BORN TO DIE    ╱    DRACO MALFOY
꒷꒦ · ˚.‧ . written by ella . . . © -lostgardens
011 ━━━━━━━━━ ❛ it's quidditch ❜

The boys were rambling about quidditch, and Olivia was oh-so-close to sticking quills in her ears because, at that moment, having blood seep from her eardrums was more appealing than listening to another word about the godforsaken sport.

Her paranoia had been on the fritz ever since she received the unwelcome birthday present a few weeks earlier. She hadn't mentioned the weird note and cloth of objects she had received to her friends or Draco, and she wasn't planning on doing so.

You'll need these for your protection. Do not trust anyone.

The words on the note poked at the back of her skull as she sat at the Slytherin table with her friends and Malfoy. She was bundled up in her school uniform, though you couldn't see it due to her long black coat and her thick Slytherin scarf, prepared for the cold weather that awaited her. Her hands were bare, but in her coat pocket sat some leather gloves, and she was wearing the boots Blaise had gotten her.

After her birthday, she decided that the Zabini boy was right: her shoes were worn out and it was time for a new pair, and since he had so graciously gotten her some, she retired her old ones.

Pansy had begged her to wear the sweater she had received, but Olivia couldn't for the life of her understand why. Pansy knew that she hated the color pink, and Olivia believed that she had wanted the sweater for herself.

She had begun reading more, Daphne's first edition being the rightful choice. William Makepeace Thackeray was a literary genius, and both girls have happily discussed that on many occasions since Olivia's birthday.

Theodore's parchment, quills, and inkwell had come in handy when she wrote to her brother, just as the present had been intended; she had yet to use the journal he got her, but she was sure that she might one day.

Lucas' bracelet stayed on her wrist at all times. She was still upset over how expensive it was; she didn't want her brother, or anyone else for that matter, to spend that amount of money on her, and she was sure to have a word with him about it when she returned to her manor in a month's time.

And finally, Tommy, aka the best pet a girl could ever ask for, quickly became her favorite furry companion. But she hated that Malfoy had to be the one who got him for her. Why did it have to be him? Why, why, why? She tried not to show too much gratitude around him because she didn't want him to get the wrong idea—that she was actually able to tolerate him.

"I can't believe stupid Potter gets to play quidditch this year," Malfoy spat, rolling his eyes. "What makes him so special?" he muttered, looking down at his plate and pushing his food around with his fork.

"Well, it's kind of your fault that he got the position in the first place," Olivia told him, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"And how is that, may I ask?" Malfoy's brows raised, his face full of offense due to her accusations.

The people sitting around them stopped eating their food and looked between the pair, who were glaring at one another.

"Well, if you hadn't taken Longbottom's Remembrall and instead of giving it to Potter, flown in the air, taunting him with it, then he wouldn't have flown up to get it from you, and McGonagall wouldn't have spotted his natural talent for flying." She sarcastically smiled, and by the look on Malfoy's face, she could tell that she hadn't gotten under his skin, just as she wanted. She looked down at her plate, pushing her food around with her fork, and mentally congratulated herself for annoying him.

He didn't mutter a word, but his counterpart didn't extend the same courtesy. "She's got you there, mate," Theodore remarked, patting Malfoy on the shoulder.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he muttered, not looking at anyone who sat beside him.

Pansy let out a little laugh, which she quickly covered up before he could notice. Then the table went silent, and everyone began eating once more. Olivia pushed her food around, taking bites every so often, but she couldn't shake a feeling she had.

Someone was staring at her. It was a familiar feeling. And the chill that ran down her spine along with it. It wasn't Malfoy; she knew that much. She had grown accustomed to the feeling of his eyes on her and the feeling her subconscious mind felt when he did. It wasn't one of her friends either; they never stared at her for no reason.

She looked up, first at the professors' table at the front of the Great Hall. She had reckoned that it was Snape trying to poke into her mind to see if she was behaving herself like she was told to, but she didn't meet his eyes, and she couldn't feel him prodding into her mind. In fact, none of the professors were looking at her; they were all too busy eating or talking to one another.

That's when she decided to take a peek all around the Great Hall. Her green eyes scanned the semi-familiar faces until they came across a pair of blue eyes shielded by the frames and lenses of circular glasses.

Harry Potter had been so keen on Olivia Mallard.

Another staring match, ay, Potter?

He looked as if he were in a trance. He was staring at her, but the stare was blank, like he didn't even realize his gaze was fixed on her. Just like that night so many weeks ago.

Strange.

She narrowed her eyes into thin slits, determined to break their eye contact. But he didn't budge A sense of deja vu washed over Olivia, causing her to slightly shutter, but her eyes didn't leave Potter—and his didn't leave her. Not until Granger, who sat next to him, waved her hand in front of his face.

He quickly looked away but took a small glance back at Olivia, still seeing her glare at him suspiciously. But once he looked away completely, moving his attention into the conversation the two next to him seemed to be having, she looked away. But she didn't miss the glances the trio shot at her favorite professor.

Her brows furrowed. Don't trust anyone.

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

Standing in the Quidditch pitch stands was a bore for Olivia.

She had no idea why the boys had decided to drag her and her roommates to watch this silly little game. And of course, the boys were still rambling on and on about quidditch. Their thoughts about the sport hadn't stopped since the Great Hall, and Olivia was close to strangling all of them.

Putting the homicidal thoughts in the back of her mind, she turned to Pansy, both of them giving each other bored looks. Olivia let out a sigh of frustration as Pansy went back to talking to Daphne. And after a moment of the constant chattering, Olivia had enough.

Her eyes darted to Blaise, Theodore, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. "Will you five—" she began, her voice at an apparent level of loudness filled with annoyance, "please stop talking about Quidditch?" She continued after taking a deep breath to calm herself.

The boys looked at her with shock. Theodore, who was standing beside her, raised his hands defensively. "Sorry, cranky one," he muttered, trying to stifle a laugh. Then he reached into his pocket as Blaise and Malfoy looked towards the pitch, not muttering a single word. He pulled out a Chocolate Frog and offered it to the girl. He raised his brows. "Chocolate Frog?"

She inhaled, feeling eyes on her, most likely from the students around them, confused as to why she yelled. "Sure," she sighed, taking the box from his hand. She sloppily opened the box, not too enthusiastic about the 'famous wizard' she was destined to get.

Pulling out the card, she rolled her eyes. "Well, that's disappointing," she mumbled to herself.

Theodore looked over her shoulder. "Who did you get?" he asked, trying to take a peek at the card.

Her eyes traveled to his face, which was way too close to her when her head was fully turned. They both took a step sideways in the opposite direction to put some distance between them.

"Dumbledore," Olivia informed him, an obvious disappointment in her tone and expression.

"Is that bad?" he inquired, his brows furrowed in confusion. What was wrong with getting one of the most powerful wizards to ever exist? "He's one of the most powerful wizards and the headmaster of Hogwarts," he snorted, almost as if her disappointment was funny.

"Yes, it's bad, because every time I get a chocolate frog, Dumbledore is the wizard I get," she replied, taking the frog out of the box and shoving the card back in. She popped the frog in her mouth as she watched the expression on Theodore's face change.

"You're exaggerating, aren't you?" He scoffed, digging in his pocket for another box. "There's no way that you get him every single time." He handed her the new Chocolate Frog, nodding for her to prove her theory to him.

"It is true," she told him, opening the new box. He watched closely as she pulled out the new card, and lo and behold, on it was Dumbledore. She turned it to him so that he could see it better, and his eyes went slightly wide as she ate the Chocolate Frog.

He shook his head, running a gloved hand through his curly hair. "That has to be a coincidence; I still don't believe that you get him every single time."

And before she could say anything, she saw Theodore's attention snap away from her and towards the pitch, and she guessed that the game was starting.

She watched, but she wasn't paying attention to anything happening. All she could gather was a bunch of Slytherins and Gryffindors flying about on their brooms, houses cheering for the team of their choice, and the announcer talking about what was happening through a particularly loud microphone.

At one point, Olivia contemplated just leaving all together, but—something she hated to admit—she didn't want to disappoint her friends with her absence, so she stayed. And oh, how she was glad she did, because, about however long into the game, Potter's broom began to act up, and Olivia knew that it wasn't supposed to do whatever it was doing.

He was flipping around, going back and forth, upside down, then right side up again. She stifled a laugh due to the concerned gasps she heard from around the pitch. "What's up with Potter's broom?" she questioned, looking between her friends (and Malfoy).

She watched as Malfoy shrugged, his eyes meeting hers for a moment before quickly going back to the game. Her gaze returned to the boy wearing glasses, and she watched as his broom continued to betray him, if you will.

Then, at some point, Potter nearly fell off his broom, only holding on by the grasp of his small hand on the handle of it. He managed to get a better grip on his broom by putting both hands on the handle. But still, he dangled from it, a heaping number of feet off the ground.

Olivia looked back at all of her friends (and Malfoy), and she noticed a particular happy smile on the blonde boy's face. She rolled her eyes at him and his source of entertainment, then looked around the pitch. She saw a ton of worried looks on students' faces and some of the professors' faces, but when she looked at one professor, she saw him muttering something.

Professor Quirell's eyes were deadlocked on Potter, and his mouth was muttering something, which caused Olivia to scrunch her face with curiosity. She went to speak, but before a sound could leave her vocal chords, her attention was snatched away and onto Snape, whose robes were on fire.

After that, Potter regained his power over his broom, and he was back in the game. Olivia didn't really care after that, but she watched the game boringly. Potter went after the person, whom Olivia believed to be the Slytherin seeker.

The two boys rammed into one another a couple of times, then they dove down, going towards the ground. The golden snitch was zooming around, trying to escape their trail. And when the Slytherin boy and Potter got dangerously close to face-planting the grass, the Slytherin boy let up and moved away, while Potter continued in pursuit of the snitch.

Harry got up on his broom, almost as if it were a surfboard. He followed the snitch, being careful not to misstep and fall off his broom. That is, until he misstepped and went flying off his broom. But lo and behold, Harry Potter never would have ended something badly.

He had caught the snitch in his mouth, which was an automatic Gryffindor win.

He held the snitch up in the air, causing everyone but Slytherin to cheer. Olivia heard the boys let out sad sighs, muttering, "No." She rolled her eyes and turned to them. "Why are you all so disappointed?" She paused, narrowing her eyes in confusion. "It's just a silly game."

"It's Quidditch!" they all called out, causing her eyes to widen in shock at their tone.

"Alright then," she muttered, turning away from them.

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

━━━━ ella's speaking !
if you like this chapter, good for you, bc i don't 🤭 ( kidding, it's just not my favorite )

the fact that i wrote "friends and malfoy" so many times is so funny to me bc olivia doesn't consider him her friend, yk

i have the rest of act one, act two, and act three for this book completely planned out, and that adds up to be 60 chapters in total ( there's still like six other acts to plan—this book is gonna be really long lmfao )

make sure to comment and vote!

kisses.

━━━━━━━━━━━ born to die,
© -LOSTGARDENS,        august 2023

word count: 2371.   written: 8.27.23.   published: 8.28.23.