The Quidditch World Cup
Finally, the time came for the Quidditch World Cup to begin. Kuro-chan remained in the tent, curling up on the futon and falling asleep. She stroked his fur and gave him a little kiss on the top of his head, then headed out with the other throng of people who were also making their way to the stands. Excitement thrummed in her body the closer she got to her seats. One of the workers there checked her ticket and pointed to where she needed to go, and she climbed all the steps until she had finally reached the location where the box seats were. Her parents had gifted her a seat there since they knew how much she loved Quidditch and the Bulgarian team. She took her seat, looking around at all the people in the stadium, the excited chatter and laughter of all the people made her feel that much more excited.
Draco and Lucius were headed up the stairs when they spotted the Weasleys and Potter. A smug look appeared on Draco's face as they sauntered along, pushing them out of the way so they could get to their seats first.
"Father and I have seats with the Minister. We were personally invited by Cornelius Fudge himself," he boasted. Lucius was smirking, but he turned and smacked Draco in the chest with his cane.
"Don't brag, Draco. There's no point with people like these," he said as he looked down his nose at the Weasleys and Potter distastefully. Draco hadn't been expecting it and he groaned, rubbing his chest. Draco was somewhat satisfied when Lucius smacked Potter's hand as they turned to head toward their own seats. His smirk came back, but as he turned, the smirk faded as he clutched his chest.
A short while later, Mizuki's attention was torn from the advertisements that were flashing above to the movement from the corner of her eye. A white-blond-haired boy with sharp features and a scowl on his face approached. Mizuki noted that the man behind him must be his father as they shared the same white-blond hair and looked as though they had just smelled something foul. The boy saw her looking at him, and he smirked at her, eyes traveling over her body as he assessed her coolly.
I bet you are just loving the view. Bit of a privilege to see me in all my glory and get to sit next to me, Draco thought. Nicely dressed and seated in the best seats in the house. Only wealthy families or people of importance would be sitting in the box seats; and if her Prada bag is any indication, she must be.
Normally, she would have looked away when someone stared at her, but there was something in his gaze that held her. She couldn't look away, not even if she had wanted to. The cheering and applauding from the crowd somehow seemed to drown out as she looked at him, his gaze holding her so that she felt paralyzed. She couldn't move. She could look away.
The boy sat down next to her with his father on the other side, he was looking out at the Pitch with a satisfied look on his face, smug smile still in place. He looked like the type of person she should be avoiding, so when she smiled at him and held her hand out to introduce herself, she was appalled at herself.
What in Merlin's name are you doing, Mizuki?!
"I'm Mizuki Saito," she greeted politely, careful to enunciate her words properly so that he couldn't detect her Japanese accent—her parents would be pleased. He looked at her hand, the smirk still in place. He took her hand, shaking it, and she noted how soft his hands felt, that he had long slender fingers—perfect for playing the piano, she thought. Why had she just introduced herself? That was not something she would have done before, she liked being invisible, she hated being the center of attention.
"I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," he said with his British accent that she still hadn't gotten completely used to. The smirk remained in place as he looked at her with his grey eyes. Having her attention on him like that stroked his ego. It made him forget how he really felt about himself, it made him want to show off like some peacock strutting about the place with its glorious feathers spread for her to admire.
Never heard of you before, but I bet you've heard of me. It must be why you're looking at me like that. You want something from me or my father. That, or you're just smitten by my good looks.
Mizuki wondered if she had made a mistake introducing herself, something about this boy screamed dangerous, alarms went off in her head alerting her that he was like all the other students at her old school. She saw his father glaring at his son, eyes flicking to her with distaste. They had only just insulted the Weasley family moments ago, and now they were sitting next to this girl who was clearly trying to suck up to them—or so he thought.
"I'm transferring to Hogwarts from Mahoutokoro," she explained. "Do you go to Hogwarts?" she asked. His father now gave her another once over, a sort of appraising sort of look. She looked back at Draco who now assumed a casual air about him as he sat tall with his hands resting on his knees. He was wearing a tailored black suit with a black shirt underneath and dress shoes. A silver snake pin was attached to the left side of his lapel and he had two silver rings, one on each hand. Draco merely nodded his head to answer her question.
So you don't know who I am, then? That was news to Draco. Everyone from around here knew who the Malfoys were. But she's not from around here, is she? And Mahoutokoro to boot. Excellent.
His father was equally well-dressed, and it didn't take a genius to see that they were wealthy and powerful. The way they held themselves and looked down at everyone from their noses made her realize that they were definitely the type of family that she wanted to steer clear from, and she had just made the mistake of associating herself with them because she had been too fascinated with—well, with what she didn't know, but for some reason, she couldn't stop looking at Draco.
"Mahoutokoro is famous for their excellent Quidditch players," Draco said, looking at her. "Do you play Quidditch, then?"
There was no way that she was going to tell him why she didn't play, so she settled on a different answer. "No, but I love Quidditch," she said, "If I could play, I would love to be Seeker like Viktor Krum," she looked back at the Quidditch pitch with a smile on her face as she thought about him. She didn't have a crush on him, she just admired the way he flew.
Draco sneered. "Alright then, what do you like so much about him?" he asked as though he were trying to catch her in a lie. Mizuki turned her attention back to him, smiling. She could spend all evening talking about Quidditch.
Go ahead, try to lie your way out of this one, Saito, he thought.
"His flying ability is amazing! The way he executes the Wronski Feint and always sends the opposing team's Seeker crashing into the ground or pulling back is phenomenal and—" Mizuki went on to describe how she had studied his moves in a Quidditch playbook and how each move had contributed to Bulgaria winning or at least catching the Snitch, then proceeded to talk about the other players on the team and their formations.
Draco listened, his usual calloused façade fading slowly, eyes widening slightly. He was used to people speaking to him because of who he was, but this girl didn't seem to know him or his family at all. She didn't seem afraid of him like all the other students were nor did she flatter him like the Slytherin girls did especially Pansy. Instead, she was talking to him about Quidditch, a sport that most girls he knew—not that he actually knew many— didn't care to talk about, finding it boring or only pretending to be interested because he was a Seeker.
"Who do you—" he had been about to ask who she thought was going to win, but Bagman began speaking, introducing the Irish team as they flew overhead, the crowd cheering loudly. Next, he introduced Bulgaria, and Draco watched as the girl next to him cheered loudly as they came out, clapping particularly loudly when Krum's name was said.
Briefly, Draco wondered if she would cheer as enthusiastically if she was watching him play. As quick as the thought came, it faded. There was no way that this girl didn't want something from him, everyone did. That, or she would end up hating him like most of the students at school. She was also a transfer student, which meant that he didn't know what house she would end up being sorted into. She could be a Slytherin, he thought with a tiny flicker of hope in his chest, or, she could be a Gryffindor, he thought darkly. Trust that stupid Potter to always ruin everything. He scowled.
He was so deep in his thoughts that he wasn't really paying much attention to the game itself, so he missed a lot of things that happened even though he was looking right at the players. He had come here for this moment and this girl was distracting him! He had wanted to see Krum, too, but he couldn't pay attention or enjoy the game because he kept thinking stupid things that he shouldn't even be considering. And yet he couldn't stop himself. He glanced at her sideways. Her eyes were wide with excitement, flicking back and forth between the players as the Quaffle moved from Chaser to Chaser. The emotions were expressed so freely in her face that he found he couldn't tear his eyes away from her.
Draco's heart began to do weird things. It sped up for no particular reason. His stomach did nosedive, and he felt like he was completely gawking at her, but he couldn't do anything about it. He wasn't aware that his father was sitting next to him, that they were surrounded by hundreds of people, or that said people were cheering and clapping. All he knew was that she existed. Saito with her large lavender eyes, skin illuminated by the lights, the reflection of the players in her eyes.
Krum suddenly dove, and in her excitement, Mizuki grabbed onto Draco's arm. "The Wronski Feint!" she said breathlessly. Draco looked down at her hand on his arm and felt a jolt at the sudden gesture; but she was looking at Krum, so Draco turned his attention to the Seeker as he and Lynch plummeted to the ground.
"Did he see the Snitch?" Draco asked. He would have pulled his arm away—a typical flight or fight response of his, but he could feel the warmth of her hand seeping through the fabric of his blazer's sleeve. His heart sped up even more so that it felt like it was speeding on a Firebolt. He was pleased that she was touching him.
"I don't know," Mizuki replied, her hand moving away from Draco's arm. He felt a stab of disappointment—the warmth her hand provided faded like the last light of the sun. "He's going to crash!" she pointed out, talking about Lynch. Sure enough, Krum pulled up last minute and Lynch crashed into the ground with a sickening thwap!
Ireland supporters gasped as medics ran over to him to patch him up. As they were busy, Mizuki watched Krum fly into the air. She used her Omnioculars to zoom in on his face. He was looking around the stadium, his narrowed as he focused on looking for the Snitch. "He's using the time to look for the Snitch," she said.
It was a smart move, but Draco wasn't going to openly admit it. It wasn't that he didn't like Krum, it was the fact that his father was there watching him. Lucius Malfoy had instilled many ideals into Draco at a young age, and one of them was stoicism.
Lynch was up and flying again in no time, and the game resumed. It turned more violent as Ireland continued to score, Bulgaria had managed to snag one goal, but they were working hard to score another. Mizuki was watching Krum mostly, and then she thought she spotted something gold glinting in the light. Krum dove again, and Lynch followed. Was Lynch going to crash again, she wondered? She watched through her Omnioculars as they flew toward the ground again, racing each other for the Snitch. Through the Omnioculars, she could see it zooming ahead of them just out of arm's reach.
Everyone was on the edge of their seats as they watched the two Seekers who were neck in neck. Again, Krum pulled up before he hit the ground, but Lynch smacked into it. Krum was now holding the Snitch in his hands. The game was over. Ireland had won, but Krum had caught the Snitch.
The crowd erupted into loud cheers, Mizuki hadn't noticed that she was standing now along with everyone else, clapping. Draco and his father were also standing up, clapping with dour expressions on their faces; but Mizuki didn't notice—at least not until she turned to Draco, beaming at him from Krum's victorious snatching of the Snitch.
Draco looked at her expression and, to his surprise, as he stood there clapping, he felt the corners of his mouth tug into a smile, a genuine one at that, not his usual smirk, but a smile that was the result of feeling a glimmer of happiness—albeit for a very brief few seconds—and at that moment, something in Draco Malfoy changed, something miniscule, but it was still there.
Who is this girl?