Chapter Text
“Shove off, Mudblood,” Draco sneers as he shoulders past you in the cold corridors of the dungeons.
Potions had just ended, and you and your fellow Gryffindor friends huddled together outside the classroom to discuss the scent of your Amortentia potion that Professor Snape had assigned.
Your thoughts drift away from the boring things Lavender is saying about how her crush of the week smells like old-spice, and your mind is filled with the sharp scent of green apples, expensive hair gel, and a cutting edge of mint.
“Y/n, come on ,” Lavender exclaims, tugging on your robes as she and the rest of your posse begin to head up toward the sunny courtyard.
“Sorry,” you mutter as you shake your head to rid yourself of the thoughts that always seem to linger in your mind.
“Are you going to the Slytherin versus Gryffindor match tonight?” Ginny asks as she comes up behind you from where she was talking to Neville.
A blur of green robes fluttering past you suddenly flashes through your mind and you have to take a deep breath before mustering up the power to form a coherent response, “Yeah, I’ll be there! Go Gryffindor!”
You feel like a fraud as Ginny beams at you and slaps you on the back before she races up the stairs ahead of you, turning over her shoulder to yell at the rest of the class, “Party in the Gryffindor common room after we KICK ASS!”
The hallway erupts with cheers and sparks from wands all around you.
You sigh and think to yourself, this is gonna be a long day .
~~~
“GO GO GRYFFINDOR GO!”
Parvati nudges your shoulder, mentioning something about Ginny’s elaborate broom trick, you mutter out an agreement, but your eyes have been fixated on a certain lithe figure with blonde hair the whole game.
Green robes flutter in the distance, but you can see the sheer determination in Draco’s eyes glinting in the setting sun as he scans the quidditch pitch for the golden snitch.
The moment he sees it, his body tenses and you can tell he will do anything to catch it.
You feel like he turns his burning gaze at you for a split second before taking off at incredible speed towards his prize, but the intensity of his grey stare and the wink he shot your way must have been just fabrications of your overactive imagination.
~~~
The raging music in the common room had gotten too loud, and you had to step out of the room to get some fresh air.
Ginny declared that even though Slytherin had won the match because “Bloody Snotty Malfoy” caught the snitch, the Gryffindors would still throw a rager to drown their sorrows in Firewhiskey and Weird Sisters albums.
You smile at the thought of the match, but not because of how great Gryffindor played, regardless of their loss, but rather because of how Draco looked as he stretched out his hand to snatch the snitch from the air as he plummeted toward the ground at a breathtaking speed.
“What are you smiling about, Mudblood?” a familiar steely voice says as you’re ripped out of your daydream.
Flushed and filled with bravado from the Firewhisky you drank before leaving the party, you smirk and reply back, “I have a name you know, Malfoy .”
Your smirk darkens as you ponder over the way his name rolls off your tongue so effortlessly. The Firewhiskey makes you think about the other things your tongue could be doing to him, but his response brings you back to the conversation you’re having.
“I know your name. I just don’t think you’ve earned my respect yet for me to call you by it.”
You realize that he has gotten close enough to you that you can see the slight flush of his cheeks and smell the heavy scent of Firewhisky in his breath, mingling sweetly with your own.
It would be so easy to lean forward and steal the snarky look on his face from him, but you can’t muster enough courage to press your lips to his, so you just look into his beautiful steely grey eyes with a dark stare that you hope looks intimidating.
“I guess I’ll just have to earn it from you then,” you snap back at him without breaking eye contact.
He licks his lips, looking deeply into your eyes before he pushes back from the wall he had you cornered against and smiles evilly.
“I guess you will, Mudblood .”
You gasp for air you didn’t know you needed as he slowly saunters away, his disheveled quidditch robes billowing behind him, displaying his broad shoulders and slim waist.
Fuck
. You think to yourself.
What have I gotten myself into?