On the morning of the first Quidditch match, Cori, a second year that was Meilin's only real friend, shoveled pancakes onto Meilin's plate. Meilin stared at the candle on the table, her stomach knotting uncomfortably. Cori waved her hand in front of her face.
"Faye? Hey Faye! Snap out of it." Meilin's head jerked up, smiling nervously.
"What?" Cori stabbed a pancake, thrusting it at her friend.
"Eat. Come on, you're gonna need your strength for the match. We're playing Gryffindor, and you are at least half the size of the other players," Cori handed her a glass of Pumpkin Juice as well, "Now eat." Meilin took the goblet, taking a gulp. She spat it out, coughing. She whirled on Cori.
"What the hell is in that stuff?" she asked accusingly. Cori laughed, holding up a handful of empty sugar packets.
"Energy boosters. You look like you need them." Meilin stole her glasses in retaliation. Cori grabbed them back, grinning. Meilin sighed.
"I feel a lot better if you were on the team with me."
"I almost went out for Seeker, but I knew my dear Draco would get the position. He's been bragging about those broomsticks for weeks." Cori was 'with' Draco, if it could be called that. Just then the team captain came and dragged Meilin from the table.
"Come on Mudblood, you need to change into your robes." Cori waved energetically as she watched her friend being pulled away.
"Wait! Cori! Don't let them take me, you don't know what they'll do to me!"
"Shaddup, we want to win, we won't hurt you."
"Bye Faye! Have fun, I'll be watching."
Meilin, it might be noted, completely bombed the match. Gryffindor won. She had frozen at the sight of so many people, and wasn't able to play like she had during try-outs. But the game wasn't as bad as she thought. She had been totally afraid of the bludgers, but one of them focused totally on the seeker of the other team, Jerry something or another. She did feel sorry for him, however. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, an idiot, there was no denying, had done something to his broken arm. But she had her own problems right then.
"Worst of luck," one of the beaters grunted to the other in the locker room, sneering at Meilin, "our new Chaser's a muggle born AND stage fright." Meilin stared determinedly ahead, clutching her precious Cleansweep 8. She waited until the rest of the team left before the tears came.
She felt like such an idiot. This match had turned out exactly like the play in first grade, except in that case she had been a princess and had run off the stage. Her father was all smiles though, camera in hand and the words "I'm so proud of you. You did great," greeting her as she filed out of the auditorium. But this time she was alone. Or so she thought.
Draco stepped out of the showers, toweling his pale hair dry. He assumed everyone else had left, but he listened just to be sure. Nope, someone was there, crying by the sound of it. Peering around the corner as he wrapped the towel around his waist, he spotted that familiar brown hair and robed body, hunched over and alone. It was Meilin. He watched her with a fascination he couldn't describe. Why was she crying? Because they lost? That didn't seem likely somehow. He came up behind her.
"What's the matter mudblood?" he asked, but his voice was friendly, caring. She whirled around, glaring at him with tear-stained cheeks. She opened her mouth to reply, but it twitched and she started to cry harder. Draco sat down, putting an arm around her shoulder. He felt her body tense.
"Hey, now. Don't cry, calm down. We've lost before, but we'll come back and win."
"Go away." Meilin said, voice cracking, "I don't want to be near you. And I know you don't like being near me." Draco frowned.
"Did I say that?"
"Yes." Draco laughed, quiet-like.
"Aw, come on Meilin. I said I didn't like mudbloods. I never once hinted I didn't like YOU." Draco gave the shoulders a light squeeze, "Don't listen to what those jerks say, whether it's about your heritage or your Quidditch abilities. Both are fine. You just need to chill." Meilin looked at Draco, somehow thankful for his presence. He smiled slightly at her, then got up to change into his robes. They both knew the next day they would be back to the same old arguing and hatred, but for that moment they understood.
Author's Note: RaNdOmNeSs! Hehe! I kind of like this fanfic of mine… oh, the power. And there ya go Cori! You got your appearance in here, so don't say I never do anything nice (smiles jokingly). (No, this will NOT turn into a D/OC… at least, I don't THINK so…)
"Faye? Hey Faye! Snap out of it." Meilin's head jerked up, smiling nervously.
"What?" Cori stabbed a pancake, thrusting it at her friend.
"Eat. Come on, you're gonna need your strength for the match. We're playing Gryffindor, and you are at least half the size of the other players," Cori handed her a glass of Pumpkin Juice as well, "Now eat." Meilin took the goblet, taking a gulp. She spat it out, coughing. She whirled on Cori.
"What the hell is in that stuff?" she asked accusingly. Cori laughed, holding up a handful of empty sugar packets.
"Energy boosters. You look like you need them." Meilin stole her glasses in retaliation. Cori grabbed them back, grinning. Meilin sighed.
"I feel a lot better if you were on the team with me."
"I almost went out for Seeker, but I knew my dear Draco would get the position. He's been bragging about those broomsticks for weeks." Cori was 'with' Draco, if it could be called that. Just then the team captain came and dragged Meilin from the table.
"Come on Mudblood, you need to change into your robes." Cori waved energetically as she watched her friend being pulled away.
"Wait! Cori! Don't let them take me, you don't know what they'll do to me!"
"Shaddup, we want to win, we won't hurt you."
"Bye Faye! Have fun, I'll be watching."
Meilin, it might be noted, completely bombed the match. Gryffindor won. She had frozen at the sight of so many people, and wasn't able to play like she had during try-outs. But the game wasn't as bad as she thought. She had been totally afraid of the bludgers, but one of them focused totally on the seeker of the other team, Jerry something or another. She did feel sorry for him, however. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, an idiot, there was no denying, had done something to his broken arm. But she had her own problems right then.
"Worst of luck," one of the beaters grunted to the other in the locker room, sneering at Meilin, "our new Chaser's a muggle born AND stage fright." Meilin stared determinedly ahead, clutching her precious Cleansweep 8. She waited until the rest of the team left before the tears came.
She felt like such an idiot. This match had turned out exactly like the play in first grade, except in that case she had been a princess and had run off the stage. Her father was all smiles though, camera in hand and the words "I'm so proud of you. You did great," greeting her as she filed out of the auditorium. But this time she was alone. Or so she thought.
Draco stepped out of the showers, toweling his pale hair dry. He assumed everyone else had left, but he listened just to be sure. Nope, someone was there, crying by the sound of it. Peering around the corner as he wrapped the towel around his waist, he spotted that familiar brown hair and robed body, hunched over and alone. It was Meilin. He watched her with a fascination he couldn't describe. Why was she crying? Because they lost? That didn't seem likely somehow. He came up behind her.
"What's the matter mudblood?" he asked, but his voice was friendly, caring. She whirled around, glaring at him with tear-stained cheeks. She opened her mouth to reply, but it twitched and she started to cry harder. Draco sat down, putting an arm around her shoulder. He felt her body tense.
"Hey, now. Don't cry, calm down. We've lost before, but we'll come back and win."
"Go away." Meilin said, voice cracking, "I don't want to be near you. And I know you don't like being near me." Draco frowned.
"Did I say that?"
"Yes." Draco laughed, quiet-like.
"Aw, come on Meilin. I said I didn't like mudbloods. I never once hinted I didn't like YOU." Draco gave the shoulders a light squeeze, "Don't listen to what those jerks say, whether it's about your heritage or your Quidditch abilities. Both are fine. You just need to chill." Meilin looked at Draco, somehow thankful for his presence. He smiled slightly at her, then got up to change into his robes. They both knew the next day they would be back to the same old arguing and hatred, but for that moment they understood.
Author's Note: RaNdOmNeSs! Hehe! I kind of like this fanfic of mine… oh, the power. And there ya go Cori! You got your appearance in here, so don't say I never do anything nice (smiles jokingly). (No, this will NOT turn into a D/OC… at least, I don't THINK so…)