Everlasting (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Goblet of Fire

Sitting at the Slytherin table at Hogwarts, you looked on at Dumbledore who, after the students had been sorted into their houses, proceeded to go on to introduce the Triwizard Tournament, which you'd heard all about thanks to Cedric. Dumbledore introduced the schools of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, two different wizarding schools which made their entrances into Hogwarts more than majestic. The girls from Beauxbatons were very beautiful, with gorgeous blue uniforms and very elegant natures. When the students of Durmstrang, on the other hand, arrived, they proved to be far more competitive; all boys, all projecting their dominance and power, stamping canes against the floors of Hogwarts, releasing fire, and overall being excessively dramatic.

"Bit dramatic, ain't it?" Malfoy whispered over to his friend Blaise. You turned your head to look at him as he made the comment, and his eyes met yours for a singular moment, but he returned to his typical glare and then averted his attention to Dumbledore again.

"Each school will have one contestant. To enter, you must be at least seventeen years of age."

You flashed a smile at Cedric at the Hufflepuff table, who smiled at you. His friends immediately began to pat his back and cheer him on, knowing he was planning to apply.

"To enter, you must put your name in the Goblet of Fire," Dumbledore said, aiming his wand at a large golden sculpture, before gently aiming his wand lower and lower, causing the gold to melt as it finally revealed a large Goblet, standing ever so majestically in the middle of the altar in the Great Hall. And with that, Dumbledore gently tapped his wand at the Goblet, and thus a large blue fire erupted from the tip, causing all the other fires in the room to fade away, causing the blue fire to be the only source of light in the hall. However, after a moment, a large thunder began to form itself over your heads, with lightning sparking from nowhere. All the students looked up, confused as to whether this was supposed to happen, however Dumbledore's confused expression revealed that it was, in fact, not. The clouds grew more and more menacing, when they suddenly cleared away by a flash of lightning from a wand, which came from a new teacher with a fake eye, holding a cane.

"It's Mad-Eyed Moody," one of the students at the Slytherin table whispered.

"Who's that?" You asked.

"Used to be an Auror."

You nodded, pretending you knew what that meant, when you did not, but you did not feel the need to inquire further.

That night, you found yourself lying in the Hogwarts courtyard, long past curfew, lying down on the grass outside and looking up at the sky. The way the stars floated beside each other, or the way the clouds moved back and forth, scraping each other gently - it was a peaceful sight, one which you hoped would distract you from your worries. You knew he was coming back, but you'd never really considered how you were going to take your approach. You always argued how you were going to be the one to kill him, but looking at it realistically since it was happening, how were you planning to do that? You were not even yet fifteen; a mere fourteen year old with a big dream to kill off the biggest and strongest wizard of the wizarding world. It was crazy talk. Only now were you becoming aware of the seriousness of the situation and how ridiculous you'd sounded previously. This was no fantasy, this was no imagination - you had to fight, sooner or later, but you knew nothing of how to do it. And thus, you grew more and more worried, because you were running out of time and who knew how long it was going to be before it was too late and you were face-to-face with him. Even teachers, greatest wizards, were afraid to pronounce his name - how were you to fight him without getting yourself killed? You were not ready to die.

"Bit late to be out, ain't it?" Malfoy's voice resonated within your ears, and for a moment you wondered whether you were hallucinating his voice, but this was debunked when his face appeared over your head, only upside down as he looked down at you on the grass. "It's past curfew."