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Draco walked through the halls calmly, his platinum hair swishing to follow his movements. He had started growing it out over the summer, and by the time sixth year started, his hair hung down to his shoulder blades. Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini flanked him, Pansy admiring her freshly painted nails, and Blaise somehow reading a book and navigating the busy halls seamlessly.
People watched them walk by, and were quick to get out of their way when they found themselves in their path. Draco was the ice king of the school, everybody knew that. He may be charming and attractive to boot, but he was still an icy pureblood through and through.
The Slytherin trio headed for the Quidditch field, the Slytherins were playing against the Gryffindors today, and it was going to be a big match. Really though, it was always a big match when it was between the Gryffindors and Slytherins. Draco had been a Seeker for the majority of his Hogwarts years, but this year their captain, Graham Montague, suggested Draco try out for Chaser, and damn if that wasn’t a good idea. Draco’s lithe form and natural grace in the air were the perfect combinations for a deadly chaser. He was like a liquid in the air, all poise and determination.
Blaise was also a chaser, and nearly as good as Draco, despite his tendency to get distracted. Pansy wasn’t on the team, but she always came to their matches to cheer them on and offer her support.
Draco felt the soft dirt beneath his feet shift slightly as he trudged towards the pitch, releasing a breath as he finally made it to the grassy part of Hogwarts’ outdoor area.
“Merlin, you two better crush these lion freaks. The last time they won they wouldn’t shut up about it.” Pansy bemoans from beside Draco, who hums in response.
“Don’t worry, Pans. This is gonna be the easiest match yet.” Blaise pipes up, shooting Pansy a wolfish grin. Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe wave enthusiastically from where they’re standing, and Draco nods in greeting as he, Pansy, and Blaise approach them.
“Goyle, Crabbe. Ready for the match?” Draco’s voice is smooth, and he strides towards them with a certain degree of confidence. Goyle nods, punching Crabbe in the shoulder playfully.
“Yeah. We’ve practised.” His reply is simple but he sounds excited, so Draco nods in reply.
“Those Gryffindors aren’t gonna know what hit them.” Blaise’s eyes glint and Draco smirks. “Especially that ever-incompetent Potter.”
Pansy separates from their group a moment later, leaving the boys to make their way to the Slytherin locker room to change.
They get into their quidditch gear quickly, and the locker room comes alive with nerves and excitement. Draco can hear Crabbe and Goyle roughhousing in the corner as he slides his shirt on, and can hear Montague chatting lowly with Blaise somewhere else in the room as he ties his shoes. The Slytherins are subdued for now, but Draco knows that will change when they win. Slytherins always got rather rowdy after a win, especially one against Gryffindors.
“Gather round, boys!” Montague calls for them, and he taps his foot impatiently as they all scramble over. He looks everyone over, ensuring they’ve all dressed correctly, before beginning his speech.
“Alright, this game is against the lions, as you all know. We need this win, they can’t win against us twice in a row. I need you all to keep your heads in the game, this means absolutely no daydreaming,” He sends a pointed look to Blaise, who grins unabashedly.
“No slowing down, no thinking about school work or tests or any of that bull shite, and no fear.” Montague looks around for a moment, sending everyone stern looks. “And finally,”
“Show ‘em no mercy!” The whole team erupts around Draco, and he joins in as they howl and bellow into the sky and tumble out of the locker room. They move to the quidditch pitch, and Draco tries shaking the nerves out by rolling his shoulders.
Madame Hooch reiterates the rules quickly, before asking everyone to mount their brooms. Draco watches the red and gold clothed team clamber onto their brooms, and he makes eye contact with Harry Potter. He sneers, eyebrows raising and teeth flashing. Potter glares right back, doing his best to look intimidating.
Draco muses that it might’ve worked, if not for the fact that Potter was shorter than Draco by nearly four inches, and looked like a stray dog with his wild hair.
Madame Hooch’s whistle caught Draco off guard, seeing as he was too busy insulting Potter in his head. He rises up into the air, trying to catch up with the other thirteen players.
Almost immediately Draco finds himself dodging a bludger, one which Goyle smacks viciously into Katie Bell. It catches the tip of her broom, but Draco speeds away before he can see if she falls or not. Draco adored his white-blonde hair, a token from his Malfoy bloodline, but it had its drawbacks. Like being so easily targetted even up in the sky flying at high speeds.
Draco, used to Seeker manoeuvres, slides under and loops around Angelina Johnson, stealing the quaffle right from her hands. He hears her indignant yelp as she gives chase. Crabbe sticks as close as he can, hitting away the bludgers that the Weasley twins send in his direction. Draco sees the ball before it hits, but he has no time to react to the stray bludger.
He finds himself spinning out of control, but he presses the quaffle tight against his chest to keep his grip on it. Deciding to give it a shot, as soon as he slows in his spin he chucks the quaffle in the direction of Gryffindor’s hoop. Ronald Weasley, Gryffindor's keeper, misses the ball by a hair, and it goes blundering right into the hoop.
The Slytherin stands rise and cheer so loudly it hurts Draco’s ears, but he ignores them in order to fully reset his broom. Once he’s flying through the air on his own volition again, Draco directs his gaze towards the Ravenclaw stands. He scans them as quickly as he can, a small frown tugging at his lips when he can’t find Luna Lovegood.
A bludger whipping past his face has him focusing back on the game, and he barely catches the annoyed gaze of Montague, their captain. Draco hears the announcer, an older Gryffindor named Lee Jordan, broadcast their point gain.
Draco darts through the air, joining the dog fight in the middle of the pitch for the quaffle. Draco watches Blaise slide in and steal the ball, so he saddles up next to him. Goyle bangs bludgers away as Draco rams himself into the chasing Gryffindors, earning himself irritated looks from Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson.
Bell dives into Blaise, sending them both spinning out. Spinnet swoops in and grabs up the ball, and from there they easily score ten points against Slytherin. Draco bumps into Blaise, sending him a look of encouragement, to which Blaise rolls his eyes.
Gryffindor scores another twenty points before the tides turn and Slytherin manages to score forty points in a row. Draco, chasing after Bell, scans the skies for Potter and their own Seeker, Theodore Nott. He finds them going head to head, chasing after something that Draco can’t see from this far, but imagines is the snitch. He silently roots for Theo in his head, before turning back to Bell.
Miles Bletchley, their keeper, braces himself as the quaffle flies towards their hoop. Draco releases a breath as he successfully bats it away, and he smiles when he hears the nearby Weasley twin grunt in frustration. Slytherin earns another ten points, and Gryffindor twenty, by the time Draco searches for Luna again.
His eyes roam the crowds, finally searching the Slytherin stands. A warm, embarrassed grin grows on his face when he finally spots the blonde Ravenclaw. Luna’s standing between Daphne Greengrass and Pansy, and she’s holding up a sizable piece of paper with Draco’s jersey number plastered across the front.
‘Draco, 07’
She’s wearing green and yellow snake earrings that wiggle and sway freely in the wind. Her hair, mostly loose, holds small braids throughout it, braids that Draco himself helped tie into her blonde hair. She’s got a wide smile on her mouth and seems to be chatting happily with Pansy.
“Malfoy!” He hears Montague’s call too late, pain blooming across his ribs as a bludger rams right into his side. He curses the entire Weasley bloodline as he tumbles off his broom. Despite the burning pain in his side, Draco stretches up to blindly grab at his broom, and blessedly wraps his fingers around it.
He tries to haul himself back up, but the pain makes him strain, and he finds himself unable to work up the energy to throw himself back on the stick. His hair hangs in his eyes, and he throws his head around in an attempt to move the unruly strands.
He feels his fingers slipping off the longer he stays prone in the air, and he glances around looking for help. He catches sight of Theo slowing down, eyes darting between Draco, Potter, and the snitch.
“Don’t you dare, Nott!” Draco’s voice booms across the field, hoarse from his position, and panting breaths. Nott hesitates only a moment longer, before turning his attention back to the snitch.
He hears Jordan announce more points for Slytherin, and he muses that at least they’re still winning. He vaguely registers Madame Hooch flittering around underneath him and casting cushioning charms.
Just as he’s about to let go, and accept his free-falling fate, the Slytherin stand erupts in cheers. Draco assumes they’ve gotten more points, but then Theo comes rushing over.
“Hey there, stranger.” Theo grins cheekily at Draco, before grabbing his wrist and tugging him onto his own broom. Draco’s broom instantly nose dives towards the ground.
“You better have not–” Theo laughs loudly, cutting Draco off, and reaches behind him to blindly hand Draco the golden snitch.
“Theo, you’re brilliant!” Draco whoops loudly, and Theo follows it up with his own celebratory screech.
They land, and are promptly assaulted by their fellow Slytherin team members. Crabbe and Goyle lift Theo up onto their shoulders and begin to parade him around the pitch. Draco can faintly hear Jordan still reporting into the microphone, but it’s almost entirely drowned out by shouting and cheering. A quick glance tells Draco that all the cheering is coming from Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw, leaving the Gryffindor stands mostly quiet.
The Gryffindor team all land moments later, and Draco watches in amusement as they all cast disgruntled looks at the green-decked team.
“Good flying out there, Potter. Too bad it just wasn’t good enough.” Adrian Pucey, their other chaser, calls out to Potter merrily, a smug smile playing at his lips. Potter growls loud enough for Draco to hear, and sneers at Pucey.
“Shuddup!” The Weasel steps forward threateningly, waving his hand at Pucey, and Draco as he steps up next to him. “None of you lot are half as good as Harry!”
“Hm,” Draco hums. “I must be mistaken, then. I was pretty sure we just won, after having a lead in the points too.” Potter and Weasley grunt, glaring icily at Draco.
“Draco!” Draco pauses, before turning to the side.
“Luna?” Potter questions the blonde girl, who’s quickly making her way towards the two quidditch teams.
She tries to walk up to Draco, but Potter steps between them, almost protectively. Draco glares at his back, but Luna speaks before he can say anything.
“Harry? Could you please move?” Her voice is serene and happy, as per usual, and Draco relaxes just hearing it.
“Luna? What’re you doing down here?” Potter completely ignores her request, cocking his head slightly as he questions her.
“Well, I’m here to congratulate Draco, of course.” Potter stutters in confusion, and Luna hums as she sidesteps him.
“Dray!” She calls again, and Draco opens his arms as she throws herself into his hug.
“You were lovely! I was rather scared, though, when you were hanging off your broom.” Her lightly coloured eyebrows dip in concern, and she rests her hands on his cheeks. He sees Potter take a half step towards them, before freezing. In fact, the entire crowd around them seems to freeze, all eyes turning towards Draco and Luna.
By now, nearly all the Slytherins have made their way to the field, and are hooting and hollering as the Slytherin team gloats and struts about. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws are slower going, but have mostly made their way down as well. The Gryffindors seem to have been taking their time, but Draco figures it doesn’t matter how far away they are, as the whole area becomes nearly silent.
“You worry too much, Lou.” Draco knows his voice goes soft and affectionate, but he ignores it in favour of pressing a gentle kiss to Luna’s cheek. Her cheeks turn a faint pink, and she smiles in that soft, dream-like way she normally does.
Murmurs flare all around them, and Luna turns to look at the myriad of shocked teenagers. “Oh, we’ve made quite the spectacle.”
Pansy finally gets to Draco, and she slings an arm over his shoulder.
“Draco! Your girlfriend is so funny. You should have let us meet earlier.” She acts nonchalant as she speaks, but Draco recognizes the gleam in her eyes, and he can’t help but chuckle.
“Luna?” Wealsey’s voice sounds strangled, and Draco turns to eye the redhead. He and Potter both look bewildered, an emotion that seems to flicker across everybody's face.
“Hello, Ron. You did swimmingly.” Luna’s cheery voice drifts across the field, and she drops her hands to wave at him. Pansy stifles her laughter.
“Draco, come on, let's go shower and change.” Blaise strides up their trio, “Hello, Luna.”
“Hello, Blaise.” Blaise gives Luna a brief side hug, and Draco thanks him silently for his show of solidarity. Draco nods, “Yeah, alright.”
Draco pulls Luna in for a chaste kiss, laughing against her lips as he hears gasps. Luna giggles too, drawing away from Draco. Pansy grabs her by the wrist and starts pulling her towards the castle.
“I’ll take care of your girlfriend, ferret.” She yells over her shoulder, and Draco rolls his eyes. Blaise and Theo flank him as their team makes their way back to the showers.
Crabbe and Goyle have somehow gotten their hands on some pumpkin pasties, and are busy shovelling them in their mouths. Draco suspects they convinced Daphne to bring them for after the game.
“You two are ridiculous.” Theo playfully jabs at the two portly boys, who promptly ignore them. The whole team is glowing from their win, and the shower room is filled with rambunctious laughter.
Draco gets a pat on the back and an awkward smile from Montague, “At least she’s a Ravenclaw.”
Blaise slides next to Draco, with only a towel pulled around his waist. “Yeah, at least she’s a girl .” Draco sends him a look, and Blaise shrugs. “Hey, I was convinced you were in love with Potter, for a second there.” Drace smacks his arm, and Blaise yelps and steps away.
“Vicious.”
Later, when Draco has retired to the Slytherin common room, he lays back on one of the velvet green couches, Luna splayed half across him. A few third years glare at Luna, but Draco scares them off fast, as nobody’s willing to mess with the king of Slytherin.
“You wouldn’t believe it. Potter and his goons really chased after us! They were blabbing on and on about us kidnapping Luna. Kidnapping her!” Pansy complains loudly, throwing her feet up to rest on the large circular coffee table in front of their couches.
Draco chuckles and begins carding his fingers through Luna’s hair. He takes care to unthread all of her little braids. “They mean well.” Draco’s reply is soft as he stares down at his sleeping girlfriend.
Pansy groans. “You’re so whipped. It’s disgusting, honestly. You don’t see me acting like that with Mione.” Draco chuckles lowly and turns to stare incredulously at Pansy.
“Three days ago Hermione asked you to carry one of her books, and you carried all five of them, plus her bag, and her water bottle.” Pansy harrumphs and turns her nose up at him.
While Blaise, Theo, and he had taken Pansy’s new girlfriend in stride, Hermione’s friends weren’t that easy. They tried to ignore Pansy, and the whole relationship, but Draco figures that now, since more slimy snakes are infiltrating their little friend group, they’ll simply have to accept it.
Pansy sniffs slightly, “That’s different.” Draco hums but doesn’t reply.
“Dray?” Luna’s voice is muddled with sleep. Draco scratches lightly at her head, and continues to run his fingers through her long wavy hair.
“Yes, darling?” Luna sits up slightly, one of her hands braced on Draco’s chest.
“Bed?” Draco laughs quietly as she rubs her eyes, and he nods in agreement. “Bed, then.”
As they tangle themselves together, strewn out on Draco’s green bed, Draco smiles to himself. He drifts to sleep easily, with Luna’s lavender scent tickling his nose. That’s how Blaise finds them the next morning, weaved together, pressed chest to chest, and curled wholly around each other.