Pariah: The Other Malfoy

Chapter 46: Sore Loser

Harry didn't answer; he turned away with me to meet the rest of the team who were now landing one by one, yelling and punching the air in triumph, all except Ron, who had dismounted from his broom over by the goalposts and was making his way slowly back to the changing rooms alone. I felt awful for him, it was only his first match!

"We wanted to write another couple of verses!" Draco called, "But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly--we wanted to sing about his mother, see--"

"Talk about sour grapes," I said, casting my brother a disgusted look.

"--we couldn't fit in useless loser either for his father, you know--"

Fred and George had realised what Draco was talking about. Halfway through shaking Harry's hand they stiffened, looking around at Draco.

"Leave it," said Angelina at once, talking Fred by the arm. "Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he's just sore they lost, the jumped-up little--"

"--but you like the Weasley's, don't you, Potter?" said Draco, sneering, I stepped forward slightly, "Spend the holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I supposed when you've been dragged up by Muggles even the Weasley's hovel smells okay--"

Harry grabbed a hold of George; meanwhile, it was taking the combined efforts of Angelina, Katie, and I to stop Fred leaping on Draco, who was laughing openly. I looked around for Madam Hooch, but she was still berating Crabbe for his illegal Bludger attack during the match.

"Or perhaps," said Draco, leering as he backed away, "you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it--"

I was not aware of Harry releasing George, all I knew was that a second later both of them were sprinting at my brother. They had clearly completely forgotten the fact that all the teachers were watching. With no time to draw out his wand, Harry merely drew back the fist clutching the Snitch and sank it as hard as he could into Draco's stomach--

"Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO!" I yelled.

Girls' voices were screaming, Draco was yelling, George swearing, a whistle blowing, and the crowd was bellowing around us all. Suddenly, both Harry and George were on the ground, Madam Hooch having cast a spell on both of them to get them off Draco.

"What do you think you're doing?" screamed Madam Hooch, as Harry leapt to his feet again. She was holding her whistle in one hand and a wand in the other, her broom lay abandoned several feet away. Draco was curled up on the ground, whimpering and moaning, his nose bloody; George was sporting a swollen lip, Fred was still being forcibly restrained by the three of us, and Crabbe was cackling in the background. "I've never seen behaviour like it--back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now!"

Harry and George did as they were told, going to see McGonagall. I watched as Umbridge spoke to Draco before marching after them, and shot my brother a dirty look. He just smirked at me before wincing in pain, causing me to grin.

We took Fred up to the common room, waiting on news of what fate Harry and George received. When we got the news, Angelina was beyond angry.

Harry and George received lifetime bans, as did Fred. But apparently, my brother claimed I had tried to attack him too when speaking to Umbridge, so that ban included me also. That left Gryffindor down to three players, and I was seething.

"Don't," Harry grabbed me as I moved to storm out the common room, "She won't change her mind. She's already taken our brooms from storage and is locking them away."

I clenched my fists, crying out curses at my brother, before going upstairs. He really just hated me, he had been fine the year before! My anger was less to do with the Quidditch ban, it was just a game after all. No, the reason I ended up flinging things about my dorm before collapsing on my bed was because of how clear it was that my brother and I could never go back to how we were. All because of the Dark Lord.

My father was unimpressed when I got off the train at Christmas, until I explained to him privately what the truth was. No mention was even made of the argument before I left for Hogwarts, too much had happened since. Our conversation resulted in Draco getting chastised, and him sending a letter to Umbridge to request taking possession of my broom, a request that would likely be accepted.

I also found out Snape had told him about my detention, having been told by McGonagall. He was equally angry about that, but he couldn't do anything as he was expected to remain on Fudge's good side. Instead, all he could say was for me to keep my head down.

"I do! And I end up getting a lifetime ban from Quidditch!" I cried out, glaring at my brother.

My father looked exhausted, and I felt a pang of guilt for lashing out. Draco stormed out the room, leaving me with my parents in an awkward silence. I sighed slightly, rubbing the back of my head. There were bigger things going on than my issues right now.

"Sorry," I said quietly, "I know you're preoccupied. You don't need my issues as well."

"No, it's fine," my father collapsed in a chair, "Did you hear about Arthur Weasley?"

"Please tell me you didn't have anything to do with that," I whispered. Mr Weasley had been attacked when guarding whatever the Dark Lord was after, and Harry had seen it due to his connection with him, saving his life.

"No, of course not," my father glanced at me, "I may dislike him, but I wouldn't kill him. No, the Dark Lord sent Nagini to do it. But how did the Order find him so quickly?"

"You know I can't tell you that," I smiled slightly.

"Lyra," my father hesitated, "We will be having some guests soon. And I want you to promise me you will stay out of their way, never be alone in a room with them."

"What? Why?" I questioned, frowning.

"Just promise," he sighed, "You'll find out soon."

He glanced at my mother, who mirrored his worried expression. What was going on?

I found out a few days after Christmas, around the New Year. My father burst into the living room suddenly, where I was sat pouring over a book, his eyes looking around wildly before settling on me.

"Go to your room," I hesitated, closing the book slowly, "Now!"

I did as I was told, climbing the stairs as quickly as I could. It was the full moon in a couple of days, so I was feeling worse for wear and spending most time lying on the downstairs sofa, but my father seemed so panicked that I couldn't argue.

The familiar crack of Apparition came from downstairs as I closed my bedroom door, and I pressed my ear against it, listening intently.

"Bella," my mother spoke, her voice tense, "I see the breakout was a success."

"Cissy," an unfamiliar voice replied, "My dear sister, it's so good to see you. Lucius."