❝ 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 2 : SCENE 1 : CHAPTER 65
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Early the next morning (perhaps too early), Y/N stood in the Owlery, grumpily yawning as she tied the thirty-fifth letter of the day to some random school owl, who was too eager to get out and fly off to deliver said letter. Finally securing it, she let him off, groaning as she stretched her arms out before beckoning over an equally as grumpy Hedwig.
"Let me guess: angsty Harry?" she asked her, stroking her feathers lightly before feeding her her favorite food. "I'm assuming he's writing to Sirius?"
"How'd you know?" asked Harry's voice from behind her.
Y/N turned, brushing her hair out of her face. She shrugged. "Intuition, I guess. I mean, who else would you be writing to? The Dursleys?"
Harry let out a harsh laugh and then stretched out his arm to Hedwig, who promptly turned away from him and showed him her tail. Y/N grinned.
"Perhaps you should be nicer to your pets, Harry?" she suggested, urging Hedwig to fly over to her owner. In the end, she complied, only after giving Y/N an affectionate nuzzle with a spiteful look to Harry. "For example, even when Goldfish stabs me in the back and sometimes leaves me for Dra- Malfoy, I still offer him treats every day."
"Whatever," Harry grumbled as Hedwig flew off, and they linked arms as they descended the tall staircase of the Owlery. "I bet you're wondering why I'm writing to Sirius?"
"Yeah, I'm just the nosiest person alive," she said sarcastically, shivering as a breeze blew past them. She huddled closer to the lanky giant (as he, like everyone else in her year, towered over her) as they slowly made their way for the castle, taking their time. "But, really – what's so important that you're writing to him this early in the morning?"
"So I told him about my scar hurting over the summer –"
"Your scar was hurting over the summer?!"
He looked down at her, exasperated. "Yes, now keep up. Anyways, I told him my scar was hurting, and he just sent back a letter last night, after you headed off to bed. Here –"
He pulled a folded sheet of parchment from his pocket and handed it to her, walking slower as she read.
Harry –
I'm flying north immediately. This news about your scar is the latest in a series of strange rumors that have reached me here. If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore – they're saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is.
I'll be in touch soon. My best to Ron and Hermione – do tell Y/N she's a blithering idiot, though. I've seen the Daily Prophet, and I think that Malfoy boy will be her downfall. Anywho – keep your eyes open, Harry.
