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The divination classroom was cloaked in its usual haze of thick, perfumed incense, the soft murmurs of students blending with the occasional rustle of teacups and saucers. The atmosphere was heavy and mysterious, exactly the kind of place where secrets could slip beneath the surface unnoticed.
Pansy sat beside Draco at their shared table, swirling the remnants of tea leaves in her cup, though her attention was far from the lesson. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as her hand, hidden beneath the table and shielded by the long tablecloth, trailed slowly over Draco’s thigh.
He stiffened immediately, shooting her a sharp glance out of the corner of his eye.
“Pansy,” he hissed under his breath, his voice low enough for only her to hear.
But that only made her grin widen. Her fingers grazed higher, pressing deliberately over the growing hardness beneath his trousers.
“Relax,” she whispered, her eyes staying on the swirling tea leaves in front of her as she worked open his belt with practiced ease, tugging his trousers down just enough to free his cock. “No one’s paying attention.”
Draco’s breath stilled in his chest as she wrapped her hand around him, stroking him lazily beneath the table. His jaw clenched, and his grip tightened around the delicate porcelain teacup in his hand, his knuckles white as he exhaled slowly through his nose.
The room was dim, lit only by flickering candles, and the thick incense made it hard to see clearly, even from a few feet away. The perfect cover.
But Pansy didn’t make it easy.
Her strokes were slow, agonizingly so, as she teased him beneath the table. Draco shifted in his seat, trying to keep his breathing even, his other hand curling into a fist in his lap to keep from grabbing her wrist and stopping her entirely.
He seriously considered it, but the thrill of getting a handjob in class, the sensation of her warm, soft hand, made it impossible to stop her.
“You’re awfully tense,” she mused softly, her tone innocent, though the mischief in her eyes betrayed her.
Draco narrowed his eyes but said nothing.
He did well at first, keeping his expression carefully neutral, even as her hand moved with infuriating precision. But then her thumb brushed over the head of his cock, applying the faintest pressure, and a low, involuntary sound slipped from his throat.
It was quiet, but not quiet enough.
Professor Trelawney’s head snapped up from across the room, her wide, misty eyes narrowing behind her enormous glasses.
“Mr. Malfoy?” she called out, her voice curious as she floated toward their table, the long beads around her neck rattling softly with every step. “Did you… see something?”
Draco’s eyes widened for half a second, and Pansy’s hand stilled beneath the table, but her grip didn’t loosen.
“I—” Draco cleared his throat, struggling to find his composure.
“Your expression,” Trelawney pressed, leaning closer now as she peered down at the teacup in his hand. “A glimpse of the beyond, perhaps? Something… tragic?”
Pansy bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, but she didn’t stop what she was doing, even as Trelawney hovered beside him.
Draco nearly jolted but masked it by shifting his cup in front of him, angling it away. “No,” he managed, voice clipped. “Just—just a bit of a headache, Professor. The incense is a little… overwhelming.”
Professor Trelawney leaned back, sighing in disappointment at the loss of potential foresight.
But Pansy, ever the actress, leaned toward him, furrowing her brow with just the right amount of worry to look convincing. “Draco,” she whispered, loud enough for Trelawney to hear. “You should tell her. It seemed serious.”
His head snapped toward her, his glare promising retribution, but her hand squeezed lightly around him, and he nearly choked on the spot.
Trelawney’s eyes gleamed with curiosity as she peered at him, mistaking his strained expression for one of burdened foresight.
“What did you see, dear boy?” she pressed, her voice soft but insistent.
Pansy’s strokes grew lazier, trailing up and down his length beneath the table, and Draco clenched his jaw so tightly it ached. He scrambled to think of anything, anything that could justify the noises slipping past his lips.
“I… saw Potter,” Draco forced out through gritted teeth, his hips twitching against Pansy’s grip. Potter. That’s the only thing he could think of right now.
Trelawney’s eyes widened as she leaned in closer.
“Harry Potter?” she echoed, her voice dropping dramatically. One thing Draco and Trelawney shared was their mutual obsession with Potter facing misfortune.
Draco nodded stiffly, barely able to focus with Pansy’s fingers teasing him toward the edge, precum pooling beneath her touch.
“Yes. He’s—he’s in trouble. Bad trouble,” Draco managed, his breath hitching in the middle of his sentence as Pansy’s thumb flicked over the sensitive tip again.
“Oh dear,” Trelawney murmured, clutching at the shawl around her shoulders. “What sort of trouble, Mr. Malfoy? What did you see?”
Draco swallowed hard, barely able to suppress the whimper that escaped him as Pansy started squeezing lightly.
“Something… dark,” Draco breathed out, struggling to string words together. “He’s probably already… doomed.”
His breath hitched again, and he winced, realizing how pathetic he sounded.
But to his dismay, Trelawney mistook his pained expression for compassion.
“Ah, such empathy,” she said softly, placing a hand over her heart. “Your heart aches for him, doesn’t it? I can hear it in your voice.”
Pansy bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, her hand still merciless beneath the table.
“I—” Draco’s voice broke off in a barely-contained groan as Trelawney patted his shoulder gently.
“There, there,” she soothed. “Sometimes, the Sight brings painful truths. It’s a heavy burden to carry.”
Draco could hardly breathe as the professor finally turned and drifted away. The second her back was to them, he released a sharp exhale. His orgasm hitting him hard and sudden.
His head dipped slightly, lips parting as he came in Pansy’s hand, his thighs trembling beneath the table.
From behind, Theo, who had been casually watching the exchange, leaned forward, poking Draco lightly in the shoulder with the tip of his wand.
“Bit fast, don’t you think?” Theo smirked, his voice just loud enough for Draco to hear.
Draco didn’t lift his head, glaring at Theo from beneath pale strands of hair.
“Shut it,” Draco muttered, still catching his breath.
Meanwhile, Pansy calmly wiped her hand on a napkin, lifting her teacup with a satisfied little smile as if nothing had happened.