someday, somehow → d.malfoy [discontinued]

015

draco malfoy was nearly shivering as he stood outside on the thirtieth of october with the rest of hogwarts,

waiting for the other competing schools of the triwizard tournament to arrive. he shuffled slightly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, so that his left knee might cease aching so much. still, he'd felt significantly warmer after he'd moved, so that the evening wind was buffered by the brooding goyle, before it was able to directly hit draco.

"what exactly are we supposed to be looking for?" he scowled, then heard the unmistakable snort of theodore nott in response.

"aha," the headmaster piped up suddenly, sounding far too delighted for such a gloomy afternoon. "unless i am very much mistaken, the delegation from beauxbatons approaches!" draco stole a glance in artemis' direction—at dumbledore's words, she seemed to grow several centimetres in height, and her chin tilted upwards as she scanned the blue-grey sky. many followed in pursuit—until, above the tops of the trees of the enigmatic forbidden forest, an indistinguishable blur of movement could be spied, moving closer and closer at alarming speed. the crowd had already begun to retreat as the blur came into sharper focus: a dozen winged palomino horses, galloping through mid air, magnificent in their immense size. attached to these pegasi—which were unlike anything draco had seen before—was a shimmering, powder-blue carriage, roughly a quarter the size of malfoy manor. the carriage hurtled past a gasping crowd of miscellaneous hogwarts students (vaguely, draco recognised blaise cursing at a startled longbottom) and landed with a rather ungraceful thunk on the castle grounds. there was a pause in time, as draco drank in the sight of the carriage; and then the door, which had been embellished with an image of two crossed wands, each emitting three golden stars, swung open on silent hinges and spewed out a boy. he barely looked seventeen; but held himself in a way draco had only seen on the pure-blooded. straight, elongated spine, shoulders pressed down, chin held high. the boy wore an ensemble of blue silk—a pale robe (which did not look to do much in terms of warmth), a draping dress shirt, tucked into a clean, pressed pair of navy trousers. dirt decorated his pointed dress shoes as soon as he stepped down, fumbled with some sort of latch at the base of the carriage door. a few gasps of wonder reached draco's ears as a glittering set of silver steps unfolded to reach the ground.

from the carriage emerged a black heeled shoe, then a massive calf, and a leg—until the entirety of hogwarts was gaping upwards at the largest woman draco had ever seen. she was, easily, twice as tall as he was, and her posture only added to the illusion of her towering height. her hair was oil-black, slicked back and twisted into a bun at the nape of her neck. her eyes were sharp, and the colour of coal; her nose ever so slightly hooked. her thick fingers and throat were decorated with dozens of shining black and blue opals, and her clothing was made of fine black silk. slowly, draco's school seemed to fade into a chorus of unrhythmic claps. as the enormous lady stepped forward, towards dumbledore, a steady trickle of students stepped into the evening. dressed in what draco guessed was their uniform—silk shirts, trousers and skirts—the beauxbatons population shook like a flock of scared lambs. 

"artemis!" someone from within the budding crowd hissed. draco felt as if he were watching the scene through a warped lense—a girl (he recognised her somewhat from the quidditch world cup) dashed towards a waiting, open-armed artemis. the two girls embraced tightly; like they'd been starved of each other's warmth for several years. they spoke to each other in rapid, unbroken strings of french—draco only managed to catch a few words: glad, missed, boring, excited, spend time, many, together. then, the two girls were pecking each others' cheeks fondly, embracing tightly once more, and the cedar-skinned girl—whose name draco was still unaware of—was trotting to catch up to the students of her own school, now making their way into the warmth of hogwarts' towering stone castle.

the students from durmstrang institute arrived rather magnificently, too.

from the flat surface of the black lake, bubbles found their way upwards, creating a peculiar pattern of spherical shapes until the top of a ship's mast broke the water's barrier. the rest of durmstrang's chosen medium of transport revealed itself eagerly—first the slender silhouette of its mast, and with it the wet, dripping fabric of twin sails. the curved hull cut through the water as if it were simply peeling off a layer of clothing—water sloshed against its glistening sides and crashed joyfully back unto itself. the brassy-golden details of the ship flicked warm specks of light across the black lake's dark surface; it appeared similarly to the night sky during a particularly clear night. the darkness rippled in response to the clean cut of the ship—forward it cruised, so that it might give itself the opportunity to show off its own dreamlike beauty. as it brushed the sloping shores of the lake, an impossibly lengthy plank speared outwards powerfully from the lip of the ship. the wood of it glittered slightly with an icy dampness—it thudded dully onto the rough sands, burying its nose slightly. soon, an unchoreographed stampede of heavy-soled boots collided with its surface, carrying a collection of fierce-looking teenagers towards the awed hogwarts students. heavy, fur-lined cloaks in a saturated, bloody scarlet hung over the broad shouldered durmstrang students, whose heads had been covered, also, by oddly structured hats in matching red fabric and furry lining.

durmstrang seemed to emit a far more brooding image compared to the delicate french—none shivered (draco even noticed a few of them removing their hats, showing hair neatly shorn or elaborately braided) as a great blast of wind swept over the grounds. they whispered in low voices amongst themselves; the sharp tones of an eastern european language biting into draco's senses, their skin rivalling the paleness of his own. then, the rather sparse crowd of students parted. a slender man, his thinning hair and goatee cloud-white, strode confidently towards dumbledore.

"how are you, my dear fellow, how are you?" he said heartily. dumbledore embraced him as an old, friendly acquaintance would.

"blooming," he responded. "thank you, professor karkaroff." unlike his students, durmstrang's headmaster boasted a fine cloak made entirely of silver fur that matched the colour of his hair. the skin of his face seemed unnaturally stretched upwards, and draco thought he appeared as if a gentle push might manage to knock him clean onto his buttocks. he pondered on the possibility of his attention durmstrang instead of hogwarts—and ultimately decided he would rather omit seeing karkaroff on a regular basis.

the durmstrang population crunched across the rough sand of the bank; made their way towards the warm light of the awaiting castle. with a surprised jolt, draco (and many other enthusiastic hogwarts students) spied a cunningly familiar figure among them: his steps turned outwards slightly, and his thick, muscled arms swinging leisurely from his wide shoulders. the famous bulgarian seeker, viktor krum, strutted among the rest of his peers towards hogwarts—he was unmistakable. then, upon approval of professor mcgonagall, the castle welcomed its usual occupants upon their return. no one remained outside.