A Multifandom Collection of Short Stories

19: Disgrace-Ron Weasley

"Professor Snape, please! I need an extension, I swear it'll be done this time," I begged.

"Fine, you have two days Miss Malfoy. I want it on my desk Monday, at the start of class. No exceptions!" Snape dismisses me out of his office.

"Thank you, Professor," I say as he shuts the door.

"How did it go, Hazel?" my brother asks, reaching for my arm.

"He gave me the extension, but only two days. How will I ever finish it in time?"

"Can't you bribe Granger to do it?"

"Draco! I would never dream of it! And don't talk about Hermione like she's some kind of slave. You're so rude!" I walk away from him and into the Great Hall. I sit down at the Gryffindor table, between Ron and Harry and across from Hermione.

"Well?" Hermione says.

"I got an extension from Snape! Two days," I say.

"Very well," says Harry.

"My idiot brother suggested I bribe Hermione to do it." I let out a dry laugh. "Don't worry, Hermione, I would never do that."

"I can help you if you need me too," Hermione says.

"No, it's fine. I can do it myself. I just need to focus."

"Good luck with that," Ron snorts as the post arrives. My father's sleek owl flutters down by my plate. I untie the envelope carelessly from the owl, who sits upright, very patiently. I open the seal with the Malfoy family crest on it and skim the letter briefly.

"What does it say?" Hemione says anxiously.

"Blah blah blah, very disappointed, blah blah blah, disgrace, blah blah blah, something about Draco blah blah blah."

Ron and Harry burst into laughter, and I join in soon after.

"You shouldn't laugh at Father's letters," a smooth, cold voice says behind me.

"Oh shut up, you big git!" I say, still laughing with Harry and Ron.

"I'm a prefect, I could punish you for... something. Detention with Filch tomorrow sound good?" He says nervously. Ron stops laughing.

"I'm a prefect too! I don't think she deserves being punished," he says.

"Ah, I had forgotten that the Weasel and the Mudblood made Gryffindor prefect. What a shame."

I stop laughing as well. Ron, Harry, and I stand up.

"Shut up Malfoy," Harry says.

"What are you going to do about it, Pottah?" my brother says arrogantly. The Great Hall has gone silent by now. I'm very frustrated at my brother. I put my hand inside my robe and extract my wand. Harry and Ron do the same while Hermione whimpers, frightened. I raise my wand slowly towards my brother's throat. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick watch on warily, waiting for something to happen.

"I suggest, brother, that you write to Father and tell him you hang out with Harry and blood traitors and, sorry Hermione, Mudbloods. See what it feels like to be disgraced and disowned by your own family, more specifically, one of the most powerful, wealthiest, pure-blood families. And on top of that, try being a Malfoy Gryffindor. Bet that would cut you out of the inheritance, just like it did me. Can you imagine, being eleven years old, and being told that your family doesn't love you? The Sorting Hat wasn't even on your head before it said Slytherin," I hiss the last sentence as tears stream down my face. "You just don't understand because you get all of Mummy and Daddy's affection don't you. I bet they'll be so proud when you become a Death Eater!" I spit. I stand confidently as Draco reaches inside his robes and pulls his wand out as well. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He sighs.