❝ 𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘰𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦, 𝘬 -𝘪 -𝘴 -𝘴 -𝘪 -𝘯 -𝘨! ❞
In which a filthy Mudblood is sorted into the House of Slytherin - with, of course, Draco Malfoy.
draco malfoy x reader
golden era
VERY SLOW-BURN ROM...
LITTLE MISS MUDBLOOD – ACT 1 : SCENE 3 : CHAPTER 36
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Y/N ate lunch in the Hall, studying over her Arithmancy notes with interest. She and Daphne sat in a comfortable silence, but Theodore and Blaise were out on the Quidditch Pitch, readying for their first match – which was going to be in absolutely horrid weather.
Professor Snape approached Y/N, an unreadable look on his face. He glanced at the Quidditch Captain badge on her robes before stating, "Your Seeker complains of an injured arm. We're rescheduling Slytherin's game against Gryffindor until after his arm is healed."
Y/N looked up sharply, eyes ablaze and calculating.
"Don't. We still have Higgs," she said, a stern edge to her voice. Snape looked unimpressed.
"Higgs is out cold with dragon pox. Madam Pomfrey estimates another two weeks until he wakes," he said, and he whisked away with a flare of his robes.
Y/N seethed as she watched Malfoy enter the Hall, his pale cheeks pinkened and his eyes alight with glee. Theodore and Blaise walked on either side of him, which angered Y/N even more.
The table shook as Y/N scrambled out of her seat, fists clenched. Daphne pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows, eyes widening as she threw her nose in a book. Although, she couldn't help but watch, like the rest of the Hall, as Y/N stormed up to Malfoy, snatched his wrist and dragged him out of the Hall.
And then they heard loud voices.
"What the fuck, Malfoy!" said Y/N, eyes swirling with rage. He looked taken aback.
"What?"
"What? What?" her voice boiled. "You – you fucking coward! You're such a fucking coward! What, are you scared to be beaten by Potter, again? Are you scared that you'll be completely daft again and just let him take the stupid Snitch like a little git? Are you –"
"Don't fucking talk to me like that!" he spat, eyes blazing like a dark storm. "I'm not afraid of stupid little pothead!"
"Oh, right," Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms. She tore her eyes away from Malfoy's, rolling them with disbelief. "Because complaining that your arm is still injured over two months after a small scrape and calling off our first match against Gryffindor isn't a cowardly dick move. Because you don't get like this every time someone mentions that Harry's a better Seeker than you –"
"Potter is not a better Seeker than me!" Malfoy growled, shoving Y/N against the wall. She waited for impact, but it never came; Malfoy's arm was there to take the impact, but it soon disappeared. His hand took her neck gently but hidden strength hid behind it.
Y/N swallowed down the saliva building up in her mouth. His jaw ticked repeatedly; a vein throbbed in his forehead; his face and ears blazed red; and his nose flared with each noisy breath. He bared his pearly white teeth through pink, curled lips, and his hands would tighten briefly before loosening. And then his eyes – oh, his eyes. They held most of his anger, flickering dangerously around before settling on Y/N's. She drew in a sharp breath; his pupils dilated, turning the silvers of his eyes black.
