The First Task
The embarrassment of Nott’s blow to the face was exasperated by the line of questioning from his friends and the constant stares coupled with whispers that haunted him outside of Draco’s common room. Pansy was also riled up from a conversation with Maeve that she wanted to share desperately, but something about “girl code” kept her from sharing the full conversation with Draco, instead teasing him with confusing snippets. Draco had to take matters into his own hands, which first consisted of seeing Madam Pomfrey, making up a lie about busting his lip from falling down the Slytherin stairs (to which he learned this was actually more common than he thought), and getting the painful red reminder of his stupidity erased off his face with a simple wave of a wand. Naturally, the rumors that were starting to brew in the Slytherin house was that Draco and Maeve were together, sprinkled with other outlandish theories that she was cheating on Draco with Nott or the other way around or she just wasn’t as innocent as people thought she was and was using both boys to some advantage. Draco decided it was easiest to avoid being seen with Maeve, to spare both her reputation and his. He had seen her trying to flag him down after class and meals, probably to confront him about the rumors that surely made its way to the Ravenclaw tower. Draco wanted to cherish their friendship while they still had it, and they were technically still friends if Maeve didn’t have the opportunity to dispel him from her life.
Avoiding Maeve was simplified with Draco’s summon home, where his father started to outline expectations for Draco in the coming years. His father warned him of the danger yet enormous payoff that was to come from the Triwizard Tournament, but for Draco’s safety, he wasn’t allowed to know what the “danger” was. There was a closed doors meeting with the fathers of all of Draco’s friends, which unfortunately still included Nott, so Draco spent most the weekend hiding in his room drafting an apology to Maeve. By the time he was supposed to return to Hogwarts, Draco filled his wastebasket to the brim with discarded papers with half-assed, horrific apologies.
I’m sorry for ignoring you after I said we were friends. The rumors that my housemates are spreading about you are pretty vile. Don’t believe any of it. Talk soon.
I’m sorry about the rumors about us. “Teddy” punched me because I really am secretly in love with you. Have been since first year. Rest easy knowing that the rumors are true!
Draco was bitter that he was only gone for only two and a half days but Maeve had returned Draco’s cold shoulder. She avoided his glances and didn’t try to chase after him after classes. If Draco had to comment, he would say she was actually acting a little bit off. She was extremely jumpy and the dark circles under her eyes grew darker as the days passed. He had eavesdropped on a conversation between Weasley and Granger where they were complaining rather loudly at how much time Potter was spending with Maeve studying up transfiguration for the first task. Draco’s father had revealed to the him that the first task involved dragons, which Draco thought was the grand “dangerous” plan but he couldn’t discredit a simple method of getting rid of the boy who thwarted all that the Malfoys worked towards. Draco felt guilty for sitting on this knowledge and not being able to tell Maeve that it worked in his favor that she was ignoring him. He didn’t think he could keep lying to her.
When the first task finally approached, Draco distracted himself with sportsmanship and looking forward to the first task as a spectacle, just like his friends were. Many had gotten up early to design signage or to try to enchant their scarves to be a blend of Hufflepuff and Slytherin color, which unfortunately ended up in many students turning their house scarves into a muddy brown. Draco played it safe, outfitted for the cold. He did, however, put two “Potter Stinks!” badges on his jacket for good measure and followed his housemates out to the arena.
To Draco’s surprise, the stands were nearly full despite the Slytherins showing up twenty minutes before the opening ceremony, going to show just how large of an event this was for the student body. Draco and his friends had to weave through large imposing Durmstrang boys who used their broad bodies to hold seats for friends or even worse, Beauxbaton girls who gave dirty looks and whispered in French.
“Hey, it looks like there’s seats up there,” Crabbe pointed through to an opening of students at the very front of the stands. Draco applauded the boy for the rare use of his brain, leading the charge through the students. As they descended the stairs and the cluster of students were beginning to part, Draco realized that the group’s targeted seats were being used as footrests by the row above it, consisting of the all-too recognizable red hair of Maeve and her cousin, justified by Granger’s curly mess. Draco turned around to divert his friends to any other part of the stands, but unfortunately, they had pushed past him and were about to step over Maeve and her friends. He gulped nervously, deciding that it was probably possible to walk past the group without detection and maybe they could keep on ignoring each other. When Draco stepped over Maeve and accidentally kicked her in her side, he realized how bad of an idea this was and wished he had just stayed at the top of the stands instead of trying to get closer. Maeve yelped then whipped her head around to reprimand Draco for kicking her, but when she realized it was him, she sewed her mouth shut. Draco matched her blank stare, blinking slowly when her scarf caught his eye.
A sour taste began forming in Draco’s mouth as he looked Maeve up and down unashamedly, taking in her Gryffindor scarf and “H” knit sweater. Did the two start dating while he was away for the weekend? Every possible worst outcome raced through Draco’s head in a split second and all he could muster was a laugh.
“What the bloody hell are you wearing? Is that Potter’s clothes?” Draco stabbed, earning snickers from his friends. Draco’s heart was pounding so hard in his chest he continued coping with the situation with another bite. “Quite adorable that you’re all dressed up to witness the doom of your boyfriend, Prewett.”
“Shove off, Draco. I’m just showing support,” Maeve stood up and flicked one of Draco’s badges. “You’re the one wearing not one but two of his faces on your clothes.”
“Yeah, but you’re the one branded by his name,” Draco shot back, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. “Red and gold don’t suit you.”
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you,” Maeve fired back, earning a chorus of “oohs” from her friends, which turned Draco bright red.
“I can’t be jealous of a dead man,” Draco said finitely, turning his back towards the group and walked further to press his body against the front of the stand. He gripped the railing with shaky hands, trying to figure out if he wanted to scream or throw up. He could hear Maeve mocking the conversation with Hermione behind him and he fought the urge to turn around. Draco gritted his teeth while he recalled Pansy’s conversation with him just the other day, where she had actually encouraged Draco to make the first move with Maeve. His grip on the railing was turning his knuckles white as he mentally cursed everyone involved in his head. He was irrationally upset with Pansy, Potter, and Maeve. He looked towards Crabbe and Goyle, who were laughing about some stupid joke the other had said, pointing grandly towards the arena. Draco felt hopeless. He knew he couldn’t rely on those two for relationship advice. Draco considered Blaise Zabini, for the boy’s flirtatious charm that made him quite popular amongst the other girls in their class, but they weren’t close enough for Draco to disclose a secret he had kept to himself for four years.
Draco’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a trumpet that signaled the start of the task. Barty Crouch magnified his voice with a wand, welcoming the crowd to the Triwizard Tournament and explaining the premises of the first task. The crowd whispered with nervous excitement at the reveal of the dragons and Draco pretended to be surprised to his friends as they swore that Potter was done for. Draco snuck a glance at Maeve, who was colorless from nerves, clutching Luna and Hermione anxiously. He let out a snort, trying to focus back on the arena as it was announced that Cedric was to be the first to complete the task of retrieving a golden dragon egg.
Suddenly, he felt a shake on his shoulder as he was trying to keep his eyes out for the older Hufflepuff’s first move against the silvery-blue dragon that perched menacingly on a hill. The chain that kept the beast tethered to the ground blended into the coloring of the dragon and Crouch had to make another announcement that the dragons were restrained to the arena. Draco annoyedly turned around to look at who was trying to get his attention and his expression softened slightly when he realized it was Maeve with a bewildered look on her face.
“What? You’re making me miss the game,” Draco snapped, admittedly more short-tempered than usual.
“We need to talk?” Maeve posed her request as a question and placed her hand back on Draco’s shoulder. He looked at her dubiously, furrowing his eyebrow and squinting his eyes in deep confusion.
“What? Now?” Draco gestured towards the game and Maeve locked eyes with Draco in desperation.
“Prewett!” A deeper male voice called from above the stand and the two turned their heads to see Nott making his way towards the pair. Draco thought quickly, taking Maeve’s arm and pulling her towards the first row of the stands in the opposite way of Nott, dragging her up the stands to exit the arena.
“You owe me,” Draco said as lightly as possible, trying to keep his anger obvious but still wanting to comfort her.
“Add it to my tab.”