The next few days Draco never felt more world-weary. Hanging out with Crabbe and Goyle was the least appealing thing to do, and the last interaction with Abby was rather embarrassing. He had decided to stay away from her until he had come up with a clever plan of his own. He's a clever guy! But apparently not as clever as he thought, since he was not coming up with any witty ideas.
Abby proved far more brilliant than he. She was ever so content at the Gryffindor table. Or so one would think. Abby was not the type to allow someone to think that a silly little house would shape her coming. No, she was a bright girl, and her feelings for Draco, whether good or bad, she was determined to keep to herself.
Draco sat in the Slytherin common room, watching others do their homework and chat about things that he found worthless. Younger girls in small groups passed by him occasionally, giggling like idiots, and Draco would roll his eyes. Enough was finally enough. The atmosphere was becoming cramped. But he didn't want to go to his dorm. His dormitory was even more gloomy and wearisome to the eye. He decided that he'd take a walk on the grounds. Perhaps clearing his head was a good idea. Then maybe he'd be able to come up with a clever plan to get Miss Abby back. Or he could just fantasize about her. Which seemed to overrule vengefulness.
Again the wind took a stab at mussing Draco's hair, and yet another failed attempt. The air had a cold chill, not odd for summer in England at dusk. A breech tree by the lake looked like a nice place to sit down... if you were a girl like Potter. So Draco instead sat on a large rock right on the bank. It seemed a lot more rugged to be there.
Flat rocks caught his eye and he began skipping them across the lake's slightly rippling surface. The cold air had a way of making the muscles in his body ache. And Draco was well off in the body department. His arms were slender yet muscular, and his chest was what any girl could dream of. He hadn't always been that fit though. There was a time when he was a rather scrawny little kid. But Draco was seventeen now. His face had matured, though much faster than his attitude. His eyes were more gray and he was obviously much taller.
He never truly knew why he'd ache in cold weather. It wasn't as though he were an old man with brittle bones. He just felt sore.
He turned around, feeling someone's presence. Abby was standing a few meters away from him, long, light brown wavy hair being gently blowing across her face. Draco wasn't sure if he was glad to see her there, or if he hated it. But he knew that he could stare at her for hours. He wouldn't though. That'd be intense of him. And Draco cannot be intense. At least this was what he told himself. He told himself that the only reason he was interested in Abby was for sexual matters. He was attracted to her. That was all...
Abby took a step toward him as he looked at her from over his shoulder. She didn't have her black school robes over her clothes. She was simply wearing a white Oxford shirt and a skirt about a centimeter above her knees. Draco wondered how she wasn't freezing. For some reason his back tensed and he let out a groan of pain, but quickly cut it short.
"Are you all right?"
Draco was caught off gaurd by this. He hadn't expected her to care how he was feeling. "I'm fine. It's nothing."
Abby raised her eyebrows disbelievingly and took a few steps forward. Draco was facing the lake now, but he felt her getting closer. His eyes grew wide as she sat behind him. And he was even more surprised to feel her hands on his shoulders.
"What--" he started.
"Shh. Just relax," Abby said, not realizing how soothing it had sounded to Draco.
Her small fingers worked hard to massage his shoulders. Soon her hands worked lower, to the sides of the middle of his back. Forgetting himself, Draco emitted a groan of comfort.
Abby paused for a tenth of a second. Well if that wasn't the manliest sound she had ever heard, she thought to herself. She continued down to his lower back.
Abby's fingers, though preciously small, were giving Draco the most amazing massage he'd ever gotten. And judging by the fact that the only one he'd ever gotten was from Pansy, whose fingers were like lobsters, this was rather good. But Draco, whose eyes had been closed for the past minute, opened them abruptly and spun around, grabbing Abby's wrists and taking her by surprise.
"What are you doing?" he asked her in a slightly heavy tone.
Abby blinked. "I've been at this for almost ten minutes and you still don't know what I'm doing?"
Draco shook his head impatiently. "Not that. I mean.. WHY?"
Abby pulled her hands out of Draco's grip. "You were in pain. And I've been told I have a gift for kneading."
"You sure as hell d-- that's not the point," Draco said quickly.
Abby chuckled. "Fine. I won't touch your back."
For a moment Draco thought of asking which other place she'd like to massage, but thought better of it. Suddenly he had an idea.
He got up and walked away. Okay, so it wasn't a GREAT plan. But he had the idea that he was depriving Abby of something she wanted. She'd made a move towards him. She touched HIM. In Draco's eyes, this meant she wanted him now, and he had just walked away. Suddenly he stopped. WHAT HAD HE JUST DONE?! He'd been an idiot. He could have persued her! Mentally kicking himself, he turned around to walk back, not sure of what he'd say to her about his actions. But then he stopped again, eyes wide in surprise.
Harry Potter had walked up to Abby. She was still seated on the large rock, and with Harry standing, he looked rather taller than he was usually. But what made Draco maddest was the smile Abby had on her face. It was as though she were laughing. Draco hadn't gotten that look on her face before, and he was instantly jealous. He spun around once more and made his way back up to the castle, vengeance on his mind once again, and this time it was far more potent.
Abby proved far more brilliant than he. She was ever so content at the Gryffindor table. Or so one would think. Abby was not the type to allow someone to think that a silly little house would shape her coming. No, she was a bright girl, and her feelings for Draco, whether good or bad, she was determined to keep to herself.
Draco sat in the Slytherin common room, watching others do their homework and chat about things that he found worthless. Younger girls in small groups passed by him occasionally, giggling like idiots, and Draco would roll his eyes. Enough was finally enough. The atmosphere was becoming cramped. But he didn't want to go to his dorm. His dormitory was even more gloomy and wearisome to the eye. He decided that he'd take a walk on the grounds. Perhaps clearing his head was a good idea. Then maybe he'd be able to come up with a clever plan to get Miss Abby back. Or he could just fantasize about her. Which seemed to overrule vengefulness.
Again the wind took a stab at mussing Draco's hair, and yet another failed attempt. The air had a cold chill, not odd for summer in England at dusk. A breech tree by the lake looked like a nice place to sit down... if you were a girl like Potter. So Draco instead sat on a large rock right on the bank. It seemed a lot more rugged to be there.
Flat rocks caught his eye and he began skipping them across the lake's slightly rippling surface. The cold air had a way of making the muscles in his body ache. And Draco was well off in the body department. His arms were slender yet muscular, and his chest was what any girl could dream of. He hadn't always been that fit though. There was a time when he was a rather scrawny little kid. But Draco was seventeen now. His face had matured, though much faster than his attitude. His eyes were more gray and he was obviously much taller.
He never truly knew why he'd ache in cold weather. It wasn't as though he were an old man with brittle bones. He just felt sore.
He turned around, feeling someone's presence. Abby was standing a few meters away from him, long, light brown wavy hair being gently blowing across her face. Draco wasn't sure if he was glad to see her there, or if he hated it. But he knew that he could stare at her for hours. He wouldn't though. That'd be intense of him. And Draco cannot be intense. At least this was what he told himself. He told himself that the only reason he was interested in Abby was for sexual matters. He was attracted to her. That was all...
Abby took a step toward him as he looked at her from over his shoulder. She didn't have her black school robes over her clothes. She was simply wearing a white Oxford shirt and a skirt about a centimeter above her knees. Draco wondered how she wasn't freezing. For some reason his back tensed and he let out a groan of pain, but quickly cut it short.
"Are you all right?"
Draco was caught off gaurd by this. He hadn't expected her to care how he was feeling. "I'm fine. It's nothing."
Abby raised her eyebrows disbelievingly and took a few steps forward. Draco was facing the lake now, but he felt her getting closer. His eyes grew wide as she sat behind him. And he was even more surprised to feel her hands on his shoulders.
"What--" he started.
"Shh. Just relax," Abby said, not realizing how soothing it had sounded to Draco.
Her small fingers worked hard to massage his shoulders. Soon her hands worked lower, to the sides of the middle of his back. Forgetting himself, Draco emitted a groan of comfort.
Abby paused for a tenth of a second. Well if that wasn't the manliest sound she had ever heard, she thought to herself. She continued down to his lower back.
Abby's fingers, though preciously small, were giving Draco the most amazing massage he'd ever gotten. And judging by the fact that the only one he'd ever gotten was from Pansy, whose fingers were like lobsters, this was rather good. But Draco, whose eyes had been closed for the past minute, opened them abruptly and spun around, grabbing Abby's wrists and taking her by surprise.
"What are you doing?" he asked her in a slightly heavy tone.
Abby blinked. "I've been at this for almost ten minutes and you still don't know what I'm doing?"
Draco shook his head impatiently. "Not that. I mean.. WHY?"
Abby pulled her hands out of Draco's grip. "You were in pain. And I've been told I have a gift for kneading."
"You sure as hell d-- that's not the point," Draco said quickly.
Abby chuckled. "Fine. I won't touch your back."
For a moment Draco thought of asking which other place she'd like to massage, but thought better of it. Suddenly he had an idea.
He got up and walked away. Okay, so it wasn't a GREAT plan. But he had the idea that he was depriving Abby of something she wanted. She'd made a move towards him. She touched HIM. In Draco's eyes, this meant she wanted him now, and he had just walked away. Suddenly he stopped. WHAT HAD HE JUST DONE?! He'd been an idiot. He could have persued her! Mentally kicking himself, he turned around to walk back, not sure of what he'd say to her about his actions. But then he stopped again, eyes wide in surprise.
Harry Potter had walked up to Abby. She was still seated on the large rock, and with Harry standing, he looked rather taller than he was usually. But what made Draco maddest was the smile Abby had on her face. It was as though she were laughing. Draco hadn't gotten that look on her face before, and he was instantly jealous. He spun around once more and made his way back up to the castle, vengeance on his mind once again, and this time it was far more potent.