Hey! I just want to warn you, this is not the traditional Malfoy turns good story. He is a coward, and he is a jerk. But I wanted to challenge myself and see if I could make him fall in love with someone he hates. To add some spice, this takes place in the sixth book, so Draco's going through some tough times. But anyway, read, review, and enjoy!
My robe was wrinkled, but it was the only one clean, so it would have to do. My silver and green tie had a huge crease going down the middle, but I pulled it over my head anyway, vowing silently to iron it the next chance I got. As I looked in the mirror, I saw the familiar Slytherin scowl settling on my lips. There were three expressions I had picked up like fleas during my six years at Hogwarts: the scowl, the sneer, and the smirk. They seemed to seep into everything I did, no matter how hard I tried to fight it.
I had been shunned my first year, which probably should have stunted my growth as a Slytherin girl. Unfortunately, it hadn't. It seemed to make me even more bitter then my Housemates. To begin, I was American, and not very well off. I was also Muggle-born. My golden-red hair clashed violently with the Slytherin colors, and I had heard many times that I would look better as a Gryffindor. My sea-green eyes were the only part of me that didn't look terrible. I had attracted the attention of Draco Malfoy, the top Slytherin, almost the minute I had walked through the door. Even seventh years had quickly learned to respect or fear him. His best and only comeback seemed to be "My father will hear about this," but it was sufficient. He called me Mudblood instead of using my name, which I had gotten used to and now barely even noticed. Malfoy himself, of course, was a pureblood, and looked down on me because of my Muggle-born status. In the second year he had relented a bit, and that seemed to be a signal for the others to accept me as one of their own, however grudgingly. However, the entire House still made me constantly aware that I was not on their level. Sighing, I trudged down to the dining hall.
Breakfast ensued per usual. I sat on the end of the table, at least a foot away from the next Slytherin, and watched idly as Draco Malfoy and his idiotic companions, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, made fun of Harry Potter. Potter was a Gryffindor, and Malfoy had what seemed to be a driven-in hatred for the other boy. Potter had almost destroyed Voldemort, the terror of the wizarding world, a few times, and Malfoy had claimed many times to be one of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's dreaded followers. This wild claim greatly enhanced his popularity with the other Slytherins. Among his avid followers was Pansy Parkinson. I stirred my oatmeal disgustedly. She was a pug-faced girl with short, dark-brown hair, and she jealously warded off other girls. Malfoy had the tendency to be somewhat of a player, especially since his fourth year, and many girls had for some reason developed huge crushes on him. Parkinson was the only girl Malfoy ever paid positive attention to, although he enjoyed crushing other girls' hopes. Even Parkinson, however, couldn't keep his interest. This year he had been downright ignoring her, and even though it had only been two months, I could see the Slytherin girl getting desperate.
Taking a last bite of my toast, I slid down the bench and left the table, tearing my eyes away from Malfoy's smug features. I couldn't deny his good looks, although it would have been much easier to completely hate him if he were ugly. My first period was free, but that didn't really mean I had nothing to do. The library called, and I responded eagerly.
The dark, paper-y smelling room was a perfect sanctuary for my thoughts. Diving my nose into my book, I pretended to read while my mind drifted. I had barely understood Muggle Studies homework… And forget about Potions, but Snape did favor Slytherins…
"Mudblood." A sharp drawl cut through my fog of thought. "Move. This is my seat."
I rolled my eyes, snapping, "Shove it, Malfoy." I was not in the mood to be bullied into giving up one seat out of a hundred unoccupied ones. Malfoy's lackey stepped forward menacingly, and I frowned. I was also not in the mood to become a punching bag for Crabbe and Goyle. Shoving my seat back, I smirked as the hard backing drove into Crabbe's stomach. The ugly boy wheezed and I strutted away, eager to get out of the library as fast as possible. Bumping Malfoy out of my way with a shoulder, I broke into a run.
I only made it a few feet beyond the door before Malfoy grabbed my arm and halted me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see hatred and rage twisting his handsome features. "Mudblood!" he called, spitting the word out like he was saying 'Harry Potter.' I did not turn around, afraid that if I saw his face I would punch him.
"That's not my name." I winced as I heard my voice, deadly quiet, echo down the hall. No one was anywhere near us, and the library door was solid oak and soundproof. I was so dead.
"If the cloak fits…" I could hear the sneer in his voice. "You're a filthy Mudblood. I bet that's why your Muggle mother dumped you in an orphanage… you were too ugly and too much of a shame, even for her…"
"Shut up." My voice had gone wickedly low, almost a whisper. Turning slowly on my heel, I came face-to-face with the smirking blonde.
"No wonder she abandoned you." He looked me up and down. "Even your Muggle mum realized what a freak you are-"
My fist came flying up almost of its own accord and slammed into Malfoy's cheek. Pain and surprise flitted across his steel grey eyes as he stumbled backward. At that moment, Crabbe and Goyle came lumbering out of the library. Their eyes widened when they took in my bloody fist and Malfoy's bloody nose. Moving faster then I knew they could, they had quickly pinned my arms behind my back. Malfoy staggered forward, his fist rising, but my foot flashed up and struck him on the cheekbone. Almost instantly, a gratifyingly large blue-and-black pool spread across his cheek. "Bloody hell," he spat.
"Why are you even talking to me about family issues?" I said, fighting the two goons holding my arms. "It isn't as if you have the world's greatest family. You're dad is in Azkaban, your mom is Merlin knows where…" One of the cronies elbowed me in the stomach, but gasping, I plowed on. "And not to mention that the Malfoy heir boasts of being in cahoots with the most evil and twisted wizard known to society as of yet, but won't even punch his own victim…"
"Shut up," Malfoy snapped. His breathing was loud and harsh, his face twisted with hatred. "When the Dark Lord rises, I will make sure you are the first of the Mudbloods to die." Scowling, he turned away, striding quickly away from me towards the hospital wing. His minions shoved me against the wall, then lumbered after him.
A seventh year girl with long blonde hair and big blue eyes rushed up to me. She was wearing the Hufflepuff colors. "Are you alright?" she asked, helping me up from where I was slumped against the wall. I nodded, tucking my hair behind my ears.
"Yeah, I'm good."
What'd ya think? No, I really want to know. In fact, I'm going to be really mean to my readers right here and say I want to know so bad that I won't post another chapter until I get ten reviews. Yes, I know, unfair, but it is achievable. The thing that is making me do this is that I have 2,026 visitors to one of my stories, but only nineteen reviews. And it's ticking me off, so wa-la. This is the outcome. Sorry people, but this seems like the only way to get other peoples' opinions! So tell your friends, tell your family… Thanks! (And pie for anyone who reviews.)