Hide & Seek

Chapter 13 - Chosen

Chapter 13
CHOSEN

chosen
(v.) to be selected; preferred

IT was still dark in the Slytherin dormitories when Draco awoke on Saturday morning, the only sliver of light coming from underneath the shut bedroom door.

He turned lazily onto his side, watching as the parading of footsteps outside cast dancing shadows along the floorboards.

With a groan, he folded the pillow over his ears, trying to block out the not-so-quiet chatter as his older housemates trickled down the staircase.

It was too bloody early for him to be awake, especially on a weekend.

But alas, anyone over the age of seventeen was eager to throw their names into the burning Goblet, and the ruckus they were causing didn't seem to be settling down anytime soon.

Grumbling irritably to himself, Draco sat up, barely parting the deep emerald curtains of his four-poster as he peered at his still sleeping roommates.

Both Crabbe and Goyle were completely out, only Crabbe's twitching foot leaving a visible indentation in the hangings indicated he was alive at all.

Blaise's bed was already empty, where he'd run off to a complete mystery, leaving Theodore Nott the only soul apart from Draco out of bed.

Theo gave Draco a quirk of his eyebrow as the blonde-haired boy began to tug on his uniform.

"What you look so bloody peeved about this early?" Theo asked, tugging the tail of his striped tie through its noose.

Draco didn't answer as he continued to dress, slipping into a pair of fine grey trousers.

His father had finally replied to his letter notifying him of his detention. His owl had delivered the message late the previous night upon his return from the welcoming feast, it eyes as beady and judgmental as the man who'd sent it.

It had been a short and concise note, barely a paragraph etched into the crisp and clean parchment and sealed with a waxy black Malfoy family crest.

Draco—

    I heard through a source at the Ministry that Viktor Krum will be staying at Hogwarts for the duration of the tournament. Perhaps making acquaintances with someone of a higher caliber will inspire you to not make a total disgrace of our family name.

Just a thought.

His father hadn't even bothered to sign the brief letter, and after reading it's useless contents, Draco and chucked it into the fire without another thought.

His father wanted him to play politics, a position he often thrust his son into when he couldn't do it himself.

Draco was simply a chess piece in Lucius' game of life, moving him about to his advantage, the threat of smashing him to smithereens if he failed a constant guillotine.

The sharp blade felt especially near that day, the sting of metal tickling the back of Draco's neck as he finished pulling on his robes.

He thumbed over the small sheets of paper in his pocket, counting them silently in his head as he slid his wand inside and strode towards the door.

"Common Nott," he said over his shoulder, tone slick with frost as he exited the dorm.

Draco Malfoy was not a morning person.

As he and Theo emerged from the dank staircase and into the Entrance Hall, it was clear the crowd surrounding the Goblet was rather sizable in comparison to the night before.