DOUBLE UPDATE: CHAPTER
AFTER THIS

SEPTEMBER 29th, 1996

Voices carried from every inch of the lively castle, a whisper or two mixing in, and warmth traveled from the heels on Rosalie's feet up to her slytherin robes. The bell had yet to ring, but students were lingering and walking the halls after a long lunch.

She curved the corner, finding Nott and Malfoy, with their two groupies; Zabini and Rosier, circled up against a wall. Spare the two girls, one named Rylie, with a last name she never cared enough to learn, speaking up to Malfoy and Zabini. The other, one she had no clue the name of, chatting away with Nott and Rosier.

Theodore's eyes locked with her own and her feet faltered, her chest restricting with the flutter of a thousand birds slamming into her ribcage. Only for a moment, before she resumed her pace and Draco looked up, his head tipping back on the stone wall to watch the witch approach mockingly.

One after the other, Zabini and Rosier took in the distracted stares of their friends, forcing their eyes in pursuit of the same oncoming witch. Then it was the two girls, turning around in search of who had captivated the group's attention. Once realizing, there was a spiteful glare in their eyes, but matching feminine grins. The kind of spite talked of in feminist rallies, the ones that tell you of witches hunting other witches.

The two girls laughed to themselves, as if to gain points with pointless men.

Rosalie merely held up her middle finger and continued her journey forward without another spared glance anyones direction. If there was one thing Nott and Malfoy had come to realize, and unfortunately enjoyed, it would be her quite literal sense of not caring what anyone had to say or think about her. What she did. What she wore. What she said. She merely could not have cared less, and it showed daily.

Inside the Potions classroom, she dropped into the seat and pulled a cloth-bound journal out. The leather bag naturally fell to the floor after her quill had been removed. She did not bother picking it up, beginning to flip the book open until reaching an empty page.

The two seats next to her creaked as Nott and Malfoy took to forcing her between their broad bodies, deja vu of the first time she had ever sat so closely to the unbreachable men. Slughorn began his descent to the front of the room as the last few students filtered inside the class, deja vu of every Monday.

Draco propped himself up with an arm and leaned toward her. His fingers danced over her parchment until she dared to look up with inches between them. "Did you miss us?" he asked.

"Why don't you two go harass those girls you were with this morning?" she hissed.

Draco's eyebrows lifted before he glanced over her head at Nott. "I must confess myself confused...Is she jealous?"

"Poor thing," Theodore murmured, so close to her ear that she flinched. "Don't worry Princess, I'm not off the market...and psychologically torturing you sounds much more fulfilling."

"I don't care what you are!" she whispered harshly.

"Those girls do hate you though..." Draco taunted, her head spiraling back and forth between the boys. "I wonder," he muttered, "What did you do?"

"You know who I actually feel sorry for? Them." Rosalie picked her quill back up with a head shake. "Because while they were indeed in front of you, your eyes were on me. Obsessive much?" she laughed to herself. "It would be cute, if only it wasn't so pathetic."

Nott opened his mouth before snapping it shut, and then she turned to Draco, finding him in the same state. "Thank the Gods," she breathed out, "Some silence sounds nice."

"Everyone here?" asked the Professor, eyes searching over the heads of different students. Slughorn began his constant chant of enthusiasm followed by instructions. Today he only assigned an essay on the reasons why the use of Veritaserum is frowned upon and barely used, and Draco could not have been more obvious about his annoyance at the professor.

Within the hour, silence fell over the room. Quills scraped against parchment, metal crashed with metal, chairs shifted into comfortable positions, and Rosalie Black was left attempting to block out her burning skin at the two boys so close to her.

For the entirety of said hour, Rosalie had been humming to herself. Everything from ABBA to Warbeck, not letting a second pass by without her doing so.

A hand slammed down on their table, startling the entire room. Rosalie looked to the side of her journal, finding pale skin with a ring wrapped on his finger, holding a large 'M' embellishment.

Draco leaned closer, a snarl on his lips, "Can you stop humming?!"

Rosalie furrowed her brows before meeting his eye. "What are you talking about?" she muttered.

"You're humming!" he snapped, "You've been humming for an hour!"

"Mister Malfoy," Slughorn called, sitting at his desk. "What is the issue?"

Draco dropped his head into his hands, sucking in a rush of air.

"He's accusing me of making noise, Professor," Rosalie said. "I think he's losing his mind, I've been quiet."

"Oh, oh, very well then." Slughorn waved a hand, "Everyone resume your essays, and Mister Malfoy, please leave Miss Black alone!"

"Thank you, Professor." Rosalie sighed, playing into the idea that Draco was a mere instigator.

Slughorn shot her wink. "Of course dear,"

When Draco dropped his hands and looked over with narrowed eyes, the witch was propping her head up with a full smile aimed at him. It all clicked, and he came to understand that she must have remembered his need for silence, deciding to hum with the intention of setting him off.

Leaning into her, he whispered, "You are one cruel bitch."

A meek laugh left the girl before she dipped her head to him. "Did you miss me too?" she whispered.

"Oh," he mocked in a joyous murmur, "Just couldn't stop dreaming about this moment."

"Such a sweet boy..." She grinned, reaching for the strand of white hair that had fallen out of place, but he snatched up her wrist with his head tilting, gray eyes full of warning. "Careful Draco," she said, "People could be watching."

His throat bobbed, and his chest rose, before her fingers that still laid in his grip touched the boy's chin, forcing him to look out upon the sea of students. All at once, Draco released her, resuming his work almost immediately.

*

"Where is she?" Draco snapped, rolling his sleeves back down as he stood above the bubbling cauldron. Foolishly, he had a rough time remembering his arms must be covered. "We've been here for twenty minutes, Theo. Twenty minutes. What could she possibly have to do?"

Theodore looked down at his watch and gripped the stool he sat on with his other hand. "It's been twenty three minutes actually," he corrected with a heavy sigh. Draco paused, still holding his sleeve and shooting a glare across the table. "Stop fucking pouting," Nott said, forever ready to push Draco over the edge for his own enjoyment. "How am I supposed to know where she is when I can't necessarily follow her? Should we blow our cover by following her into the classroom?"

Draco grunted and grasped the table's edge, his fingers curling on the wood as his annoyance came bubbling. "I don't like not knowing what the fuck she's doing. I need her in my sight," he spat, dropping his head forward. "She could be with Pucey for all we know...fucking prick is what that guy-"

"Don't fucking say that," Theodore hissed, sudden anger all over his face. "I told you, we should just kill-"

"I'd love to kill him, Nott. But he's a vampire, he's already dead-"

"So what? Cut off his head and burn the body. That's how you kill a vampire-"

"Do you listen?!" Draco asked. He kept his head bowed forward, fingers turning white around the wood. "If we kill the bastard before he finishes helping the Dark Lord-"

"Then nothing. He's not even a Deatheater, just some stupid helper that's trying to keep his little sister safe," Theodore interrupted. "He'll be dead, problem solved. No more of his filthy hands on our little witch." Nott pulled at his tie in frustration, disgust making him scoff. "I'm sick of coming up with ways to keep him from sneaking into her dorm."

Draco's head snapped up with a rush of wind. "I'm not letting my mother get tortured again for one of my mistakes," he said. "And that's what the Dark Lord would do if he found out we put a fork in his ignorant plans."

Theodore inhaled deeply and Draco averted his eyes to the front of the classroom. There were things they never spoke about, even as kids, they had never been good at discussing their pain bluntly with one another. Theodore and Draco spoke in two different languages, never able to truly understand the other. It was Whitman who seemed to understand Theodore, as much as anyone could. And Blaise who could comprehend Draco unlike most.

"We'll just keep him away like we've been doing," Draco finally broke the silence. "If it takes more energy? Okay."

May the Gods be damned, they both think. Fine, they will keep doing acts that keep Adrian away. Theodore would never argue, or speak on, what happened to Narcissa Malfoy. The boys share a nod, one of agreement. They will continue causing incidents to keep Adrian at bay. Whether it be sickness, a roommate's sickness, or making her realize he was high.

"What is she even doing with a guy like that?" Theodore spat. "I hate her and even I know she deserves better than that shit."

Before Malfoy could think to give his input, the door swung open and hit the wall. Rosalie began backing into the room, two hands pushing her inside. As if Draco was a seer, Adrian Pucey was the one following in her path, shoving the witch with a sloppy grin.

"Okay!" Rosalie gripped onto his hands by her hips. "I'm here! Now, go on!"

Adrian shook his head and bent down into her ear, whispering incoherent words that made her smile. Rosalie waited a moment before pushing his head up and tossing his hands off of her body.

But Adrian grasped ahold of her face, yanking the witch in and planting his lips against her own. Her hands flew to his shoulders, allowing him to kiss her for only a moment before she tore herself away. She gave him a smile and one last push, slamming the door to block him out.

Right after, her smile fell, and she turned to be met with two glaring men.

A thousand birds beat into her ribcage as she wavered beneath their stare. She forced her feet to move toward them, against better judgment. "Why are you two looking like me as if you're about to murder me for taking out your entire bloodline? Oh wait," She dropped her bag onto the table with a sarcastic smile. "You have tried to kill me, multiple times."

Pulling out a stool between them, at the center point of the table, she sat down and sighed. Laying her arms on the wood, eyes switching between them both. Their faces haven't changed at all, if anything, their glares worsened into pure malice.

"So..." she dragged out, shifting uncomfortably, "How was everyone's day? I hope awful-"

"What are you doing with him?" Draco demanded to know, making her flinch at his sudden intrusive tone.

"Excuse me?" Rosalie rolled her eyes and lifted her hand, checking her nails with such utter slowness that was sure to piss them off. "He is kind of my boyfriend, so...yeah."

"You dont need a fucking boyfriend," Theodore spat.

Shock flashed across her face as she looked over at him. But in a rush, the initial disturbance and confusion became replaced by a blank expression. "Wow. Thank you so much for the input, Nott," she deadpanned, "I'll keep that in mind when I'm screwing him in my dorm tonight."

A quill snapped in half.

Her eyes fell down to Nott's hand that laid on the table, the feathered-quill in pieces on the wood as his fingers flexed out straight. She covered her mouth to keep a giggle down. "Oh my, Nott," she muttered, "I must be special to make you so angry."

With his chest moving up and down, he leaned forward, lips sealed until she lifted her eyes to his own. "You are aggravating!" he reprimanded.

"Darling," she murmured, placing a hand over her heart. "That is about the sweetest thing you've ever said."

Nott turned to stone and blinked, contemplating tossing her into the cauldron and letting the potion eat her skin alive. "I," he grunted, running a hand through his mess of curls and standing up. "Vaffanculo," he spat beneath his breath, yanking the leather bag from beside his stool.

Rosalie gawked at his retreating figure. "Did you just curse at me in Italian?!"

Theodore paused after only a few steps, keeping his back to her. His shoulders rolled with a deep breath, "Lets see if we can make sure you won't find yourself in Pucey's bed tonight."

"What?!" she snapped, "Excuse you!"

"Go do it," Malfoy demanded.

With one last spiteful glare in her direction, Theodore headed for the door and disappeared from the empty classroom.

"What is he talking about, Malfoy?!" Rosalie turned to the blonde, finding him with his head hanging once again. "Malfoy!" She slammed her hand down. "Tell me!"

"Black." He lifted his head in her direction, eyes heavy, "Nott will simply make him sick or," he paused, gesturing with one hand. "Put another woman in his path. Don't be ridiculous."

"That is not either of your places to do!"

"You're ours now. Get over it or throw yourself off the astronomy to-"

"What is wrong with you two?!" she interrupted sharply. Rosalie stood from her chair and walked until there was nothing but the length of boiling cauldron between them. Draco leaned himself up with a long sigh, a cocky smirk spreading on his lips. He kept one hand on the table, facing her head on.

"I am not some toy for your entertainment!" Rosalie shouted.

"Believe me darling," he drawled, "You are anything but entertainment. We are all bound together now though, therefore you are stuck. And frankly, I don't enjoy the idea of some random man's hands on a woman I am now tied to for the rest of my life."

"Do you even hear yourself?! Why does it matter if someone's hands are on me?!"

Draco held up a finger, "I-," he stopped short. Running a hand over his jaw, he said, "I actually don't have the answer to that yet. But when I find out," he winked, "I will be sure to let you know."

"Oh fuck you and that cocky fucking attitude of yours," she spat.

"Well..." His eyes fell down her body, and his tongue swiped across his bottom lip. "If you insist."

The audacity of this man was one of the most shocking qualities he held.

Therefore she had no choice but to test him. No choice but to step toward him until their chest brushed and she had to tip her chin up to him. She brought a hand to his heart, eyebrows lifting as he tensed but remained stoic. "Have you ever been with 'blood-traitor'?" she wondered, beginning to drag her fingers down. "Or, have you only ever put your dick up the stiff skirt of other blood-supremacists?"

When a smile spread over his lips, she knew her plan had failed. "I'd be willing to try,"

"Hm." Her hand stopped at his belt, her fingers lingering on the metal. His head tilted with a jaw twitch, warning all across his face. "You couldn't handle it," she assured in a low tone.

His fingers wrapped around her wrist forcefully, yanking her arm up. A devilish smile peaked out on her lips, and he breathed deeply.

"You need to be careful," he warned.

She tore herself away, glaring at him as her eyes looked up and down over his body. "Never been one for following directions," she said.

"Well, you should learn. Quickly."

The witch went quiet and took to standing in front of the cauldron. She tore off her coat, left in a white turtleneck. Draco relinquished control and sat on the stool next to her standing body, shuffling to create a bit more distance.

By the time she had become focused, Draco fell into a tranquil state of watching her every move. Each time she moved to the ingredient closet, when she chopped the lavender into bits, when she pulled her hair into a clip and shook her head each time the potion bubbled too quickly.

He does not know the last time silence has felt so good.

But he is not blind.

And he wished he was.

He does not want to notice the sharp curve of her nose. Or the lines of her cheekbones. Or the intense contrast of her hair compared to his own. Cascading like a river of ebony silk. He thinks, she is the type the poets speak of. And as his gaze continually falls on her, no matter how much he tried to steer his eyes away, time seemed to stand still. It was as if the universe had conspired to create a beautifully tragic masterpiece, and he could not help himself from falling into the trap that he assumes too many have fallen into.

He was disgusted with himself, so much so, and he wanted his mind to shut up before he drove a blade through his own heart to stop the disturbing thoughts.

She hissed loudly, dragging his attention to her cut open finger and the dagger falling from her hand. Draco cleared his throat and stood up as she cursed beneath her breath.

"I'm fine, it's just," she ran off, barely sparing him a glance before her attention was back on the open wound.

His hands grabbed onto her hips, spinning the witch around and pushing her up against the desk. He startled her, that much was certain.

"I'm fine, Malfoy," she repeated harshly.

He yanked her injured hand into his own and covered it with a closed fist. When she jerked, his free palm smacked at her hip.

Her eyes went wide, a choked sound escaping.

"Sorry, I," he glanced up before focusing on their joined hands. "You need to stop being ignorant when someones trying to help you," he suddenly hissed.

"What happened to make you such a prick?" She asked, tearing her hand away.

Taking a deep breath of aggravation, Draco rolled his shoulders back and placed his hands on either side of her on the table. He tipped his head down at her, and as he closed in, she did not dare to move this time.

"What do you mean, Black? What do you have to complain about today?"

"I'm just wondering what went so wrong," she sassed. "Were you never validated as a child, is that it? Your mother never around? Or, was it daddy who you could never make proud?" Draco scoffed, but she continued on, "Whatever happened to you, get over it. Act like a decent human being, at the very least every once in a while."

With brows furrowed, his lips twitched.

"What?!" she asked.

"No one ever talks to me like that," he mused.

Taken back, she furrowed her own brows. Only for a moment, before straightening up. "Well they should, stop being a fucking cliché. It's boring."

She waited for him to blow up. Start screaming at her, or hex her. Anything, anything that would seem normal for him.

But his eyes only scanned the entirety of her face, for so long that she felt a lump grow inside of her throat.

"Tell me, darling," he murmured, "Are your friends and so-called boyfriend so easily fooled?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked, voice quiet to match his own.

He slid a hand up her arm and she shivered as it ran onto the side of her throat, still snaking its way behind her neck when he said, "All those little fake smiles. Like the one you had plastered for that boy when you came in here."

"Malfoy,"

"Pathetic, isn't it?" His hand stopped on the back of her neck, the warmth of his palm greatly contrasting with the cold temperature of her skin. "That your enemy, a man who tried to kill you, can notice when they cannot?"

"I don't know what youre talking about," she choked out.

"Yes you do." His voice rumbled, a hint of anger buried within. "Why are you even with that boy?"

"Why do you even care? Truly, why?"

"I'm curious, that is all." His fingers trailed into her hair ever so slightly, "I see guys lurking around you all the time. He doesn't keep them away,"

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "That isn't his job,"

"No?" Draco cocked his head to the side, glancing down as her hand brushed his waist. His eyes locked on her own so suddenly she felt her gut twist. "If it were me," he began murmuring, "No one would dare to even look at you. And if they did, I...They wouldn't live to see the next daylight."

"Couldn't be you though, could it?" She asked, begging her body to move as their noses touched. "I'm...It would never be you."

"No. No it couldn't be," he said, his breath fanning her chin. "Even if I was allowed to be seen with you, I would never want someone like you."

She closed her eyes when his lips were a hair away, the flesh tingling at the proximity. "Glad we can agree," she breathed out, "Even if you were the last person on earth, I would rather die than be seen by your side."

"Yeah?" He hummed, and she could feel his hair touching her forehead.

"Yeah," she whispered.

His lips, regrettably, brushed against her own. Their skin filled with electricity at the barely there collision, his fingers flexing through her hair. And just when he almost forgot himself, forgot who she was and went to yank her forward, a knock pounded on the classroom door.

Rosalie shoved him off of her as if her entire existence depended on him being far, far away.

"Miss Black," called Dumbledore, the witch bowing her head down and grasping onto the table for support. "If I could...have a word."

Draco turned his back to the headmaster, running hand over his face. His brain had never been so foggy, clouded with the dust of what just occurred.

"Okay," Draco heard Rosalie mutter. "We can, uh," she paused, "We can finish the potion tomorrow, Malfoy."

He grunted, waving her off without looking.

Draco may not believe in the Gods, but he prays for them to save him. Save him now. Save him in the future-from her.

She never did see Adrian that night.