The words sliced through the air. The chatter of the Slytherin table died instantly, silence spreading as everyone turned to stare. Even Crabbe and Goyle hesitated, exchanging nervous glances.
Draco blinked, taken aback by the sudden venom in Fleur's eyes. For a moment, his usual smirk faltered.
Eira gently laid a hand on Fleur's arm, her calm voice smoothing the tension. "There is no need. Draco, I will not wear that badge. Do whatever you want in your dispute with Potter, but leave me out of it. I have no interest in these childish games."
Draco straightened quickly, his pride stung. He opened his mouth to retort, but luck handed him a distraction.
At that moment, Harry Potter entered the Great Hall, walking beside Hermione. The sight lit up Draco's face with renewed mischief. He whirled around and called out loudly, his voice echoing. "Ah, the man of the hour! Our very own celebrity champion." He tapped the badge in his hand, and the words shimmered into "Potter Stinks." With exaggerated cheer, he pinned it to his own chest. "There, Potter. I am supporting you. Can you feel the love?"
Laughter rippled across several tables, especially Hufflepuff, where more students eagerly fastened the badges to their robes. Crabbe and Goyle began thrusting badges at anyone who would take them, and the hall quickly filled with the metallic gleam of the mocking pins.
Harry's jaw tightened. He strode forward, glaring at Draco. "Take it off."
"Why should I?" Draco replied smugly, tapping the badge so the words flashed again. "It is the truth."
Hermione stepped forward, her voice sharp. "It is childish, Malfoy. Grow up."
Ginny stepped forward, chin high, her words slicing clean and sharp.
"The only thing you'll ever beat Harry at is whining, Malfoy. And even then, you'd probably need your father to hold your hand."
Draco sneered, his face twisting.
"Careful, Weasley. Defending Potter this much makes it obvious—you're just drooling over him like the rest of the pathetic girls in this school."
A ripple of laughter rose from the Slytherin table, but Ginny didn't flinch. She folded her arms and shot back, her voice carrying clear across the hall.
"At least Harry doesn't have to buy friends, Malfoy. He's got people who'd stand by him because they want to — not because they're paid or terrified of his father."
The laughter turned. A few Gryffindors and even some Ravenclaws snorted, and Malfoy's pale face flushed a blotchy red
Harry opened his mouth, anger flashing in his expression, but around him many of the Gryffindor students did not move to support him. A few looked away, others shrugged as if it were not their fight. The contrast was glaring.
Draco's smirk only widened as Ginny's jab drew laughter at his expense. His voice sharpened, dripping venom.
"Big words from a little girl whose family can barely afford robes that fit. Tell me, how many hand-me-downs are you wearing right now, Weasley? Or did you borrow one of Potter's castoffs since you're so desperate to be part of his world?"
Ron shot to his feet so fast his bench screeched across the stone floor. His ears were blazing red, and he jabbed a finger at Malfoy.
"Say one more word about my family, Malfoy, and I'll—"
Draco cut him off with a lazy, cruel grin.
He stepped closer to Ron, his pale eyes narrowing. " Weasley. You used to trail after Potter like his little lackey, pretending you were useful. But now that Potter's been chosen as the champion, you are not needed anymore. He has plenty of other followers, all much more impressive and useful than you. He didn't even tell you need when he cheated his way through the Goblet of Fire. You weren't important enough to even let you tagalong with him when he was cheating. You have become nothing to Potter."
The words hit Ron like a slap. He lunged forward, fists clenched, his face set in fury. Chairs scraped as others scrambled back, sensing a fight about to break out. Draco leaned in with a mocking laugh, almost daring Ron to swing.
Ron replied as his fists clenching so tightly his knuckles shone white. "You think you can get away with insulting me and my family, Malfoy? My family may not be rich like yours, but at least we do not grovel to the Ministry or buy our way into respect."
Draco's lips curled into a cruel smirk. "Grovel? My father earns respect, Weasley. Do not mistake buying power for weakness. You and your family would crawl on your knees to survive one afternoon in my father's world. Potter may have been chosen, but I could have had him wrapped around my finger if I wanted. And you? You are invisible. Always were, always will be."
Ron lunged, but before his fist could land, a heavy, deliberate stomp echoed through the hall. Professor Moody's scarred figure loomed over the crowd, magical eye swiveling to catch every movement.
"Enough." The word cracked like a whip. His normal eye bored into Draco, and his voice dropped low, dangerous. "Careful, Malfoy. I've seen tougher men than you turned inside out for less."
The Slytherins went quiet at once. Draco's sneer faltered, though he quickly tried to recover with a scoff. Moody ignored him and turned to Harry.
"Potter. With me. Now. You're needed."
Harry cast a quick glance at Ginny and Hermione, their expressions fierce and steadfast, before turning to follow Professor Moody toward the hall's exit.
Back at the Slytherin table, Fleur calmly returned to her food, slicing into the roasted chicken that Eira had placed in front of her as if nothing had happened. Eira leaned her cheek on her hand, amusement flickering in her eyes as she watched the chaos unfold. Draco's antics were little more than theatre to her, and Fleur's icy defense had already made her day.
Fleur shrugged lightly. « Il y a vraiment beaucoup de drame ici à Poudlard. »
(There is really so much drama here at Hogwarts.)
Eira smiled, tilting her head. « Eh bien, tu sais… le garçon est célèbre, le Survivant, et partout où il passe, il y a toujours des histoires. Tu le sais bien. »
(Well, you know… the boy is famous, the Boy Who Lived, and wherever he goes, there is always drama. You know that.)
Fleur laughed softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. « Oui, tu as raison. Mais peu importe ce qui se passe, c'est tellement divertissant à regarder. »
(Yes, you are right. But no matter what happens, it is so entertaining to watch.)
Eira leaned back, a playful grin tugging at her lips. « C'est vrai. Et avec un peu de poulet et du bon vin, le spectacle devient encore meilleur. »
(It's true. And with a bit of chicken and some good wine, the show becomes even better.)