Life's a book and this is a new chapter (Draco X Reader)

Draco Malfoy, Slytheirn Prince himself, has been teasing a muggle born witch for quite a while, one who doesn't even want to be at Hogwarts. could they possibly want the same thing? Could this girl be the one to change him?

(Originally written for a contest on Deviantart.)


1. New Chapter

    Grey skies stretched across the canvas that was the world. Oh, how you wished it was still the world you knew a few years ago. Streaks of silver raced down the window's glass body, you preferred to pretend that the little droplets were racing each other. You normally picked the bigger drop, it seemed logical, collecting all the other smaller ones that clung to one spot and didn't dribble down far enough to escape. It made as much sense as the rest of your life, so who was to judge? 

    Certainly not your house mates and best friends, Harry, Ron and Hermione. Hermione also doubled as your roommate, so that worked out, sort've well. 

    Your name was (Name) (L.Name) and you were a third year muggleborn student attending Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and wizardry. If anyone were offered the chance to drop out of boring old muggle school and be a wizard, they would have tackled the opportunity. It wasn't living the dream like you might have imagined it.

    The palm of your hand still hurt from where you had scraped it earlier, but it was no longer bleeding. Malfoy pushed you into a wall earlier, after breakfast. Oh, how you wished you would just get angry at him. Just once, loose your temper, scream, shout, some form of retaliation. That wasn't something you'd do, you rarely got so angry. Instead, you just smiled a very sweet smile, every time. It was probably a little too sweet now that you thought about it. That scum Malfoy didn't deserve such a gesture directed at him.

    Your father, a professor that majored in literature, always taught you to be kind and forgiving, even with the nastiest people. It was a bit difficult for you, it's not easy putting up with some people, but you felt that if you lost your temper you'd be disappointing him in some form. You didn't want to do that. You loved your parents, more than anything. More than magic. More than Hogwarts. 

    You probably would have slapped him around a bit this time, you were already having a bad morning and nobody wanted to mess with you when you were in a mood, but then you saw the rain. It calmed you, it always did. You had the entire day to yourself, a Saturday, if you so wanted it to be. So, you cleaned yourself up a bit,put on some comfortable (dark/light) jeans, (color) sneakers and a (color) hoodie to combat the colder atmosphere, and here you were now. You watched the rain, tracing patterns like 'connect the dots' with your eyes was a peaceful pass time but deathly quiet. Kids of all years were either studying, socializing, sleeping, or doing some extra activity. 

    Rain, it was your favorite weather, by far, that much was obvious. Oddly enough, it always seemed to be in countless memories. Your first day at kindergarten, the day you met Lukas and Arthur, the night you got your letter from Hogwarts. . . and the day you left on the train your first year. You remembered not able to tell if your parents were crying or if that was just the rain streaking down their pale faces. They didn't question your magical abilities, they just embraced it as best they could. It was sad really.

    Mother, your mother, always told you that rainy days were the best because all the exciting things happened. When you were younger, you would always ask her why that was, because you really thought that when it showered it was boring. You could never go outside when it was pouring because you'd track mud into the house, or stain the hardwood floors. She told you that was just the point, there needed to be a day when you had to sit in and calm down a bit. It didn't make sense until you were older.

    "It's raining, it's pouring, all day long," You sing-songed quietly to yourself, arms crossed over your chest and supporting your body weight as you leaned in closer to the window. Though, not close enough that the cool glass grazed your nose.

    Suddenly, you felt the need to cry, to wail out loudly, but you knew why. It wasn't just a sudden mood swing, it was homesickness creeping out from the depths of your heart and attacking your brain. That was always there, beneath the depths of your consciousness and you were sure that it wasn't something that would go away anytime soon.

    It, this thing that morphed from your unhappiness, preyed on your sanity, and it used your heartwarming memories against you. It took advantage of your own mind like secrets kept in an unlocked diary. It fingered through your remembrance of early days, picking and choosing from the pile of film reels until it found the exact ones it wanted. 

    You knew exactly what you missed. You missed sleeping in your own bed the scent of your home wafting around you and stroking your hair with gentle fingers. You missed take-out Sunday dinners and cuddling up in front of the fireplace with a good book. You missed your friends, Arthur, Elizabetta, and Lukas. You missed your ignorance the most of all. 

    Why couldn't you just have been born one way or the other? It would save you so much trouble, it wasn't even funny. Why couldn't you just be a mundane muggle, or the time-honored Pureblood? Why, why why!?

    "It's raining," You muttered to yourself, teeth gritting together like steel rollers, as if that would wash away the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes and the furious knot of anger boiling at the pit of your stomach. It wasn't like this was your first year, which was the worst of them all, you were in your third year for God's sake! You weren't a kid anymore, you should be used to everything by now. You shouldn't care.

    "So it is, it's a good thing you mentioned it just then or I wouldn't have known,"

    In the reflection of the window pane you saw the warped and distorted picture of the last person you wanted to see at the moment. Draco L. Malfoy. Frozen to the spot, you pretended to have not heard him. 

    'What do I do? Oh, just go away. Shoo, Shoo, just go away,' You were panicking on the inside, your own voice bouncing off the walls of your skull. You just wanted him to jeer at you and walk away, you wanted to be alone with your pitying thoughts.

    "Hey! I'm speaking to you!" 

    'Yeah, Yeah, I hear ya', brat,' Your mind chirped in the most sickly cheerful voice you could imagine yourself using. You pushed away from the stone windowsill, just enough that you weren't leaning on it.

    "Come to apologize for earlier?" Your voice was flat, (h/c) eyebrows furrowing slightly in attempts to express the annoyance you felt. You didn't even attempt to smile or move for that matter. 

    "Why would I do that?" His face twisted into a scowl, which you really couldn't see. Nor take the energy to care.

    "Because it's the right thing to do," 

    "Oh? And so whatever you say goes now? Is that it, Mudblood?" He snarled, heavy footsteps following after. You still refused to look at him, he'd see the hate in your eyes, burning out your soul.

    "What's it to you? You think the exact same way," 

    "But I have a right to. You're just a mudblood, you shouldn't even be here," He spat, his hand grasped roughly onto your shoulder.

    Well, that did it. There went your self-control, right out the window. Now it was sitting in the soaked grass, with rain making it all flimsy and utterly useless to you. It was quite odd, having realized later, that he hadn't really ever touched you. Sure, shoved into a couple hundred walls by his friends, books toppled to the floor and then stepped on, spilled ink on your reports, but he'd never actually made any attempt to touch you. 

    You didn't even stop to think about what you were going to even say to /that/. You spun around and grabbed the edges of the cloak he was wearing over a clean off-white blouse, his hands fell to his sides. Staring straight into his eyes with fire dancing around like the pits of hell themselves, you had just scared Draco Malfoy stiff. 

    He knew you, and this, was not you at all. Draco, of all people, actually did pay attention. Being so different from all the other mudbloods he'd encountered, it was only natural for him to take a liking to you. Not a liking, persay, but more of an interest. Unlike Hermione, among others, you didn't get upset, you didn't try to combat him. You acted as if nothing was wrong with the way you were treated, and that was the ultimate puzzle. He had to figure you out, and overtime he had picked up bits and pieces of your personality- practically an entire persona right in his hands. He would rather not admit it, but maybe he'd grown a soft spot for you, three years was a long time, after all. This was not you. 

    "You idiot, have you ever stopped to think that we're on the same side?!" You seethed, the rough scraping on your palm throbbing as they were curled tightly into a fist around fabric. "I would love nothing more than to not be here, to not have to handle you and your pathetic friends! To be at home, with my family and my real friends in a sane life!" You paused, "In your selfish existence have you ever thought that we might have one single thing in common?"

    "I-I" You didn't even take note of his stuttering or shocked expression, you were off on a spiel. He'd never heard you yell before, well, maybe at a Quindditch match, but that was an exception. 

    "Sure, I'm running off of filthy blood, but I didn't choose that. Who would!? It's not my fault. Your thick skull won't let you accept that, and I can't stand it! If it were my choice, I wouldn't even be here at all. I'd just be a simple muggle, who went about her daily life. A girl who chatted with her friends at lunch, laughed with her family, listened to (music type) bands, failed math quizzes, and went to college! We'd both be perfectly happy," Exasperated and emotionally exhausted, your voice went quiet. 

    "But I can't do that, so just- Ugh," Blinking teary (e/c) eyes, you shoved him away and stalked down the hallway in the direction of the Gryffindor common room. 

    Draco watched you disappear behind a corner, not sure what he was supposed to make of that episode. In some   depth of his heart, there might have been a bit of guilt, twisting and withering in pain. He was more confused than ever. . .

    It made him think, about what you said. Not that he voiced this sudden, what would it be called, development of mind? However, you avoided him like the plague he found himself noticing you more and more. The somewhat poetic words thrown at him earlier in the year nagging at him.

    He tried to quell it, whatever it was, but it was. . . difficult. He'd subconsciously find your figure when you entered a room he just so happened to be in, and in class his grey eyes wandered to you when he stopped paying attention. Draco knew your little kinks by heart, the way you'd play with your hair when you were nervous or bite your lip when you were concentrating. The way your smile suddenly seemed contagious, or how you laughed to fill an awkward silence. It was rather annoying that he couldn't concentrate on anything important with you in the room. He had absolutely no clue what had gotten into him.

    The fifth year at Hogwarts was a crazy year, knitted in between studying and Harry's secrete project, there were undertones of a certain someone coming back into power. Prefects and that annoying woman dressed in all pink was just the icing on the cake. It wasn't until the very end of the year were you sure that everything was going downhill. 

    One night it rained, you heard it from outside of your dorm room. In a zombie like state, you pulled yourself up from the comfortable sheets and put on actual clothing before sneaking out of Gryffindor tower. You padded down the hallways until you came upon your favorite spot, the window that bordered what was technically Slytherin territory. You leapt onto the ledge and curled yourself slightly slightly, chin resting on your knees and arms locked around the fronts of your calves. 

    The rain was so pretty, the way it shone in the moonlight and created a melody of drums and smaller cymbals all crashing together at the same time. Watching it until you were sure your brain had gone numb, and eyes droop closed. You must have fallen asleep.

    "Is that what normal people do? Sleep wherever they want, when they want?" 

    "I'm not exactly your run-of-the-mill person, remember?" With a lazy stretch up above your head you froze, you knew that voice. Your eyes blinked open as slowly as you could possibly make them. Maybe unnaturally slow.

    "What is it like to be normal?" The question completely knocked you off guard, Draco Malfoy wanted to know what it was like to be. . . a muggle? It sounded sincere, too, but that wasn't enough to sway you.

    "Is this your way of setting up a clever joke to belittle me? I must say, you've gotten a bit sloppy," You hissed out, stretching out your legs, which felt like trying to tear two pieces of packing tape apart, arms crossing over your chest.

    "No, that wasn't it at all. but now that you mention it, I should really do that," He arched his eyebrows at you, mouth set in a scowl. Of course you couldn't just answer a simple question and be on your way.

    "Should you now? I must still be dreaming, you taking advice from a mudblood, PAH!" Your attitude fell the longer you looked at him. So you turned away sharply, nose in the air.

    "I'll admit I've been an ass-"

    "I wish I had a camera," You laughed slightly, but it wasn't a pleasant sound. Draco locked eyes with you, which were staring at him out of the corner of your eye, the side of your head pressed to the cool glass. 

    "Ya'know I could do without your commentary!" He snapped, watching your fingers move to a strand of (H/C) and starting to wrap it around your index finger. 

    "Can we please just cut to the chase?" You mumbled boredly, tracing the pads of your fingers across the smooth clear material, following the little droplets racing down to the ground.

    "Alright, let me repeat myself, 'What is it like to be normal'?" 

    You paused for a minute, the edge of your lip making it's way in between your front teeth for a moment. Draco nearly smiled at the age-old habit, but didn't. Obviously, why would he even think about smiling at a stupid mudblood?

    "You already are, why do you have to ask me?" You whispered,

    "I meant your definition of normalcy, (L.Name)," His voice was meek, almost not even his voice but a squeaky replacement. 

    "Do you ever just suddenly feel like your being tricked, yet you continue  your way anyways?" Your tone was softer, a sad smile crossed your face. You were still you, no matter how hard you tried to be snappy. You were feeling bad, so you chose to answer him.

    "It's the way the world works, isn't it?"

    "My normal. . ." Humming slightly to yourself, you thought of what you wanted to say. 

    "Just a muggle life, I guess. One where it's . . . blissful ignorance. No potions, no transfiguration, no owls, shape-shifters, or prophesy's telling of the end of the world. Nothing truly spectacular, like this world is. . . this place- it's gorgeous and I was wrong to shout at you," Pulling down hard on your own hair, you added,"I'd want this all to myself too," 

    "Your ordinary sounds dreadful," He scoffed, rolling his steely grey eyes and taking a step closer to you. For a moment he felt a sense of disgust pulling at him, this was the wrong thing to be doing. . . or was it? He wasn't sure anymore.

    "Maybe to you, I don't think you would be able to understand anyways," Your face was lit up by the somewhat bright smile dominating it. You clattered to the floor clumsily, balancing yourself

    Brushing past him and towards your dorm rooms, but you stopped right before you turned the corner. Your silhouette staining the ground that was bathed in silver moonlight with a dark black. 

    "Thank you, by the way," You whispered.

    "For what?" He called. You were such a baffling character, Draco thought. For a moment, he forgot about your heritage, you were just another girl. One that spun him in circles constantly. 

    "I don't know, it just felt right to say it," You shrugged nonchalantly, slipping behind the corner. 

    Chaos. That pretty much summed up the battle of Hogwarts in a neat little package. The only bow it needed were the dead bodies strewn about like confetti. When all was said and done, you weren't sure how to feel exactly. A part of you wanted to cheer, and shout with everyone else. The other wanted to go throw up in the girl's bathroom and contemplate the meaning of life. The only other distinguishable part wanted sleep, and only sleep. 

    The main room was alight with candles, people being bandaged, loud speaking, celebrating, and swearing. You stood there, dumbfounded with your situation. Your wand was clenched tightly in your (left/right) fist, the smooth (wood type) shaft leaving an impression on your hand. Eyes finding the faces of all the individuals in the room, you stepped around some people until you found the person you wanted. A lonely little boy by the name of Draco Malfoy.

    You brushed your bangs over the few cuts and bruises on your forehead, a makeshift way of making yourself look more presentable. You had tried your best to wipe some of the blood off of your hands, but hadn't bothered to rub the dirt from your cheeks. Immediately, you noticed he didn't look as- flawless as usual, but you wouldn't judge.

    Sitting down beside him you rubbed your palm, the same one that scraped across jagged stone so many years ago, and offered it to him. 

    "(Name), I'm s-" He scowled at you, eyes narrowing at your exhausted and beaten form. You were still pretty, even for a mudblood, he decided.

    "It's a fresh start, Draco. So, all is forgiven," You held out your hand, with an almost pleading look dominating your features. You wanted to fix him, well, fix wasn't the right word. . . but would it be if he was broken?

    Staring at you with a blank expression he looked from your eyes, down to your hand and back. A lot of thoughts passed through his mind all at once, memories, actions, regrets.

    "How?" He rasped, his calm facade breaking. A little to easily for his liking, "How can you just-"

    "It's in my nature, like it's in yours to be an idiot," It might not have had anything to do with feeling pity for him. Maybe you just had a thing for blonde guys and hadn't realized it soon enough. 

    Draco had the feeling that you didn't mean what you said, or possibly you did and he just chose to ignore it, so he took your hand. One step to creating a new chapter in his book of life. 

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