Snow fell steadily beyond the frost covered windows of the Great Hall, but the fires crackling in the braziers overhead kept the stone castle warm. Silence had long ago made way for the low buzz of conversation, and the air was filled with a festive ambiance that didn't quite seem to reach Draco as he sat, arms folded and wearing a sneer, watching Goyle attempt to beat Nott in a game of Wizard's Chess. Parkinson sat entirely too close to Draco, leaning into his shoulder and playing with his tie as she simpered at his mocking remarks. The high, whiny pitch of her voice was going straight through his head, but honestly, Draco was more focused on figuring out how she could possibly even hear him, given how far up her ass her head was.
From somewhere outside of his inner musings, he heard Goyle make yet another noise of defeat, and scoffed to himself.
How the brute had made it so far was beyond him - and surely Nott and Parkinson, too - but a part of him was pleased. Not for Goyle. No, Draco couldn't profess to caring in the slightest whether he won or lost. But on this late Friday evening, hours after the last class and with the entirety of the weekend stretched out before him, and with nothing to do, he was grateful for the entertainment.
Life at Hogwarts had, for him, fallen into a boring and oh so predictable routine, with the days either dragging out or slipping away in a blur.
To protect himself and the Malfoy name, he had drawn himself away from other people, built up a wall to keep them out. He'd liked it best that way at first. People were cruel. People hurt you. So Draco responded in kind. He became the cold blooded snake people expected him to be, and it had felt powerful. But the venom running through his veins was lethal, and he had soon found himself completely alone, the last living in a sea of ghosts.
He wanted a way out, secretly, but he couldn't find one. He had pushed everyone away, cast them out into a cold that rather froze out himself, and fresh starts were a fallacy.
That's what Draco believed to be true, and belief was stronger than fear and hope alike.
So when he heard that low, impressed whistle, looked up to see the (fair/dark) haired (girl/boy/teen) standing within the doorway of the Great Hall, admiring the scene floating above, he ignored that thing his heart did. It was as foolish as the notion that you can look at someone you've never met and see forever. Which was a happening that certainly didn't occur in that moment. No, Draco's walls had withstood so much. They wouldn't come down now.
He watched closely as the apparent stranger walked slowly into the room, fingertips trailing the surface of the Hufflepuff tabletop.
"We're definitely not in Kansas anymore."
He didn't know who (he/she/they) were talking to. (He/she/they) was/were alone, but (his/her/their) voice was loud, and (his/her/their) eyes darted about, searching the faces of each student. It was almost as if (he/she/they) hadn't decided who exactly (he/she/they) was/were speaking to yet - as if (he/she/they) were trying to determine who amongst them was... Deserving of it. And yet, there was no judgement. No harsh scrutiny, like the kind Draco observed others with. Instead, it was with an open expression, full of curiosity.
(His/her/their) eyes were a shade of (y/e/c) that he found entrancing despite himself, and suddenly they were on him, seeming to cut straight through his many barriers, leaving him defenseless before (him/her/them).
Draco did his best to reform his expression into one of apathy as (he/she/they) approached him, soft (y/h/c) hair glowing a warmer hue under the light of enchanted flames.
And then (he/she/they) was/were stood before him. "Hi."
With (his/her/their) eyes locked on his own, it felt to Draco as if the rest of the world had melted away - until Pansy sneered, voice openly biting and judgmental as she bit out, "and just what are you supposed to be?" And that was when everything else came back full force, slamming into Draco with impetus. He tore his gaze away, returning it once more to his fellow Slytherins. Goyle had by some divine intervention not yet lost to the other male, though if the smirk on Nott's face was any indication, there was a pretty fair chance that he was playing into one trap or another.
"I was going for 'transfer student approaches other students', but if that didn't come off, I guess I didn't do a very good job."
Draco snorted softly. In response, he caught a quick smile from the new student, and an elbow in the ribs from Parkinson. Biting back harsh words of reprimand, Draco chose instead to straighten up, shifting away from her with an indignant glare.
After dusting off his pride, he glanced cooly at the (boy/girl/person) stood before him. "Draco Malfoy." He said, doing his best to leave his voice devoid of the emotions swirling inside him, and hoping to Merlin that it didn't show.
"(Y/f/n)." (He/she/they) responded, giving him that slightly lopsided smile again.
(His/her/their) accent was strange, he noted. It was American - he knew that well enough from the guests that often stayed in the Manor - and he supposed it was conceivable that he might have found it more than a little attractive.
"No last name?" He arched an eyebrow, looking at (him/her/them) in question, and observing the way the smile seemed to turn ever so slightly into a smirk.
"I've got one, but I prefer yours." The words were spoken smoothly, without hesitation, but Draco caught on them, his poker face failing him for the briefest moment at the openly flirtatious comment.
Still, it appeared to be enough, as (y/n) cursed softly under (his/her/their) breath. "I'm sorry." (He/she/they) said quickly. "That freaked you out, didn't it? I probably should've waited until after the first date to start dropping marriage jokes."
Draco couldn't help himself. "The first-?" He probably sounded like a bloody Hufflepuff, stumbling on his words like that.
"Well, yeah." (Y/n) said. "It's Saturday tomorrow, and I'm new here, so it's not like I've got anything else to do."
"And what about me?"
(He/she/they) had taken a seat at the table, now moving to rest (his/her/their) chin on (his/her/their) hand, looking up at him with a roughish look in (his/her/their) eyes. "I'm a catch." (He/she/they) said innocently. "You'd be certifiable for passing up a chance to take me out."
Draco rolled his eyes but didn't protest. "If you insist." He drawled.
"Oh, I do."
YOU ARE READING
Draco Malfoy x Reader One Shots
Fanfiction"Draco Malfoy was ice. His skin was pale, his features were sharp, and his words were cold. He bit out insults and harsh truths like it was his role in life to do so, and his cool expression would tell you that he thought nothing of it. He was harsh...
