Bride of the HP Dragon

Draco Malfoy was a weird boy because he seemed to give her a walnut.

In the quiet class of Advanced Runes, Hermione sat at her desk and stared suspiciously at the walnut, until she realized how stupid she was, because the walnut was a deformed letter.

She could almost imagine Malfoy rolling his eyes at her and saying, "Wow, Granger."

Professor Flores was giving his seventh-year Gryffindors and Slytherins quizzes from the monthly Rune Guide to pass the time.Hermione finished the quiz quickly so she could spend the remaining half of her time deciphering the cryptic symbols.

After she made sure that the students around her were concentrating on answering the questions, she carefully placed the walnut on her lap, and then turned it back to its original shape.

Malfoy's letter reads as follows:

"Pete came back early today with a reply letter, apparently it's raining in London and this stupid bird doesn't like the damn weather and bites YEOH's finger. Thanks Pete for 'cutting his lips', no bleeding, but a shower The wound was very painful."

YEOH, Hermione said the name again to make sure she read it correctly, who is YEOH or something?

"Our contact asked to meet next Saturday in London and then arrange for an expert to look at our little problem. Experts are asking for a lot of money, no doubt. Take it easy, I'll bring the money."

This proud idiot, does he really think she's a pauper?

"I'll get back to you before the meeting.

Your sincere and always submissive husband. (Note: Original YourEverObedientHusband=YEOH, Draco played a word game.)”

Her lips twitched amused because "YEOH is your forever submissive husband" and that was it.

There is a postscript at the end of the letter.

"PS

Weasley is looking at your boobs again. "

Hermione had to hold back a laugh, peeking at breasts was nothing new.Lately, Ron has been far more interested in communicating with girls' boobs than in communicating with girls themselves.But Hermione guessed that was pretty normal for a 17-year-old boy.

Hermione was convinced that normal was good.

Malfoy, on the other hand, was not a normal boy, and occasionally downright weird.However, it was still a bit embarrassing for him to discover Ron's frequent gaffes, and she really needed to have a discreet talk with her friends.

Blaise, sitting in front of Hermione, turned from his chair.He asked Hermione with a thoughtful expression, "Are you done yet?"

His desk is littered with scribbled paper, and his rune dictionary is still in his bag.Like Hermione, he didn't use a dictionary unless he really couldn't do it.

"It's done." Hermione knew Blaise's situation well, so she wouldn't help.Brace doesn't accept help, and frankly doesn't need it: "I hate Nordic the most." He complains: "Those The secret language is driving me crazy."

"I like these secret words." Hermione shrugged. She didn't feel sorry for her intelligence at all, at least not yet.

Blaise snorted, "Granger, you like problems. As long as there is a problem, you will be brave and persistent to solve it."

It was an interesting observation, especially one that made Hermione immediately think of Malfoy again, because it just so happened that she couldn't really get answers from him sometimes.To use an analogy, judging from his recent note to her, if others imagine him to be vicious and cunning, he has the ability to act like you think.

But at the same time he displays intelligence and arrogance that are just as charming as the destructive and envy-inducing qualities he displays.And the biggest surprise, undeniably, is that he has a great sense of humor.

Anyway, Hermione reminded herself, that didn't make him a good guy, nor did it make up for the mistakes he'd made.

The Slytherin common room was rowdy on a Saturday evening, not only because a group of first years had smuggled a jar of Buzzy Fudge's Fly into the common room, but because the rest of the students had already known there was going to be a A friendly Quidditch match.

Innocuous betting had begun on who was the winner, the score, the degree of injury, and the number of fouls committed. A fourth-year Ravenclawson bet a record 60 galleons on his school's victory.

Draco sat cross-legged on the rug by the fire, his head buried in the Daily Prophet in front of him.Prices have now risen again because of the audacious theft of dragon blood shipped from Hungary.Draco had a bit of trouble reading the financial news on page 23 and couldn't concentrate because Pansy kept knocking on his leg, asking him to repeat what was now being dubbed "Harry Potter's public castration". Say it again.

Younger students gathered around and occasionally bet two Nats.The only two students in Slytherin who didn't participate in the Quidditch discussion at all were Blaise and Dour Goyle, who was moping about not being able to compete.The two were sitting in a corner, conversing intently.

"Isn't it a little too cruel to use the word castration?" Carmen Melifulan said.

"It's better to be called Broken Wing Potter." Dodds, a third-year boy with protruding eyes, quickly said.He's destroying a tin of biscuits on the fly: "Also, being sidelined in a game like this...I mean like when the Chamber of Secrets happened a few years ago, didn't they let him play with someone else?"

"What do you know, you tadpole!" Carmen asked him coldly.She usually didn't like people shorter than herself, and this boy had been unfortunately designated as a bully by Draco from his first week at Hogwarts.Dondice Dodds had confronted Draco last year, trying to figure out why the older boy didn't like him.

Draco, telling him in typical Draco style: "Because you look strikingly like frog eggs."

Before the day was over, the nickname "tadpole" spread like wildfire.

"My name is Dondis," Dodds yelled at Carmen, spraying Draco and his paper with spittle-stained cookie crumbs.

Draco looked up from the newspaper irritably: "My God, tadpole, if you dare to spray me with scum again, I'll turn you over and push your head into the nearest toilet."

What happened next shocked everyone, and Dodds was undoubtedly the best.The boy blinked, then stood up slowly, after three years of bullying, and this week he had been sternly reprimanded by Draco in the Great Hall, which had clearly stretched his limits.

He pointed at Draco with a fat finger: "You can't scare me anymore, Malfoy. I don't care who you are, you won't even be a prefect anytime soon, so why don't you get the hell out of here right away, and why don't you get out of here now?" We are in peace!" With strong self-esteem, he passed by the sluggish Carmen and disappeared behind the door of the boys' dormitory.

"Well," Carmen announced after the dorm door slammed shut, "he's not far from dying."

The common room was so eerily quiet that Hufflepuffs could be heard getting ready for bed a few floors away.

Draco folded the newspaper and wondered what the hell had happened, a third year student wasn't afraid of him anymore?Obviously this is impossible?

Growing up in Slytherin house was like growing up among wolves.It is up to the alpha wolf to decide what is good and bad, right and wrong, and every qualified Slytherin must know the rules.For Draco, his family property guaranteed his status, his appearance gave him points, his talent was crucial, but his surname was the key to his status.

With Lucius' prestige reduced to that of a pair of mismatched stockings, any weakness could become an excuse and a trump card for young ambitious brats to use against him before stepping on his cold and gorgeous corpse. climb.

This has happened frequently since Lucius went to prison.

It took Draco months to solidify his position, and of course using Crabbe and Goyle helped a lot with the nefarious strategic combination.Pansy Parkinson, on the other hand, knows everyone's private gossip. She knows that Blaise's dad likes guys around Blaise's age, and that fifth-grader Elena Longbridge has six toes on her right foot That's why she never wears open-toed sandals even in the summer), knowing that graduate Alex Montagu had a corrupt bureaucratic grandfather who was blackmailed by everyone in the department who had a handle on him.

It was Pansy who broke the silence that evening, speaking in a strained voice: "Now you all go to sleep, right now."

"What? Even me going?" Blaise asked, sitting far away in a corner with Goyle.

"Yes, you're going to sleep too, President of the Student Council," Pansy ordered this time with a little pleading, "You've got to get a beauty sleep."

Reluctant, curious but obedient, Pansy sat down next to Draco after the last student entered the dormitory and closed the door.

He looked visibly downcast.

"What's the matter with you?" Pansy snapped. "If Dodds had dared to talk to you like that a month ago, you would have put your shoe in his mouth."

Draco buried his head in his knees, his wonderful blond hair glistening against the black cashmere of his school trousers, and his voice sounded indistinct: "I'm just tired, Pansy. Because of my age, I'm not 15, you know. I'm going to be 18, and I'm going to be 20. I think I'm going to have a double chin by the time I'm 21.”

"Oh, shut up!" she said exasperatedly, "Did something happen to you recently and you didn't tell me?"

Draco found himself wanting to talk.

Yes, something did happen.where do i start?On our huge decaying estate, my father was slowly going mad, and I thought he was already showing signs of psychosis.

Every day I look forward to hearing about his attempts to slay our last remaining house-elf with snail claws and string.

Plus, it looks like Voldemort's fanatical, spell-throwing henchmen are hiding somewhere at Hogwarts ready to fire, determined to recruit a new legion of fools by the end of the year.

For this reason, the Ministry of Magic wants me to spy on my friends in exchange for the rights that I was born to have.

Oh dear Pansy, if that doesn't turn your stomach, I married a shaggy Hermione Granger last week, and she's attached to me right now, and I want her to hide in my crotch.

Yes Pansy!I'm a victim of bloody magic, shit luck and hormones!I can't stop thinking about that shaggy banshee.I want to talk to her, I want to touch her, I want to see the freckles on her nose that you can only see when the sun is out.I want to pet her silly cat, I want to make her smile and blush with embarrassment, I want to watch her push pancakes smeared with jam on a plate...

"Nothing happened," Draco replied gruffly, and Pansy narrowed his blue eyes slightly on his.

She moved her mobile phone to her carefully cropped hair, and Pansy did this gesture to show that she was frustrated: "Well, keep your secret, Malfoy. You know I always find a way to find out from."

Draco snorted, "Okay, tell me something I don't know."

He climbed to the nearest couch, pulled off his school uniform tie, and spread out on the leather sofa, with the newspaper covering his face.On the up side is the news of a burst water pipe at the Magic Pet Shop in Diagon Alley.Distraught shopkeepers are scrambling to chase ferrets, kangaroos, boa constrictors and owls that have escaped after flooding their shop.

"Well, I've been madly in love with you since the second grade." This was Pansy's spontaneous answer.

This time, there was a full 2 ​​minutes of silence, and finally Draco announced, "Okay, damn it..."

Pansy rolled her eyes: "The good news is that I didn't expect a flowery answer..."

"You won't want me, Pansy. I'll lie to you, I'll be mean and dirty, and you'll hate me forever."

She didn't seem to be surprised or flustered by this: "I know, it's just because you don't love me, not the reasons you said."

"You and I, we're not made for that kind of thing. People like us can trade, but don't have vows of eternal love. I like you, but I'll crush your greedy little heart," he told her .

She lifted her chin, and Draco couldn't help but think that her nose looked shorter because of the movement: "Who says I'm greedy?"

Draco raised a noble golden eyebrow in response.

"Okay." Pansy took a breath.

"I have nothing now, and I can't promise anyone," he added earnestly, "We've been at a disadvantage since our father became a Death Eater. If we had children, they wouldn't know that no one What a good life without doubt, without fear, without lack of trust. He killed us, Pansy, Voldemort killed us with his grand ideals. He was doomed, and I'm glad I ended up with I woke up before my father died... my father, who was exiled, mad, and trying to look sexy in a silk nightgown." Draco's voice had an oddly mocking edge to it.

"Yes, but you still have the wand and the title in the end!" Pansy insisted: "My family, lost almost everything we valued. We lived in a rented house, for Merlin's sake. Abandoned, I have nothing left to lose but you, Draco, and actually..." She knelt down beside him so he could look at her: "Actually, I never had you."

"Pansy..."

She cut him off with her hand: "I'm not begging you, I'm not the one who's changed. I like our original life at Hogwarts, I like beautiful things, I like money, I like things that mean a lot to us." Family tree. I like you back then."

Draco looked at her angrily: "Don't be stupid, I'm still the same person."

"Need Dandith Dodds to prove it?" she retorted bitterly.

"You can't make me the same vicious bastard I was when I first came here! I've grown up and I've gotten better. I'm telling you, no matter what, I can't turn back time!"

"Yeah, you can't!" she agreed, grinning gleefully, kissing him on the cheek, and standing up, as far as Pansy was concerned she was going to end the conversation: "I'm looking forward to Wednesday's game. Draco, make sure you catch The Snitch. I hate Oro, and nothing gives me more joy than watching these Ministry idiots walk off the Quidditch pitch in defeat."

Draco watched in confusion as Pansy picked up her schoolbag and went back to her room.His silvery eyes were as cloudy now as the clouds that swept over Scotland that week.For the first time since Wednesday's meeting in Dumbledore's office, he felt the pressure of haggling with Arthur Weasley.

"Willing to serve the girl who loves me." He muttered, suddenly feeling the loneliness he had never felt in his young life.