Draya Malfoy

9 - And the Fourth Champion is...

"Harry Potter!"

All eyes were on the Boy Who Lived. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the Great Hall.

"Of course he's a Champion," I gritted, clenching my shaking fists in my lap. "I mean, I did say he could never resist a chance to show off, didn't I?"

"You think he did it on purpose, then?" Daphne breathed, her eyes widening in awe as we watched Dumbledore practically kick Harry towards the door where the other Champions had just disappeared through.

"I highly doubt it," Blaise murmured, idly picking at his teeth with a cocktail stick, "the poor kid looks like a lamb going to the slaughter."

"Blimey, though," Theo snickered, his normally dull eyes lighting up, "I wouldn't want to be in his shoes. Dumbledore looks as though he might kill a man tonight."

"Does anyone want to finish my pumpkin pie?" Pansy asked lazily, pushing her barely touched plate away from her. "I think I might go on a diet before I get too fat for my ball gown."

Goyle made a grunting noise and shot out a meaty hand, swiftly grabbing the plate of pie. I watched as he picked up a knife and fork and cut it in two before passing the other half to Crabbe, who thanked him with a grunt.

******

The following Monday, I skipped down to breakfast, my bag packed and my step lighter than it had been in ages.

"What are you grinning about?" Theo asked suspiciously as he noisily squirted tomato ketchup on his Cheerios.

"Just keen to start the working week," I said airily, letting my bag fall heavily at my feet, the contents inside making an ominous clinking sound.

Pansy raised an eyebrow as her gaze flicked towards it. "Where were you last night, Dray?" she drawled. "Your bed wasn't slept in."

"Oh, you know, just busy," I said dismissively, reaching for the pot of coffee - I was going to need a lot of the black stuff today.

"All night long?" Theo asked. "Come on, Dray, who is it? Do spill the tea. Did a certain surly Bulgarian get lucky, or was it one of those pretty Beauxbatons boys?"

I blinked up at him. What the hell was he talking about?

"He wants to know if you got laid." Blaise helpfully explained with an amused glint in his eye.

"Not everything has to be about sex," I said, wrinkling my nose in disgust. "And besides, I'm only fourteen. If you must know, I was working on a project."

"A project? What project?" Daphne asked, beginning to hyperventilate. "Was it for Transfiguration? Or Charms? Oh, please don't say Potions - it's first thing and Snape is going to kill me because I haven't done it!"

"Relax," I drawled. "This is a personal project."

I glanced up at the Gryffindor table where everyone was slapping Harry jovially on the back, and I felt my lips pull into a wicked grin.

******

"Oi! Diggory!" I shouted. "Wait up!"

The Hufflepuff slowed down and glanced back over his shoulder. Confusion flitted over his face as he came to a complete halt and turned around, which I suppose was hardly unexpected because I have literally never spoken to him before in my life.

I caught up with him, reaching into my bag.

"I have something for you," I murmured, pulling out a large round badge. "They're to be worn in your honour, to show our support."