Disclaimer HP belongs to JK Rowling.
AN Soz for the wait, although I have always said that my updates are sporadic at best. Still, I hope you enjoy reading this chapter nonethless. Any advice or comments will be highly welcome.
This whole friendship thing with Potter is really beginning to annoy me. It's only been a week and already he seems to think we're best pals or something. Well I'm sorry, but the feelings of utterly fabulous hatred that we had for each other do not suddenly vanish completely in the space of seven fucking days! They may diminish to mild simmering irritance, but no way totally disappear.
What's even worse, possibly the worst thing even, is the fact that whenever he sees me he smiles. It is truly disconcerting. I keep wondering what he's up to; what humiliating scheme he has cooked up for me and then I realize he's trying to be amicable and civil with me. But then, what if it's all a front and he really does have some dastardly plan in store for me and he's simply trying to lull me into a false sense of security? I wouldn't put it past him the bloody cigarette stealer…
Wherever I go in the castle he always seems to pop up as if from nowhere. If I didn't know better I'd say he was following me or something because I swear I never saw him half as much as when we were still openly fighting. Shit, what if he's stalking me?
I review the thoughts I've just had and realize just how paranoid I sound. Hell. This 'friendship' is going to kill me if I don't watch out.
It's early evening and everyone else is in the Great Hall finishing off their dinner, but I have decided to take a peaceful walk around the lake while everyone else is busy stuffing their faces with pie.
I hate pie. It is such a pointless thing and my most hated of all desserts. Everyone knows one only eats pie for the filling. Nobody really wants the stupid sodding crust; it is a pointless piece of doughy crappiness and I refuse to acknowledge its place on my plate or, indeed, anyone else's.
Sadly, being so absorbed in my pastry related reverie, I fail to notice Potter sprinting up to me with all the energy of a bunny on speed. He grabs my arm and makes me jump so fiercely that I nearly fall into a nearby bush.
"You… you… you bloody idiot wanker!" I manage to snarl once I have my breath and my balance back. He doesn't seem to realize that his presence isn't wanted. But then he never seems to, so I don't know why I'm surprised.
The dark haired boy opens his mouth as if to speak and then closes it again, looking down at his hand still grasping my arm as if perplexed.
"Draco, why is your arm crackling?"
I set aside the fact that Boy Wonder just called me by my given name for the moment as Potter suddenly yanks the sleeve of my robes up to reveal my arm.
"Hey, watch it! These are Milo LaRage!"
"Draco, why is your arm covered in patches?" He asks, incredulously. I give him an irritated look before replying.
"Stop calling me Draco! And for your information Potter, you were the one who told me to use one whenever I felt like a cigarette!"
"But your arm is covered! I can't even see any skin!"
"So?" I grumble. Honestly, I was doing what the silly bugger wanted me to wasn't I? "Incidentally, while we're on the subject, I need some more. These patches are ridiculously weak and I need lots."
The poor little Gryffindor still doesn't seem to understand judging by the blank expression on his face. I dig about in my pockets and manage to locate a solitary nicotine patch.
"See? This is the only one I have left Potter so you have to either provide more or give me my fucking ciggies back!" I flourish the patch before his absolutely heinous glasses to further illustrate my point. He still seems at a bit of a loss, but I can see he is obviously steeling himself for something. I have a nasty feeling I'm not going to like this something…
"I threw away all your sticks of death, remember?" He announces in a patronizing way. "But I also don't have any more patches since most normal people don't use them like they're going out of fashion. But, since you need some more, that means you can definitely come with us to Hogsmeade tomorrow. I'll see you by the main doors at ten."
"Wait…w-what?" I stutter in a really unbecoming way. However, I am not to worry as Potter has already walked off with an annoyingly suspect grin on his face. Dear Merlin, what the heck just happened? Have I become so depressingly easy to manipulate?!
I glare at the patch still in my hand as though it held the blame for my current predicament. Then I remember that Potter said to go 'with us to Hogsmeade'. I grit my teeth savagely and slap the last remaining patch over my jugular.