Chapter Text
( slightly suggestive stuff in this chapter so if you're uncomfy with it you may want to skip)
I shove out of Draco's grasp hearing Blaise yell. As my eyes adjust to the bright light of the world outside Draco's jumper I see a small crowd gathered around Blaise. He raises his hand triumphantly, a stream of blood trickling down his hand and onto his arm.
He beams at me, pointing to the deep gash on his arm enthusiastically. Peyton stares at him, her face as pale as a ghost. I assume she watched the whole ordeal.
I stutter out a panicked "How?!" as I make my way over to him. He smiles proudly at me as I reach him. His smile fades as I pull out my wand, throwing his hand in the air so I can't reach it.
"NO! If you heal it with magic I won't have a cool scar from the dragon!" He whines, holding his hand high enough that I can't reach it. "I wanna heal it the muggle way so it scars." He says, grabbing my wand and stuffing it into his pocket.
"The dragon?!" I gape, grabbing his arm and dragging it down to my face. He doesn't resist this time as my wand is in his possession now. He nods victoriously, analysing the cut with me.
"As soon as I saw the dragon coming I climbed to the top seats," He begins, nodding to the crowd of people gathering themselves on the top seats of the stands, "Because I had the best idea to get a crazy looking scar so girls'll feel sorry for me." He states, staring dumbly at me. I raise my eyebrows, not impressed. Despite this, he continues, "I mean I didn't think the spines on the tail hurt this much..." He trails off, pulling his hand closer to his face.
I shake my head disbelievingly at him, slowly being pushed away by flocks of concerned girls. How this boy is so popular with the girls at Hogwarts is beyond me.
I barely have time to relay this information to a not so concerned Draco before said dragon whips over us once again. I scramble for the rail of the stands, searching the arena for Harry. I hear the cheers and roars of victory before I see Harry raise the golden egg above his head.
I unintentionally sag with relief, letting out the breath I was unconsciously holding. "Who knew I'd actually be nervous for Potter." Peyton says, sliding next to me. I nod in agreement, watching the dragon stop in it's tracks, bound by magic it seems.
Draco scoffs behind me, "I wasn't nervous for a second." He says proudly. Me and Peyton share a glance before turning to face him.
"Oh?" I ask, crossing my arms and leaning against the rail.
"Did you have that much faith in him, Malfoy?" Peyton adds, raising her eyebrows in amusement. Our lips turn up at the corners, in an attempt to quell a smile.
He groans, tilting his head away from us. "You know I didn't mean it like that." He mumbles, stuffing his hands into his pocket. He spins away from us, pushing through the crowd. We laugh amongst ourselves before I resign to the fact it's my job to chase after him.
I elbow through people waving their arms and whooping, using his white hair to track him down amongst all the house colours. He slips down the staircase leading under the stands and back onto the field outside the arena. I mutter various apologies as I squeeze through groups of people and a couple near the stairs.
I hurry down the rickety wood careful as to where I place my feet, making sure I don't fall.
My eyes have trouble adjusting to the darkness and my ears are flooded with the sound of people running and stamping across the seats above me. I call out a soft, "Draco?" chewing my lip nervously when I don't hear a response.
I open my mouth to call again. "I knew you'd chase after me." He whispers cooly in my ear. I shiver as I feel his breath against my skin. I spin around to him, feeling his hands snake around my waist. "I didn't chase after you." I say plainly, resting my hands on his chest. I straighten the folds of his suit jacket, pulling him closer in the process. "I just didn't realise that we struck a chord with Harry." I smile, trailing my finger along his jaw.
His fingers slip under the back of my jumper, his fingers grazing my bare skin. My cheeks flush hotly and the slits of light through the seats highlight it. He smirks knowingly, tracing small circles on the bare skin of the small of my back. "No chord was struck, I just wanted to get you alone..." He purrs, staring deeply into my eyes.
I press closer to him, feeling the bones of his hips press against mine. His gaze falters as I do so, flicking down to our proximity to each other. It's my turn to smirk at him.
He grabs my waist tightly, drawing it even closer before he leans close to my mouth, purposely teasing me. I slip a hand up his chest and behind his neck, feeling the ends of his hair brush against my fingers.
I lean into his mouth, feeling our lips brush against each other. I feel him shiver against me before he closes the gap between us. When our lips press together he guides me backwards and I feel the rough wood against my back. His body presses mine against the wall as he deepens the kiss.
The cold metal of his ring presses against the skin of my waist under my shirt. He pulls away briefly, his eyes unsure but when I nod they darken again. He presses more passionately against me and his tongue flicks against my lips. I part my lips, letting him in.
I gasp against him when his other hand slides up my thigh and underneath his thigh. I freeze against him, feeling my heart flutter uncontrollably. His hand stops uncertainly and he begins to move away. I grab his hand before it can leave. I slide it back to where it was and I cup the back of his head, pulling him closer to me.
I suck in a breath when he pulls away, only to gasp again when I feel his lips against my neck. I stare nervously at the shoes of people walking on the stands as his mouth trails various marks down my neck and underneath the collar of my shirt.
My fingers bunch up his hair as he presses the last mark at the base of my neck, a proud smirk tugging at his lips. I cup his face, resting my thumb on his bottom lip. I tug it down gently. "You smell good." He whispers against me and I laugh.
"That's because I smell like you." I say, letting him pepper soft kisses down my jaw. He shakes his head, hugging me tight to his chest, his arms wrapped around my waist. He breathes me in, "It's so much better than that." He sighs, pressing me back against the wall.
I shiver at the tenderness in his voice. "You smell like the sun right after it rains and the dew on the grass." He says sheepishly, tucking a loose hair behind my ear. I fiddle with his jacket, a deeper blush blooming on my cheeks. "You smell like a new book as you're curled up next to a fire." He whispers, punctuating it with a kiss against my mouth. "You smell like warmth." He mutters against my lips.
"Well I was just gonna say you smell fresh." I laugh against him, watching his mouth hang open before a smile tugs at his mouth.
"It'll do for now." He groans mockingly, drawing me in for another kiss. I smile against his lips, slipping my hands under his jacket and around his back. The warmth of his body seeps into mine.
The heat from before returns to his eyes and I gasp when he roughly grabs my hips. I laugh to myself admiring the duality of his personality. I grab at his belt to pull him closer, receiving a surprised noise in return.
His hand finds it way back to my thigh again, creeping closer and closer to the hem of the stockings I'm wearing. His fingers hook under the sheer fabric, grazing the skin of my upper thigh.
My body jerks as a reaction and my hips press against his very suddenly. He groans, breaking the kiss momentarily. "Sorry!" I gasp, bringing a hand to my mouth, "Did that hurt?!" I ask, watching his face morph into an amused expression.
He grabs the hand covering my mouth, "Not at all..." He mutters, brushing his lips against mine, "Actually quite the opposite." He purrs, a smirk tugging against his lips.