I See You

A week went by, and life continued as normal. As I’d expected, some girls in my year thought it would funny to prank me, this time by turning my hair green. That was okay because I’d known who was going to do it, and I’d put Nair in their conditioner for them to use in the morning. I'd thrown mine out and my hair was spared. It’s hard to take a Seer by surprise.

7th Year was a lot harder than even I expected, and all of us were soon laden down with more homework than most of us could handle. I was lucky – if I’d had more of a life I wouldn’t have had the time to do it.

I only saw Scorpius a few times, and only in class. He didn’t speak to me, which was a nice perk.

We had a reprieve from prefect duty that first week, so that we had a chance to orientate ourselves, and get accustomed to the workload, but our first Friday back, Scorpius and I were supposed to prowl the corridors, catching students wandering after curfew and the like. I didn’t particularly relish the thought of having to do it with Scorpius, but it wasn’t as if I could feign sickness. It would be too obvious. Especially if I did it every time.

It was with nervous butterflies that I met him outside the Great Hall at ten. He was leaning against the wall, reading a book of all things. He turned down the page when he heard me approach.

“Good first week back?” He asked cordially as we started up the stairs. I grunted noncommittally, and concentrated on not falling flat on my face; to say I was accident-prone would be putting it mildly, and I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “Excellent,” He said dryly.

When we reached the top, I turned to go one way and he grabbed my hand. I flinched, fearing another vision, but breathed a sigh of relief when all I felt was his large warm hand encircling mine. I pulled away like he’d burnt me.

“I hate the way you do that,” He muttered, looking down at me; he was at least a head taller than me now. I was abruptly irritated.

“What do you expect? I don’t want you to touch me!” His expression didn’t change, and he didn’t move away like he usually did at my outbursts.

“You’re a terrible liar,” He commented lightly. He began walking down the corridor and I had no choice but to follow him; we were supposed to be patrolling. I didn’t answer.

Scorpius swept aside a particularly grim tapestry depicting the goblin war, and I found myself in a narrow shortcut to the 4th Floor staircase I’d never seen before, and I knew most of Hogwarts like the back of my hand.

“First match of the season in coming up,” He stated conversationally. He glanced at me when I didn’t say anything. “Are you going to come watch me play?”

“What do you think?” He gave me a quick grin. His hand swept his hair back out of his face; it was getting long, I noticed.

“I think I don’t have to be a Seer to know you will.” I snorted, actually amused by that one; it was a line I hadn’t heard before.

“Bollocks.” I flatly informed him, narrowly avoiding falling on my face as I stepped through a vanishing stair on our way up; his hand shot out and steadied me, seemingly automatically. I blushed, but carried on as if nothing had happened. “I never come to the matches.”

“You’ll be there.” He promised with groundless conviction. Whatever. Let him think what he wants.

Just as we came out onto the 5th Floor corridor I heard high-pitched laughter; I rolled my eyes. Not far down, we saw a group of 5th Year Slytherin girls sitting on one of the benches. They tittered and giggled when they saw Scorpius – I was just part of the scenery.

“Now ladies, it’s past curfew. I don’t want to have to take points off my own House.” He chastised lightly, sounding oddly authoritative; perhaps McGonagall had seen something in him that I hadn’t. As if he were Merlin himself, the girls all picked up their things and scattered, giggling all the while. I stared at him.

“Bye Scorpius!” one of them called flirtily over her shoulder.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I muttered as he waved to her and smirked crookedly.

“I’m sorry, does it bother you when I talk to girls?”

“Not at all. You can whore to your heart’s content. None of my business,” I replied, snarky. His smile just got wider.

I groaned; was it always going to be like this from now on?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Weeks passed by in a blur of homework and bitchy questions from girls, all wanting to know what was going on between Malfoy and I, which was nothing, I kept telling them. They didn’t seem to believe me.

After another long night of prefect duty (Malfoy and I had agreed to split up from now on to ‘cover more ground’), I was sitting by the fireplace in the common room, mesmerized by the flames and too tired to go up to bed.

It was, as Malfoy reminded me - twice - the night before the quidditch match. Not that it meant anything to me. Voluntarily turning up to a whole stadium heaving with people? Not likely to ever happen.

I heard laughter coming from the boys’ staircase and lazily craned my neck around to look. Some of Malfoy’s friends entered the common room, and when they saw me broke out into nearly identical leery grins. I recognised Malfoy's best friend, Adam, and sneered at him; I was pretty sure he'd been the one who turned my bag into a spider in 4th year. He smirked at me, and they continued on their way out. I frowned; it was after curfew and I could have stopped them, but Malfoy was Head Boy so there was little point.

I wondered at the way they’d looked at me and shivered delicately; I knew I’d find out soon enough.

Soon enough turned out to be the next morning at breakfast when everybody was gearing up for the match.

Malfoy’s ex – well, his most recent one anyway - confronted me the second I sat down. She hovered over me while I quickly spooned down porridge; I didn’t want to be here any longer than necessary. Finally, after staring at me for a good minute, she finally spoke.

“So you’re going out with Scorpius then.” She stated. I literally choked, and it took me a few seconds to clear my windpipe.

“What?” I gasped. She wasn’t a Slytherin for nothing, this one – as manipulative as they come, and with a voice like a million nails on a chalkboard, it was little wonder he’d broken up with her.

“Well, I spoke to Mandy last night, and she said you and Scorpy -” I cringed at the nickname. “- are going out. Done the nasty and everything.” I stood up, breakfast forgotten.

“Where is he?” I demanded, trying to keep my tone and face as nonchalant as possible.

“Down at the Quidditch pitch, of course.” I stared at her wordlessly. You’ll be there, he’d promised. I couldn’t think up a curse – verbally or magically – bad enough for him.

I stormed out of the hall and breezed through the open doors out into the grounds, heading for the quidditch pitch. Almost everybody was there now – the Great Hall had been practically empty while I’d been eating breakfast – and I could feel that indescribable pressure building in my head as I started pushing through the crowd towards the Slytherin changing rooms. I ignored it.

It took me too long to get through the throng; by the time I was halfway there, the players were already on the pitch, and their names were being announced. I gritted my teeth and resigned myself to the fact that he’d gotten his impossible wish. I was here. I’d just have to wait until after the match.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As Scorpius had probably anticipated, most of my rage had boiled off during the game as I watched my House play. I’d shouted and booed and cheered with the rest, deciding that since I was there, I might as well enjoy myself while it lasted. Against my will, I couldn’t deny that Malfoy was an excellent keeper, saving goals that many others probably wouldn’t even attempt.

I recovered some of my anger though when I finally managed to push myself through the leaving masses to the boy’s changing rooms. I kicked open the door and stared around the room, finding it empty of all but one bag. Luck was on my side; it was his. Or maybe he'd planned this. I wouldn't put it past him.

“Malfoy!” I yelled, incensed.

“Just a second, love!” came his faint shout from the shower rooms. He was in the shower. Heat rose in a deep blush from my neck to my hairline - foolishly, I hadn’t expected this. As I stood there dithering, he came out of the showers, heat still rising from his skin.

He was gorgeous. No denying it with him stood so close, wearing nothing but a long white towel that he held up around his waist. Beads of moisture trailed down his chest and disappeared down into the towel. He’d be turning 18 soon but he didn’t look it at all – more like 19, at least.

I wrenched my gaze back up to his face before he could catch me looking. I could tell though, from the look on his face, that he had. Good – my temper flared again at the cocky look in his eye.

“You manipulative son of a bi -!” I took a couple steps forward and raised my hand to slap him. He caught my hand easily – I should’ve known better than to try to hit a quidditch player. I raised my other arm. He dodged it.

“Careful now. You know what’ll happen if I let go of my towel.” Yes, there was definite laughter in his voice, and in his eyes. I paused.

“You told people we’re going out? That’s we’re SLEEPING TOGETHER?” The smirk disappeared and a look of worry crossed his face as I said this. He still held my wrist in his hand.

“No. No, Mona, I didn’t say -”

“You liar! Why would you do this?” Towel be damned, I was going to hit him if he didn’t say something good, quick.

“Mona, listen. All I said was -” I took another swing at him and he raised his other hand to catch it; thankfully, the towel didn’t fall, but it slid down a couple inches.

This wasn’t going how I’d expected it. He was holding me way too close to his body now, and I found myself tongue-tied, my anger dimming. I mean, he was practically naked. I tried to yank away, but he held me fast, effortlessly. His eyes were wide and earnest as he looked down at me.

“Listen! I only told them we were going out, that’s all! I swear.” Abruptly, I was calm.

“I don’t believe you. Let go.” When he started to protest, I interrupted him. “Now.” Sighing, he did as I asked. I started backing away towards the door, suddenly feeling like I was fighting tears. I’d known he was a dickhead, but really? This?

“I’m not your friend, Malfoy. Start any more rumours about me, and I’ll be using my wand next time.” I didn’t take the time to decifer in his expression.

I turned and fled like the devil himself was chasing me.