Year: March 11th, 2006
Canonicity: Canon to "The Mudblood"
Point of View: first person, Lainey Fitzroy
I had expected Draco Malfoy to open the front door of his little hut in the woods when I knocked upon it that chilly March afternoon. I had not expected him to be half naked when doing so.
The Malfoys' cabin was a wooden structure planted atop a hill in the middle of a forest. They likely considered it a small dwelling when, in reality, it was nearly the same size of the yellow house my family inhabited. Still, it was far less ostentatious than the Manor, and the way vines climbed up the logs and moss grew on the roof seemed far too rustic for either Malfoys' liking. I certainly hadn't thought they could be comfortable living here—not comfortable enough to walk around half naked, at least. But here Draco was, wearing only his boxers, displaying his lean muscles, rubbing his bleary eyes, acting as if nothing could hurt him so far from society.
I should have used Polyjuice Potion to disguise myself as someone else to scare him. Would have been a funny prank. Though, with the muddled look of disgust and confusion on his face, perhaps just the sight of me had scared him—and in a way that was not so humorous. Perhaps I shouldn't have shown up uninvited if I'd wanted to avoid an encounter as awkward as this.
"Hello," I greeted, folding my hands behind me and then before me and then behind me again.
Draco ran a hand through his unkempt hair. The gesture was so unfairly attractive that I almost considered rolling down the steep hill at my back to escape further interaction. "What are you doing here, Fitzroy?"
Scratching my head, I surveyed a few of the barren trees hanging above me. "I Saw Astoria going into labor in about five minutes so I figured I'd show up for moral support."
Draco blinked as if I'd just Stunned him. "Five minutes? Did you tell Flemming?"
"I haven't talked to Melody in a few weeks actually—"
"I'm talking about the blue-haired one! She's Astoria's midwife!"
"Oh. No. Might've neglected to do that... But, you know, I'm here, and how hard can it really be—"
"Fitzroy," he growled, taking an aggressive step toward me. If he were clothed I might not have been so intimidated, but something about his near-naked form being in such close proximity was terrifying. He seemed to acknowledge the inappropriateness of the situation because as he subdued his anger he took a step back. "Sorry," he called over his shoulder, "summon Flemming."
"No, Sorry!" I exclaimed as I hopped up on my toes. Beyond Draco I could just barely see Sorry the house elf standing in the cabin, preparing to Apparate. "Don't do anything until he says 'please'."
Blinking his large eyes, Sorry shifted his gaze to Draco, waiting not for an order but for him to be polite.
Though Draco looked like he was ready to crush my head in his hands, he snarled a barely distinguishable "please" through gritted teeth. Smiling, Sorry vanished.
"Get in here and close the door behind you," he snapped, refusing to meet my eyes as he retreated inside. "It's cold."
"Maybe you should be wearing some clothes," I mumbled before I could stop myself. I hoped the closing of the door would drown out my sass, but once we were both concealed within the cabin and I spun toward him, I found that he was looking at me again, now with sly eyes.
"Is this making you uncomfortable, Mudblood?" he inquired, dipping his chin down toward his bare torso. Swallowing, I forced myself to look at him and prayed that the indifference I was conjuring would show in my features.
