Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader Fling!Marco Flint x Slytherin!Reader Harry Potter x Sister!Reader
Summary: Harry Potter's twin sister y/n Potter transfers to Hogwarts during the third year. With Harry being a Gryffindor being sorted into Slytherin was hard enough. Now having to battle the shadow that comes with being the twin of the chosen one. On top of being the only girl on the Slytherin quidditch team. In the notorious cold-blooded house, Y/N leans on the Bronze 5. Eventually falling for the pureblood prince, himself Draco Malfoy.
Warnings: Retired Voldy AU, Angst, Fluff, Cursing
A/N: Not really sure what my end goal of the series is but here you go! P.S not my gif.
Following the second day of tryouts and other players congratulating you. You walked into your dorm expecting to see Blake and Pansy who were surprisingly nowhere to be found. You contained your slight disappointment and gathered your things to take a shower and wash the day off. After your refreshing shower you step out the bathroom in your green silk pajamas and before you could say anything, the door to the dormitory swung open, and Pansy and Blake came barreling in. With all three of the boys following behind them. Blake’s eyes went wide the second she spotted you, and without any hesitation, she squealed, rushing forward and throwing her arms around you.
“You did it!” she practically yelled, shaking you by the shoulders with excitement. “Oh my god, I knew it. I knew you would. How did it go? Was Marcus horrible? Tell me everything!"
You laughed, trying to calm her down. “It went... better than I expected, honestly. Marcus wasn’t too bad, a bit of a show-off, but we had a good match.”
Pansy smirked from her place on the couch, eyeing you with that knowing gaze she always had. "And you’re officially on the team, huh? Seems like Flint has a thing for inviting certain people."
You raised an eyebrow at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Pansy just shrugged innocently, though her eyes glinted mischievously. “Oh, nothing. Just heard he doesn’t ask everyone to play one-on-one.”
Blake gasped dramatically. “Are you saying Flint is trying to flirt with Y/N?! Oh, this is juicy. Tell me you flirted back.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your composure. “I wasn’t flirting with him! I just played quidditch.”
Blake leaned back against the couch, sighing dramatically. “Oh please, everyone saw the way he was looking at you. Don’t think we didn’t notice.”
Before you could respond, Blaise cut in with a smirk. "Well, whether she flirted back or not, it’s obvious she left an impression. That’s what matters. Right, Potter?"
Draco, who had been oddly quiet, suddenly turned to look at Blaise. His eyes narrowed, but his voice was calm as he said, “Marcus probably just sees her as a good player. Nothing more.”
You caught Draco’s glance but didn’t dwell on it. It was strange, the way he was acting. He seemed... different. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Maybe it was just that he didn’t like Marcus Flint. After all, Marcus had a bit of a reputation around here—both as a tough quidditch captain and for his firier romantic life.
“Well, I’m not interested in all that,” you said, brushing off the lingering conversation about Marcus. “I’m just here to play quidditch and win the house cup.”
Enzo slapped you on the back, grinning widely. "That’s the spirit! I can’t wait to see you smash those other teams. We’ll be unstoppable!"
“I’ll drink to that!” Blaise chimed in, pulling out a bottle of firewhisky from his bag and holding it up like it was a trophy. “A toast to our newest team member!”
You laughed as Enzo, Blaise, and even Pansy grabbed cups. The group was in high spirits, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of joy. These were your people—no matter how sarcastic, mischievous, or unpredictable they were, you loved them for it.
As Blaise poured the drinks, Draco remained quiet, his expression unreadable. He didn’t reach for a cup, but when he caught you looking at him, he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something bothering him, but before you could ask, Blaise raised his cup and called for attention.
“To Y/N! The girl who managed to get Marcus Flint to eat out of the palm of her hand!”
Everyone cheered, and you rolled your eyes playfully, raising your own cup. As you took a sip, the warm firewhisky slid down your throat, sending a comfortable burn through your chest. The chatter continued, and you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment, soaking in the camaraderie of your friends.
The day after Quidditch tryouts dawned early, and despite the late night, you woke up energized, ready to face whatever the day had in store. The tryouts had gone better than expected, and by evening, the official results were in: you had secured a spot on the Slytherin Quidditch team. Word spread quickly around the school, and soon everyone, regardless of house, knew the news.
That evening, as the excitement in the Slytherin common room began to build, you received an unexpected but welcome surprise. There was still a stigma for students from different houses to crash each other’s parties these days; though rivalry between the houses wasn’t nearly as strict as it once had been. Gryffindors wouldn’t often mingle with Slytherins during these after-hours celebrations, and tonight seemed to be a huge exception.
You were relaxing on one of the plush couches, all dressed up as basically the guest if honor, when the door swung open, revealing none other than Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They weren’t alone—Fred and George Weasley followed closely behind, their faces lit up with mischievous grins. They’d always had a knack for attending the most happening party, no matter whose common room it was in.
“Y/N! There you are!” Harry’s voice cut through the noise as he spotted you.
You smiled, getting up to greet them. “What are you guys doing here?”
Fred sauntered over and threw an arm around your shoulder. “Heard a certain Potter made the Slytherin Quidditch team, and we had to come see it for ourselves. Plus, a celebratory Slytherin party? That’s history-making in itself, Y/N. We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
George nodded, grinning as he looked around at the lively common room. “You know, this lot really isn’t so bad when they’re not trying to hex your head off during a match.”
Hermione rolled her eyes, pushing his shoulder playfully. “Honestly, George. It’s just Quidditch. Y/N’s brilliant, and we should all be happy for her.”
Hermione smiled warmly at you. “Congratulations, Y/N. Making the team is no small feat.”
Ron chuckled, grabbing a drink from a nearby table. “Yeah, but joining the Slytherin team? That’s a whole different kind of bravery.”
Harry, who had been standing nearby, finally spoke up. “She’s right, Ron. Besides, Y/N’s always been the best at Quidditch. It’s about bloody damn time she got some recognition. You’ve seriously earned it.” He grinned at you, his green eyes lighting up with pride. “I’m proud of you, sis.”
“Thanks, Harry,” you said, smiling. “That means a lot.”
Before anyone could speak, Blaise, who had been hanging out with the others nearby, joined your group, offering drinks to your brother and his friends. "Well, well, the Gryffindor squad shows up to celebrate. We must be doing something wrong or maybe somthing right."
Fred grinned, taking a drink. “We’re just here to see if you Slytherins know how to party as well as you brag about.”
“Oh, we do,” Blaise replied smoothly, flashing a smile. “And tonight, we’ll show you how it’s done.”
The party was already in full swing. House banners hung from the ceiling, casting green and silver shadows across the room. The air buzzed with conversation, laughter, and music. Students from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and, of course, Slytherin mingled with each other, proving that house rivalries were nothing but friendly competition when the school day ended.
“Honestly, you guys make it sound like Slytherins have horns and tails,” you teased, looking between your Gryffindor friends.
Fred shot you a playful wink. “Well, I have heard rumors about Malfoy…”
Draco, who had been talking to Pansy nearby, caught Fred’s eye and walked over, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Weasley, if you’re going to talk about me, at least get your facts straight,” he drawled, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
Ron, who usually couldn’t resist taking a jab at Draco, just shook his head and took a sip from his drink. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, Malfoy. We’re not here to start anything.”
Hermione gave Draco a polite nod. “We’re just here to celebrate Y/N’s success.”
Draco’s smirk softened a bit, and he turned to you. “I suppose that’s something I can tolerate. Just don’t let your brother and his friends destroy the common room.”
“I’ll make sure they behave,” you replied with a grin, nudging Fred and George as they looked around the room, already scouting potential spots for pranks.
Fred raised his hands in mock surrender. “Us? Misbehave? Never.”
As the night went on, the party only got livelier. More students from other houses trickled in, adding to the festive atmosphere. Everyone enjoyed a good celebration. Students mingled across house lines, chatting about everything from Quidditch matches to upcoming exams.
You found yourself dancing with Hermione and Blake at one point, laughing as Fred and George attempted to show off some ridiculous moves. Even Harry and Ron were pulled into the mix, their usually serious expressions replaced with carefree smiles.
Draco and Blaise watched from the sidelines, amused but choosing to stay out of the dancing chaos for the moment. Eventually, though, even they were pulled in by Pansy and some of the other Slytherin girls, who were determined to make sure no one stayed on the sidelines.
The highlight of the evening came when Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch captain, walked in with a few other team members. He spotted you immediately and sauntered over with a grin. “There she is—the new Slytherin Quidditch star.”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Flint. I’m just happy to be on the team.”
“You earned it,” he said, his voice carrying the tone of approval. “I’m expecting big things from you this season, Vip.”
Before you could respond, Fred chimed in, leaning in with a grin. “Big things, you say? You know, Marcus, if you ever need a few tricks to make your games more exciting, you’ve got two experts right here.”
Marcus eyed Fred and George warily but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. “I’ll keep that in mind, Weasley.”
As the night wore on, the party continued to swell with energy. Drinks flowed, laughter echoed off the dungeon walls, and the line between Slytherin and the other houses blurred even further.
As the night went on, you felt a deep sense of belonging. You were surrounded by friends, both old and new, and despite the house rivalries that often dominated school life, here you were, sharing laughs, stories, and celebrations with students from every corner of Hogwarts.
It hit 1am and, people began to filter out, heading back to their dorms. Eventually, it was just you, Draco, and Blaise left, sitting around the fire. Blaise had his head leaned back against the couch, eyes closed, clearly in no rush to leave. Draco, on the other hand, was sitting up straight, staring into the flickering flames.
You leaned back, enjoying the comfortable silence for a moment before deciding to address the tension you had felt earlier. "So... Draco," you began, keeping your voice light. "You’ve been quiet. Something on your mind?"
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took a long breath before turning his head to look at you. His grey eyes seemed darker in the firelight, more intense.
"Just... thinking," he said simply, but his voice was heavier than you expected.
You frowned slightly, confused. "Thinking about what?"
Draco hesitated, and for a brief moment, you saw something flash across his face—something like uncertainty. But then, just as quickly as it came, it was gone, replaced by his usual composed demeanor.
"Nothing important," he finally said, looking away. "Just about the team. Flint can be... a bit much. Don’t let him get in your head."
It was a strange comment, and you couldn’t quite figure out why Draco was warning you about Flint now. He had never shown this much concern before, and it wasn’t like Marcus had done anything other than talk quidditch and make a few harmless remarks.
“I can handle Flint,” you said, offering a small smile. “I’ve dealt with worse.”
Draco’s jaw tightened slightly, but he nodded. “I know. Just... keep your guard up.”
You wanted to ask more, to pry into what was really going on behind his words, but Blaise let out a loud snore, interrupting the moment. The two of you looked over at him, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.
“I guess that’s our cue to call it a night,” you said, standing up and stretching.
Draco stood as well, glancing down at Blaise with a smirk. “Yeah. He’ll be fine on his own.”
As you turned to head toward your dorm, Draco’s voice stopped you.
“Do you like him?” he asked blankly.
You stopped alittle shooked, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I don’t see him like that.”
With that, you headed up to your dorm, your mind buzzing with thoughts of quidditch, classes, and—despite yourself—Marcus Flint. But more than anything, your mind kept circling back to Draco’s words, and the strange feeling that something had shifted between the two of you.
Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.
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