Draco remains in his current position, against the table. His look of
surprise has changed to disappointment. Unsure of what to do next i swing
my arms about and take good look around the room.
"Draco---I mean Malfoy" I ask him hesitantly " What happen to you."
"How do you mean?" he asks me back, one eyebrow arched, bracing himself
against the table with straightened arms.
His response has left me flustered.
"Oh---maybe the absence of your constant villainous remarks about what
dirty, muggle---mudblood loving scum the Weasly are." I say heatedly. My
true feelings are(I hope) hidden behind my own pseudo-smirk(although it is
completely unatural).
"My taunting is reserved for your brother and Potter---I don't really hate
you Weaslys!" he looks around the room.
"I just don't care about them," He says lifting up his arms.
I cough and tap the toes of my shoes together. He turns to face me.
"Did I say something wrong?" His face is genuine and immensely new development.
I will not allow myself to be tricked. He's acting. This new Draco is still an asshole, one who has always presented himself with a turgent posture--- mean and sadistic, a Death-Eater's son. A Death-Eater himself---
"Sit," I tell him, pulling out a chair of my own. I feel the green snake skin upholstery underneath my fingers. It is disgusting.
He seats himself.
"So you're a murderer?" I ask, as if this was a topic that could be included in any light-hearted conversation. I am incredibly nervous.
"No," He tells me, raising his right eyebrow as he jabs at his cuticle with his thumb-nail.
"Hum?" I ask, confused. My eyebrows knit; so much that they almost look as if they were upside-down. "But you told me that you-are-a-murd-der-er."
He tells me "I don't believe killing a person who loves to and will kill is a bad thing. Do you?" he raises his eyebrows at me.
"Well---n-no." I reply. There is complete truth in what he is saying. "So the Ministry isn't after you?"
"I've already told you they aren't," he says back to me, his tone reflecting slight annoyance. "And you---- don't you still want to believe it."
He shakes his head and I say nothing.
"I believe it is a service to kill a man who has no heart---" I tell him.
"They you should have killed me when you first met me." Draco tells me jokingly.
He has an honest man's smile.
"I just don't care about them," He says lifting up his arms.
I cough and tap the toes of my shoes together. He turns to face me.
"Did I say something wrong?" His face is genuine and immensely new development.
I will not allow myself to be tricked. He's acting. This new Draco is still an asshole, one who has always presented himself with a turgent posture--- mean and sadistic, a Death-Eater's son. A Death-Eater himself---
"Sit," I tell him, pulling out a chair of my own. I feel the green snake skin upholstery underneath my fingers. It is disgusting.
He seats himself.
"So you're a murderer?" I ask, as if this was a topic that could be included in any light-hearted conversation. I am incredibly nervous.
"No," He tells me, raising his right eyebrow as he jabs at his cuticle with his thumb-nail.
"Hum?" I ask, confused. My eyebrows knit; so much that they almost look as if they were upside-down. "But you told me that you-are-a-murd-der-er."
He tells me "I don't believe killing a person who loves to and will kill is a bad thing. Do you?" he raises his eyebrows at me.
"Well---n-no." I reply. There is complete truth in what he is saying. "So the Ministry isn't after you?"
"I've already told you they aren't," he says back to me, his tone reflecting slight annoyance. "And you---- don't you still want to believe it."
He shakes his head and I say nothing.
"I believe it is a service to kill a man who has no heart---" I tell him.
"They you should have killed me when you first met me." Draco tells me jokingly.
He has an honest man's smile.