All the Wrong Things (The Rights and Wrongs series) #2

7

Saturday, September 25, 1999

Flying is easy. Zipping through Bludgers and winding over jerseys. The gasp of the wind in my ears overpowering any whispers.

What isn't easy, is the ginger glaring at me before we take off. Or the way Potter glances at me after the ginger takes him aside.

I have to remind myself that we aren't friends when Goldstein talks about drinks after practice. I decline, and I see Potter's shoulders drop in relief.

I get out of there before the Weasley girl tries to scream at me.

~*~

Sunday, September 26, 1999

At least we win against Magical Games and Sports. Ginny Weasley finds a way to put it all aside for the match, because she passes to me when I'm open and I slide the Quaffle just past the Keeper at the last second.

Goldstein hugs me in mid-air, almost knocking me from my broom. I let myself smile. Just once.

Potter looks like he wants to talk to me as we're heading to the cabins to shower and change, so I just grab my things and exit – as much as I would love to let Potter see the scar he dug into me as I change my shirt.

I'm casting a quick Scourgify over myself as I reach the edge of the pitch, and I hear a voice from a small distance away, chanting, "Go! Go! Gryffindor! Go! Go! Gryffindor!"

I turn to glare at the voice, and find myself looking into familiar, laughing eyes. My feet stop.

Pansy.

She smiles at me, like it's only been days since we've seen each other. She looks older.

I wonder if I do, too.

I think of the letters and notes she wrote to me for those fifteen months, and the denied visitation requests.

"You look good in red, Draco." She lifts a brow at me, and runs her eyes over my uniform.

We Apparate to a brunch place we used to go to in the summer before fifth year. Vincent used to order the French toast and the pancakes together and sit quietly eating next to Greg while Pansy, Blaise, Theo and I chatted. I blink.

"How's the Ministry?" she asks, once we've placed our orders. "Are you on your way to becoming the next Minister of Magic?" She teases me under lowered lids as she brings her teacup to her lips.

"Hardly." I stir in the honey. "It's as you would expect. A desk job with several of my least favorite people in England."

"How much longer do you have?"

"Eleven weeks." They could not pass soon enough. "And you? You're studying under Madame le Roux?"

"Ah, so you did receive my letters." She pats her napkin against her lips, and lifts a brow at me.

I feel heat come to my cheeks. "I read them. I didn't know how to respond."

"Oh, come now, Draco." She smiles. "I wanted to hear all about the exciting things going on with you. 'Today I walked around my cell counter-clockwise instead of clockwise. Today I was kicked by only one guard!'"

I stare down into my teacup.

"Who else is working with you?" she changes the subject – one of her strong suits. "I saw Anthony Goldstein today, and a few others I recognized. But Ginny Weasley – isn't she flying for the Harpies?"

"Mm-hmm. But she's Potter's girlfriend, so it seems she gets a free pass."

"Hm. Just like a Weasley." Pansy smirks, and we're thirteen again, picking apart the weak and laughing. She finds my eyes and says, "Always reaching for the cream of the crop, especially when they're unworthy."