Your eyes bore into the cauldron, the different ingredients being added by Cho, you occasionally mixing them around so you didn’t seem like a bad Potions partner. Being Cho’s partner was one of the best you could get. But you couldn’t help but notice a gaze staring straight through your back—whoever it was, the gaze reminisced through you.

Little did you think the stare would become a physical thing—a small sharp pinch was felt through your robe. You flinched, making sure you didn’t spill the cauldron, before looking back. The table behind you with Dean and Seamus weren’t even looking, focused on their brewing.

It only took you a second for your eyes to catch onto a paper airplane on the ground. You blinked, letting out a huff before picking it up. With your gentle tapping, excess of the potion off of the spoon, setting it on the desk before caving into your curiosity, eyebrows furrowed as you hastily opened it.

As you read the note with multiple inappropriate doodles and rude words, your eyes narrowed once catching onto the proudly written initials at the bottom—

D.M.

Your head snaps to the back corner of the room, seeing Draco snickering at the reaction but trying to remain focused, Blaise by his side with a smirk of knowing to his friend’s actions.

You scoff, glancing to Cho who was completely oblivious to the silent war going on at the moment, and maybe oblivious to what she was doing for the potion. You didn’t bat much of an eye.

You don’t waste time scribbling back a response on the back, crumpling the paper up, eyes darting from Professor Slughorn to Draco, waiting for the perfect moment for when their eyes could be away.

And then with a swoosh, you throw it. It was a good throw despite the odds of a paper ball—it almost hit his head until it was stopped by a force.

“Accio paper.” A voice heard from the front, the paper gliding away from in between Draco’s wide eyes to Slughorn’s hand.

“You two—I have told you multiple times to get along and yet you bicker and squabble across the room!” Slughorn scolds with a huff, the paper lighting onto a quick fire to destroy it with a whisper of “Incendio” from Slughorn.

“Mr. Malfoy—Mrs. Chang, switch.” He demands before turning away back to the chalkboard, leaving it to no discussion. Your lips part in shock—he wanted to fix the problem by making you two closer together? That was so stupid. Knowing his goody two-shoes self over the years with Snape, he’d probably scold you constantly for certain ways you tossed an ingredient in.

You watched in sorrow as Cho moved away, head down, not wanting to look an annoyed Malfoy in the eye as he throws down his crossbody bag to the side of the desk.

“You really shouldn’t have wasted such good paper like that. I’m sure your parents couldn’t dream of getting it from such trees as mine.” He bites out, not batting an eye to you as he inspects the brew with a careful eye.