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OtterySt.Catchpole · 11-15-2006, 05:31 AM

Draco Malfoy

“Threstal Quidditch? Are you insane? Even if I could see the bloody beasts,” Draco lied, “What makes you think I’d want to ride them? Filthy animals.”

“I was trying to be kind Draco,” Nott said silkily. “I mean…what with that nasty incident you had with the hippogryff last term. It should be dragons, but I doubt you’re up to using an Imperius Curse just yet. Much less on a creature of that size.”

Pansy for her part was ignoring the boys. All she knew was that she was bored, looking out of the window of the dull study. Outside the manor were spread the long green grounds of the Malfoy Estate, lush, and verdant. By contrast, a rainbow of colors caught her eye, just underneath the window. It was Narcissa Malfoy’s garden. Pristine perfection meticulously cared for. You would be hard pressed to find a withered flower, or any kind of insect in that garden. And gnomes? The idea was ludicrously preposterous. The time spent slaving away to have it ready, the way the constant gardener pruned guiding the buds and branches to grow as much with magic as with personal care was too much. The statues perfectly polished stone to glisten brightly, equally in the sun as in the moon’s light. Narcissa’s garden parties were the talk of the wizarding community.

“It’s funny,” Pansy thought, “Narcissa gets all the praise even though none of the work is actually hers.”

“What do you think Goyle?” Draco asked suddenly, the sound of his voice breaking through Pansy’s reverie.

She turned to see Crabbe and Goyle sitting next to one another. Pansy could see crumbs down Crabbe’s robes, they had been stuffing their faces with the pastries and biscuits on the table. Nott was sitting across from them, his legs dangling off one side of the armchair his head resting on the other armrest as he played with a knife in his hands. It was an interesting little thing, simple, black and silver. It was the mark at the hilt that caught her attention.

“Oh that’s rich. Turn to your lackeys why don’t you?” Nott said laughing.

Cross, as always, was standing in a dark corner — this despite the fact that the room was so brightly lit — being quiet, and watching them all curiously. He had his arms crossed, and his hair fell over his eyes covering them. That boy bothered her. Draco meanwhile paced up and down behind the couch. She could see he was clearly afraid of the notion, but he was struggling inside. His common sense was battling his sense of honor, after all, he was a boy, and it would not look good if he backed down.

“You know it was originally played on the backs of…”

“Dragons, yes Pansy we know,” Draco snapped at the girl, giving her a withering glare. She was not helping the situation any, his face accused.

He was obviously in a foul rut and she was in no mood for it. Pansy got up from the windowsill were she had been sitting and walked out of the room quietly. If Draco thought he was getting her attentions he was sorely mistaken. She could hear the boy’s taunting him about it as she stood eavesdropping behind the closed door.

“If you can’t control your animals anymore than your women … ” the foul Cross boy was saying. There was the sound of a spell, but she had not heard the incantation.

“You insult Pansy saying that,” Nott said, clearly affronted. She could see him still lying on the couch. It had not been he that had sent the spell. “Nice shot Draco!” Theodore said before he started laughing.

At least the prat had had the decency to stand up for her. Though in truth, she knew Draco had done it so as not to look any more a fool in front of his friends. Pansy sighed and walked away. She was not going to the Quidditch World Cup with that prat, even if Draco did ever bother to ask her.

11-15-2006, 05:31 AM	#14 (permalink)
OtterySt.Catchpole SS Featured Artist DA Poet Rupert is My Man! SS100 Triumphant Aethonan Join Date: Jul 2004 Location: Lovin m wolf & dingo Posts: 18,891 Hogwarts RPG Name: Ottery St. Catchpole Third Year	Paris & Kellybear r luv :Read Otty 's fics:Gone With the Wind:I♥Rupert Draco Malfoy “Threstal Quidditch? Are you insane? Even if I could see the bloody beasts,” Draco lied, “What makes you think I’d want to ride them? Filthy animals.” “I was trying to be kind Draco,” Nott said silkily. “I mean…what with that nasty incident you had with the hippogryff last term. It should be dragons, but I doubt you’re up to using an Imperius Curse just yet. Much less on a creature of that size.” Pansy for her part was ignoring the boys. All she knew was that she was bored, looking out of the window of the dull study. Outside the manor were spread the long green grounds of the Malfoy Estate, lush, and verdant. By contrast, a rainbow of colors caught her eye, just underneath the window. It was Narcissa Malfoy’s garden. Pristine perfection meticulously cared for. You would be hard pressed to find a withered flower, or any kind of insect in that garden. And gnomes? The idea was ludicrously preposterous. The time spent slaving away to have it ready, the way the constant gardener pruned guiding the buds and branches to grow as much with magic as with personal care was too much. The statues perfectly polished stone to glisten brightly, equally in the sun as in the moon’s light. Narcissa’s garden parties were the talk of the wizarding community. “It’s funny,” Pansy thought, “Narcissa gets all the praise even though none of the work is actually hers.” “What do you think Goyle?” Draco asked suddenly, the sound of his voice breaking through Pansy’s reverie. She turned to see Crabbe and Goyle sitting next to one another. Pansy could see crumbs down Crabbe’s robes, they had been stuffing their faces with the pastries and biscuits on the table. Nott was sitting across from them, his legs dangling off one side of the armchair his head resting on the other armrest as he played with a knife in his hands. It was an interesting little thing, simple, black and silver. It was the mark at the hilt that caught her attention. “Oh that’s rich. Turn to your lackeys why don’t you?” Nott said laughing. Cross, as always, was standing in a dark corner — this despite the fact that the room was so brightly lit — being quiet, and watching them all curiously. He had his arms crossed, and his hair fell over his eyes covering them. That boy bothered her. Draco meanwhile paced up and down behind the couch. She could see he was clearly afraid of the notion, but he was struggling inside. His common sense was battling his sense of honor, after all, he was a boy, and it would not look good if he backed down. “You know it was originally played on the backs of…” “Dragons, yes Pansy we know,” Draco snapped at the girl, giving her a withering glare. She was not helping the situation any, his face accused. He was obviously in a foul rut and she was in no mood for it. Pansy got up from the windowsill were she had been sitting and walked out of the room quietly. If Draco thought he was getting her attentions he was sorely mistaken. She could hear the boy’s taunting him about it as she stood eavesdropping behind the closed door. “If you can’t control your animals anymore than your women … ” the foul Cross boy was saying. There was the sound of a spell, but she had not heard the incantation. “You insult Pansy saying that,” Nott said, clearly affronted. She could see him still lying on the couch. It had not been he that had sent the spell. “Nice shot Draco!” Theodore said before he started laughing. At least the prat had had the decency to stand up for her. Though in truth, she knew Draco had done it so as not to look any more a fool in front of his friends. Pansy sighed and walked away. She was not going to the Quidditch World Cup with that prat, even if Draco did ever bother to ask her. __________________