Chapter 1
“Malfoy is a jerk.” You look to your side and see a frowning Hermione and a scowling Ron. You turn to your other side and Harry is just staring at you.
“Why do you say that?”
Hermione gestures across the Great Hall to where Parkinson is almost throwing herself all over Malfoy. “He’s constantly trying to obviously seduce you, whether it’s for only a one night stand or something actually substantial I have no idea, and yet he’s letting some other woman grope him.”
You look at the two and raise a brow. Malfoy doesn’t look happy with the situation in any shape or form and you feel a flicker of humor about it. “He actually looks pretty put out about it, Hermione, I don’t think he’s enjoying it. Also,” you look at her curiously, “what do you mean he’s trying to seduce me? He’s constantly trying to pick on me. I think he’s just bored of Harry’s reaction to be honest,” you thumb at Harry who gives a small bark of laughter, “and decided to try for a weaker target.”
“You’re definitely not a weaker target, I’m just waiting for the moment you snap,” Harry huffs out in laughter and you give him a sharp grin.
“Y/N, do you seriously not see it?” Hermione frowns at you and even Ron rolls his eyes as he continues eating his rather large plate of food. Hermione gives a short glance of disgust of what she probably thinks are horrid table manners, and then turns back to you. “It’s like watching a boy pull a girls pigtails, he’s trying to get your attention, even if it’s rather childish.”
You grin. “I think it’s rather funny you seem to think he’s interested in anything other than being an utter prat towards me. You do realize I’m a muggleborn, right? Somebody like him can only have disgust for someone like me.” Harry coughs on a laugh and you glare at him. “You can’t possibly agree with her?”
He shrugs but says nothing and instead shovels food in his mouth so there’s no chance you can force an answer out of him. Before you can say anything else a voice interrupts the conversation between the four of you.
“Miss Y/L/N, it seems you aren’t able to tell the difference between the house tables. Do you perhaps need a map to find where you should be sitting?”
You look up to see a glowering Snape looking down his nose at you all. “Professor,” you give a bright grin, “I thought Dumbledore was boasting about house unity? I thought I’d help to promote it. Besides, is there a rule I’m not allowed to sit at the Gryffindor table?”
His glare deepens as he sneers. “It seems you have made it a personal mission to argue. I do hope you can learn some manners before the next class period.”
“And I hope you could be happy to see someone trying to follow through on school goals.”
Harry gave a snort but covered it with a cough causing Snape to turn his glare to the young lad. “Five point from Hufflepuff, Miss Y/L/N, for your rude manner, and five from Gyffindor, Mister Potter, for misconduct. Perhaps Miss Granger can find you a book on how to hold yourself respectfully, if she can manage it.”
And with that he turned and swept away, his cloak billowing behind him. Ron purses his lips after swallowing his mouthful. “Barmy bugger. Can’t stop taking points from everyone but Slytherins just because he can.”
Hermione sighs as she pokes at her meal. “Y/N was being rather rude, she shouldn’t have snapped at Professor Snape. And Harry needs to learn to respect him.”
“She wouldn’t have snapped at him if he hadn’t been rude first,” Harry says, giving you a slight bump with his shoulder in comfort, “and he’s always a git when it comes to me.” You just sigh and go back to actually eating instead of talking.
After a few bites you look up and see Malfoy looking at you with a frown and narrowed eyes. You smirk at him and he scoffs and turns away. You see Hermione giving you a look and you roll your eyes and finish your food. Utterly ridiculous, you think, ridiculous.
—
It’s later that day when you hear a shouted, “Y/L/N,” and when you turn and see Malfoy all you can do is groan. The other three don’t have the same classes as you this period, Herbology was the only class you shared with only Slytherins but it usually felt like it was more than enough. You wince to yourself as you think about how thankful you are that at least you don’t share potions with them.
“Y/L/N,” you hear again and you sigh as you look heavenward.
“Yes, Malfoy, what can I do for you, oh mighty master?”
He stops in front of you with a frown. “What kind of title is that? Is that some muggle saying?”
You give him a weary look as you ignore the question. “What do you want, Malfoy? As you can see I’m trying to make it to class on time. What can be so pressing that you’re going to risk us both being late and having Professor Sprout take points from both of us?”
He smirks. “As if you need any help with that with the way I saw Professor Snape telling you off earlier.”
“Ooh,” you say in a low voice, “were you watching me? How invasive.” You pretend to cover your bits and give a wicked grin at Malfoy’s bright blush. “So what do you need?”
He sneers at you. “That was extremely uncalled for, as if I’d be looking at you for any reason other than to watch you wallow in your despair of being a mudblood. Rather entertaining, I assure you,” he gives you a dark smirk.
You glare at him. “Malfoy, I don’t appreciate that. I’d rather you not say that again.”
He gives you a strange look you can’t decipher for only a split second, it almost looks sad, before it flashes off his face and is replaced by a dark glare. “My father was right, it seems. Mudbloods think they’re on the same level as those of us with clean blood.”
“Your father is a daft blighter and wouldn’t know his arse from his head,” you growl out. Then you sigh and your voice softens. “Malfoy, you don’t have to spew out the drivel that your father tries to shove in your head. You could be better than that,” you give him a sad look that he flinches at, “you know you can.”
He slowly lifts his hand, fingers slightly outstretched towards you, and you can feel the change in the air and the spark of hope that appears in your chest, before you both hear a high pitched bark of laughter down the hall and his hand immediately falls and a dark look covers his face.
“Draco,” Parkinson purrs as she sidles up to latch onto his arm, “what are you doing with the mudblood?”
“Just reminding her where her place in the world is.”
Your breath catches in your throat and you feel tears well up. Parkinson laughs. “Poor little mudblood, acting like you could befriend one of your betters.” Then she quirks her mouth. “Stick to your little friends, mudblood,” she spits out, “trash deserves trash after all.”
You don’t even remember what happens next, all you know is that Malfoy tries dragging you off Parkinson but you punch him in the nose causing him to let you go to grab his face before going back to grabbing Parkinson’s hair and trying to whip her around. She screams as you punch her more times than you can count before large hands grab you and yank you back. You turn and start scratching at the arms and then realize it’s Professor Lupin. You immediately burst into tears and shove your head into his chest as he wraps his arms around you.
When you turn to glance at the Slytherins behind you, you see Malfoy looking at you with the most painfully sad look you’ve ever seen and he was ignoring Parkinson who was being consoled by a fretting Professor Sprout. That doesn’t make you feel any better and you let Professor Lupin lead you away, leaving behind the Slytherin that hurt you so much.
Your heart constricts, wrapped in painful chains, and you have no idea why.
—
“I demand at, the very minimum, suspension, Headmaster! She attacked Miss Parkinson entirely unprovoked and is not the worse for wear!” You only look at the floor in front of you, face impassive, as Snape almost yells at Dumbledore.
“Severus,” Professor Sprout chirps, voice soft but stern, “I have talked to Miss Y/L/N, and while she did physically attack Miss Parkinson she was provoked.” She glares and cuts off Snape as he makes to interrupt her. “Being called a slur such as mudblood and terms like trash are highly insulting, and while I don’t condone or agree with Miss Y/L/N instigating such a fight I do feel that her punishment should not be so severe. Miss Parkinson had a broken nose and black eye, but that was quickly healed by Poppy.” And then her mouth tightens as she finishes with, “I’m sure you know the pain of such insults.”
He sneers at her and then turns to Dumbledore. “I do insist upon a proper punishment. Perhaps, as Pomona has requested, not a suspension.”
Dumbledore hums as he sits calmly in his chair, looking at you. “Miss Y/L/N,” he says in a soothing voice, “do you have anything to say about this?”
You glance up at him before looking back down. “No, sir.”
He nods thoughtfully. “I think,” he finally says, “an apology is in order.”
Snape almost barks out, “Is that all?! She assaulted a student!”
Dumbledore holds up a hand and slowly stands up. “Yes, yes, Severus, I know. I believe both deserve an apology from the other, and both deserve a punishment as well. I shall leave the punishment in both your hands, however,” he almost grins at Severus who scoffs. Professor Sprout hums out an agreement.
“I shall see to it that Parkinson serves a proper punishment,” Severus growls out and then turns to glare at you before stalking out of the office, cloak billowing behind him.
“Headmaster,” Professor Sprout says, “I believe I shall have a very willing assistant for the next month or so,” and she gives you a sweet smile. You give a brief nod and then look up at Dumbledore.
He smiles down at you. “It can be quite difficult to convince others to be your friend, Miss Y/L/N, when they are confused about their own feelings. Patience and kindness are quite powerful healing factors.” You quirk your eyebrow in confusion, but he only waves you and Professor Sprout off with a smile. “Hurry on to your next class, Miss /Y/L/N, I wouldn’t want you to be any later than you must.” You nod and then walk out, leaving Dumbledore and Professor Sprout to start a quiet conversation.
It’s almost ten minutes later when you walk into Defense Against the Dark Arts and see everyone in your year. A quick glance shows Hermione at the front of the classroom, an empty seat next to her, and Ron and Harry sitting at the table behind her. You quietly walk up to the front and are thankful that Professor Lupin only nods at you while continuing the lesson.
Hermione glances at you and you feel Harry and Ron staring intently at your back but you just pretend you don’t see anything and begin taking notes. A quick glance to the side and you see Malfoy sitting a few tables down, Zabini at his side and Parkinson nowhere to be found. A sick sense of satisfaction appears in your stomach and you’re instantly happy that she’s still in the Hospital Wing. You think you really shouldn’t feel glad about it, but decide you want to enjoy this feeling while it lasts.
After class is over Harry and Ron come to stand next to you while you and Hermione pack up your supplies.
“What happened?” Ron blurts and Harry elbows him in the side. Ron lets out a loud oof and rubs at his ribs while glaring at Harry. “‘M just curious,” he grumbles.
“Nothing much. Parkinson and I have to apologize to each other and then Professor Sprout has me serving out my punishment as an assistant to her while Professor Snape is going to serve out Parkinson’s.”
Hermione sighs in disappointment while Ron glares at Malfoy. “Guarantee the slimy git does nothing more than have her write a few lines.”
Harry looks at you in pity and you glare at him. “She deserved it. I’d do it again.”
Hermione sighs again as you all begin walking out of the classroom. “You shouldn’t have attacked Parkinson like that, regardless of whatever she said.” Then she frowns at you. “What did she say anyway?”
You avoid her eyes and mumble, “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”
“It was obviously something if it caused you to attack her like that, Y/N,” Harry says, and you grow irritated at him.
You’re about to respond when Malfoy steps in front of you. You all stop and you glare at the Slytherin. He opens his mouth, but doesn’t say anything. Instead he looks torn and his eyes are pained. You smirk at him. “What, Malfoy? Here to finish the job and say something else insulting? Should I punch you in the nose again?”
Harry looks at you in shock, and you realize nobody had known about you hitting Malfoy. You don’t understand why he told no one and it irritates you. He lets out a noise of frustration and says, “I didn’t mean for it to happen, Y/L/N, it’s not like I told Pansy to say that.”
“Perhaps,” you respond coolly, “but you certainly didn’t stop her. In fact, you seemed to egg her on, beginning the conversation for her to continue.” He clenches his hand and you grow more irritated, wondering what he could possibly be upset about in this whole situation. “Besides, it’s not like you care, Malfoy, you’re above me, remember?” You sneer at him and he flinches. “You said it yourself, I need to remember where my place in the world is, and you seem to think it’s below your feet.”
You step around him, avoiding his reaching hand trying to grab at your robe. Ron grabs it and tightens his grip causing Malfoy to draw back, while Harry’s wand is in his hand. Hermione grabs you by the robe and gently pushes you behind her. You feel your eyes start to water as you choke out, “Just leave me alone, Malfoy. You’ve made it perfectly clear what you think of me. I don’t need to be reminded.”
As you spin away the others follow you down the hall. Hermione grabs your hand and gently gives it a squeeze. “He’s really mucked this up,” she looks back at the blonde behind you all, “hasn’t he.” You say nothing.
—
Malfoy leaves you alone from then on, and after you and Parkinson begrudgingly apologize to each other, glaring the entire time, you serve out your punishment helping Professor Sprout for the next month or so. You’re surprised how calming you find it, cleaning the greenhouse and taking care of the plants. You and Neville grow closer, and it’s nice to have another friend. The Hufflepuffs have quietly rallied around you, doing what they can to gently help you out when you need it, making sure you don’t fall asleep in the common room, helping you with homework you’ve grown behind on, and Susan has even been making sure your favorite pastries are on the table most days when you come back from working with Professor Sprout. It’s nice, and you deeply appreciate it.
“You know,” Susan tells you one day when she’s helping you with charms homework, “I don’t want to tell you that you shouldn’t be friends with Harry and the others,” you frown up at her but she raises her hands placatingly, “but trouble follows them wherever they go. Everyone knows it, something happens to them every year, even if no one knows exactly what it is. And the fact that Malfoy began going after you was because you’re always around them.”
You sigh. “Thanks for worrying about me, but Malfoy might’ve started picking on me just because I’m a muggleborn.”
Susan quirks her mouth in pity. “That’s true.” Then she sits back in the chair with a deep sigh. “I used to think Malfoy was just picking on you so you’d give him attention, I never expected it to end up like this.”
You blink. “You too? Hermione told me before that he was acting like a boy pulling a girls pigtails.”
Susan snorts in amusement. “That’s an accurate statement if I’ve ever heard one.” Then she grows quiet. “I really thought he liked you. I thought that maybe Slytherins’ would finally get past their prejudice if the self-proclaimed Prince of Slytherin were to convince a Hufflepuff, and a muggleborn of all people, to go out with him.”
You clench your fist around your quill. “Everyone needs to stop saying that!” You bite out, and Susan looks at you in surprise. “He didn’t like me, he never liked me, he just hated me, and he will always hate me!” And you hate it because you begin to feel tears well up in your eyes.
Susan coos as she kneels down to hug you. “Oh, oh Y/N. Oh no.” She hugs you tighter and you shove your face in her neck and try to breathe calmly and not cry, but tears are silently streaking down your face. “I get it now.” She sits back up on her knees and gently holds your face. “It’s ok, it’ll be ok. No matter what happens, no matter what he does or says we’ll all be here for you.” She sighs as she hugs you again. “I’m so sorry.”
You grasp at her shirt while you begin to feel tired. “He was nice sometimes. He would smile, and it became fun. He never seemed to enjoy it around the others, but he always would find me when I was alone and it was fun.” Susan shushes you and strokes your hair while you begin to feel bone weary. “I’m tired, I think I’m going to go to bed.”
She gives you one more tight hug before sitting back and helping you pack up your bag. When you stand up and grabs your face one more time. “It’ll be ok,” she nods, “I promise.”
You nod and head up to bed, not noticing the look of determination on Susan’s face.
—
It’s about a week later when you learn of Susan’s plan. She’d recruited the Trio to help her, and you only find out when you’re walking to the greenhouse and see Malfoy standing outside of it. You immediately frown. “What do you want, Malfoy?” You spit out. He flinches but you ignore it and continue. “I told you to leave me alone. Do you not understand simple instructions? Should I write it down for you step-by-step?”
There’s a long moment of silence and you’re surprised he doesn’t rise to the bait. He’s only standing there, contrite. He’s looking at you and you start fidgeting, feeling awkward.
“Y/N,” he begins, and your eyebrows shoot up, surprised at his forwardness of calling your first name, “I wanted to apologize for what I did and said.”
“Y/N,” you say, mockingly, “I’m Y/N, now? What happened to Y/L/N? Or mudblood? My personal favorite was trash, to be honest,” you say, hand on your chin, contemplatively. “It had a certain ring to it, a certain charm. Quite endearing, I’m sure.”
He groans and stomps up right in front of you. You stumble back a few steps not expecting it but he follows you, stopping almost nose to nose. You’re so close that you can smell his cologne and the mint on his breath. His grey eyes are staring straight into yours and you only just now realize how he’s finally started growing taller than you. You’re rooted to the spot and your brain isn’t able to form a coherent thought.
“I didn’t mean it,” he breathes out in desperation, “please, I need you to believe me.”
You start, and look at him in shock. “You said please,” you mumble.
He looks surprised himself. “Oh,” he says quietly, “yeah, you’re right.” He tilts his head and looks to the side, then looks back up at you, face open for once. “Yes, I did. Please. Please believe me.” He grabs your hands and you look down at them. You’ve always assumed his hands would be soft, proof of his rich upbringing, but they feel rough, calloused. A sign of hard work, and you feel a huge burst of affection arise in your chest.
“Why?” You whisper, not looking up. “Why would you try so hard to convince me?”
He stands quietly for a moment, thinking, before he begins. “Bones came to find me, a few days ago. She told me,” he grimaces in disgust, “what an awful git I’d been.” You see his mouth tighten out of the corner of your mouth. “I’d already known but having a Hufflepuff scream at me really hammered it home.” You choke out a laugh and his mouth twitches, a faint smile briefly appearing.
“Your Golden Trio found me after that.” You gasp and rip your gaze off your hands to look up at his eyes in horror. He gives a wry grin. “Yeah, your mu-“ he cuts himself off and winces. “Granger had a a lot to say, and Weasel,” you glare at him and he corrects himself, “Weasley stood there as if he was trying to threaten me.” He clenches his teeth, as if he loathes what he’s about to say next. “Potter,” he bites out, “was quite intimidating, I must admit, standing there with his wand. As much as he really aggravates me I will say that his magical prowess is something to be admired.”
You grin, because it’s just like Malfoy to admit without saying it that he’s scared of how strong Harry is. “He is pretty strong, I’d be worried about pissing him off too.”
He gives you a small glare and you just laugh. Then he sighs and looks down at your joined hands. “My family,” he begins slowly, “is a prominent feature in pureblood society. They have immense influence, and they can get what they want when they want it, and easily at that. I’m worried,” he trails off and strokes your fingers, “we’re young still. I have to abide by my fathers rules. I can’t promise kindness, I can’t promise it’ll work, and I can’t promise forever.” His mouth pinches and it looks like he’s biting his tongue in frustration. “My father, most of all, believes Mugglborns are filthy creatures that should not be allowed to breathe the same air as us. My mother will follow his decisions. I-,” he chokes, then lets go to grab your face and press your foreheads together as he closes his eyes. “I’m only thirteen. I know what I feel, what I want, but I’m not allowed to make decisions. I don’t know what will happen right now.”
He gently pulls away, hands still stroking your cheeks. He’s leaning down slightly, eyes so warm that you feel lost. “I won’t risk anything right now, it’s not safe. And I won’t promise anything either because it’s not fair to you. Y/N,” he breathes, and then he smiles and it takes your breath away. He looks so warm, so happy, and you’ve never seen him like this before. He looks free. “You’re worth so much, and I haven’t been able to show you. I can’t promise you anything right now, but,” he looks at you with a stern face, “I will change the way I treat you and your friends. I will make the others stop and you won’t have to put up with this shite ever again, not while I’m here.”
You grab one of his hands and nuzzle your face into it. “I’m a patient person.” You smile up at him and he looks so happy that you feel your face blush bright red. “I can wait.”
You both stand there for a long time before you hear someone tripping over their feet. You jump apart and look over to see Neville avoiding your eyes as he picks himself up off the ground. “Well, umm, it’s, uh,” he’s stammering out, face bright red, “Professor Dumbledore’s always going on about House Unity and whatnot, so I guess it’s nice to see students from other houses get on well.” He walks around you two, still not looking either of you in the face. “It was nice to see you talk out your problems, I’m sure you’ll be friendly enough with each other, your business being your own of course.” And with that he walked into the greenhouse, slamming the door behind him, and you can make out the vague outline of Professor Sprout immediately accosting him.
You grin at Malfoy with a red face as he sneers. “I suppose the entirety of the school will know within the next 5 hours.”
“Neville’s quite a private person I’ve learned,” you say soothingly, “he’s become a dear friend.” At his pinched look you laugh. “I’m thinking I’ll ask Professor Sprout if I can stay on as one of her assistants. Neville’s already acknowledged as her model student, but I’m hoping for a close second.”
He gives you a glare that softens into a quirked smile. “Very well, I’ll trust in your,” he narrows his eyes as he peers into the greenhouse at Neville and Professor Sprout both pretending to be busy, “friendships. Speaking of,” he gives a wince, “please talk to your Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. I’d much rather prefer not to spend my every moment looking over my shoulder.”
You laugh loud and bright and pull him into a tight hug. Right now it’s only a promise of a promise, a hope of what’s to come, but you will hold onto that promise with all your heart and jump feet first. It’s the hope of a future and what the possibilities could hold. Your heart is light as you watch him walk back to the castle and you turn to the greenhouse. Your smile is so wide that your face hurts and you think nothing will ever separate you and Draco, that you two will be able to take on the world when you’re ready.
…it takes you approximately three years and two months to learn that Draco, that Malfoy, will betray everyone, including you. And when it happens, you feel your heart shatter and think the pieces will never be recovered again.