Disclaimer: All rights etc. go to J. K. Rowling for creating the Harry Potter world and needless to say, the devilishly handsome Draco Malfoy with his snide remarks and girlish screams. Because hoestly, how could we get through the films without him being there to juice up the script? ;P And, apart from getting that out of the road, I have nothing else to say except....let's get on with the show!
The rain beat against the window, the tumbling expanses of fields beyond in the distance little more than blurry clumps of green through the water studded glass. The rhythmical lull of the rain pattering against the train pulled at my eyelids, Annie's excited shrieks the only reason how I managed to keep from falling into the abyss of sleep.
And the occasional snore that would grunt itself passed the ever-classy, Pansy Parkinson's lips.
"Holy Cricket! -she didn't!" Annie cried, throwing a hand against her chest, eyes boasting shock behind her red, jewel studded - and lens free - cat eye spectacles. Bless her and her Rita Skeeter obsession.
"I'm telling you, she did. And at it like a pair of garden gnomes too if you don't mind," Daphne Greengrass added with a dignified expression, nose held high and mouth sculpted into a disapproving frown.
I blinked and turned to fix her with a look. "Did you just say?-"
"Ooooooh! I can imagine it all ready can't you Daphne darling?" Annie spluttered cutting my question short and looking at the red headed Slytherin with the deepest of earnest. "First page news no less of course - Millicent Bullstrode - femme fatale after all? Vincent Crabbe, The Hogwarts new Don Juan? Or no!" Her hands flew out from her body in a rush of excitement. I snorted as she karate-chopped Greengrass in the forehead.
"I have it! . . .oh sorry darling - the X-Rated Happenings of the Broom Cupboard: Draco Malfoy, watch out! There's a new Don Juan about!"
". . .,"
"Yes, yes, fabulous I think for first inspirations," Annie spoke to nobody in particular as she whipped out her little black book with a deft flick of her hand and began to mutter hurried words to her quill, which began to dart across the parchment with it's seemingly own accord.
Anastasia Clementine, the blond, big haired twit muttering to herself (and who also happened to be my best friend) usually engaged in such peculiarities. She was an aspiring journalist, editor of the successful Slytherin Gazette (reading numbers had went up from two people to three in the past month - though regarding a ferret as a probable 'reader' might've been a bit generous of me) and so was often struck with sudden ideas that just needed to be put down on paper. Or at least, that was what she had said after Professor Hagrid had confronted her about her letting go of the Blast Ended Skrewt, Tobi's, leash in Care of Magical Creatures and letting it sludge after Neville Longbottom for the whole period whilst she preached heatedly to her notebook about Marcus Flint's socks (though apparently they had been lilac and sporting the most unusual stitching of house elves in tutus).
Parkinson let out a grunt beside me and shifted on the seat. I eyed her warily as her head drew nearer to my body and my eyes widened, panicking, as I discerned her intentions. Oh, like hell am I gonna let her drool all over me!
Back pushed as far into the wall as was humanly possible, I felt extremely cornered. My eyes fleeted over to the Annie, but she was completely unbeknownst to my impending situation spouting Merlin knows what and Greengrass was scourging her nails with a moody, crumpled faced expression - not that she would've helped me if she'd have noticed.
I looked back at the approaching head, saw clearly the sausage lipped trap wide enough to catch flies, the pool of drool collecting at the corner of the girl's mouth. My chin pulled back in disgust. Merlin was that unattractive.
But then suddenly, with the swish of the compartment door, my focus was stolen. And the object of my distraction was not anymore welcome than the drooling pug's advances.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here?"
My lip performed a curl, a customary reaction of mine when I looked at hideous things (that and Parkinson had finally found my shoulder). That voice, a drawl thickened with it's sense of superiority and fresh depth, crawled along my skin like the hairy legs of a spider, each little black hair sprouting from the spindly limbs tending to each of my nerve-endings.
He had grown taller over the summer, finally hitting - maybe surpassing - the six foot mark, the dark cloth of his trousers fitting snugly around the swell of muscles tightening his long, lean legs. The grey jumper he wore hid the crisp white of his shirt, but with the nub of his green tie loosened and the top buttons of his shirt left unbuttoned, a pale chest peaked out, a glimpse of which told of many long, hard nights spent playing Quidditch. His face, moulded with sharp lines and edges, was coloured an unearthly white as though the sun never grasped the opportunity to kiss it and marred by that damn, dratted smirk.
Not that I was looking or anything.
"Oh, Draco. . ." Greengrass purred with a flutter of her eyelashes, finally diverted from her manicure. "What a pleasant surprise."
I snorted, and it grunted throughout the compartment earning me the attention of two pairs of eyes. Oops, that was louder than I'd intended.
"I see you're still as feminine as always Winterbourne," Malfoy said, turning to me. "Overlooking the whole," his fingers fluttered above his top lip. "Moustache thing of course."
I glared, clenching my hand and ignoring the tingle in my fingers as they tried to jump up to hide my top lip from further Malfoy scrutinising.
"Hilarious. Now, what do you want trollface?"
Despite the insult, (though it was pretty tame - okay pathetic) he smirked and took his time in answering, relaxing his shoulder into the door frame and crossing one foot over the other, digging the butt of his shoe into the floor. His eyes swallowed the fact that Pansy was drooling spittle over my shoulder with a malevolent glint, the corner of his thin lips pulling upwards. He straightened the front of his jumper, adjusting it apparently and I caught, as I rolled my eyes, from under the emblem of the Slytherin serpent, a glint of green. A badge.
My stomach dropped when my eyes unearthed the large 'C' imprinted on it in silver.
The Slytherin Quidditch Captain badge.
Malfoy caught my line of sight and smirked. I had found exactly what I was supposed to. "You like it Winterbourne?" he asked, looking down at the badge. "Arrived just two days ago - mother and father were so proud. Apparently I was the best to apply, but I suppose. . ." he smirked if possible, more pompously than before, and lifted a hand towards himself. "You can't argue with perfection."
His words were but a jumbled blur to my ears. All I could focus on was the badge attached to his jumper, the badge that by right, should've been mine. He…he had gotten the position? But, but…why on Earth would they choose him? My mind glanced back to the morning two weeks past when I had received my Hogwarts letter. The disheartening tug at discovering it to be an empty envelope, crawled up my throat like an recurring vomit.
". . .Get anything yourself?"
His words were sly and as slippery as a snake's skin, innocent sounding to somebody who knew no better. But I did. And the mockery in his tone and eyes fed my anger and frustration to the extent that my fingers burned against the bed of my palm, caged by my lessening resolve to avoid an angry outburst.
Why did he get it?
Why does he always get it?
Annie, who had finally noticed the compartment's new arrival, stopped her muttering and shot me a concerned glance. I barely noticed.
"Hmm. . .I'll take that as a no then," he drawled. I could hear the jeer riddled through his words and clenched my fist harder.
"But yes, now that I think about it, I'm sure mother mentioned that you had applied for captain. . ." He had the indecency to appear as though he were thinking. "Oh well, nobody will think ill of you I suppose. You were up against me after all."
My fingers were really beginning to hurt now. Oh Merlin, please, erase this rodent from my life.
"But, you never know," he continued, leaning forward with something akin to excitement glittering in his eyes, "if you play your cards right I could always make you mascot."
I surged to my feet, sending the snoring Pansy flying into the other wall and set narrowed eyes upon his openly mocking set. My clenched fist was trembling in Annie's fingers as she latched onto it. "I'll tell you where you can shove your offer you stupid blonde -"
"Draco baby?"
I stalled, hearing the breathless whisper. Was that -? I swung round and found the dark haired girl lying askew on the couch, blinking up at Malfoy with a dazed expression. It really did seem that she had clouds of love hearts circling around her head. I looked back at Malfoy, who was no longer oozing as much cool as he had two seconds ago and shot him a delighted smile. Strangely enough, he didn't reciprocate.
The pug jumped to her feet, pushing me aside as she did so and threw out her arms ready to embrace the blonde leaning against the door. "DRACO BABY! IT IS YOU!" Malfoy's eyes bulged as the girl ran for him, and with a squeak dived promptly to the ground. I sniggered as he sprung right back up - on the opposite side of the room mind you - cheeks a beacon of pink and one hand shooting to his shirt collar to fluff it up, the other darting through his shock of blonde hair.
"Draco, are you alright?" Greengrass asked, leaning forward, eyes wide in the fear that the self-pronounced Slytherin god had hurt his precious jewels. Whereas, people with a bit of milk in their coconut (I honoured myself to be in that category) were wetting their little panties with laughing.
"You didn't see that," he hurried, smoothing down his robes now with a wild look in his eye. "Understood?"
"Draco baby? Where'd you go?" Pansy blundered back into the room, for the momentum of her run had carried her straight on into the corridor outside and her avid eyes locked on Malfoy. She grinned. "Shnookums, there you are!"
Malfoy shivered, face pulling in disgust. Guess he didn't appreciate the pet name. Pansy's mouth opened to gush out more pathetic and undignified words I suspected, but she was cut over by yet another person.
How many more were to come?!
"Malfoy." I looked up at the deep grunt. There standing by Twit Senior's side stood Vincent Crabbe, Malfoy's bodyguard/lackey/Twit Junior I.
"Oh well if it wasn't the hormonal caveman," I greeted with a smile. Crabbe's face reddened and he shuffled closer to Malfoy. It was only then that I noticed the ball of fluff nestled in his arms.
"P.P!" I cried, leaping forward and snatching him from Crabbe into my arms. "I was wondering where you got to!" I gave him a quick once-over, checking for injury. Malfoy was very much known to dislike my one-eyed tabby cat, Prince Peregrine because of the small matter of finding a one week overdue Transfiguration homework covered in muddy cat prints. Stupid git shouldn't have left it out in the first place I'd argued to Professor Snape that night after the nitwit had went to the Head of House to try and get the tabby evicted, only to receive the biggest death glare imaginable courtesy of Mr. Malfoy.
I swear on Merlin, if I hadn't been wearing my fluffy yellow dressing gown and dragon pompom slippers, I would have frozen from the chill of his gaze.
""Yes, P.P,"" Malfoy snarled, lip curling contemptuously. "That bloody cat nearly clawed my leg off I'll have you know. If my father wasn't so busy with the Ministry, then I can assure you that he would be receiving an owl from me about that dratted beast!" I rolled my eyes and snuggled back into the seat with Prince Peregrine purring against my chest. I'd have to remember to give him a few extra treats later for being such a defensive, anti-Malfoy little kitten.
"Malfoy, you're being a drama queen. P.P can't even scar!"
"Better bloody not!" Malfoy exclaimed, lifting his trouser leg to show a fine set of red scratches, some deeper than others carved into his muscled calf. There was a sharp intake of breath from Pansy and Daphne (Anastasia was too preoccupied with the pumpkin pasty she had found in the pile of sweets by my side - it had to be said, she was a sucker for a pasty), both at the cobweb of cuts but more I suspected at having a glimpse of muscle - bunched skin. And not just any muscle - bunched skin, but 'Draco Malfoy's!'
"Got to have this body in tip top condition for the ladies," he added with a smirk leaning backwards against the doorframe again and crossing his arms. He too, had noticed the girl's excitement.
I barfed internally. "Oh yes. Can't have Crabbe here taking your title of man - whore now can we?" I said. His eyes flashed.
"Why you -"
"Malfoy." A big, burly boy with hair cut so short it was like a shadow across his head appeared by the tall Slytherin's shoulder. Malfoy's voice was nothing short of snippy as he addressed his second disciple, Goyle aka. Twit II. "What?"
"The littluns got away. . ."
"Oh for Merlin's sake. Are you that incompetent? They were tiny! Even Pansy here could've bested them!" I looked over to the black haired girl. Her chest was swelling with pride. . .or, at least I hoped it was pride and not her showcasing those mosquito bites of hers.
Goyle looked crestfallen, much like a dog in trouble would put its tail between its legs and whimper until its owner petted it again. "So am I correct in assuming that you didn't get the food then?" The boy shook his head. Malfoy sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. . ." His eyes flickered to the small pile of sweets by my side. "I believe we already have a stash anyway." I caught onto his train of thought very quickly.
"Oh no you don't!" I cried, springing forward to sling a protective arm around the pile. Prince Peregrine sprang from my chest onto Pansy Parkinson's. I'm not too sure who was more disgusted: Pansy or the tabby. "Now, now Winterbourne. Sharing is only polite."
I laughed pleasantly. "Yeah, you would know about that wouldn't you," I said cheerfully, tilting my head to the side. "I mean, you share your bed with. . .how many is it now?" Malfoy smirked, waggling a finger at me.
"A true gentleman never tells."
I rolled my eyes. Prat. The infamous smirk curled, if possible, even more when he realised I wouldn't retaliate. I hated it when that happened.
Outside in the corridor, a tinny female voice sounded: 'Is it on?! Is it on?!" and at the bellow of the driver's "For last bloody time, yes!" continued, "Now, students you will be arriving at Hogsmeade station in a few minutes time. Please, start preparing for your departure."
Malfoy looked over his shoulder into the corridor then turned back to me with a wolfish grin.
"Well, it really has been a pleasure ladies - oh, and you too Winterbourne - but I really must be off. I forgot to mention it but there is a delightful specimen of a girl waiting for me a few carriages down and well, I hate to disappoint."
He turned to leave, shooing for Crabbe and Goyle to follow when, just as he was nearly out the door he rushed back in hand stretched ready to snatch a handful of my sweets. Idiot. Prince Peregrine - he was a slightly unstable kitten it had to be said (Merlin bless him) - pounced from Pansy's arms with a hysterical screech, his one eye shooting around wildly, claws full out and ready to embed themselves into some juicy Malfoy flesh. Malfoy blanched.
A second later, and poof! He was gone.
. . .damn, I love my kitty.