𝙰 𝙲𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝙾𝚏 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝙼𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛

Draco being a simp--2/7

One-Shot Summary; Draco being head-over-heels stupid in love with Harry Potter and everyone else having flashbacks to Lily and James/Snape.

Also this one-shot is in the 2nd Person.

This is shit, but i can't leave you all hanging so here ya go.
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1st year

You were 11, and you were standing in one of the many halls of hogwarts.

You had dreamed of this day since you were a child, sitting in your mothers lap, silver eyes sparkling at the thought of such a big castle, even as your father frowned in the background.

Now that you were standing there you felt your stomach twist and turn into uncomfortable knots of anxiety.

Would you be placed in Slytherin like father wanted? Or would you fade in the background as a failure of a malfoy, only bearing the name for the sake of an heir.

Not daring to show your internal panic, you followed McGonagall inside the great hall, staring at the grand space with wonder.

To the candles floating above the long wooden tables, the seemingly open roof that revealed the sky filled with stars, you were even able to recognize a few constellations that were visible.

The castle was so large you could easily fit 4-5 story houses and more inside the hall and the room outside it alone.

You noticed the main table, it was a smaller markedly in comparison of the four tables in the front of it, which were almost impossibly long.

They were all filled with other kids of the ages of 12-17 years old, the 12 year olds being the second years and the seventh years, matching the number of years he would spend inside Hogwarts's halls.

Even though the table was smaller it felt like it was the most important object in the entire hall somehow, most noticeably was the head chair, which he knew had to be the headmasters.

The chair looked more like a a throne than a normal chair like the others, made of aged bronzen-gold, and it looked like it was as old as dumbledore himself.

So basically ancient as Merlin's balls.

You snapped out of your stupor when Mcgonagall announced that the sorting would begin, bringing out an ancient looking hat that few self respecting wizards would let in their home.

The hat was old and dirty, it looked as old as the castle itself, which it was, worn out and stitched back together in lighter patches of brown fabric, and you knew that father would never let that in the manor.

Your mind began to drift as Mcgonagall said names that meant little to you, until you heard your own name.

Confidently, you walked to the wooden stool, ignoring the burning stares you felt on your back.

You sat, and the hat was placed on your head, you slowed your breathing in an attempt to calm down the heavy beating of your heart.

The hat spoke to you, "you have potential for much..ravenclaw would be a good fit.." But, as if sensing your desperation, selected "SLYTHERIN" as your house.

You felt winded with relief, and stood up proudly, walking to the slytherin table, and felt the stares lessen as they realized you were not going to be another Sirius Black, your infamous uncle imprisoned in Azkaban, also known as hell on earth.

Now that you were safe, for now, you let your mind wander on again as professor Mcgonagall droned off more names that didn't interest you.

"Potter, Harry." She called and the room went so silent you could hear a pin drop.