The Eye of the Snake [Draco Malfoy]

o16: Bludger to the Side, Fist to the Face

November came quickly, October seeming to have come and gone in the blink of an eye. Melissa had become rather used to Draco being around and looked for him when he wasn’t with her, finding security in him being with her. They’d spent Halloween together wandering the hallways and scaring the younger years unmercifully. She’d spent nearly every Saturday morning in Professor McGonagall’s office attempting to become an Animagus, which suddenly McGonagall had been in favor of—finding it might come in handy in the coming months.

Saturday hit, the day of the first Quidditch game: Slytherin versus Gryffindor. Melissa was sitting at herhouse table, shaking lightly. Cassie and Draco at her sides, while Ayanna sat with Luna—who had a hat with alife-sized lion head on it. She couldn’t eat, already feeling as though she were going to be sick, so she pushed her eggs around her plate.

“You need to eat.” Draco said and took a drink of his pumpkin juice.

“Do you want me to vomit on the pitch?” she asked, looking at him as though he were crazy. He shook his head and went back to instructing Crabbe and Goyle to aim directly at Harry and Ron, and whispering—while Melissa was freaking-out to Cassie—to watch Melissa carefully. The Neanderthals nodded their heads in understanding and Draco nodded back, smirking at Ron who looked as though he were feeling about the same as Melissa.

“C’mon,” Montague said, with Pucey and Bletchley behind him. “We’ve got to check the pitch and conditions.” He said and Draco stood up, Melissa took a deep breath and stood up as well.

“Maybe mess with Gryffindor a little as well,” said Bletchley with a snigger, looking at Alicia Spinnet who he’d hexed early the day before. Once Melissa stood, she faked her confidence and stood tally as they walked past they’re classmates. Once they were out of the Great Hall, Draco’s hand found Melissa’s and she gripped it tightly, her heart racing as fast as the wings of a humming bird.

“I’m going to be sick.” She said as they reached the pitch.

“You’ll do fine.” Draco whispered, looking down at her firmly. “If you don’t we’ll lose.” He said simply and her heart and face dropped.

“Thank you for that pep talk, Draco.” Melissa snapped sarcastically. The team changed into their uniforms, Melissa having some difficulty with her uniform. Once she had it on it flowed over her, fair too large for her petit frame.

“This is not going to work.” She said shaking her head and the rest of the team laughed cruelly at her. “Oh keep laughing, when we lose because you gits couldn’t help me get this thing to fit properly it won’t be so funny then, will it?” she hissed and they abruptly stopped laughing. Goyle took out his wand and Melissa instantly jumped behind Bletchley.

“That is not going to happen.” She said, peeking over Bletchley’s shoulder seeing Pucey take his wand away.

“We don’t want her incapacitated.” He hissed at Crabbe. Montague snickered, smirking at Melissa who crouched back down behind Bletchley.

“Watch it, Montague,” Draco hissed violently. Montague held his hands up as a white flag and took out his wand, walking over to Melissa who was rather frightened by him.

“Stand still,” Montague snapped and she did so unwillingly. She closed her eyes tightly as he flicked his wand a couple times. Her uniform shrunk, fitting her perfectly. She smiled and looked down at the uniform, much more satisfied now.

“Thank you,” she said with a nod and walked over to the brooms, grabbing her Firebolt. They walked out to the Quidditch pitch and Slytherin exploded into a roar of cheers and clapping. The rest of the houses—save for a couple Ravenclaws—booed in disgust at them.