Present Mixed in the Past

Chapter 15| Broomsticks

The day of learning how to ride broomsticks came faster than Draco would've liked. He remembered in the dream how Neville had gotten hurt, how cruel he was to him. Sure, that same boy was in a different house and had taken his flying lessons without any problems, but... There was always a possibility of it going wrong in other ways. There was a possibility of him somehow messing up and making himself seem like a villain. He didn't want that, seeing it in his dreams was enough.

"You nervous about flying?" Blaise's voice called to the blond.

He laughed politely and gave a slight nod of his head. He didn't want to lie and say he wasn't. No one would shame him if he was, this would be the proper time any of them were on a broom. A real broom, not just a toy one too!

"A little, but I'm sure we'll be fine."

The leaner boy nodded, smiling a little before he slipped on his pureblood mask. Seeing the mask, the Malfoy looked to see they had finally reached the field with the other students. Everyone was separated by the house, the students facing each other with brooms laying in front to them.

"Malfoy!" A happy voice shouted, a wild hand flying into the air.

The grey-toned eyes landed on the Golden Boy, who was beaming in such a beautiful way. It was pointed directly at him; it was for him.

The Pureblood took a shallow breath before hurrying to take the spot in front of the famous boy. He didn't know why his thoughts were the way they were. It was something he couldn't truly predict, nor stop. It was rather annoying.

Soon the coach was there, shouting a little to be heard by all the students. Her head seemed to be on a swivel as she talked, her eyes narrowing on them all. It was like she was sizing them up, determining who could actually fly and who couldn't. It was a little intimidating, even to the Silver and Golden Boys would admit to that.

Finally, she blew her whistle. Instantly, two brooms flew into awaiting hands. One face beamed happily while the other gave a muted look of pleasure.

"Good, ten points each to Gryffindor and Slytherin." She hummed while she tried to help the others.

"That was bloody brilliant, mate. Can you show me how you did that?" Ron harshly whispered, pressing his body a little too closely to the raven-haired boy.

Harry's joyful smile stiffened some as he shifted his weight away from the other, his green eyes glancing towards Draco. The look seemed to try and say what he was seeing shouldn't be taken out of context. That there was nothing going on underneath the surface. That look was the only thing keeping him from decking the annoying blood traitor.

"You just have to have confidence in yourself. To not fear the broom. Though, I'm excited so fearing it would be difficult for me."

The blond-haired boy looked away, a slight snicker on his tongue. That was the most beautiful way of talking down to someone like Ron. The Pureblood remembered how insecure that Ron was, always comparing himself to his brothers and those around him. Those words could only hurt so much for someone so insecure.

The Weasley gave a tight smile and tried again, mild bits of anger coursing through his veins. He knew that Harry didn't know about his barely existing confidence, yet it still hurt. His twin brothers had tried to help him with that at one point, they tried to explain that if he worked hard, he could be better than them at something. He found their words to be annoying. They were so sure of themselves, so confident that they could do whatever they wanted! He hated the twins more than he hated Perfect Percy or Curse Breaker Bill or even Dragon tamer Charlie! They at least talked to him with respect! The twins were nothing but-