your coats.
Helping you, he lifted the garment onto you from behind, kissing your cheek as he reached around your body to fasten it. His elegant coat was already on, and leather gloves were on his hands as he offered you one. Lacing your fingers through his own, he smiled, tugging you out into the freezing night, and ushering you around the side of the Manor, away from the stream of cars lined up for guests as they left.
“Where are we going, Dray?”
“To one of the gardens near the path.” He never turned back, leading you carefully around patches of ice and slippery snow as you moved, the light from the house fading. It was almost pitch black, before he mumbled a small spell, and the garden lights glowed to light, glittering on the fresh blanket of ice.
Sitting on the grass was an old-fashioned sleigh, enchanted to keep dry, even in the snow, and two reindeer sat happily in the snow snuffling at the grass and scattered food.
The landscape stretched out far before you both, trees and grass and walls all covered in snow like something from a Christmas card, and the sigh that left your lips clouded in the air before your face.
“Oh, Draco…” Taking a few steps closer, snow-tipped over the tops of your heels as you stepped off the pathway onto the grass, chilling your feet for only a second, before Draco was following. Scooping you up into his arms, you kicked the ice from your feet with a giggle, your arms looping around his neck. “What’s all this?”
“This is your Christmas present. I didn’t realise that was the kind of ice you wanted instead.” He muttered, eyes flicking down to your neck, as he carried you carefully through the snow and towards the ornate sleigh. As you leaned in to kiss his cheek, he smiled shyly, avoiding your gaze as he became embarrassed, “I wanted to do something romantic for you. We can take the sleigh back to the town, get a cab, and take the jet anywhere you want to go. Pansy already packed a bag for you.”
He placed you down on the edge of the sleigh, letting you shuffle across onto the warmed leather. With another kiss to your lips, he scoffed at your smile.
“Merry Christmas, my wicked little girlfriend.”
“I can’t believe you arranged all this.” You were practically bouncing in your seat, watching as Draco nervously tugged on the reins, prompting the lazy animals to stand back up, before settling into the sleigh himself. Like they knew just what to do, they took off in a slow trot, tugging the pair of you along through the snow.
“Maybe if you’d have waited, instead of making me fight for my life tonight, you’d have been surprised.”
His arm was splayed along the back of the seat, and you snuggled in a little closer to him. Curling his arm around you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, shaking his head and burying his nose in your hair. “If I didn’t make you fight for me, Dray, you’d probably have introduced me to your mother as your study partner. I gave you a little push, that’s all.”
“Is that so?” He muttered, guiding your face up so he could peck your lips. “Who do you think helped me arrange all of this for my ‘lovely lady friend’, hm? I’ve been writing to my mother about having an interest in someone for months now. You underestimate me.”
“You never gave me any other indication!”
“Oh, please. You walk me like a damn dog, you knew how I felt.” His mouth closed over your own, stealing a kiss, and you couldn't help but smile into it. “I think tonight just proves it.”
The sleigh trotted on as Draco kissed you in the back, beyond thought and reason, your hands tucked into his coat for warmth as he kept you cuddled in close to his side.
Minutes melted away, the two of you lost in your own world as you jostled and trotted through the fields, back toward the town. Whatever he had planned, it had been in motion for days, and the thought only made you fall a little more in love with him. Perhaps you had underestimated him, but none of it mattered now, not when he was kissing you like you were his only way to breathe, and you had him in your arms, properly, at last.
“So, Pansy knew about your little plan?”
“Yes. I told her days ago.”
“Hm…” You loved her, and it was perhaps her knowledge of Draco’s actions that made this all the funnier. “So, she knew about your plan, and mine. And still, she made sure to introduce guys to me all night. She played us both just for her own amusement.”
As you thought of her, your fingers lifted to your neck, sitting on the delicate jewellery there, and Draco huffed. Looping his finger underneath it, he tugged lightly. “Can you take this off now, please?”
“Why would I do that?” His pout deepened, glaring at the offending item, and you gave in with an airy laugh. “Pansy, Daph and Tori picked it out personally.”
“What?” His head snapped up, pout gone as his jaw dropped, and he was not laughing like you were. “You let me believe another guy decked you out in diamonds all night! What about the matching earrings?”
“Blaise.”
“The bracelet?”
“Theo and the Notts.”
At that mention, his eyes narrowed again, searching for your clutch and finding it resting in your lap. “But Theo’s cousin Mario gave you a separate gift.”
“Dario.” You corrected, and he mimicked it childishly, scoffing afterwards. “Well, that part was real. He truly was flirting, and I have no idea what it is, I haven’t opened it yet.”
“Give it to me.” He reached for your bag, a second too slow as you swiped it away from him with a gasp. He didn’t give up, still trying to snatch it as he leaned over you, pressing you back into the seat through fits of laughter, the two of you fighting over the bag until it was pressed to your chest, your eyes wide as you stared up at him, shaking your head. “Give it to me! I’m chucking it, hand it over!”
“No, it’s mine!” He slumped back into his seat, panting for breath and smoothing his hair back down. He was pointedly staring away in the opposite direction, and when you leaned in closer with a chuckle, he leaned away. Grabbing his shoulder, you planted yourself firmly in his lap, kissing the underside of his jaw. “I’m keeping it, but your present is better, I just know it. Whatever it is, could never beat this.”
“Promise?”
“I promise, Dray.”
He gave in, wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you in closer to his body and pressing a happy kiss to your cheek. “Fine, but I’m buying you a new necklace when we get off the damn plane. I don’t care who bought that one.”
draco malfoy x classmate!reader
a short story (?) solving draco's small jealousy issue. first post, don't expect too much </3
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“you’re pouting” you typed in a rush under your desk, nails quietly tapping.
“what?” an immediate response. “no im not. are you crazy?” he texted back.
“draco. I'm not blind, I can see you.” you replied to him right after.
“maybe you should borrow Potter’s glasses.” excuse him?! how unsufferable. He's literally sulking across the classroom, his brows furrowed like his day is already ruined and it's only 8 in the morning. “Draco.”
“its my normal face.” Professor Snape turned around quickly and you slid your phone back in your pocket. Whatever, you’ll question him after. About 2 minutes passed before you gave up on holding back and unlocked your phone, texting him. Again.
“Cedric asked me if I could give him Cho’s number. He wants to ask her to go with him to the ball…” you sent, sighing. Ding!
“Ok.”
“Is that all you have to say?” Seriously, just an Ok?
“Im feeling better, alright.” You smiled, you guessed right. That was the reason he was upset. Slap! Snape hit you on the head, ouch… Snatching your phone from your hands as you looked over to Draco who had a big grin on his face like you deserved that. You frowned at him. You'll get your payback once this class ends.. but it's taking forever!...
