pureblood.

t h i r t y - s i x

The pitch is a completely different sight to what it was last night. People are everywhere. The lack of uniforms makes it difficult to recognise anyone. I walk over to the Slytherin tower and start to climb up the stairs.

I get to the top and my Uncle Severus is standing there like he was waiting for me. I catch his eye and he nobs his head to the side gesturing me to come over to him.

My Uncle never changed the way he looked. He always wore the same black cloak what looks to be a white turtle neck underneath. But he never took of his cloak. Not even in summer when he would visit on my birthday.

"I'm assuming your feeling better." He says as I approach him on the stairs.

"Much better, thanks." I say trying to remember what illness Malfoy had made up to cover for me.

"Are you okay sitting up here or you want to come sit in the teacher and family box?" He asks as some other students push past us. "Have you made any friends?"

"Blaise is probably the closest thing to a friend I have. But his playing."

"Come on. Let's go to the teachers box. I can't stand the thought of you watching the game alone." He says as he starts to walk down the tower steps.

He always known that I found it difficult to make friends. The last real friend I had was when I was in Cheshire. Her name was Amy and she had bright blue eyes and pin straight black hair. I remember that she was the only friend that was allowed in my house. Her mother worked at the school and Amy would come over for an hour after school every Friday. Since then I never actually had a real best friend.

"Would I be allowed to sit up there?" I ask realising that Malfoy's father would be sitting there watching the game.

"I've already spoken to Professor Dumbledore. Come on."

We get to the bottom of the Slytherin tower and walk over to the towers which had black patterned fabric covering the wood underneath. We get to the stairs and I walk behind him hoping that nobody had notices me going to sit with my Uncle. We reach the top and we walk to the second row of benches from the front. I sit down as Uncle Severus sits near the aisle.

I look to my left and see a tall man with long icy blonde hair sitting beside me. The pin straight hair looks as if it was tied at the back. I lean backwards and see that half of his blonde locks is in a platt at the middle of his head, tied off with a black ribbon at the end keeping it in place. His eyes are a cold grey and his complexion is the colour of snow. This is Draco's dad. He looked so similar to Draco but yet so different. They shared the coldness but not features. Draco's lips are plump and bring some colour to his face. But his fathers lips are dead straight and colourless. Almost like he is dead.

"Severus." Draco's dad says as he tries to resemble something that is a smile.

"Lucius." My Uncle replies with a nod.

"Who's this?" He asks my Uncle looking down at me.

"This my niece, Ivy." Severus explained to him. "She's become rather close to Draco over the last week."

Brilliant. Even my Uncle knew that I liked him. I'm positive he can read minds. If this is not embarrassing at all.

"Ah. We meet at last." He says then holding out his hand. "Lucius Malfoy." I reach out my hand to shake his and his skin is extremely cold to the touch. Like he has been put on ice.

"Ivy Snape. Nice to meet you." I reply as I let go of his wintery grip.

"Oh yes. Your the girl that is sharing a room with him this term aren't you." He says with a face of recognition. Malfoy spoke about me to his parents what the hell. He doesn't seem to be the type that would be close with his family.

"Merlins sake, Ivy. What happened to your arm." My uncle exclaims at me as I turn to face the pitch again. He has hold of my arm and holds it up so that he can inspect it closely. Fuck.

"Nothing." I say to him giving him the look. The look was something that we had created to say don't talk about it. It was a stern expression where I would scrunch my face together and look him dead in the eye. I first used it when my parents where arguing about me being able to have a wand at my thirteenth birthday. My mother had mentioned the incident when a beaker of boiling water was spilled on me and I had no burns. She said that people would notice eventually. My uncle let's go of my arm and returns his gaze to the pitch. The game is about to start.

I watch the game but I had no idea how the sport worked. A load of wizards flying around in broomsticks with a ball floating around.

None of us speak as we watch the game. It's not like we would be able to hear each other anyways, all you can hear is the crowd chanting and screaming.

I drift off and my gaze wonders over to Draco. He is flying around the pitch looking like he is trying to catch something. He was fast too. His green cloak flaps around in the wind as he glides through the air.

Suddenly, something with wings comes flying at my face. It stops right in front of my eyes. It was a golden ball with silver wings on either side.

I examine the ball and suddenly Draco is looking at me past the ball. I ignore the stupid gold ball. I look into Draco's eyes as he looks into mine. His colourless eyes are kind of beautiful. His face seems slightly remorseful as he looks at me. What was he thinking? The golden ball flies away from our faces and disappears. But it doesn't break our gaze.

He glances downward and then looks back at me. He half smiles at me. Then catches his fathers eyes on him.

"Draco!" Lucius exclaimed at him.

He looks back at me and then flies back over to the pitch. His scent lingers for a moment as he flies away. The strong cologne reminds me of that night. Our night.

Memories flash in my mind of me and him laughing over the strawberries on the floor. His kiss on my neck. His arms around me as we slept. I didn't remember that last detail until now.

I look back at the pitch and look for him. His at the far side of the pitch being chased by someone in the Gryffindor uniform. I squint and realise that it was Harry that was chasing him. And I realise then that they aren't chasing each other. There chasing the golden ball.

I think back to the tiny knowledge that I remember about the game quidditch. Malfoy is a seeker which means that Harry is also a seeker. When the seeker catches the snitch, the team wins the game. I recollect from a conversation I overheard from some of the first years.

Malfoy could have won the game for Slytherin, but he didn't take any notice of the golden ball. He just looked at me. Even when the ball flew away, he didn't even seem to care. He looked into me, like I'm a beautiful creature, never seen before.

Fuck. He has this hold over me that I can't get him to release. It's like not being able to gasp for air. Like drowning...