❛ M A L F O Y ❜

@puristmalfoy

      wizards. a bunch of egotistical fools, the lot of them. features contort into that of mild disgust as he strolls through diagon alley, lithe fingers tucked delicately into his suit pockets as dress shoes gently thud against the cobblestone beneath him. ‘ you can’t use magic in front of muggles, you need a license to do this and that, you’re a disgrace to the magical world ‘. what a load of CRAP. but UNFORTUNATELY, if he wanted the ministry to get off his back, he’d have to get galleons for some kind of ‘magical beings’ license. a small smirk graces thin features as he turns into knockturn alley, mismatched gaze flickering over the shady patrons bustling past him. galleons weren’t too difficult to come by for him. Borgin and burkes were always willing to take a few crystals, selling them to customers before they turned into stone. and even as stones, put them on top of a small slab and they became quite an appealing bookend or decoration. a dramatically bored sigh escapes him as he enters the store, a small bell ringing above him to signify it. and much to his displeasure, a wizard was already here. a young one, no less. Borgin was quick to greet him, although Jareth wasn’t particularly interested in listening to small talk.

         ‘ I have FIVE, do you want them or not? ‘

    he interrupts, thin arms tucking tightly across his chest as he watched the scraggly wizard scurry off to the back. funny how easily you could get results if you just made things SIMPLE.

            in a place where 'DON’T ASK, DON’T TELL’ was implicitly written on the walls             and beady eyes, all white with no pupils, followed your every twitch & movement,             Draco couldn’t help but feel exposed by blinding lights, despite the ever-looming             shadows that were his invisibility cloak. to be spotted in Knockturn Alley gave only             the impression that one was UP TO NO GOOD. after all, no truly virtuous person             could be found perusing the shelves of ye good olde Borgin & Burkes — not quite             Honeydukes by any stretch of the mind. 

            svelte fingers, though usually nimble, tremble & jolt with every change in atmosphere;             they carved patterns along the withered skin stretched over the monstrous dark object             that had long caught his attention. the Hand of Glory they called it. a rather unbecoming             piece of work, modelled as a large, clawed hand that supposedly bore light only to the             holder itself when needed, amongst other things. he had been fixated on it for perhaps longer             than he was aware. 

           SKITTISH as Draco was, the bell-sounding and scuffling of activity had him jump            edgeways! out of his skin, causing the Hand of Glory to snap shut, inches from taking            his bony wrist captive. though it was not unheard of to see new faces in Borgin & Burkes            - usually dubious travellers or toothless haggards - this man fit neither of the categories,            and even more so, the curious transaction piqued Draco’s attention. he waited ‘til Borgin            had left before putting in his word. 

                 ‘ are they valuable? ‘ it came as a lethargic drawl,                   well disguising the bubbling curiosity that truly wished                    to show its colours in his voice.

                       I, I WILL BE KING. AND YOU, YOU WILL BE QUEEN.

          ❝ What do you want, Malfoy? ❞

     UNDETERRED BY SLYTHERIN’S fowl remarks,      green eyes are narrowed when his head raises.

              ❝ To tell you the truth, my nose appreciates your           concern. Really, it was awfully kind of you to ask. ❞

          ‘ what makes you think i want something from you? ‘

            NO-ONE COULD ESCAPE the belligerent defensiveness that             held weight in Draco’s retort — granted, perhaps there was nothing,             in the literal sense, that he would ever care to want from the Gryffindor             ... a RESPONSE was where Draco claimed his reward.  

                     ‘ oh yeah? well, i hope your nose doesn’t have too           many hard feelings about my fist. after all, i’m sure they’ll be            acquainted again in the near future if i have my way. ‘

OPEN.

                  ❛   yer looking for a god. didn’t ya’ suspect that there was also a DEVIL ?   ❜   

                ❛ how very PROFOUND, weasley.                          — i suppose you thought of that all by yourself. ❜

GRANGER:

 Even if Draco was going to begrudgingly behave, Hermione knew better. She knew he would shove her into a cupboard, or down some stairs, or something terrible would befall her. The silence wasn’t amicable, and their proximity was unsettling. Hermione kept flattening her robes and her hair.

          ❛What do you mean the worst? Any rule breaking is to be reprimanded. There’s no worst.❜

 But there was. The older students, the seventh years who thought themselves so slick and clever, nestled up in an empty classroom. Once she had seen someone she believed to be sniffing some strange powder, but that had been handed off to a teacher and she had never followed it up.

           ❛Why?❜

         Draco’s attempt to stifle a SCOFF of disappointment was passive at best at her          lacklustre response; for a split second, a sharp breath pooled in the pit of his lungs          in anticipation for Granger to spill whatever  S C A N D A L O U S  gossip she may          have overseen. be that as it may, he wasn’t completely sure whether it was the hearsay          he was after or the notion that the words would be coming specifically from Granger’s          righteous, unsullied lips.                  the miscalculation that she would ever dare to spread slander sent Draco          back to the doldrums where he would inevitably remain for the remainder of the night. 

     ‘ really, Granger, give it a rest. ‘ his retort was spat bitterly, partnered with the sourest      scowl upon his pointed face. ‘ McGonagall’s not around to hear your preaching.       i don’t suppose you eat pages of the rule book for breakfast every morning?              no need to be so DULL. ‘

                               the act drops, her head tilts & her smirk FULLY blooms.  ‘ haven’t used it yet.            can’t decide how.       perhaps you could give offer your assistance ? ‘ 

              draco feigns thought;        a silent miscreant of a grin playing on his lips. he knows whatever        plan pansy had cooking up had him already ENRAPTURED.                      ‘ depends... ‘  the word is dragged out in a lethargic drawl.                                    ‘ what’s in it for me ? ‘

              ‘ is that so ?          doesn’t sound like me at all — i’d never do such a thing ! ‘     but she can’t hide the smirk, the smug look blowing her faux innocent facade. she’s good. but she isn’t THAT good.

        a brow cocked in disbelief, FRAMING the playful expression already teasing at his pointed face.

                —  ❛ did you at least save any? the possibilities are endless,                    granted, you don’t use it on someone  b o r i n g... ❜

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