Veela

“Draco Malfoy, if you keep staring at those dancing Veela… our engagement is off!” screeched Pansy Parkinson.

“We’re not engaged Pansy.” He replied wearily. “How many times do I have to tell you that?”

Taking a glance at her new diamond ring on her left hand, she smirked slyly. “That’s not what your father said.”

Giving her a double take and a horrified expression, Draco stuttered as he looked at her engagement ring.

“Why else did you think I was trying on those wedding gowns today?” She asked him happily.

“For fun?!” He replied meekly, knowing his life was doomed.

Anger

What was anger? The boy pondered, staring out the window. Was it when he caught Crabbe and Goyle raiding his dormitory to steal the chocolates, sent by his mother? Was it when his father yelled at him for not beating Harry Potter in anything? Maybe it was when he wanted to take Potter’s glasses and chuck it into the lake so Potter wouldn’t be able to see.

He wasn’t sure why he was thinking about things like these. It just seemed natural to remember the feeling of wanting to hurt something, which meant chucking pillows at Crabbe and Goyle later.

Muggle Studies

“Why are we in this class?” Draco complained, leaning back into his chair. “Actually, better question, why is Weasley in this class?” He drawled, seeing the redhead.

“It’s because he’s trying to impress his girlfriend, Bucktooth Beaver!” Pansy Parkinson mocked.

Ron blushed but his look was defiant. “Obviously. If Hermione and I get married, I need to learn about muggles.” He joked, casually slinging his arm around Hermione’s shoulders, who gaped at him in horror.

“We’re in a relationship?!?!” She yelled at him. Soon the two were bombarded with questions, trying to block the howls of delight from the Slytherins.

Whomping Willow

Eyes wide, he yelled and pulled his broomstick handle upwards. Away from the harm of the branches, he floated there, breathing hard. He had almost flown into the Whomping Willow because of his reckless flying, wanting to show off his new broom to his fellow house mates by provoking the ancient tree.

“Is Malfoy scared” Blaise teased the blonde boy. “By a plant?”

“I would love to see you get up here Zabini, considering the fact that you’re a fat lump who doesn’t own a broomstick. “ Draco retorted. “And it’s a bloody attacking tree, not your average tulip, stupid!”

House elf

“How did you convince me to scrub the Great Hall floors in support of the House elves Hermione?” Malfoy asked, shifting from knee to knee wincing. “My hands are never going to be soft again.” He grimaced, looking at his red hands.

“Maybe this will stop you from chucking food at Harry.” The brunette replied.

“He asked for it!” He defended, groaning as pain shot up his legs from kneeling on the stone floor. “I hate this.”

“Stop complaining Draco. This should teach you to be nicer to the house elves.” She snapped.

“You and your SPEW.” He muttered dangerously.

Sorting Hat

“Please, please let me be in Slytherin.” He prayed as the opening of the hat loomed over his head.

The boy of eleven had worried for the past month about this moment. What house the hat yelled would determine the fact of him being disowned from the Malfoy family or not. There was no choice. It had to be Slytherin. His father would personally kill him if he wasn’t in Salazar Slytherin’s house.

“SLYTHERIN!” A voice above yelled. Draco Malfoy let out a huge sigh of relief as the Slytherins applauded. Walking to the table, knees like jelly, he smiled.

Defense against the Dark Arts

“Another rubbish class taught by another rubbish professor.” The boy snickered as his two cronies laughed. “I wonder how stupid this one is going to be?”

“Would you care to say that again Mr. Malfoy?” a voice issued behind him. “Are you saying I’m stupid?”

Praying quickly, he turned around to face his head of house, Professor Snape. “No! I meant…that is until you came along!” He recovered, attempting flattery, which usually never worked.

Puffing his chest, Snape patted Draco’s head quickly and muttered “Good boy” to the young Slytherin’s astonishment, who later muttered “Someone’s been drinking too much firewhisky.

Potions

“I don’t understand! I put all the right ingredients in…” A voice whimpered behind Draco. Whipping around, he gave Neville Longbottom a smirk.

The nervous looking boy was attempting to explain his mishap to the formidable Professor Snape.

“Have you ever gotten a potion right Longbottom?” Snape reprimanded. “Take a look at Draco’s. Perfect color and aroma.”

The snobby Slytherin held his head up in pride, his over inflated ego enlarging. That is until, Crabbe’s cauldron exploded beside him, and he was drenched with a Shrinking potion. Screaming for help, he began to shrink as chaos took over the class.

Cho Chang

Potter’s girl. That was who she was. The gorgeous Asian from Ravenclaw. She was pretty, he had to admit. Graceful, flawless but tainted. Tainted with deaths. Cedric Diggory and now Potter. He observed her from the table as she tried to drown her sorrows.

Tears falling down her face as she wondered how her loves could have died at the hands of the Deatheater’s. Draco remembered the death of Harry well; Cho attempting everything she learned from St. Mungo’s to revive him, screaming in anguish.

The blonde left with tears in his eyes, not able to stand seeing her cry.

Zap!

“OW! Hermione! Get these bugs off of me!” Malfoy whimpered, slapping his arm repeatedly, in attempt to kill the mosquitoes that thrived by the lake. “They keep on biting me.”

“Which is why Muggles invented this!” The brunette laughed and pulled out something that looked like a tennis racket. Flicking the switch with her thumb, she held the equipment near his arm.

“What are you doing to me?” He asked nervously.

“Watch.”

ZAP!

Eyes widening, he watched a mosquito fall off his arm. “Give me that!” He grabbed it and began to zap everything in sight with delight, even himself.

Dress robes

Watching himself in the mirror, he smirked, running his long pale fingers through his just as pale hair. Fixing his hair to his liking, he ran his hands down the smooth silky green tie his mother had bought for him the other day. Tracing his fingers around the silver monogrammed initials of D.M. he winked into the mirror, testing the move, wondering if it would catch the eyes of the ladies he planned to meet today.

“Perfect.” He muttered to himself as he took one last glance. Grabbing his bag, he headed down the stairs, ready to go to class.

Quidditch

Staring at the fluttering gold ball that was hovering inches before him, he felt his heart jump. He wanted the Golden Snitch within his grasp more than anything. Happiness and glory loomed before him and he knew what he wanted.

Urging himself forward, thoughts focused on the Snitch. Time stopped and the wind whistled past him slowly, a blur. Second by second passed and it seemed an eternity before he gestured his hand wildly and the Snitch was clutched tightly in his hands. Soaring high above the crowds in the sky, he threw his head back and laughed in glory.

Allergic

“Draco Malfoy, stop scratching!” She tugged at his hands, forcing the young toddler to cry out. “You’re only making it worse.” She grabbed his arms, revealing red itchy bumps scattered over the pale flesh.

“But mom, it’s itchy.” Her son screamed, making another attempt to scratch his arms. “It’s not my fault I’m allergic to eggplant. Who decided to make such a disgusting vegetable anyway?” He pouted, thinking about that fatal dish his mother had forced him to eat.

His mother laughed in spite of herself and lifted her pride and joy into her arms. “Let’s go to the doctor.”

Herbology

Poking at the plant before him, he grimaced. What was he supposed to do with this thing again? Squeeze the pus? How disgusting! Looking up at his fellow Slytherins, he shook his head at their questioning glances, waiting for his command.

The Slytherin prince glared at a specific Gryffindor across the room, which had already started. Three glass bottles sealed gleamed beside him, full of the obtained pus.

Stupid Longbottom. Draco mused. Him and his plants. They are plants! Shaking his head at the absurdity of this obsession of Neville’s, he decided to let Crabbe do all the nasty work.

Mooch

“GOYLE!” Draco yelled, smacking his friend’s hand. “Stop stealing my chocolate frogs.” Glaring at the older boy, he tied his parcel close. “My mother sent me those, not yours.” He stated, trying to strike a point home.

Goyle gave Draco a look and began to eat breakfast. It was their first year at Hogwarts and the first time they had gotten anything by owl in the Great Hall. Goyle was jealous, having not received parcels from home.

Seeing Draco with both eyes on the Gryffindor table, he quickly leaned over and snatched a piece of toast from the Slytherin’s plate.

Transfiguration

Muttering, he checked his work carefully. Seeing mistakes, he chucked his Transfiguration homework across the library table, earning a reprimand from Madam Pince. He was sick of homework, especially writing essays. Draco Malfoy was sick of it and he had to struggle through it by himself considering he didn’t dare let Goyle or Crabbe do it for him. This was the only time he was jealous of the Gryffindors. They at least had Granger to help them. And there was no way she would ever help him. Sighing, he pulled the complex diagrams back and scribbled his former work out.

Astronomy

The wind rustled his semi damp blonde hair as he made his way across the Quidditch field late at night, the darkness enveloping his body. Why he had the urge to walk around and stare at boring stars, he did not know.

Sitting on the grass at the end of the pitch, Draco tilted his head up to stare at the vast sky. Stars glittered like diamonds beside the half moon, illuminating the world above him, out of his reach. He was awed by the glory and emptiness of it and wondered why he had never noticed in astronomy class.

History of Magic

Jerking his head up, which had been dangerously heading towards the table, he quickly sat upright. Groaning, he slumped down and flipped a page in his textbook, attempting to keep up with the class.

I hate this. This absolutely good for nothing class. He complained. Professor Binns was no doubt the worst teacher and all Draco wanted to do was lay down and sleep. Hearing a loud snore to his left, he looked at the figure who was slumbering peacefully. Smirking, he chucked his uncapped ink bottle at Goyle, already in mid laughter at what his reaction would be.