The Minster's Daughter- Draco Malfoy

flying paper.

Diary,

Watching her saunter up the girl's hallway plagued me with guilt. She has no idea what can of worms she's just opened. Well, she's oblivious in general. Oh Audrey, if you knew what I knew about you. I shouldn't have touched her, but  lust got the better of me. I called her body 'mine'. Objectifying her. She liked it. Why? Perhaps because nobody called her theirs? But, nevertheless, she certainly is mine. She doesn't know so. Intel is like a hangman. Innocent and guilty. Right now, I have bloody hangman's hands, but my hands are her best friends, as proven today. Wonder if they'll acquaint themselves again. I don't wonder, actually. I know they will. She's mine.

Yours insincerely, 

D.L.M

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What Barty had said to me had stuck with me as I sat on the table in the Great Hall. I felt odd, sat at the Beauxbatons table wearing my Hogwarts uniform, but we move.

I was fucking exhausted. Why did I have sex with Malfoy after getting a pathetic night's sleep? Blaming Millicent always.

Everyone was piled into the Great Hall once again, and I could see the trio sat with Fred and George at the sides. Rose sat at my side, holding my hand. As it turned out, she had put her name into the Goblet. As I remember, not many of the girls actually put their names in, Maxine put 'nominated' names in the other day, which is cruel, really. But nobody was really going for it. Maxine had told me that she was told to enter my name. Whether she had or not was a mystery.

The chatter amongst everybody soon silenced, as Dumbledore and my father walked to the front, to the Goblet.

"Sit down please. And now the moment you've all been waiting for, the champions selection!" Rose's hand squeezed mine, hard. I'm not sure she really wanted her name to erupt from the goblet, I think it was more of a family pressure thing. My eyes scanned the room, looking at the nervous faces of the people sat at the tables and the ones of awe looking from benches at the sides, one of which was Malfoy. He was staring. He collected that I noticed, smirking at me. 

I had to snap away, because the flame glowed red, a piece of paper spurting from it, then softly floating into Dumbledore's hand.

"The Durmstrang champion is... Viktor Krum!" Of course. Everybody clapped, as Krum stomped down the centre, shaking hands with Dumbledore. How was he not shitting himself?

"The Hogwarts champion... Cedric Diggory" I had met Cedric once, in my first couple of days. He seemed ecstatic to be chosen, as once again, the room was clapping and cheering.

Rose's hand was now compressing my own.

"The Beauxbatons champion is... Audrey Crouch."

 Time stopped. No. It couldn't be. My trance was broken, as Rose hugged me. What? I had to do it. Father used to tell me that it's a contract. Maxine and I would be having words.

I stood, barely holding myself, as I approached Dumbledore. He looked concerned, probably because my face was white as paper. I glanced at my father, who was shocked as I. The paper was handed to me, and I made a b-line for Madam Maxine.

"I'm sorry, darling! She had me put it in, and I confided in one of your professors and they agreed! I thought it would be Fleur!" I couldn't even cry. I looked back and Fleur looked heartbroken- important side note, the goblet was pink again. Wait. WHAT!

Paper flew from the goblet, once again floating into Dumbledore's hand.

"Harry Potter. Harry Potter?" Harry's face paled, like my own.

"HARRY POTTER!"

After some shuffling, Harry emerged from the crowd at the side of the hall. People shout, saying he's a cheat. He isn't seventeen. Neither was I, but we move. He looked awful. His face was white, eyes widened. He couldn't have put his name in. There was an age band around the goblet. For the third time that day, I asked myself; what's going on?

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The common room was full tonight, and I was sat in the champion's dorms of the castle. By myself. How thrilling. 

Maxine spoke to me, told me she was sorry. I love her, but sorry won't do it right now. I wasn't in the mood.

The room I was in was perfect. Dumbledore had put a spell on them, to be unique to each of us. Harry refused though, saying he wanted to stay in the Gryffindor dorms as normal. Oh boy, was he missing out.

My room was a replica of my room at home. The estate in Sailsbury, that is. It wasn't too big, nor too small and my bed sheets were fresh. However, here the room looked lived in. At home, my blinds don't even get opened. Not since Barty is apparently stealing identities left right and centre.

I sat, reading about the tournament, seeing as I was a competitor. Silence filled the room until the door flew open, a familiar blonde figure waltzing in, his hands clenched.

"I could have been changing for all you know." he bit his lip, looking up at me.

"Nothing I haven't seen before, wouldn't you agree?" he smirked at his silencing statement. "Any how, I came to tell you that Snape gave us a project. It's due in two weeks. He told me if I don't help you, I fail." He sounded so informative- and his eyes averted to the floor. "Also, you're coming with me to the quidditch stadium tomorrow morning so I can see if you have these chops Snape keeps telling us about. He excused us from timetable for the day." His eyebrows were raised, making him look fairly innocent. His eyes now scanned my room, stopping and squinting at something on my drawers. 

He picked up a photo frame, inspecting it. It had been a while since I'd been in the room and the elves liked to move my photos around, so I wasn't too sure what it was.

"Whose this?" he came and sat opposite me on my bed, handing me the photo.

I turned it, seeing me and Barty and my parents. I was my mother's lap, 3 years old. My father and Barty stood behind her.

"That's me, there. That's my mother and there's my Father and Barty." he looked at the photo, then at me, then back to the photo.

"You look just like her" he paused, thinking for a second "you know, my father always talked about your family growing up. He said that your blood was 'just as pure as ours' and that we should treat you as equals." he smiled at the photo, but I had something to say.

"Draco, you should treat everybody as your equal." I took the photo from him, walking to place it back into it's spot on my drawers.

"You take it for granted, you know."  I hummed, hoping he'd drop the subject, but his hand found my wrist, turning me around. His grip was tight and painful, probably intended, as it didn't loosen when I squirmed. "You should be grateful for blood like yours. Could save you one day from god-knows-what is lurking around."

His hand released my own. He turned on his heel, leaving my room- not before mumbling a quiet '10 am sharp' before slamming my door.

I didn't understand where I stood with Draco. One minute he pretended like nothing happened, but when we're alone, he can make an innuendo. I thought about it a lot that night, missing more sleep than I'd care to admit.