The next of the day, Grace kept her distance from Ron, not knowing if they officially broke up or not. Eventually, her and Draco ended up in the library once again.
“Do you mind getting that book I asked for the other day? I want to finish my essay…” Grace asked once she brought out her charmed quill.
“Sure,” Draco laughed, he was very grateful for some time alone, “just don’t start ignoring me once I get back.”
“I won’t, no worries.”
Draco got up and left Grace at the table to find the requested book. Drumming her fingers on the table, she was startled when a familiar voice appeared out of nowhere.
“She used to do that too…” Ron chuckled nearby.
“Excuse me?” Grace asked after she got over her initial shock.
“Hermione…she used to tap her fingers like that.”
“Oh.” She heard Ron sit in Draco’s seat. “May I help you?”
“Can’t a bloke stop by to say hi to a girl?”
“I don’t see why not…” Grace responded. She then heard him switch seats and occupy the chair beside her.
Ron planted a long kiss on his Grace’s lips, “We’ve barely talked the last two days. And you look like you needed that.” He captured her lips again, “I’m glad to help.”
Grace backed away in disgust, “Ronald, please, now is not an appropriate time.”
“Don’t stop me now babe, I’m just getting started.” Ron then grabbed her hands in one of his own, and trailed his second hand slowly up her right leg.
“Ron, stop it.” Grace pleaded as his hand was rising higher and higher. The redhead took her lips again, and she let out a muffled scream.
“You fucking bastard.” Draco hissed as he grabbed the boy’s collar. He then proceeded to pick him out of his chair, and throw the boy on the library carpet. “You’re a disgusting excuse for a man.”
The blonde turned towards a gasping Grace, “Are you okay?”
“What the hell do you think your doing?” Ron grunted as he picked himself up. The boy was still sore from all the hexes the male Zabini had thrown at him.
“Don’t treat her like that,” Draco seethed, his anger taking full control of his body.
“Why would you care? She was clearly enjoying it!!” Ron began to yell.
That was the last straw; Draco could see from Grace’s horrified face that she did not enjoy a second of the Weasel’s actions, and considering the marks the boy had left on her, he wanted to bash his face in. “Listen Weasel-”
Grace could practically feel the anger in the air, so she grabbed Draco’s wrist in desperation. “Draco, don’t,” Grace subconsciously rubbed her thumb against the back of his wrist in a comforting way, “Ron…I did ask you stop.”
She heard the redhead let out a disturbed gasp, “So you really didn’t want it?” Grace nodded her head. “You could’ve told me we were going too fast-”
“Leave. We need to get work done, and you’re breaking the concentration she needs to finish her essay.” Draco interrupted, his anger still showing through his words.
“Who says I have to listen to you, Ferret?” Ron demanded.
Grace whispered as tears began to form in her eyes, “I can’t do this anymore. Just go Ronald.” With another large grunt, she knew the redhead was gone.
“Are you okay?” Draco repeated.
“Yeah…I am.” Grace trembled as she attempted to recollect her calm state. The girl let out a frustrated sigh as she rubbed her lips against her sleeve and smoothed out her parchment.
Draco set the book aside and sat down, waiting until it was an appropriate time to talk. He was beating himself on the inside for not coming back sooner. Had he known the Weasel would be there, he would’ve tried more physical ways of getting his point across. He made a promise to her, although she wasn’t conscious to hear it, and he didn’t keep to it. But next time he would, Draco was sure of that. “Why do you put up with pricks like him? ” He finally asked, breaking the awkward silence. Draco began to get out his Divination homework.
Grace looked up from setting up her work, “Ronald is a terrific wizard.” She set down her enchanted quill, “I know him. He isn’t normally like this.”
Draco stopped writing and set down his quill as well, “I bet you do.”
Noting the thick sarcasm in his voice, Grace decided to add to the fire, “What exactly do you mean by that?”
“How can you claim to know a person so well and still guarantee they aren’t usually like this? You weren’t here but Weasley has pretty much shagged half of Gryffindor. It’s bloody disgusting! And especially after he’s treated you!”
Grace crossed her arms, an argument he wanted, an argument he would get. “Everyone has grey colors in their past, Draco.”
“He just threw himself at you! If I hadn’t come into the sodding situation you could’ve been hurt! He’s done it before!”
“Ron isn’t like this! He never would or do such a thing!”
“Is that what you read in his bloody folder?!!!”
Grace sat back in defeat, “What?”
“Is that what you read in his god damn folder?!”
“You think I don’t know? You have more information about us than I know about my own family! I know how you Zabinis work…you use your oh-so-precious magical insignia to get under all of our skin. You lot use them to your advantage and it bloody well works doesn’t it?!”
“What are you going on about?!”
“You read about the Weasleys and you immediately know everything there is to know. You know how he works, you know how he thinks, what he likes, his worst fears, everything. You know how to please him. Yet, not once in that god forsaken file does it say ‘I treat women like shite’. That is something he clearly does, but yet you won’t believe it because it’s not inscribed on a damn piece of magical parchment!!” Draco collapsed back into his chair, choosing to put an end to the fight.
Grace remained silent and turned her face away to ward off the water in her tear ducts. After a minute or two of silence she whispered just loud enough to hear, “I have never used my family’s gifts for my own benefit…”
Draco just regained control of his breathing the same time Grace found the courage to talk. Swiftly picking up his quill and writing several words on his Divination parchment, he let out a large sigh. “I believe you haven’t, but your family is guilty of it I assure you.”
At this point Grace really wished she could see, mainly because it was so difficult to understand Draco’s emotions by only his voice. She didn’t know if he sounded sincere, angry, or sad. “I won’t argue with that,” she said, knowing her father could be liable for such a statement.
The two of them worked independently for an hour or so, Draco occasionally reading a passage or two from a nearby textbook to provide Grace with evidence. After a good bit of time Draco was processing many things in his mind at once. Still continuing his essay, he nonchalantly mumbled, “Might as well burn mine…”
Grace stopped talking to her enchanted quill when she heard Draco’s statement. “Burn what?”
The blonde in question looked up in surprise as he realized what he said. Might as well fulfill the young woman’s curiosity… “My folder. Burn my folder.”
“Why would I do that?” Grace’s eyes widened at the boy’s confidence. The portfolios she had gone through, (granted she had only read two) were some of the most accurate, interesting compositions she had ever had the opportunity to decipher. The cruelty of burning such a valuable structure was almost heart wrenching for her. The next short words made Grace stumble into both a terrified and stunned state.
“Soon there will be nothing in it.”