REQUIREMENTS | DRACO MALFOY

6 | Shove off, Malfoy

Y/N

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JUST AS I SUSPECTED, Harry asked me out to the Quidditch Pitch.

It wasn't even a very good proposal, because I barely walked out of the Potion's classroom when Potter shoved himself into my face and screamed 'FOLLOW ME!'.

To avoid the concerned looks of my students, I grabbed his hand with a laugh, following him out of the school and towards the giant stadium I so frequently visited.

"I don't play Quidditch, Harry," I laughed, tilting my head to look up at the towering Gryffindor pike we passed by, "if this is your way of trying to get me on a broom, I'm going to decline."

The boy laughed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "I know better than to put you on a broom."

"Good, and don't you dare bring up why."

I shouldn't have said that, because Harry obviously was going to bring up why. It wasn't as embarrassing in the moment, but now that I've been teased about it relentlessly by my friends, I shudder to remember it.

"Could it be perhaps..." he teased, tapping his chin in pretend thought, "that you were flirting with Oliver Wood, got your foot stuck to his broom, and accidentally got dragged through the mud?"

Cue the shudder.

"Thanks for bringing it back up," I scoffed, nudging him in the shoulder, "at least Wood apologized."

Harry grinned, his eyes glistening deviously, "I still haven't."

"And why would you need to?"

There was a flicker of suspicion in his gaze, and he brushed his hair off to the side to cover his scar. Whenever Harry did that, it meant he was hiding something. How did I know this? Because the bloke would steal my pumpkin pasties every single feast day when we were younger.

"I'm just saying," he smirked, shrugging his shoulders, "who do you think tied your shoelace to his broom in the first place?

...

I didn't need to let it click, before I found myself chasing the boy around the field with venomous rage.

"Harry Potter, get back here!" I yelled, my boots thudding against the grass as I sped after him, "I'm going to kill you!"

He tilted his head back to laugh as he ran, "that's what you get for flirting with Wood!"

"I can't believe you!"

"Then believe it!"

"You're such a jealous prick!"

"Then deal with it!"

I didn't know why I thought I could ever catch the prodigy Quidditch player, but I kept running after him until I collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion.

Staring up at the clear, blue sky, I watched as Harry skidded to a stop next to me, tilting his head to stare at where I lay. He looked silly from this angle, but still cute.

I held out my arm.

"Sit," I said, smiling, "I promise I won't kill you."

I was going to kill him.

Harry puckered his lips teasingly, clasping his hand in mine and giving it a firm shake. I grinned back at his silhouette figure, the sun shining down onto him like a spotlight, squeezing his palm in what he thought was infatuation.

I lied.

It was revenge.

Pulling my arm down harshly, Harry went toppling onto his back, his robes tangled up in his arms as he clunked against the ground. That's what he got for embarrassing the hell out of me back in first year.