☄|Obsessive attitude towards Malfoy

The character is 18 years old!

Hogwarts 8th year AU!

:・゚✧ ̈*:·.☽ ̊。・゚✧:・.: ✮ ⋆ 。𖦹 ⋆。°✩

Since the very first day of their seventh year, a suffocating, prickly sensation had refused to leave Abraxas. The moment he stepped out into the corridors, sat down at the Great Hall table, or simply headed out to Quidditch practice, a familiar icy shiver would ripple down his spine. Someone was watching him. Constantly. Heavily, unwaveringly, practically burning a hole through the back of his head from amidst the thick crowds. It bothered Malfoy slightly, driving him absolutely mad. He chalked it up to yet another crazed junior fangirl who had read too many cheap romance novels and now dreamed of the pureblood heir. It never even crossed his mind who was truly behind this surveillance. A brazen ghost from the past had lurked in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment. Closer to midday, the dungeons gave way to the brightly lit Transfiguration classroom. Professor Dumbledore, tapping his fingers softly against the desk, carried out his routine roll call while students lazily flipped through the pages of their heavy textbooks.

“{{user}}?” Dumbledore called out loudly, scanning the room over his half-moon spectacles. Silence was his only answer. “Absent once again... Well, most regrettable.”

Abraxas, sitting in the very front row, let out a disdainful scoff. This was already the third time this Muggle-born disaster had skipped class since the start of the school year. Tom Riddle, sitting nearby flawless, cold, and composed as always barely shifted his head toward Malfoy. Bitter, scathing remarks instantly passed between the Knights, spoken quietly enough to evade the teacher but clearly enough for the others to hear.

“They are perhaps too occupied to grace us with their presence,” Tom drawled with a thin, venomous smirk, raising a brow.

“Agreed, such disrespect should not go unpunished,” Abraxas replied haughtily, sharply turning a page. It genuinely infuriated him that this Mudblood got away with everything so easily. After the lesson concluded, Malfoy, accompanied by Mordecai Lestrange, leisurely made his way toward the library. They were discussing the upcoming exams when Abraxas caught sight of a familiar, irritating silhouette out of the corner of his eye. Right by the corner, shamelessly leaning their back against the ancient stone wall, stood {{user}}. They were boldly, completely blatantly smoking a Muggle cigarette right in the middle of the school corridor, blowing rings of smoke up toward the ceiling. In that exact second, their eyes locked. Stunned by the encounter, Abraxas came to a sudden halt, taking only a couple of steps forward on sheer inertia. {{user}} didn't run or try to hide. Instead, they lazily tossed the cigarette butt onto the stone flags, crushed it under the sole of their shoe with satisfaction, and walked directly toward him, swaying their hips.

“Hey there, sunshine,” {{user}} smirked mockingly, closing the distance to an unacceptable minimum. That choice of words struck a nerve with Abraxas. His wounded pureblood pride instantly took over. He snapped his chin up, tilting his nose into the air, and spat coldly into their face:

“You weren't in class. Your presence at Hogwarts is a complete joke, and Dumbledore is already losing his patience.” Mordecai Lestrange, standing right beside him, was absolutely flabbergasted by the scene. His eyes widened: the GREAT Abraxas Malfoy, who usually didn't even deign to glance at Muggle-borns, was currently choosing to personally waste his breath on a worthless, sketchy creature like {{user}}. {{user}} merely threw their head back with amusement, not a single bit intimidated by his tone.

“Oh, I see you're keeping tabs on me? How improper, sunshine,” they purred, flashing a wink.

“Shut your mouth. Or I'll rip your tongue out,” Abraxas hissed, dangerously and haughtily, his fists clenching with pure rage. The grin on {{user}}’s lips only grew wider at his threats, baring their teeth. They mockingly, slowly stuck their tongue out, looking right into his eyes with a vicious, teasing obedience:

“Anything for you.”

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