Draco's flashback ended, and the guard began to clap. Draco's face burned pink, certainly a change from his usual pale skin tone, and he asked to be let out, since the game had finished a few minutes ago. The guard opened the door, and he walked out, feeling a lot better for telling his story and with his head a lot clearer.
As he left the stadium, he saw the familiar form of Krum leaning against a tree, as if waiting for someone. Draco stopped, wondering if this was the time to get his revenge. "Poor little Krum, all alone, nobody to protect him now," he thought, as he fingered his wand inside his robes. He thought carefully about which curse to use – there was a particularly nasty one that the Freckled Weasel had tried to use on him once, and Draco laughed at the thought of Krum belching slugs everywhere.
He stepped quietly closer to Krum, making sure his presence was not felt, when someone appeared right in front of Krum. It was a girl with bushy brown hair, and although his face was turned away from him, Draco immediately knew who she was. She fell into Krum's arms, and he held her close, whispering into her ear. Draco seethed. Nothing was going the way he wanted it, and everything seemed to boil down to HIM. His stomach churned, and he turned away from the couple by the tree. "Who wants to see that mudblood doing anything, anyway?" he asked himself, as he apparated out of Bulgaria. It was a rhetorical question, but his heart answered anyway. You do.
The wind whipped through Hogsmeade as the late October sky overhead darkened, casting strange shadows on the joke shop and Honeyduke's as Draco apparated into the main street. Hogsmeade was as close as he could get to Hogwarts before the protection charm threw anyone trying to apparate in far away (He had learnt that the hard way: When apparating to Hogwarts for the first time he ended up somewhere in the South Pacific, surrounded by sheep and more sheep). The door to the Three Broomsticks creaked open, and he sat himself down at a corner table, then ordered a Butterbeer from Madam Rosmerta.
He pondered the day's events. This morning he had been so full of himself, so sure that his plan would work. It was a good plan, too. With his mother and father being how they were, Draco had grown up with little romance around him. But he had learnt one thing: girls liked presents. He had thought long and hard about what to get her, and the answer had hit him right in the face in potions just the day before.
Hermione had asked Neville if she could borrow some bat's blood, and he had decided that it would make the perfect gift. The only place to get decent bat's blood was the Apothecary in Diagon Alley, and Draco just happened to have a whole bottle of it spare (for throwing at first years, and other such uses). He had wrapped the bottle carefully up in some parchment, tied it with some wool he found lying around, and then gave it to an owl to leave on her bed.
"Obviously," he thought, "She hadn't found it before she left this morning. Or maybe that stupid owl never got around to delivering it. I'll throttle that thing if it didn't." He got up, and began the walk back to Hogwarts. Tomorrow was the start of a new week, and maybe his luck would begin to change.
Monday morning came, and Draco's luck did change, but not for the better. Potions with the Gryffindors was first, and he hoped that maybe she had received his present. As they filed into the classroom. He tried to see if there was any sign of recognition on her face, but there was none. She was happily chatting to Potter and Weasley, occasionally scolding them for trying to copy her homework, and then trying to get them to stop laughing when Professor Snape entered the room.
"Today we will begin an assignment on truth potions. Hopefully, we will be finished by Christmas. That is, unless you are all as thick as you were last week." Snape drawled, getting right to the point as usual.
"I have decided to pair you up. Potter, you will sit over there with Longbottom." Harry Potter moved his things so that he now shared a cauldron with Neville Longbottom.
"Miss Granger, since I don't want you anywhere near Mr Longbottom, lest you feel the desire to whisper the answers in his ear, you will come up here and share a cauldron with Mr Malfoy." He leered, and tapped the bench that Draco was sitting at with his finger. Hermione got up, gathered her things, and waltzed over to Draco, before gracefully perching herself on the stool next to him.
Draco gulped, hardly believing what had happened. It was torture, pure torture. He had to sit next to her for the entire class, just watching as she gently measured ingredients, and seeing her face gently lit by the fire under the cauldron, eyes sparkling, the perfect witch. Every time he tried to say something, his mouth went dry and his words caught in his throat, even though he did not know what words he was going to say. He really couldn't say anything. He had a reputation to uphold, of course, what would people say if they saw Draco Malfoy chatting with a mudblood? He kept his mouth shut, but desperately wanted to know what was going on inside her head. Her beautiful head. He didn't think he could stand to spend the next few months without knowing how she felt about him; it would be too much to bear. When the class came to an end, Draco Malfoy had a plan.
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A/N: Sorry about the short chapters, I'm trying to make them longer but they just don't want to be. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed and I'll try to get more up soon!
As he left the stadium, he saw the familiar form of Krum leaning against a tree, as if waiting for someone. Draco stopped, wondering if this was the time to get his revenge. "Poor little Krum, all alone, nobody to protect him now," he thought, as he fingered his wand inside his robes. He thought carefully about which curse to use – there was a particularly nasty one that the Freckled Weasel had tried to use on him once, and Draco laughed at the thought of Krum belching slugs everywhere.
He stepped quietly closer to Krum, making sure his presence was not felt, when someone appeared right in front of Krum. It was a girl with bushy brown hair, and although his face was turned away from him, Draco immediately knew who she was. She fell into Krum's arms, and he held her close, whispering into her ear. Draco seethed. Nothing was going the way he wanted it, and everything seemed to boil down to HIM. His stomach churned, and he turned away from the couple by the tree. "Who wants to see that mudblood doing anything, anyway?" he asked himself, as he apparated out of Bulgaria. It was a rhetorical question, but his heart answered anyway. You do.
The wind whipped through Hogsmeade as the late October sky overhead darkened, casting strange shadows on the joke shop and Honeyduke's as Draco apparated into the main street. Hogsmeade was as close as he could get to Hogwarts before the protection charm threw anyone trying to apparate in far away (He had learnt that the hard way: When apparating to Hogwarts for the first time he ended up somewhere in the South Pacific, surrounded by sheep and more sheep). The door to the Three Broomsticks creaked open, and he sat himself down at a corner table, then ordered a Butterbeer from Madam Rosmerta.
He pondered the day's events. This morning he had been so full of himself, so sure that his plan would work. It was a good plan, too. With his mother and father being how they were, Draco had grown up with little romance around him. But he had learnt one thing: girls liked presents. He had thought long and hard about what to get her, and the answer had hit him right in the face in potions just the day before.
Hermione had asked Neville if she could borrow some bat's blood, and he had decided that it would make the perfect gift. The only place to get decent bat's blood was the Apothecary in Diagon Alley, and Draco just happened to have a whole bottle of it spare (for throwing at first years, and other such uses). He had wrapped the bottle carefully up in some parchment, tied it with some wool he found lying around, and then gave it to an owl to leave on her bed.
"Obviously," he thought, "She hadn't found it before she left this morning. Or maybe that stupid owl never got around to delivering it. I'll throttle that thing if it didn't." He got up, and began the walk back to Hogwarts. Tomorrow was the start of a new week, and maybe his luck would begin to change.
Monday morning came, and Draco's luck did change, but not for the better. Potions with the Gryffindors was first, and he hoped that maybe she had received his present. As they filed into the classroom. He tried to see if there was any sign of recognition on her face, but there was none. She was happily chatting to Potter and Weasley, occasionally scolding them for trying to copy her homework, and then trying to get them to stop laughing when Professor Snape entered the room.
"Today we will begin an assignment on truth potions. Hopefully, we will be finished by Christmas. That is, unless you are all as thick as you were last week." Snape drawled, getting right to the point as usual.
"I have decided to pair you up. Potter, you will sit over there with Longbottom." Harry Potter moved his things so that he now shared a cauldron with Neville Longbottom.
"Miss Granger, since I don't want you anywhere near Mr Longbottom, lest you feel the desire to whisper the answers in his ear, you will come up here and share a cauldron with Mr Malfoy." He leered, and tapped the bench that Draco was sitting at with his finger. Hermione got up, gathered her things, and waltzed over to Draco, before gracefully perching herself on the stool next to him.
Draco gulped, hardly believing what had happened. It was torture, pure torture. He had to sit next to her for the entire class, just watching as she gently measured ingredients, and seeing her face gently lit by the fire under the cauldron, eyes sparkling, the perfect witch. Every time he tried to say something, his mouth went dry and his words caught in his throat, even though he did not know what words he was going to say. He really couldn't say anything. He had a reputation to uphold, of course, what would people say if they saw Draco Malfoy chatting with a mudblood? He kept his mouth shut, but desperately wanted to know what was going on inside her head. Her beautiful head. He didn't think he could stand to spend the next few months without knowing how she felt about him; it would be too much to bear. When the class came to an end, Draco Malfoy had a plan.
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A/N: Sorry about the short chapters, I'm trying to make them longer but they just don't want to be. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed and I'll try to get more up soon!