*/ stay gold

Lily had navigated under the radar in Malfoy’s classes during her time at Hogwarts for this exact reason. She had no reason to doubt he would be any different than how her parents had painted him – though they tried to do it in a kind manner, there was always an underlying sourness to their years at school.

“Yes, professor,” Lily said, not wanting this specific interaction to go on much longer. She felt it unfair to be treated in such a way when she had only proven herself to be a capable student. “Well since I am here, I would like to ask you for an explanation on a couple of things for the upcoming NEWTs, if you have a moment?”

Yes, there was an underlying sourness to draco’s years at school too. it wasn’t like harry potter was the only one sentenced to death at sixteen. and he resented it: he would never be quite severus snape, the ultimate sourpuss, but he would never be able to exhibit the kindness of a child who had been shown love. 

He smirked, slightly at her response: she was certainly well behaved, something that one could not say of her brothers. But Draco was taken back - he had almost forgotten she was his one of his NEWT students. “Yes, of course. Come in.” Draco relaxed slightly, open the door to his office with a wave of his wand. 

   “Is it better or is that what you tell yourself?” Luxio was also an honest person and one who didn’t hold back despite how much the truth may hurt. He honestly never understood what he did to get on this girl’s bad side but he was sick of it. 

“I’d rather be anything than a coward.” Skye said, sticking her chest out: if there was one thing skylar was proud of, it was that, no matter what you said about her, she really was a gryffindor. except she let her bravery blind herself to her own cruelties.

“Lately, my hands… they don’t feel like mine.” The words came out quickly, a confession Elara hadn’t been ready to make. 

@unfcrgiiven​ (lyric from jolene by ray lamontagne)

Skye felt a lump rise in her throat. Oh how she knew that feeling. trying to avoid the pain of the previous night, of the boy she had turned. oh how she wished that the hands that grew claws once a month were not hers. “I know what you mean.” She nodded, but quickly looked down: how eager could she sound, before there were consequences? “D’ya want to talk about it?”

scout nodded. “of course. it is a classic.” she said and kissed the tips of her fingers like a melodramatic italian chef. “we might have permanently traumatized rosier with that one, but what’s that got to do with this?” she asked, raising a brow.

“pst who cares, I’m traumatized from all those detentions!” Skye giggled, a sound she would not emit in front of any other person, at Scout’s gesture. “I’m thinking that we congratulate the wimborine wasps, our style.” her eyes flashed dangerously. she wasn’t saying it, but it was also payback, for luxio.

—- Henriette chuckled softly as she stepped forward to collect her cup of tea. “You do have a point, Mr. Malfoy,” she replied and looked back at the professor. “Bad news keeps the prophet going.”

“Bad news.... and your father’s money.” It was kind of a joke (Draco would never insult Montague to his face, no matter what he thought privately), but rooted in truth: purebloods with enough money were forever paying the Prophet off.

He knew this wasn’t going to be easy. He knew that the moment he had made up his mind that he would ask Lyra to marry him and a part of him wanted to skip it all but he felt that would just result in something worse than this if that was even possible. Jay tried to ease the tension in his shoulders, he was trying to find the correct words to say what he was here to talk about but nothing was leaving his lips. He figured that he better do it quick before he didn’t have the chance, “Well, it’s just that Lyra and I have been dating for quite sometime..–” Their relationship started before they even graduated from Hogwarts and had been strong ever since, “I’m in love with her.” That part came easy, because it was true and there was no doubt of it in Jay’s voice. “I want to marry her and I know how much it would mean for her to know that we have your support.” 

Draco knew exactly what the boy was planning on saying. He and Astoria were expecting this - at some point. Better sooner than later, right? But Lyra was still his baby, his only daughter. And this was just one more step in her growing up. He paused, as if he was lost in thought (even though Draco knew what his answer was going to be). “If you love her, then you have our blessing..... But a warning,” Draco crossed his arms over his chest, subconsciously running over the spot on his inner forearm where his dark mark lay underneath. “I don’t care who your father is.... If you do anything to hurt my daughter, you will rue the day you first spoke the name Malfoy.”

—- “You were at the match right,” she said and tilted her head as she looked to the other girl. “It was stressful for me, I sort of figured you’d be in the same boat, mate.”

“Oh... yeah the match, yeah....” Skye had forgotten all about the match. She breathed a sigh of relief, and smiled towards her former housemate. “How are you doing?” 

scout raised an eyebrow. that was a never a safe sentence coming from skye, but it did usually lead to a fun time. “alright. I’m listening.” she said, taking a seat opposite her partner in crime. “what have we come up with this time?”

“So remember when we used to put dungbombs in the Slytherin locker room?” It had maybe not been the best prank they had ever pulled off - landed them with a week of detentions and they had lost the next game - but it was worth it, right?

Lily suddenly wished she had spent more time caring about arithmancy to remember that she was indeed in the hallway of Draco’s office. She was not as outspoken has her brother nor was she a troublemaker like her uncles had been, but Lily knew the history between her father and Malfoy.

“Of course, professor Malfoy,” Lily said. “Certainly I know it’s your hallway. I was merely taking a stroll. This castle seems to always have corridors that one never sees even when we believe we’ve seen every inch of it. I take it your day is going well?”

She smiled and shook her head. “I would never do something a professor might not approve of,” she said with a playful smile. “Who do you think I am? My father?”

She had never particularly been one of his favorite students, but was probably the most tolerable of the bunch. “I see you’ve learned a lesson from all of your father’s rule breaking, then.” He said, smirking coyly. 

“But perhaps, Ms. Potter, you should be a little less suspicious of your professors. It does not do well for someone to believe that they own the place just because of their last name.” There was a fair bit of irony (or perhaps, hypocrisy) in Draco’s statement - after all, had it not been he who believed he owned Hogwarts when they were students?

This man was so moody but James supposed it wasn’t really his fault considering it was probably in his DNA to be this way. At least he thought so, he wasn’t really sure. “Nobody wants to see a Malfoy either, but I guess you’re still kicking around. Did you come here for ice cream? I know you need something to make you sweeter.”

Even happy, Draco was not a very expressive person - the Malfoys had been taught to express joy subtlety. “That’s your opinion, Potter.” It wasn’t a very nice thing to say, but James’ words stung. He hadn’t taught his children to hate the Potters, but apparently Harry Potter had other ideas of sensibility. “I’m sugar free, actually.” Draco said dryly, pushing past the boy towards the shop.

Oliver had recognized Skye from the Puddlemere United/Holyhead Harpies match that he and his father attended this past summer. And even then, he knew he had seen her face before at Hogwarts. She definitely wasn’t a Ravenclaw. But from the way she carried herself and the language she used, Oliver was willing to bet she was a Gryffindor.  

And he has no idea why something inside him gave him the confidence to address her. But now, here he was, standing before this professional quidditch player that he barely knew. “Oh, uh,” Oliver stammered. “No reason. Just, uh, making a joke, I guess.”

Even years after leaving Hogwarts, Skye had not grown up much: her actions were still reminiscent  of the reckless Gryffindor she once had been, the girl who should not have been made head student. Perhaps the only thing that had changed was how much she had to lose. 

Maybe she shouldn’t be so mean: it was something her managed had yelled at her about. In the real world, people expected celebrities to be nice. And Skye was anything but. Her manager’s words ringing in her ears, she gave a grimmaced sort of smile before relaxing slightly. This boy may have been a stranger, but he anything but threatening. “Well the season’s on a break, so no need to eat healthy, right?”

A Malfoy wasn’t exactly what he was in the mood for dealing with right now, especially under these circumstances. He’d only just managed to put a real smile back onto his face and now Draco was ruining it again. However, he stayed nothing but polite and forced a fake smile onto his lips as he tilted his head to the side. “Wait, you mean to tell me that the entire world doesn’t revolve around me? I’ve been wronged.” His eyebrows raised and he turned on his seat, resting his arm on the back of it. “Most people think it’s cute, so I know deep down that you do, too.”

“I don’t care about you enough to lie to you - no one wants to see a grown man’s tongue. It is quite frankly disgusting.” Something about the Potter boy infuriated Draco more than any other of Molly and Arthur Weasley’s irritating grandchildren. At 17, his father had saved the wizarding world, but couldn’t teach his own son some semblance of personal responsibility? Draco’s own children would never behave in such a way.