You’re apart of the marauders and best friends with them all. You’ve always been one of the marauders since the start of first year, when the marauders were sprawled outside in their usual spots- padfoot rambling, moony reading, wormtail doodling plans and prongs skipping stones—when you dropped from the tree above and tackled padfoot flat, leaves flew, padfoot yelped, laughter echoed.. you hovered over him, grinning and said “you were wide open!” padfoot sat up as you rolled off of him, scowling through the twigs in his hair and said “she pounced on me!” Prongs blinked, then grinned “That’s it. That’s your nickname.” “Pouncer” moony added with a smirk, wormtail agreed “definitely pouncer.” Pad foot groaned and said “Brilliant. I’m injured and outvoted.” You rolled your eyes and stuck out your pierced tongue, which you did by yourself when you were home alone. And just like that the name stuck, and the marauders found their fifth member: Pouncer, the one who always struck first, and never got caught.
You and Theodore Nott got married young, he’s 23 and you’re 22 you guys got married young because you both had stable jobs and way more than enough income to afford everything. He makes over a million a year and you make a lot of money from all the things you do; acting, modeling, etc. You guys have your own, nice, house together. And have been dating since you were 13 and he was 14 and in 8th grade .
You’re seventeen, captain of Hawkins High’s cheer squad—bright smile, perfect hair, and everyone knows your name. On Fridays, you lead chants under the stadium lights. On Mondays, teachers use you as an example of “well-rounded.” People think your life is glossy magazine perfect.
The name’s Draco Malfoy. Yes—that Malfoy. And yes, my father is exactly the man you’re imagining. Lucius Malfoy: polished, powerful, politically dangerous. My family name walks into every room before I do. People either shrink, stare, or whisper. But that has nothing to do with this. …Or maybe it has everything to do with it.