Letters To A Friend (Draco Malfoy Fanfiction)

VII.

There are a lot of things I never would have guessed about Malfoy, but here we are. I mean, that boy's a git-always has been. He's made it his personal mission to antagonise me, my siblings, and pretty much my whole family. Ever since he discovered I was sorted into Hufflepuff, he's taken every opportunity to make my life difficult, constantly reminding me of my so-called oddity.

All my siblings are in Gryffindor, and while I'm a pureblood, it seems to bother him even more that I ended up in a house he views as lesser. Malfoy's been a thorn in my side for as long as I can remember, and his presence as a Prefect now only adds to the confusion and irritation.

It's strange to think of him in any role of authority, given how he's always used his position to belittle and undermine those he deems beneath him. I've seen him strut around with his usual arrogance, but this new angle of him as a Prefect is just another layer of complexity I wasn't prepared for.

And then there's the fact that he was watching me during Quidditch practice, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, like he's scrutinising every move I make. It's disconcerting, to say the least. His judgmental gaze felt like an extra weight on my shoulders as I tried to adjust to the Seeker's role-a role that feels more and more like an uncomfortable fit.

I find myself constantly wondering what Malfoy is up to and why he's suddenly so interested in my every move. It's hard not to feel like a pawn in whatever game he's playing, especially when his actions seem to carry more weight now that he's a Prefect.

And well, speak of the devil.

As I'm walking down the corridor, lost in thought, I nearly run into Malfoy. He's flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, their bulky figures almost blocking the hallway. Malfoy's eyes narrow as they meet mine, and I brace myself for whatever jibe he's about to throw.

"Dolly Weasley, as I live and breathe," he says, his voice laced with a mocking edge. "I see you're making quite an impression as a Seeker. Must be rather odd, stepping into Cedric Diggory's shoes."

His words hit a nerve. Cedric's absence is still fresh, and the reminder stings more than I'd like to admit. I keep my voice steady, though. "And what's it to you, Malfoy?"

Malfoy's smirk widens. "Just observing. A Prefect's job is to keep an eye on things, after all. Especially when it involves the likes of you."

I feel a flash of irritation at his condescending tone. "Well, I'm sure you have more important things to do than to scrutinise me."

He shrugs nonchalantly, as if my annoyance is of no consequence. "Just keeping up with the school's finest. Don't let me keep you."

With that, he and his cronies move past me, their footsteps echoing down the corridor. I'm left with a lingering sense of unease, as if Malfoy's presence has cast a shadow over my thoughts.

"Don't let him get to you," Hermione says as she steps beside me. "It's Malfoy, you know how he is."

I purse my lips. Oh, I know that all too well. "How's the search going?" I ask, referring to our secret gatherings. Hermione glances around, her eyes scanning the corridor as if she's afraid someone might overhear us, but it's just the two of us walking towards the library. Despite being a year ahead, Hermione and I have spent plenty of time studying there before.

"We're still looking," Hermione replies. "It's becoming a bit of a challenge, finding somewhere secure."

I nod, understanding the difficulty. The need for secrecy has only heightened with Umbridge's increasingly oppressive measures. "We'll figure it out. We have to."

Hermione gives a small, determined smile. "Exactly. We can't let anything stop us."

As we reach the library doors, the familiar scent of old parchment and polished wood offers a small comfort. I push thoughts of Malfoy to the back of my mind, focusing instead on the task at hand: studying.