My Slytherin- Draco Malfoy

Chapter 53 (Year 5)

Draco's POV

"Blaise!" I yelled, entering the Slytherin common room. Blaise sat up from the couch and yawned.

"What?" He asked, yawning.

"Give me the hangover potion."

"Only if you ask nicely. Or a kiss." Blaise wiggled his eyebrows at me teasingly, and I rolled my eyes.

"Blaise, please give the hangover potion." He signed, shaking his head.

"I really was hoping for a kiss," Blaise said, sounding disappointed, as he pulled out the potion and handed it to me. I unscrewed the cap and downed the potion quickly, already feeling my headache disappear. I fixed my hair, and my robes, that I had thrown on to come down here as quick as I could.

"See you at breakfast," I said to Blaise. He nodded, falling back to sleep on the couch.

---

I walked into the great hall, seeing Harry, Ron, and Hermione already sitting at the Gryffindor table. Ron glanced up at me as I sat down in front of him. His ears turned red, and he avoided my eye.

"What's wrong with you Ron? You're all red?" Hermione asked, confused.

"I'm always red, I'm a ginger."

"That is not what I mean." She laughed. Ron glanced over at me and shrugged. Hermione glanced at me suspiciously.

"What? I didn't make him a ginger. That's his parent's fault."

"You two are impossible. And did you get hurt, you've got a bruise on your neck?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, was practicing quidditch and um... got hurt."

"Oh, you better be careful." I nodded at Hermione, and Ron looked at her, amazed. Harry seeming too interested in his breakfast to notice the confusion.

"You are the densest person I've ever met," Ron commented, and Hermione looked utterly confused.

"What?"

"Dense. Never know a more dense girl."

---

"So who is she?" Ron asked as we walked to the quidditch practice.

"I'm not going to tell you that." I grinned, putting my nimbus two thousand one over my shoulder.

"Why not?" He asked, looking offended.

"Because I'd like to keep it private if you mind."

"But I do mind, I was the one who caught you in an interesting... position?"

"Ron, please stop talking." I groaned. His ears were turning red.

"Well, just who is it?" Ron asked again. I shook my head.

"Nope."

"We want it to be private."

"Why?"

"Because she likes it better like that."

"Will, we ever meet her?"

"Soon, maybe," I answered, and Ron looked a little more pleased, but it died down quickly, as we walked on the pitch.

"You can do this, you'll be fine! You'll make it!" I said, and Ron looked nauseous.

---

"Everyone listen!" Fred shouted as we entered the common room later that night. The common room was packed, like always, and everyone turned to look at us, confused.