Gaunt ~ Book 2

Twenty-Four~Malfoy

a/n: Same reminder as usual, I'm combining  J.K. Rowling's work with my own. Hope you enjoy! (I know I'm mixing things up here so please bear with me)

"Training for the ballet, Potter?" I yelled as Potter did a stupid twirl in midair to dodge a Bludger. He sped away, glaring back at me. I laughed at him.

For a moment Potter hung in the air, watching me.

WHAM.

The Bludger had hit him. I started laughing harder as he slid sideways on his broom, one knee still crooked over it, his right arm dangling uselessly at his side. Potter swerved away from the Bludger which had come back to attack again.

Through a haze of rain I saw him dive for me. My eyes shot open with fear. He's attacking me!

"What the —" I gasped, careening out of Potter's way. I watched Potter extend his good arm and grabbed something. My face paled as he hit the ground. He caught the Snitch. There was a good deal of whistling and shouting from the Slytherin end. Wait, the Slytherin end? Potter just caught the Snitch! Then Lee Jordan's voice ripped through the stadium.

"Slytherin wins — 260 to 250."

We won! I followed the rest of the whooping Slytherin Quidditch team to the ground. Take that Potter! You think you can win! But money does help! And parents. That too. Slytherin fans stormed onto the Quidditch field and lifted the Slytherin team onto their shoulders. Marcus Flint whooped and pounded the air with his fist.

As we pass the group of Gryffindors, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaws I yelled, "TAKE THAT POTTER!"

The Slytherins burst into laughter.

"Good one, Draco!" someone called from nearby.

When we got set down outside the dressing room, I was one of the first ones inside. My usually slicked back blonde hair had turned into the definition of a swamp in the rain. I pushed most of it out of my eyes and pulled on my robes. I'll shower off sometime before dinner. I hurried out into the crowd, pulling my robes around me. I couldn't wait to tell Father about this. He'll be very pleased.

I pushed through the crowd, reveling in the win. We actually have a chance of winning now. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff will be easy to beat now that we've beaten Potter. He can't be the hero now.

"The only reason Slytherin won was because of Marvolo Gaunt," a Slytherin said up ahead. "Sure, everyone helped, but he did the most of it."

"Not everyone helped," his friend said. "Did you see Draco Malfoy? He didn't even do his job! The only thing he did was taunt Potter. The only reason he's on the team is because his daddy has some cash."

I stopped. People walked around me, all talking about the game or how spectacular Harry Potter was. Did you see Draco Malfoy? He didn't even do his job! The only thing he did was taunt Potter. The only reason he's on the team is because his daddy has some cash. Is that really what people think of me? That I'm only here because of money? And how can Marvolo Gaunt be better than me? I mean, he's pureblood and smart and everything, but that's it. He's poorer than the Weasley's and that's saying something.

The only thing that made me go inside is the rain. I'm not going to go to the party Marcus Flint yelled down the Slytherin table about at dinner. I don't want to know who else believes what those people said. I just changed into pajamas and went to bed, covering my head with a spare pillow to block out the noise. I'll tell Father about the win in the morning. He won't know about what the other Slytherins said. He can't know.

The next morning I could barely eat my toast and eggs. Pansy and Blaise tried to cheer me up but it didn't work. Slytherin students won't stop congratulating everyone on the Quidditch team except me. I keep trying to explain this to my friends but they keep saying stuff like "They're just thinking of something really good to say to you!" or "They just want to save you for last, don't worry about it."

"But I can't not worry about it!" I told them, slightly panicking. "I told you, some Slytherin's said I'm only on the team because I have money!"

"Yeah, but that's only some Slytherins, not all of them," said Blaise.

Crabbe and Goyle grunted in agreement. I picked up my toast and glared at it.

"Please eat something, Draco," Pansy pleaded. "You're probably really hungry from yesterday."

I turned my glare on her, "You sound like my mother."

She blushed and returned to her scrambled eggs in silence. 

"She is right, Draco," said Blaise. "You barely ate any dinner."

"Fine." I said. He returned to his food and I dropped the piece of toast onto my plate. I wish I hadn't joined the Quidditch team. I wish I hadn't wanted to one-up Potter. 'Cause now, he's in the hospital wing, and even though we won, I'm hated more than I hate him. By my own side.