HOW TO BE A HEARTBREAKER | draco malfoy ✔️

25. declarations

HOW TO BE A HEARTBREAKER

25. declarations 

"I promise, Madam Pomfrey, I am absolutely fine!" Rowan insisted, squirming away from the wand that the school nurse was waving around her. "I've felt fine since you healed me on the pitch."

Madam Pomfrey huffed and whacked Rowan's arm so that she would stay still from where she perched on the edge of one of the hospital beds, still clad in her Slytherin Quidditch gear. Her hair was wet and the adrenaline had yet to wear down— she was itching to get her hands back on that trophy, as if she was scared the moment she took her eyes off of it, the Gryffindors will have snatched it back up and added it to the dozens in their own trophy case.

"And just as I have been telling you, Miss Yaxley, it is my duty to check over injured students after their games as well," Madam Pomfrey huffed as he wand traced Rowan's shoulder blades where the Bludgers had hit. "I am simply just doing my job, and trying to make sure you don't faint in twenty minutes when all of that adrenaline inside of you runs out."

Rowan sighed to herself. She ideally would have liked to go and see Narcissa Malfoy. In the blurry moments after winning the Quidditch Cup, Draco had mentioned something about his father wanting to take his mother back to the hospice as soon as possible. Rowan didn't blame him for being worried– the two-and-a-half-hour game had been accompanied by one of the worst storms Rowan had ever witnessed, after all. It was so much more than what Narcissa had been used to for the last few years.

"Am I alright to leave?" Rowan asked eagerly the second Madam Pomfrey withdrew her wand.

"Yes, Miss Yaxley," Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes. "You are free to go. Please enjoy your celebrations whilst I tend to all of the Gryffindors you and your teammates have sent my way."

Rowan glanced behind Madam Pomfrey's shoulder at the row of Gryffindors either sat or laying on the beds. They were all glaring at her, sulky expressions on their cold faces, each sporting bruises in different places.

"Good game, Yaxley," Robins said, rubbing what must have been an injured arm.

"You too, Robins," Rowan replied, "Good luck for next year."

Not all Gryffindors were too bad, she decided. Ginny Weasley was an exception to that, though. Rowan would never in a million years change her mind about her.

Pansy was waiting for Rowan outside the doors of the Great Hall. She'd cast a drying charm on herself, and did the same to Rowan as soon as she saw her.

"An owl came for you," Pansy said, and passed her an enveloped letter. "Do you recognise the handwriting? I didn't recognise the owl."

Rowan flipped the envelope over to look at her name and address.

"No idea," she said, and promptly ripped it open.

The two girl started to walk in the direction of the Slytherin common room. Rowan suddenly froze.

"What?" Pansy said eagerly, "What does it say? Who is it from? Is it your useless piece of shit father—"

"No..." Rowan choked, and she realised that her eyes were welling with tears, a disbelieving laugh tumbling from her lips. Her trembling hands shoved the letter in Pansy's hands. "Read it."

Pansy's eyes moved a hundred miles a minute.

To Miss Rowan Yaxley,

I am writing to you after having the privilege of watching your performance against Gryffindor for the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup Finale today. To say that I was impressed would be an understatement; I have never seen a player quite as good as you during a school Quidditch match before. Breaking records is impressive enough— to do so during a school game is a whole other achievement!