Shoulda Been a Slytherin

One good thing about having come to Hogwart’s in the middle of term, was that I got my own room. Now, normally that’s something that is reserved for what they call “Head Boy and Head Girl”. But seeing as how the Gryffindor dorms were full, I was assigned a room near there, all to myself. Good thing too, because I’m not exactly the easiest person to live with.

I said my password to the cantankerous old witch in the portrait guarding my room, and made my way inside. I dropped my backpack by the door and made my way over to the tiny kitchenette Dumbledore had provided me. Now, that was something I hadn’t asked for, although I must admit it was welcome. At least I was able to stock up on good ol’ American junk food, something that was hard (if not nearly impossible) to come by here. Grabbing a coke out of the little refridgerator, I went back and flopped down on the couch, staring into the fire that had been laid in the huge fireplace.

Malfoy. The thought came swiftly and unbidden into my mind. There was something about that kid that just tweaked me the wrong way. Not that it was a “bad” wrong way…just a “I’m-not-comfortable-with-the-way-you-make-me-think-about-things-I-have-no-business-thinking-about” way. I gave into the silly, girlish urge to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ over his body. At least I’m doing it in private and not public, I thought letting my mind wander. Nothing like those ridiculous Quidditch “groupies” that are always all around the stands.

Quidditch had been very, very good to Draco Malfoy. At first it had taken me a couple of days to even understand what people were talking about around here when they mentioned Quidditch. To me it sounded like some sort of weird casserole. But after a couple of more days I understood how the game was played. The first match I’d ever seen was between Slytherin and Ravenclaw. I’d had nothing better to do my second Saturday at Hogwarts and had decided to wander the grounds. Vaguely I had noticed people heading towards the pitch and it was then that I realized that I would finally be able to see this game I’d heard so much about, in play.

I’ll admit, it had taken me a few minutes before I’d actually seen the point of the game…but Malfoy had no sooner caught the Snitch than I realized why everyone was so enamored of this game. It was addictive and fun to watch. Not to mention the outfits the players had to wear….hmmm. Yes, Malfoy filled out one of those uniforms quite nicely. I spent the next few minutes lost in thoughts of Draco Malfoy in his Quidditch uniform…and out of his quidditch uniform…in the showers after a game…Yes, I could almost see why the game of Quidditch had such a following of groupies.

Mentally berating myself, I reached into the drawer of the coffee table and pulled out my little weakness…muggle cigarettes. Yeah, yeah, yeah I know they’re bad for you. But you try living life as I had for the last 18 years and see if you didn’t have some sort of vice.

I’d just taken a deep drag, much to the dismay of the portraits in the room, when I heard a knock on my portrait door. Now, this surprised me for a couple of reasons: 1.) There wasn’t anyone at Hogwart’s that I’d consider myself friendly enough with to want to come and visit me and 2.) For whatever reason, I was sure this was not a social call, which meant that it was more than likely a professor on the other side of the door.

I got up and, sighing deeply, made my way to the portrait door. I didn’t bother to ask who was on the other side – I could handle myself. I flung open the door and almost lost the drag I’d just inhaled: there stood Draco Malfoy, the star of my most recent naughty daydreams. I must have looked shocked for a moment, because his ever present smirk grew even wider. I quickly schooled my features to my trademark ‘bored’ look. I opened the door wider and leaned against the frame, taking a drag off my still lit cigarette.

“Something I can do for you, Draco?,” I asked, blowing the smoke in his general direction. His eyes closed to avoid the stinging vapor, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

“Do you mind? I have no desire for my robes to smell like a mudblood.”

I sighed, dropping my cigarette into the ashtray by the door and stubbing it out. My hand found my nose and pinched the bridge, much the way I do when I feel a migraine coming on. “Again, Draco, my name is not ‘mudblood’ it’s ‘Kelsey’.”

I looked up to see him brushing imaginary ‘mudblood’ filth off of his pristine robes.

“It makes no difference to me really,” he said, suddenly looking very serious. “There’s a little matter that I wish to discuss with you. It’s in regards to the little stunt you pulled out in the courtyard earlier.”

I frowned but gestured him into my rooms. I knew I was more or less letting a fox into the hen house, but like I said earlier, I can take care of myself so I honestly wasn’t that worried about it. He walked in and took in the décor of the room with a sneer. “I should have guessed…Gryffindor colours.” He make himself comfortable on the sofa I had previously occupied, his long legs sprawled out in front of him.

“Not my first choice, but it was already decorated when I moved in.” I shrugged, taking a seat in the armchair across from him. “I’d prefer a nice black and silver or green myself.”

His eyebrows rose in something resembling surprise, but he said nothing. I sat down in one of the chairs opposite from Draco and mimicked his facial expression. “Now,” I said, adjusting my robes, “I’m sure you didn’t come by here to discuss the lack of talent the decorator of this room possessed.” I looked at him warily. “Come to think of it, I’m surprised you’re even lowering yourself enough to speak to me at all. What are playing at, Malfoy?”

Draco leaned forward, fire blazing in his silver eyes. “Do you know what you got us into when you pulled your little knife stunt back there?”

Ah. Figured. He was going to blow a gasket about me using the same knife to cut my hand as I did his. I waved dismissively. “So I used the same blade. So what? It’s not like my horrible, muddy blood got on you in any way.” I sneered. “It’s not as if you’re forever “tainted” now. If anything, it’s me that oughta be pissed, since I got your anal retentive “pure” blood on me.” I raised my hand and looked at the palm, which showed no trace of a scar…but surprisingly had started to glow a rich blue color. I looked, unable to contain my shock at Malfoy, who’s face was turning redder by the minute.

“That’s just it, Kelsey,” he fairly hissed, leaning forward angrily. “When you mixed our blood, you fucked up and royally.” He stood, growing more agitated. “Congratulations.”

“Congratulations?” I asked, rising to face him. “What the hell are you congratulating me for?”

Draco whirled around and as soon as I saw that smirk, I had a feeling that my life was going to change forever. “Because it’s not every day that you become engaged to one of wizarding England’s most eligible bachelors.”

All I could hear, aside from the rush of blood going through my head, was the slam of the portrait as Malfoy exited my rooms. Now, I can count on one hand the number of times I've been speechless in my life" when I first came into my magical powers, when I found my biological "family", and when I'd first laid eyes on Draco Malfoy. Now, once again, Malfoy had gobsmacked me to where speech was an impossiblity.

Engaged? But that's preposterous!, I thought my eyes still focused on the spot where Malfoy had previously been standing. Okay, so it must be some sort of British thing, right? I mean, it wouldn't hold for just anyone, would it? Finally the feeling came back to my legs and I dropped into my chair, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts.

Engaged.

Engaged.

Engaged.

That chant echoed in my ears to the background noise of my hammering pulse. I felt like I was going to be sick. As in, vomit, puke, ralph, bow to the porcelain god...

Just as I made it to my en suite bathroom and pitched forward to lean over the toilet, I thought of something. Just one word really, but that one word suddenly gave me hope. A hope that for the last couple of minutes had been abject horror at the thought of spending the rest of my life with Draco Fucking Malfoy.

Dumbledore.