A/N: I've decided that I need to write more. I tend to put things off, and then get anxious about them, even the things I love doing, like writing. So, to try to combat this icky pattern, I've decided to challenge myself to write a few little drabbles every day to random prompts I find via Wikipedia [it's a complicated process]. Anyway, thanks for reading, reviews are much appreciated :)
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, who I am in no way affiliated with. I am not profiting off of this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
Prompts: Outstanding, France, magazine
Un Peu
"Pansy, I have no idea how you get Outstandings when I never see you study."
Daphne is curled up in an armchair as she says this, reading last month's Witch Weekly magazine. Tucked inside of it is the Quibbler, but I always pretend not to see. She doesn't realize how suspicious it looks to eagerly read an old issue of a magazine the day a different magazine updates each month.
"Some of us don't need to study," I answer, "I don't see why I should when I'm getting O's already. Do you?"
Daphne shakes her head quickly and ducks down behind her two-layers of magazine. I don't know why people always seem to react with their bodies to things that only bother their heads. It's not really cunning of Daphne to do this, but I decide not to mention it. A while later she speaks again.
"If you're not studying, what are you doing?"
I study her. She's being nosy again, but I don't say anything, because she looks like she might duck down again.
"I'm writing in French."
"Why?"
I hate that question. Daphne asks it entirely too much. But I patiently wait for her to invent a response for herself, like she so often does. I'm very patient. I know I don't have to wait any longer when a dreamy look comes over her face.
"Do you have a boyfriend in France? Oooh, and I bet he loves when you speak to him in broken French! Yes, he must find it positively adorable, and he tells you so quickly in French—but, your French being poor, you don't quite understand—so he repeats it under his breath in English, and his accent is to die for, and his voice is so charmingly deep," she finally breaks off to sigh.
I keep writing for a while, and when I look up again I realize Daphne's gone to bed and Draco's reading in the armchair now—though, naturally, he isn't reading Witch Weekly.
"Draco?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you speak French?"
"Un peu."
Now it's my turn to sigh.