Draco Malfoy x Reader - Your Years At Hogwarts

Malfoy Manor

You hopped onto the green covered four poster bed in Malfoy manor. The place was huge, and very warm, with lots and lots of little elves running around doing your chores. You said to one of them that they didn't have to tidy your bedsheets and that you would do them, but it just burst out crying and begged you to let it. Curious little creatures.

It wasn't as boring as you thought it would be. Most of the time you played wizards chess with your grandmother in the living room, or had races with Malfoy across the house. He wasn't being so bad, but he still had a tendency to slip some salt into your tea or magically dye your clothes white. Everything was always dyed white with him. Maybe it was his favourite colour. You saw him as more of a silver lover.

With a load of new nimbus 2001's Malfoy's dad had bought, you whizzed around the massive garden trying to score points with the quaffle. You had started to become far better on the broom, even beating Malfoy sometimes when he came out to race. Your grandmother was trying to convince you to go to the Slytherin try-outs for the chaser position. There was no way that the Slytherin team would let a small second year be a chaser - so you just laughed it off whenever she brought it up.

Talking of Harry, he hadn't replied to any of your letters. You hadn't seen his owl, Hedwig, at all over the summer. Even Felicity hadn't bought back anything from him. Ron and Hermione had sent you a few things over the summer, which included books and new inventions from Fred and George to prank Draco.

Maybe the Malfoy's checked all of the post and stopped messages from Harry arriving. Draco certainly didn't like him.

It was a wonder really how anyone disliked Harry. He was great to you and all of his friends he had. But you knew you couldn't tell him about your father, your father who killed Harry's beloved parents. If you told him, he would definitely stop speaking to you. 

***

"Wake up."

You turned around in bed. It was way too early to be getting up.

"Wake up."

"Go away..." you groaned, turning to the other side of the bed.

"WAKE UP!"

The doorknob of your bedroom clicked loudly open. This made you sit upright in your bed. You had caught your green pyjama bottoms on a button on the duvet. The bottoms matched your sliver and green top. Your grandmother had told you that they were your mothers, and she wanted you to have them now, so you gladly accepted.

A head of blond hair came prancing through the door, nose upright and smug. Malfoy was dressed in a outfit used for flying, he obviously wanted to play quidditch.

"Thornheart get up, I can't wait all day!"

"Well I can!" you snapped back, lying back down on the bed. It was just too comfy and warm to get up from. Unfortunately Malfoy had a plan B.

You could hear a swishing sound. Swishing water.

"Get up."

Before you could even think about moving, the cold water came down on your head, soaking your hair, your pyjamas and even the bedsheets.

You were definitely wide awake now.

"FINE." you shouted, hopping out of your bed. "NOW GO AWAY!"

***

"Don't make me knock you off your broom, Malfoy - play fair!" you shouted across the grassy pitch. Malfoy was playing dirty, pushing into you and stealing the quaffle from your hands constantly. Just another annoying little trick to wind you up. It sure was working.

The blond boy just smirked and flew up, quaffle tucked tightly under his right arm. You could tell that he wasn't much of a chaser, he wobbled about everywhere too much. You needed to be good at dodging defenders and making direct throws, Malfoy just couldn't manage that. He seemed more of a goalkeeper - or maybe even a seeker.

Seekers, in your opinion, were the most important player of the match. They could pull a 140 point lose to a 10 point win in one catch, something Harry did very frequently. It was a wonder to you, to everyone, how Harry Potter was just so good at quidditch. It must have ran in the family.

"Bring it!" you shouted and stationed yourself in front of the game dependant goals. You were quite bad at goalkeeping, much worse than Malfoy, anyway.

Malfoy went to far to the right, your chaser's eye could tell that it was a likely miss. He threw the ball, which you could easily deflect because of his bad angle - knocking it sideward towards the manor.

Your grandmother and Lucius had been watching from one of the ground floor windows, but they weren't there anymore. Maybe they had gone to get some food.

"I'll get it!" you called, riding your broom down to the floor.

You raced across the garden floor towards the manor where the quaffle was sitting on one of the back door steps. You reached for it.

"He's getting stronger, I can feel it!" The voice was faint but recognisable. It wasn't very familiar, probably a Malfoy family friend. It was definitely a woman, though.

"Why do you hide then? I thought you loved him?" That was Lucius, Malfoy's father. His voice sounded even more self-righteous than his son's.

"Why wouldn't she?" Your grandmother sounded very sarcastic. This must have been where they had gone. Something was going on, a meeting. You pressed your ear against the opening of the door. You wanted to hear this.

"This isn't time for sarcasm, Thornheart, we have to meet him!" said Lucius.

"We can't." said the voice of the woman again. You still couldn't recognise it.

"And why is this. You're connected to him! And so am I!" Lucius shouted. You knew you shouldn't be there.

Footsteps were coming back towards the back door; you had to move - fast. You hopped on the nimbus 2001 and sped away, tucking the quaffle under your arm. It didn't take you long to reach Malfoy, who was hovering and stoking his gelled hair in mid air. His broom was slanted slightly.

You wondered if Lucius and your grandmother, and that strange woman, saw you fly away. If they did you were in big trouble. You glance quickly over your shoulder. Nothing. They hadn't followed you out, so hopefully they didn't notice.

You threw the quaffle at Malfoy's chest. He caught it, knocking him back a few feet because of the force. It made you look stronger than you really were.

"Nice training." you said, forcing a little, fake smile. You flicked your hair over your shoulder.

"I guess I'll see you on the team," you said, looking him up and down. His form was terrible, he could certainly ride much faster if he shifted his weight more to the left. "Or not."

You laughed a little, flying quickly on your broom.

***

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