Draconian

Slytherin Prince? It Must Be A Slytherin Thing.

“What? Malfoy gave you detention?” Ron and Harry appeared behind Hermione. 

“Yes,” I sighed again, not wanting to recall the events of that afternoon.

“I bet the bloody bastard just gave you detention for not doing all the work on your project,” Ron snickered.

“Yeah, I’ve seen him abusing his prefect powers all the time.  When he’s not lolling around with Crabbe and Goyle, he’s busy torturing first years,” Harry agreed. 

“No!  He’s actually really contributed to our project!” I immediately snapped.  The three of them looked perplexed.

“He just gave me detention because I insulted Pansy Parkinson,” I informed, silently praying that they didn’t think I was defending Malfoy. 

“Hm.  I wasn’t sure if Draco and Pansy were dating, but that seems to verify it,” Hermione said aloud to no one in particular.  It made sense, but I felt uncomfortable with the fact.  Draco could do much better. 

“Did you just say, ‘Draco could do much better’?” asked Ron, quite unbelievably if I must say so myself.  Wait, had I just said that out loud?  No way.  I didn’t want Harry to get the wrong impression! Stay calm!  Stay calm.  Sort this situation out!

“Well, yeah.  I mean he’s alright.  I worked with him for two weeks, and he’s infuriating but not awful.  I just think he can do better than Pugface Pansy.  She’s a complete bitch.  Malfoy’s bad, but he’s not nearly as bad as her.”

Dumbledore thankfully saved me from further interrogation by ringing the dinner bell.  The feast was served.  Ron immediately dashed over to the Gryffindor table.  Harry and Hermione smiled and waved before following Ron’s footsteps. 

I greedily devoured my dinner and then proceeded to my dorm.  I spoke with Padma for a few minutes before drifting off into a deep slumber.

 When I woke up, I groaned deeply since today was the day of the presentation.  I hoped Malfoy wouldn’t screw up anything.  After getting ready, I headed off to the library before classes.  I didn’t have any homework to complete, but I wanted a nice ambience where I could peacefully sketch. 

As I was sketching sets of eyes, I heard several hushed voices from behind me.  I decided to eavesdrop since I didn’t have anything more productive to do.  I inconspicuously glanced behind me to determine the identities of the people I would be listening to for the next hour.  I caught sight of the backs of four fourth year Slytherin boys.

“Have you heard about Pansy?” one boy eagerly asked.

“What about her?” 

“She’s no longer the Slytherin Princess.”

What the hell?  Who in the right mind would call Pansy a princess?

“How did she take the break-up?” another boy queried.

“Not good.  Definitely not good.  She was crying all night.  I heard her screeches throughout the common room.  She made it clear that she was mad at him.” 

“I wonder why Malfoy broke up with her.  She was basically his minion,” they bellowed, causing Madam Pince to give them a murderous look.

“Who knows?  Maybe the Slytherin Prince has his sight set on someone else.”

I stifled a laugh.  Malfoy, the Slytherin Prince. HAHAHAHAHA.  This was too good.  Who even came up with these ridiculous titles?  It must be a Slytherin thing.  They had misinterpreted the entire situation.  Pansy had compelled Malfoy to break up with her.  Too bad Goyle couldn’t be here. 

I looked down at my sketchbook and noticed I had drawn Draco’s piercing blue eyes.  I blushed involuntarily since I had been meaning to draw Harry’s green ones.  The boys’ conversation must have distracted me and caused me to draw Draco’s eyes subconsciously. 

I gathered my books and book bag and left for McGonagall’s classroom.  I would be thirty minutes early, but I really didn’t have anything better to do.  When I entered the classroom I was bemused.  Several pairs of students, including Padma and her partner, were practicing their routines.  I had not imagined Malfoy to be there, either.  I sat down next to him and overcame a wave of muted nervousness.  Public speaking and presentations were definitely not my forte.  I detested public humiliation, which I had suffered frequently at my previous wizarding school. 

I think Malfoy detected my anxiety because offered me some candies, which was an action I would never expect vain, self-centered, stuck-up Draco Malfoy to do. 

“Um, these aren’t poisoned or anything, are they?” I asked, quite anxiously, peering at the tiny, round-shaped mints in Malfoy’s hand. 

“Oh, grow up, Silverlake.  Like I’d want to poison you before our project,” he sneered.  I wondered if deep inside he was just as anxious as me, and insulting others was a form of release. 

My thoughts were interrupted as Professor McGonagall entered the crowded room.  She peered at her list and announced, “Settle down, class.  We’ll have Miss Silverlake and Mr. Malfoy’s presentation first.”

I sighed, picking up the essay and my wand, wondering what awaited me, or rather, us.

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All characters except my OC Ami Silverlake belong to J.K. Rowling.

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