Filthy Little Secret - Draco x reader

13 - It came in the morning by owl

Draco and I don't have many things in common. Not at all actually. Except for one thing. The gift of occlumency. I never even realised it until this week. Or at least, I think he has it.

It's Friday afternoon and I've just had a full 3 hours of Transfiguration with Slytherin. We have assigned seats in that class and unfortunately, Draco's is about 5 feet to the right of mine.

If someone would tell anyone in that class that I've never spoken a word to Draco Malfoy, they'd totally believe it. We both act as if the other one doesn't exist. We act as if nothing is wrong.

It hasn't been too difficult for me. Ever since the conversation with Hermione, there was enough room to hide everything I was feeling. To talk like a normal person would do, to smile when I should and to talk about things that I really don't care about. And he does the same.

When we cross paths in the hallway, we turn our heads, we sit as far away from each other in the Great Hall as possible and we dodge any questions even remotely close to that subject. A mask that's put on until I can act normal without it, which might take a little while.

Of course, there is still this other option. The option that he really does not care whatsoever. That what happened on Monday didn't affect him at all. But I don't believe that. That cannot be true. Or at least, I don't let myself think that. I think I wouldn't be able to handle those thoughts.

There are little hints that make me believe that he did care at some point. The way he always looks away immediately when I look back. The way his jaw tenses when he can sense that I'm looking at him and the way he clenches his fists when we cross paths. They might still be creations of my mind. The mind has the ability to show you what you want to see. But because those little things are the only things that keep me from a full on break down, I'm hanging onto them for dear life.

It is now Saturday morning. I'm dragging Hermione to Hogsmeade since I have to get last minute Christmas presents. The others really haven't given me a choice and are dragging me with them for the holidays. Really, I'm thrilled to go with them and not be stuck in the castle, but I still feel kind of guilty, like I don't belong there. So that's why I've decided to get everyone gifts. To thank them for letting me join without knowing me that well.

I've packed my suitcase last night, so I have plenty of time today to find the perfect gifts.

"'Mione, I'll meet you here in half an hour, first I need to get your gift", I say, having the perfect present in mind.

"You really don't have to get me anything!" Hermione says, but I shake my head.

"Yes I do. You've been the best ever since I came to Hogwarts, that deserves a little thank you", I say. She smiles.

"Okay, see you here in half an hour."

I run toward Tomes and Scrolls as I look for my favorite muggle book. They don't have many, but they must have this one. It's a classic. I walks over to the very little cupboard of muggle books and look for the title Lord of the Flies. As soon as I find it a smile creeps on my face. It's a great novel and I'm sure Hermione will love it just as much.

I decide to also get her a book about healing spells, since she's recently taken an interest in that. Maybe not a bad idea if there really is a war coming.

My finger lingers on the cover of a new potions book. I know Draco would love that. I sigh and walk away from it. It doesn't matter.

I pay, wrap it with a bit of magic and meet back up with Hermione.

I get a box of prank sweets for Fred, fireworks for George, a shirt and a snapback of the Chudley Cannons for Ron (It's his favorite Quidditch team), a Remembrall for Harry, a discman for Mr Weasley, since I've heard he's a huge fan of muggle artifacts, and an apron with matching oven gloves for Ms Weasley. Lastly I buy Ginny a necklace with an enchanted gemstone that changes colour depending on your mood. I am quite happy with my gifts and ever so excited to spend my holiday at the Order.