Draco's Mudblood - Draco Malfoy Fan Fiction - *Year One*

Sick of You

Isobel wasn't one for begging, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Madam Hooch, please. I really, really don't want to."

The woman, short grey and silver hair styled sharply, shook her head. "I'm sorry miss Anderson, but you have to participate in the flying lesson today. Unless you had a letter from the nurse," she said, giving Isobel a pointed stare, "for a legitimate reason, you cannot be excused from class."

Isobel took in a deep breath and ordered her points logically. If there was one thing that she was good at, it was convincing people with basic logic. "I know, but Madam, you don't understand, I don't want to use a broomstick! There's no reason for me to learn to use one if I won't ever actually use that information! Not to mention, without me in the class you could spend your time teaching the students who actually want to learn! It's a win-win!"

Madam Hooch looked away from the rest of her students walking down the hill and gave Isobel a stern but sweet smile. "Miss Anderson, I understand that you have no interest in using a broom now or ever. And I understand your points, I do. I also," she added, "understand that flying can be scary."

"I'm not-"

She lifted a hand to cut Isobel off. "Regardless, Miss Anderson, you have to take this class. If you don't take it now, you have to take it later. You cannot graduate without at least one year of flying lessons, whether you want to take it now with your classmates, or in six years with a new group of eleven year olds." She shrugged, clearly having won the debate. "Your choice."

With that she took off over the stretch of green to order the others into two lines, leaving Isobel to step up to face her inevitable doom. Said doom, a broomstick only a snip away from falling apart, mocked her.

"What's got you so mad?" Blaise Zambini, followed by Theodore Nott, walked up to Isobel and stood beside her in line. The act would lead most to think the pair were friends, but he still had his signature look of disgust on.

"This stupid thing," Isobel said, kicking the broom at her feet with her toe. "I can't believe we're actually required to learn how to ride one of these."

"Oh no, has miss goody-two-shoes found something she's not good at?"

Draco Malfoy cackled after his own 'joke', backed by a chorus of similar cackles from Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe. The three were inseparable, from what Isobel could tell, and all three reeked of snooty attitudes and a god complex.

Isobel glared at him.

It made him laugh harder.

Blaise bumped his shoulder into hers, guiding her from Malfoy's group. "Ignore him. Any attention you give him is like cocaine."

Isobel tried. She really, really did. The first five minutes of class was a refresher of the week prior, and every second was absolute torture for her. It was easier this time, but as she got closer to being asked to mount the broom, her hands began to shake harder.

And finally Madam Hooch's whistle shrieked, and more than half the group was off the ground.

Isobel was not.

It was like her body had turned to stone. Her hands shook and her chest heaved, but she couldn't move a muscle. The ground seemed to stretch out a million miles before her, making the castle seem like a mere speck on the horizon. The broom in her hand felt like it was made of ice, sending chills through her veins.

Isobel had purposefully avoided eating a single thing in the off-chance that Madam Hooch wouldn't let her get out of flying. The humiliation of throwing up in the last class was mostly saved by Neville Longbottom's broken wrist, but it didn't stop the seed of embarrassment from growing in her stomach. It was easy to brush off her vomiting as a response to the sound of Neville's wrist cracking on impact, but today...

Today she would be the centre of attention, and there would be no excuse for her to hide behind if she threw up again.

Now, though, she stumbled and watched the ground twist under her shoes.

Malfoy's voice rang out in her ears. "What's wrong with her? What, has she never touched a broom before?"

Even as the ground beneath her swayed, Isobel lifted a foot and mounted her broom. She squinted to refocus her darkening vision. Must be cloudy out...

Someone lowered on their broom beside her, but it only made the shrinking feeling in her gut worsen, like the sky was coming down to crush her. Why couldn't she hear what they were saying? The grass wasn't moving but it sounded like there was a hurricane in her ears...

"Oh look, one of her boyfriends is there to help her!"

Of course she would hear Malfoy's awful taunts. What was his problem? They'd barely spoken three words to each other all year, and now he was bullying her? What'd she ever done to him?

"God, Malfoy, I am so sick of you!" She spun on her heel to face him, but the earth kept spinning, spinning, spinning...

"Watch out Zambini! She might throw up on you...yo...y...bleeegh!"

Even as her feet gave out from under her, she vowed to kill Draco Malfoy.

- - -

"You can't skip meals, miss Anderson. I understand you were scared to get sick again, but without food in your system your blood sugar goes down, causing you to faint like you did earlier. Promise me," Madam Pomfrey said warmly, helping Isobel to lower the goblet of water she'd been drinking from, "that you won't ever do that again. If you'd actually been in the air when you fainted, you could have been severely hurt."

Isobel swallowed the last of her water and nodded solemnly. She understood why she fainted, but everything still seemed so blurry. Had that really happened?

"I've got to go finish up a few things at my desk, alright? If you need anything, let me know dear."

Isobel nodded again with difficulty and settled down into the cot she'd been situated with. How had she ended up here? Last she remembered, Malfoy was...

"Mister Malfoy! What are you doing here? Not another flying accident, I hope." There was more discussion from the other side of the room before Madam Pomfrey stepped aside, allowing a very uncomfortable Malfoy to walk past her...

Right to Isobel?

"What do you want," Isobel spit. If he could be rude, so could she.

His face scrunched up. "Excuse you-" he stopped. With a rather frustrated exhale, he restarted. "Look, I... I apologise... for my actions earlier. I shouldn't have said those things."

If Isobel could have captured this moment, she could have made millions off the headline 'Draco Malfoy Apologises for the First Time'. "You're right, you shouldn't have."

He looked more peeved. "I'm trying to be nice here, you could at least do the same."

"Fine," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "What do you want, then?"

If possible, he looked more uncomfortable than before. "Madam Hooch was really, really angry with how I talked to you before, so... so..."

"Go on with it."

"So... she's given me a detention."

Isobel choked on her own breath, laughing. "Oh Merlin, you? A detention? Can I go? I need to see this-"

"With you. A detention with you. She wants me to spend an hour teaching you how to not be so rubbish at flying."

Isobel couldn't decide on leaving her mouth open or closing it in shock. "No."

"Don't you think I tried saying no?"

"But- no! Absolutely not."

"Again, I tried that." Regaining himself, Malfoy squared his shoulders. "I don't think you actually have a say in this, but you're welcome to try and convince Madam Hooch. Otherwise, I'll see you next Wednesday before dinner." He curtly turned on his heel and strode out of the hospital wing, leaving Isobel to – once again – vow to kill him.