But He's a Malfoy
She glanced back in his direction when she was sure no one was looking.
He was always enthralling to watch.
The way his white-blond hair fell across his forehead—the way he impatiently tossed his head to flip them back.
That slight smile, half a smirk, always on the corner of his lips, sometimes—rarely—giving way to his laughter.
Like now.
Crabbe and Goyle had just done something so impossibly stupid you wouldn't think anyone alive could ever manage it. They do it often enough.
He rubbed his chin with the back of his hand as he chuckled, the sunlight glinting off the thick silver band on his ring finger—the one with the encrusted ornate dragon insignia.
The way he moved, carefully, orchestrated, like poetry. She never tired of watching him.
Mostly his eyes.
The silver-gray almost colorless…changing hues with his emotions. Clear near-blue, stormy gray, blank liquid metal… Nobody could ever read him.
Not his bodyguards Crabbe and Goyle.
Not Pansy, who fastened herself to his side, looping her arm around his, even as he shrugs her off, looking nonchalant, as if he had not a care in the world.
As if he felt nothing in his life was wrong. As if…
Surrounded by the rest of the Slytherin house—the boys who looked up to him, the girls who all swooned—who all obviously thought—obviously knew—he was their leader. That he was the one to follow.
He had big things ahead in his life.
He was a very talented wizard no doubt. He nearly rivalled her own academic standing for certain. No matter how many times she refuted it in public or out loud.
He had the sharpest senses of instincts, for danger, for business, for life, perhaps even for love.
He would've made the perfect man.
But…
He stuck out his leg and tripped a passing student—a Hufflepuff. The kid tumbled onto the ground, dropping his books, his wand falling with a clatter to the pavement.
Such immature, boyish behavior…
Maybe if he did not grow up, she thought. If he just remained that spiteful boy instead of inevitably following in his father's dark footsteps…
He laughed again, an evil laugh, laughed along with his friends, and called out crude remarks to Harry who helped the fallen Hufflepuff to his feet while Ron simply glared.
She dropped her gaze quickly.
Her time to watch had come to an end.
She met the annoyed gazes of Harry and Ron instead with one of her own and consistently agreed with each of their loathsome remarks about the fair-haired boy while adding some of her own with the deepest conviction.
Harry just shook his head to himself while Ron cursed some more.
Then she caught him looking at her with that half-smile again. She replied with a dark glare but held his gaze for a longer time than necessary until Harry called her attention.
It would have been lovely to fancy there was a hidden side to him, one not so foul, one not so vile, not so tainted by the evil. To fancy that he was simply a misunderstood confused young man.
To imagine a someday in which he might turn good…
She would have wanted to wait for that.
But then again…
a/n: Whew...first attempt at any other kind of ship. I was revising my latest chapter for The Muggle Way and it hit me.
The scene from Chapter 8: Take me to Your Leader was:
"It really doesn't strike you as strange that Draco Malfoy is in New York? Today?"
Thames paused meaningfully before he answered, "No, Sierra," with a tone of finality.
Sierra's face fell again. "B-but he's a Malfoy!"
Inspiration's so weird when it strikes sometimes.
Here's a little game, try inserting the phrase But He's a Malfoy after every other line in this one-shot. It works, lolz...
Do let me know how you guys like it and leave a review. I'm not so good with the one-shots. I'm sure there are probably tons of Dr/He (is that how it's called?) fics out there with the same sort of plot, but I came up with this one nonetheless... :) Thanks for reading!