I Don't Lie {Draco Malfoy}{26} Sensibility Out Of Chaos; Or Vice Versa

“How did I know you’d be out here?” Rem asked, stepping slowly, but relatively carelessly down towards the dock that hung out a few yards into the lake. Her foot took a misstep and her arms stretched out so she’d keep her balance, pausing for a moment to make sure she wouldn’t go careening out over the thin ice.

“Probably because you saw me, then followed the footprints.” He responded, looking back at her. When he turned his gaze back on the lake, he rolled his eyes at her clumsiness, so she wouldn’t see.

“How could you-” She began.

“It’s not as if I don’t know the Gryffindor common room overlooks the path down here.” He remarked. “Not after those Weasley twins were jinxing snowballs to fly at the tower’s windows all day-”

“So this was your plan?” She came to a halt a couple yards behind him.

“Not exactly,” He replied, “Though it worked well, didn’t it?”

“I suppose.” She said noncommittally, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets. “What was it you wanted?”

He looked out at the near-frozen lake, spotted here and there with patches that exposed a bit of the dark, cold waters beneath. It was finally chilly enough that Rem didn’t want to be outside. It didn’t seem as cold as she was used to during this time of year, though, so of that she was thankful.

Not liking him facing away from her, she picked her way closer to the shore, stopping beside him.

“Your grandparents, too?” He prompted.

“A couple years ago.” She answered.

“Don’t like to talk about that one, either?” He inquired.

“If you haven’t noticed,” She said, “People don’t generally enjoy talking about those who’ve died.”

His eyes were still taking in the surface of the lake, not turning towards her. “Generally.”

“What’s with the attitude?” She asked harshly, shooting him a look. “You’re the one who wanted to talk to me.”

“I don’t have an attitude, Remington.” He shot back, meeting her eyes. She saw that what she’d mistaken for irritation before was actually a sort of measured indifference.

“Alright then.” She muttered, turning away from him to walk out on the dock, gazing at the massive ring of shore that surrounded the lake, the trees that lined the opposite side. Her steps creaked against the old, weathered wooden planks. She looked down when she reached the end, wondering how thick the ice was beneath the lip of the dock.

“I wouldn’t try.” Draco called from behind her. “I’ll tell you now that I won’t go fishing for you when you break through.”

She glanced over her shoulder, “What makes you think I wanted to step out on it?”

“You’re a Gryffindor. It’d just be like you to do something stupid like that.” He replied.

“Right.” She set her jaw, turning her eyes back up to the lake.

The dock groaned behind her as Draco made his way to the end as well. “Those words- on your ankle,” He began.

“Yes. Memorials.” She broke in, “It made me feel better and I knew it’d piss my mother off.”

“So you got tattoos?” He prompted, somewhat disbelieving, somewhat contemptuous.

“Nothing else seemed good enough.” She murmured. “Permanent enough.”

“Because defiling your body is the only thing that was good enough.” He remarked under his breath.

“You know,” She said, the irritation in her voice plain, “The things I do, you don’t need to approve.”

“I don’t need to-”

“What is this to you?” She hissed, turning on him, her eyes narrow and judging. “One moment you’re all dissent- then another you’re quiet, and dare I say thoughtful. And what about Saturday-”

“What about Saturday?” He snapped back at her, eyeing her with slight derision.

“No, really,” She pronounced, removing her hands from her pockets and propping them on her hips. “What about Saturday? Is it some sort of game to you?” She demanded, “Because, if it is, I forfeit. I’m done.”

“I don’t see what you’re insinuating.” He retorted.

“I’m not insinuating anything.” She hissed, “I’m telling it like it is.”

“Considering I’m not sure what you’re talking about-”

“You can’t just-” She said, obviously getting worked up, “Kiss me and act like it never happened!” His eyebrows arched and she finally had enough, whirling and heading back down the dock at a brisk pace.

“So now you’re going to stomp off like a romantically challenged ten-year-old?” She could hear his pursuit, though much more casual than her attempted retreat.

She spun around, “Don’t- even-” She caught herself on her words, not sure how to object. “I don’t love you! I’d hardly call it-”

“You don’t have to.” He interrupted her, looking quite calm compared to her indignation. She resisted a blush, regretting what’d come out of her mouth. “Either way, it doesn’t matter, does it? You’re done, aren’t you?”

She was tempted to just turn around and head back up to the castle rather than keep arguing and likely say more that she’d wish she hadn’t. Though, he’d only take that as a victory for himself, and she could hardly afford that. “You’re vile.”

A slight smirk pulled at his lips, “I’m a Slytherin.”

“I suppose it only makes sense.” With a relatively collected, cool tone and expression, “The undesirable ones all get thrown into their own house.” With that, she turned her back before he could respond and immediately started to weave her way away from the lake.

Behind her she heard him repeat, “Undesirable?”