Harry Potter has always known Dracona Malfoy as his enemy. Sharp-tongued, arrogant, and icy, her very presence set his blood boiling for hours. But as the second wizarding war draws close, Harry begins to see cracks in her perfect façade.
Beneath t...
As Buckbeak reared back, Harry's eyes widened in horror. One moment Dracona Malfoy had been standing calmly beside the creature, and the next, it all went wrong.
The Hippogriff's massive wings flared, and before anyone could react, it lunged at her.
Time seemed to slow as Harry watched Dracona desperately try to dodge the beast's beak. She moved quickly, but not quickly enough. The sharp tip of Buckbeak's beak grazed her shoulder, knocking her to the ground.
The sound of her body hitting the dirt echoed in the shocked silence of the class, and a collective gasp went up.
Dracona lay there for a split second, stunned. Blood was already soaking through the fabric of her robe, dark and angry.
Hagrid shouted something, rushing toward the creature, but all Harry could focus on was the look of shock and pain that flashed across Dracona's face as she clutched her arm.
Ron let out a low whistle beside him. "Bloody hell... what just happened?"
"She got hurt, that's what," Hermione whispered, her voice tight with concern.
Harry's head told him to help, but he knew any and all attempt to help Malfoy was going to get him hexed into oblivion by the injured girl.
And besides, they weren't even friendly enough to help each other.
He glanced around, noticing the two girls standing slightly behind where Dracona had been moments before—Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass.
Their faces were pale, eyes wide, and Pansy seemed to be hiding something behind her back. Pebbles? His brows furrowed. Had they thrown something at Buckbeak?
Of course, Harry thought, his jaw tightening. They must have been trying to make Buckbeak go after him, not Dracona. They hadn't counted on things going sideways.
Dracona's face was pale, as she pushed herself to scold the two Slytherin girls quietly.
From where Harry stood, he could see the way her fingers trembled as she tried to adjust her robes, hiding the blood seeping through.
She was putting on a brave face—classic Malfoy behaviour—but she was clearly hurting.
Hermione bit her lip, watching Dracona. "She should go to Madam Pomfrey to make sure she's alright," she said softly, garnering a look of disbelief from Ron.
"What?" Hermione defended, "I just don't want a student to die in class because of blood loss,"
As Hagrid led Malfoy into the castle, Zabini and Nott followed after her, with Parkinson rushing after them full of apologies.
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Dracona's POV:
Dracona sat in the Slytherin common room, her arms crossed tightly as she stared at the crackling fire.
