The next morning, their first lesson was Charms with Flitwick. Unfortunately, while Eva had been expecting a calm and easy first lesson, in which they'd slowly be reintroduced to past topics, the truth was far from it. Flitwick spoke fast as he ran through an entire new charm they needed to know and master, so fast even that Eva struggled to keep up with her note taking and ended up falling behind, copying up off Draco who was somehow still following what Flitwick was saying.

"Now, the Bubble-Head Charm only has a limited oxygen supply, which changes depending solely on the skill of the wizard creating it," Flitwick explained, magically writing across a large blackboard above him. "The simple calculation for estimating the length of time this charm will last before inevitable suffocation is-"

There was a soft knock on the door which startled Flitwick, causing him to fall off his little stack of books. Two Hufflepuffs leapt out of their seats and quickly helped him back up again so he was within view once more while Draco sniggered beside her.

"Yes?" he asked.

The classroom door creaked open. Slughorn was standing in the doorway, holding his little pocket watch in his hand. "My apologies, professor. May I borrow Miss. Infernum for a short amount of time?" He gazed over the class before his eyes eventually fell on her with a smile. "We shan't be long."

Flitwick readjusted his glasses on his nose so that they were no longer askew. "Um, yes, of course. Now, you'll want to use the equation . . ."

Still a little bewildered, Eva quickly packed her belongings into her bag and picked up her robe which she had been sitting with as a blanket, instead draping it over her arm.

"Where are you going?" Draco whispered. She shrugged. "Why?" Again, she shrugged.

"I'll tell you later," she replied, gently squeezing his arm.

"Um, Miss. Infernum, if you could please cause less disturbance to my class while I am busy teaching, that would be preferable," Flitwick scolded, his arms crossed with an angry frown, although she struggled to take him seriously due to his height.

Eva squeezed past a few others and then scampered out of the room. "Sorry, sir," she called behind her quietly, the sound of her classmates' laughter echoing behind her.

Closing the classroom door, she stood facing Slughorn in the corridor with a confused expression. "What did you need to talk to me about, sir?"

Slughorn chuckled under his breath for a moment before placing his hands behind his back. "Come, let's walk and talk." He started along the hall while Eva dashed along beside him, having to take double the amount of steps due to her legs being so short. "As you may've noticed by now, the Quidditch pitch has been repaired since the events of last year."

Eva shivered at the memory. She'd played on that pitch for years, only to watch as it caught fire like a matchstick and burned into a pile of smoking rubble.

"Now, I've taken it as my responsibility to organise the Slytherin Quidditch team for this year," he told her, "and I figured that the best place to start was to find a new Captain. Initially, I'd had Mr. Malfoy in mind for team Captain, due to his natural talent and leadership, but I must say, when I saw you play just two years ago, I was surprised, especially when one considers you are non-wizard-born after all."

Her eyebrows drew together. "Uh, sir, I don't think you're allowed to say that about people these days-"

"Oh no, you misunderstand, I'm not prejudice, not at all, I promise," he insisted. "My best students were muggle-borns, you included, Eva." She nodded her head sceptically. "Anywho, I don't suppose you would be interested in taking up the role of Captain, would you? I just worry that your lover boy will take it the wrong way-"

She blushed at his wording for a moment. Never had anyone referred to Draco as a 'lover boy'. He wasn't wrong though. "Nah, he'll be fine. I'll check in anyway, but . . . you really want me to be the Captain? Me?"

He seemed momentarily confused by the question. "Why yes, of course. For someone of your height especially," another painful reminder that she was still 4'10, "you are incredibly talented, my dear. And I can safely say that I have seen firsthand the responsibility and order you bring when it is needed most," he explained, and she instantly knew the circumstances he was referring to. "So, can I count on you to take up this badge and wear it with pride?" From his breast pocket, he pulled out a small emerald green badge with 'Captain' written in silver.

She warily took the badge from him. "Well, I can damn well try."

"That's the spirit!" His grin broadened. "But I must warn you that it will be quite the extra commitment. You will be in charge of overseeing tryouts fairly—for I know they have a habit of being less than just with decisions for the team—and it is your responsibility to ensure the team this year is in tip-top condition."

She shrugged. "I guess I can do that."

"Excellent," he exclaimed. "Oh, and before I let you go back to your lesson with Professor Flitwick, I do hope I will see you at my dinner party next Saturday evening. Would you mind seeing that Miss. Granger comes too, as well as Mr. McLaggen?"

No, no, not Cormac, not Cormac-

"Sure," Eva replied with a forced smile.

"Guess who's the new Quidditch team Captain!" Eva pounced on Draco on the bed, causing an 'oof' to leave his lips. She showed him his badge proudly like some kind of toddler who'd earned a 'Well Done' sticker in pre-school.

"He chose you?" Draco clarified sceptically before sighing. "Well, you were in his little favourite collectibles club after all, so I can't say I'm surprised."

"Here he goes," she muttered, rolling to the side. "You're not actually bothered about me being chosen instead of you, are you?"

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Merlin, no. I'm only here because you're here, so I'll do the bare minimum and leave, thank you."

"Well, at least you'll still be on the team." She paused and sat up, his sudden confused expression putting her off. "You will be playing on the team this year, right?" she asked slowly.

He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea where you got that idea from. Just get Harper to play again as Seeker, he's not half bad at it."

"You're not playing this year?" she questioned, bewildered. "Like, not at all? You're not even gonna show up for a single match? Or maybe even as a substitute? Or take another position? Oh, I do need new Beaters so-"

"What about 'I'm not playing' is so difficult to understand?" he snapped, startling her with the sudden aggressive reaction. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. "It's not like I'd be any use on that pitch in anyway."

"What? No, Draco," she crawled onto his lap, "you're so useful," she assured him. "Most of the matches we won were solely thanks to you. Remember in sixth year when the Slytherin team were completely obliterated? Think it's a coincidence that it happened to be the year you weren't playing-"

"That's irrelevant," he interrupted, short-tempered. "In case you haven't noticed, Eva, I can't play Quidditch anymore," he said slowly, emphasising every single word as if that were to ensure the message sank in. "I can't even catch a bloody bouncy ball, forget about a Snitch."

"Not even a bouncy ball-?"

"Not even a bouncy ball," he repeated irritably before sighing heavily. "You know, when I was younger, my dream was to become a Quidditch player." He glanced up at her. "You don't find that surprising?"

She shrugged. "Well, I doubted you wanted to become a Death Eater from the moment you left the womb."

He shook his head at her. "Anyway, I used to be Quidditch-obsessed."

"I could tell that from the endless amount of Wimborne Wasps merch you own and hide at the back of your wardrobe," she teased until he glared at her. "Fine, I'll shut up," she relented.

"My father bought me my first broomstick when I was 8," he continued. "The Nimbus 1500, the best and most expensive at the time. Goyle's father was the one who actually first taught me, since I was too scared to get on. I used to spend hours chasing my Snitch around the gardens at home and reading books on Quidditch, hoping that one day I'd be good enough to play properly. That was one of the reasons I hated your mudblood friend for making that comment about my abilities in second year, as if I was inferior to Saint Potter." He spat his name.

Eva felt her heart drop for Draco. All this time, and the mean, asshole-y bully who she used to hate even being near just wanted to play Quidditch. When she'd hexed him so that he vomited slugs for an entire day, the only reason he'd said those words was because he was so internally hurt by what Hermione had said to him.

"That was what you really wanted?" she asked.

He nodded. "Pretty much always, yeah. That's what I gave as my career choice in our Career Advice Meetings. Snape can vouch for me-" He went silent. "Or you could just take my word for it. In conclusion, life is terrible and then we die. The end."

"Delightful," she snarked. "I'm sorry, Draco. That must . . ." she struggled to think up what to say, "well and truly suck."

He sniffed a laugh. "It does. At this point, though, that's the least of my worries. I'm just glad that neither of us are dead. Yet. We'll all die sooner or later."

She laughed and ruffled his hair since she knew it annoyed him when she did so. "I said it once and I'll say it again—you're a little ray of sunshine."

Draco woke up early the next morning. He always did—well, earlier than Eva in anyway. That girl could honestly sleep for days straight if she was left to do so.

He sat up slowly and yawned, only to find that she was still furiously cuddling a pillow beside him. Trying not to wake her up by laughing, since they didn't have any classes until the afternoon so she had plenty of time to have a lie-in, he shuffled out of bed and was dressed and out of the door within minutes.

The Great Hall was quietest at the time that he usually had breakfast. Apparently 6:30 in the morning wasn't a popular time to start the day for most people. Other than a few teachers at the teachers' table, there were maybe 20 students across the house tables, just the few early risers.

Nodding to a seventh year Slytherin who entered the room and sat at the other end of the Slytherin table, Draco served himself a plate of eggs and bacon, pretty much the same breakfast he always ate.

"Hello, Draco Malfoy."

He raised his head from his plate and placed his fork down. Luna Lovegood was standing opposite him. Without asking to join him, she placed her bowl of porridge down and sat down so that she was facing him.

"You enjoy waking up earlier than most, don't you?" Luna asked.

Draco had absolutely no desire to start a conversation with the girl. There was a reason he along with everyone else called her Loony Lovegood after all. However, he did sort of, in a way, owe Eva's life to the girl, so he wasn't exactly in a position to throw a piece of food at her in hope that she'd get the message.

"How is your mental condition improving?" she asked him.

That did it. He looked up at her and narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"The Jelly-Brain Curse that Voldemort used on you at Christmas for his entertainment," she clarified. "It certainly didn't sound very healthy or comfortable. That curse is part of the reason for many permanent mental disorders in St. Mungo's Hospital, did you know?"

"Yes, I know," he snapped. "I've already visited myself."

"Did you tell Eva what happened?" she asked.

"What's it to you?" he sneered in response.

"It is just that, from my experience, Eva doesn't take well to being left in the dark. She very often takes offence by it, as if she is not trustworthy enough to be informed," she explained. "From your current confused expression, I can tell that is something you haven't noticed until now. Eva doesn't like to make it obvious, you see. She can be stubborn."

"For your information, I did tell her, Lovegood," he replied coolly, "and I would prefer it if you didn't interfere in other people's business where your opinion isn't wanted."

She nodded. "I understand." However, much to his dismay, she didn't move away, instead continuing to eat right opposite him. However, his eyes ended up settling on a silver necklace around her neck. Something about it felt familiar. "This charm represents the Deathly Hallows," she explained as if reading his mind, lifting it up to show him. "My dad gave it to me when I was reunited with him. Daddy doesn't like you very much," she shared. "He sees the entire Malfoy and Black family as loathsome narcissistic snobs. That is one of few things I disagree with him about, you see. Seemingly you are very similar to your father, but in reality you share very little in common with your relatives." She tilted her head to the side, scrutinizing his expression. "You grow tired of my company. It was nice speaking to you, Draco Malfoy."

With that, the girl stood up again with her breakfast and seemingly floated across the room. Draco watched her retreating figure with a raised eyebrow. He shook his head and continued to pick at his bacon.

"Weird day," he muttered to himself.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Author's note: Sorry that I'm so late with getting this out. School's been drowning me (metaphorically, obviously) especially this week, but things should get a little more regular for a bit now.

Anyways, what do we think of this? I thought I'd add a little spice to Draco's character so that he's not just some entitled snob of a child but instead an entitled snob of a child who had his Quidditch heart broken and his dreams shattered.

Anyway, thank you so much for reading, stay safe, and ily lots!