DISCONTINUED--Letters I Can't Send (draco x reader)

27

Y/n's POV

There's far too much excitement about the Triwizard Tournament going around for me. Everyone gossips and claps when someone over the age of 17 puts a slip of paper with their name on it into the Goblet of Fire—the enchanted cup that will pick the three "champions" of the tournament during the Halloween feast in a few weeks.

We've entered the second week of classes and it's just as boring as ever, even with our special guests.

The students of Durmstang and Beauxbatons are a nice change of pace, I suppose, but Hogwarts doesn't feel like Hogwarts anymore.

As I enter the charms classroom and take my usual seat, appearing to be the first person here, Professor Flitwick startles me.

"Good morning, Miss Ellis," he says and I jump. He chuckles and apologizes. "Sorry to scare so early in the morning, but I'd like to suggest the idea again...if it's not too much of a problem this year..." Oh, spit it out, Flitwick, I think as I smile and nod while he tries to find the right words for me. "...to tutor Mr. Malfoy again this year. I can already tell from the first few grades in this semester that he'll need more assistance this year." he looks almost ashamed to admit it, but I sigh softly to myself, knowing what a whirlwind this year will be.

"Of course. It's no problem at all, Professor." I manage a convincing fake smile.

He claps his hands together and smiles brightly. "Wonderful! We'll start those up right away! And I assume you'll be using the Room of Requirement again?"

I nod. As much as I hate tutoring Draco, there are a few perks to it—like the Room of Requirement. It meets all of our needs and gives us anything on the spot. It's quite fun, actually—the Room of Requirement, of course, not the tutoring with Draco.

Just as Flitwick is walking away from me, the rest of the class filters through the door, and my eyes catch on a certain towheaded blonde walking in. He looks at me, sneers, and goes to his seat. I decide that I'll tell him about our joyous tutoring sessions after class.

.........

Of course, I don't get a chance to talk to him as we're leaving the classroom because he slips out faster than I could have thought, so as everyone crowds in the Great Hall for lunch on this rainy day, we all sit and watch Fred and George Weasley try to cheat the age line Dumbledore set around the Goblet of Fire.

I sit on the choir risers everyone is using as seat, a few rows back from Hermione Granger and watch as she tries to explain to the Weasley twins how their plan is sure to fail.

"This is an age line, Dumbledore drew it himself," she says.

"So?" one of the twins says.

She scoffs. "So," she drags out the word dramatically. "A genius like Dumbledore couldn't possibly be fooled by a dodge as pathetically dimwitted as an aging potion." she says smartly.

"Ah, but that's why it's so brilliant," one says.

"Because it's so pathetically dimwitted," the other finishes.

I smile a little at their confidence and ease at finishing each others sentences, like the version of twins we all thought was a myth. 

Then watch as they say a quick, "bottoms up!" and down the potions together. Everyone cheers when they jump through the ring that is the age line successfully. Everyone cheers again when they successfully drop their names into the Goblet, but it doesn't take long before the blue fire spits the names right back out, causing the twins to go flying in the opposite direction, falling hard to the ground.