NEMESIS || Draco Malfoy

22

That Sunday, the great hall was a mess during breakfast. I could hear their chants, yells and laughs as soon as I stepped a foot out of the dungeons; rolling my eyes, though grateful some things simply wouldn't change around here, no matter how much I did.

The first Quidditch match of the season always had all four of the houses — though, Slytherins and Gryffindors more so — riled up beyond belief. Usually, that included me.

It was a little different this year; I had better things to worry about— bigger things, even.

Still, Pansy had stuck one of the left-over "Weasley is our King" badges from last year onto the black fabric of my shirt; the text displayed gradually changing back and forth from those words to "He cannot block a single ring" while Weasley's face spun in the middle of the silver pin.

It was one of the few things Malfoy actually deserved the praise for — though Pansy probably helped with the lyrics to the song more so than the charm that hexed the badges.

Either way, I made sure to give the ginger boy a big smile as we passed him on our way to breakfast, his skin already sickly looking and his eyes nervously darting down to the identical pins on both mine and Pansy's chest.

He swallowed thickly as he saw them, any hint of former confidence in classes or when we passed each other in the hallways on other occasions gone.

He looked like he was about to start shaking with nerves as he turned back towards the hall, the rest of his house shouting good luck's and well wishes only seeming to make him more nervous.

As we passed him, I made sure to pat him on the back, a painfully sarcastic "Thank you in advance," slipping past my lips that made both Pansy and I laugh as we trotted over to the Slytherin table.

"What have you done to poor Weaselbee?" Malfoy asked, a fake pout on his lips before his eyes darted over to Pansy, the question clearly directed at her.

"Just a little preparation is all," The brunette shrugged, amusement lacing her words. My head turned as I sat down to watch the boy over at the Gryffindor table not even touch his food. Satisfied, I turned back towards my own table, grabbing a warm toast from the stands before the egg appeared on it as soon as I thought of it.

As I waited for it to cut itself, my eyes flickered over the rest of the table, every single student with a badge identical to mine pinned somewhere against their body. They wore it proudly, even Blaise having it pinned onto his quidditch uniform.

He'd have to take it off before the match, of course, though that didn't stop him from wearing it now; The rest of the team sharing his sentiments as they were discussing strategies and approaches.

Theo sat opposite me hummed the melody to "Weasley is our King," to himself, his head buried in the newspaper he held in one hand while taking a bite from the toast in his other.

Malfoy himself wore one of his badges against that black suit of his instead of the green uniform he wore just last year. It all made sense now; that he quit Quidditch.

The team was furious when he first announced the news — rightfully so, as even I had to admit he was a decent seeker — but Malfoy didn't seem to care, then. He, too, was moving onto bigger things.

Spirits were high, no doubt. And while I would've loved to see that spirit on the field, just like Malfoy, I had bigger and better things to tend to.

So, as the rest of the houses rushed over to the Quidditch pitch, laughing and cheering for their preferred winner before the match had even started, I made my way back down to the dungeons.