HIS CHOSEN GIRL [MAJOR EDITING/REWRITING]

second year ➤she's a mudblood

HIS CHOSEN GIRL
chapter thirty three-she's a mudblood
[Harry's P.O.V]
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"I spent the summer devising a whole new Quidditch program. We're gonna train earlier, harder and longer," announces Oliver Wood as he leads our team out to the Quidditch pitch. "What-? I don't believe it!" Also making their way to the field is the Slytherin team. Leading them is their captain, Marcus Flint. "Where do you think you're going, Flint?" Wood sneers as both teams face each other like a war is about to break out.

"Quidditch practice," Flint shrugs obviously.

"I booked the pitch for Gryffindor today," Wood replies quickly.

"Easy, Wood," Marcus replies handing over a small, folded up piece of parchment. "I've got a note."

(y/n), Ron, and Hermione come rushing over from the bench nearby that they had been sitting on as Oliver starts reading the note, anger evident on his face. "I Professor Severus Snape, do hereby give the Slytherin team permission to practice today, owing to the need to train their new seeker," Wood stops reading the paper, his head whipping up and staring right at Marcus. "You've got a new seeker? Who?"

The team of Slytherins grin amongst each other before they each split apart to reveal none other than Draco Malfoy standing in the middle of the group, grinning like an idiot.

"Malfoy?" I ask under my breath.

The blond boy smirks in return. "That's right. And that's not all that's new this year."

I study him closely, trying to figure out what he means when I notice that he's been so obviously twirling his broomstick around in his hand. My eyes widen when I see that the entirety of the Slytherin team have got matching brooms. They're beautiful and black with a glossy finish and I really can't help but to feel jealous.

"Those are Nimbus 2001s," Ron gapes. "How did you get those?"

"A gift from Draco's father," Flint answers admiring his own.

"You see, Weasley," Draco sneers. "Unlike some, my father can afford the best."

The Slytherins around him laugh at his comment as Ron sinks down slightly and I eye Malfoy angrily.

(y/n) scoffs. "You know, Draco if your father can afford the best, how come then does he keep you around?"

The surrounding Gryffindors 'ooh' at her comment and she stands, unfazed and arms crossed, glaring at Draco. The two of them seem to have an unspoken stand off, the two of them refusing to break eye contact, as if whoever does so first, will be the one who backs down soonest.

"We'd better get to practice," Draco says finally to which (y/n) gets a satisfied smirk on her face. "Don't flatter yourself, (y/n). I've just realized how much of a waste of time and breath it is speaking to you people."