june 1994
There was little Draco could clearly remember from his third year at Hogwarts, but there was something peaceful on that day by the lake. Blaise and Draco had just finished their end of year exams, Pansy had finished a few days prior, and they celebrated by raiding the kitchens and taking a picnic down to the lake. There was a spot, just by the wooden pier, that was filled with flowers in spring, and well hidden from sight in summer, when the leaves were their brightest shade of green.
The trio sprawled across the grass, laughing at each other’s jokes, eating too much food and wondering just how much harder their lessons would become in the next year. Pansy pulled a deck of exploding snap cards from her pocket, and they almost began to play a game, before Blaise reminded them that grass was flammable, and he didn’t want to risk spending the last few weeks of the term in detention for almost burning down the school.
Pansy told him he was being dramatic, but Draco was inclined to agree. So, instead, they were lying on the grass, feeling the warmth of the earth, cloud gazing.
“Tell me that doesn’t look like a dragon on a broomstick,” Blaise challenged, making Draco burst into a fit of giggles, turning his head to look at Pansy who appeared to be using every bit of self-restraint not to throttle him, or at the very least, scream.
“Blaise, at most, it looks like a paintbrush,” she said, through gritted teeth.
“I don’t know Pansy,” Draco said, biting back his laughter. “It – it could be a – a dragon on a broom,” he said, bursting into a fit of laughter.
“Yes! Thank you,” Blaise drawled, throwing his arms back and resting his head on his hands.
“Idiots,” Pansy mumbled. “I’m friends with idiots.”
“Lovely idiots, mind,” Draco said, smiling when Pansy snorted.
He noticed the passing of a paw shaped cloud, but chose not to point it out, as Pansy was yet to recover from the dragon on a broomstick. “That there looks like a rabbit,” Pansy said, pointing towards the pawprint.
“That’s a pawprint,” Draco replied, raising an eyebrow at Pansy.
Pansy retaliated in a similar fashion, raising an eyebrow. “How, in the name of Merlin, is that a pawprint?” she asked, failing to contain her exasperation. As Draco opened his mouth to reply, she cut him off. “Actually, sod it, I don’t care, it’s a rabbit.”
Blaise tutted at the pair. “You’re both so wrong,” he began. “It’s clearly a cat.”
This very idea forced Pansy to sit up. “That’s it,” she declared, slamming her hands on the grass. “Blaise, you’d better watch out, or Hecate, so help me, I will poison your tea.”
Draco was certain if he had been drinking, he would have done a spit-take, but instead he let out a bark of laughter, before covering his mouth as Pansy glared at him.
Blaise simply smirked. “If I die for telling the truth then, by Jove, at least I’ll die an honest man,” he proclaimed, wiping an imaginary tear from his right eye.
Rolling his eyes, Draco couldn’t help but smile at Blaise’s theatrics. “It’s been nice knowing you Blaise,” Draco said, closing his eyes and enjoying the sun. “And Pansy, don’t get caught,” he added.
Blaise scoffed, and he would put a heavy bet on Pansy grinning like a Cheshire Cat. “Traitor,” Blaise mumbled. “At least tell her it’s impolite to kill your friends,” he pleased.
Draco smiled, not opening his eyes. “You’re the one who says it’s a cat,” he yawned. “Wake me if you need to hide a body Pansy dear,” he said, hearing a squeal and the sound of heavy footsteps as Blaise ran from Pansy.