The Arcanity of Draco Malfoy: A Harry Potter Fan-Fiction

Year One: Chapter Six: The Flying Lesson

“Well, it’s just an idea though, rather than a plan,” Lorelei muttered, her face flushed. “So it has it’s flaws…” Lorelei bent her head down, facing the cold stone ground. “Just show us,” Draco demanded, looking annoyed. Lorelei shuffled around in her pockets, and pulled out twigs, leaves, feathers, and finally, a crumbled-up bit of of parchment. She flattened it out, and handed it to Draco. On it was a collection of scribbles that read: “send Potter somewhere after curfew and tell Filch” with a drawing of Harry being hung by his thumbs in the dungeon beside it.

“What is this supposed to mean?” Draco spat. Lorelei looked frustrated, and replied, “It means, that we go to Potter, and trick him into meeting us anywhere after curfew, and tell Filch, so Potter will end up getting both detention and losing points.” Draco seemed to approve, and nodded to Crabbe and Goyle. “Let’s send him to the Trophy Room, that’s in the middle of the castle, seems believable enough for us to meet him there.” Draco said, seeming a little unsure. “What for, though? There has to be a reason.” Lorelei added, her face scrunched up in thought. “For a duel,” Crabbe suggested, faintly smiling. “Excellent!” Lorelei bellowed, slapping Crabbe on the back.

The entire week, they constantly discussed every single aspect of the plan, and even sang a song about it to the tune of The Hippogriff Flew Over The Mountain. “We’re getting Potter in trouble, we’re getting Potter in trouble!” Lorelei sang, nudging the boys to sing with her. “We’re going to get Potter in trouble,” they all sang, holding the ‘o’. “And then we’ll win the Cup!” They sang it mostly in the Common Room, though sometimes Lorelei couldn’t control herself and sang it under her breath when they were walking to classes. Draco then recalled that they were going to have their first flying lesson soon, and began to boast about how talented he was at flying.

They had just sat down at the table to have breakfast, and the usual owl that always brought Draco candy had just had just flown away. “You know,” Draco began, his mouth full of candy, “One time, I was flying around London, and I had flown so high, one of those Muggle flying…” “Helicopters,” Lorelei interrupted, “Helicopters,” Draco paused, giving an I-already-knew-that look to Lorelei. “One had gotten so close to me, the blades could have killed me! But I was so fast, I was able to doge every single one of them!”

“Rubbish,” Lorelei said, “Helicopters are faster than a Comet Two Sixty.” Draco turned to her, and looked absolutely disgusted. “Rubbish, is it? What is rubbish is that I’ve already put up with you for two years.” Lorelei looked hurt, but then seemed to not care, and began to stare into nothingness.  They finished eating, and were heading back to the dormitories, but as they passed the Gryffindor table, Draco snatched a peculiar sphere from the boy whom had burnt himself in their Potions class.

Harry and the Weasley boy shot up out of their seats, but the Gryffindor Head of House, Professor McGonagall, swished by. “What’s going on?” She asked, looking sternly at them.  The boils-boy muttered, “Malfoy’s got my Remembrall, Professor.”  Draco scowled, and tossed the Remembrall back onto the table, and said, “Just looking,” and then walked away, Crabbe, Goyle, and Lorelei walking behind him. 

That afternoon, they headed towards the lawns. There was a slight breeze that rustled their hair, and warm sunlight. Draco finished an apple, and tossed it into the grassy sea. They reached a flat lawn that had twenty brooms or so lying in two neat lines. A lot of the other Slytherins were there, and Lorelei recognized the other four girls from her dormitory, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, Daphne Greengrass, and Tracey Davis.  They could see the Gryffindor rushing over on the horizon, and eventually, Harry Potter and his two followers came along.

Draco looked at the brooms and scowled, “Look at these ruddy brooms! Ridiculous, not letting First years bring their own brooms, if they going to make us use these things.” Draco looked around, seeking approval for his statement, but received none. Madam Hooch, the instructor, arrived, and barked, “Well, what are you all waiting for? Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.” There was a bit of shuffling around, and Madam Hooch called, “Stick out your hand over your broom, and say ‘Up!’” Draco’s broom shot into his hand immediately, but Lorelei had to say it twice, and as for Crabbe and Goyle, their brooms stayed on the ground. When Madam Hooch’s back was turned, they simply picked them up, but they nearly fell over when they bent down, causing Lorelei to erupt into laughter.