Harry Potter & the Heir of Darkness

Chapter 2

Dylan pulled back the heavy curtains surrounding her bed, and glanced around the room. 'Good, no one is here.' She slowly stood up and paced around the room, amazed at how neat the rest of the dormitory was compared to her little section.

There was no doubt in her mind that the other girls in dormitory seven realized there was an intruder in their midst. It was impossible for them not to notice. Last night, after McGonagall had walked her from her uncle’s office to her new dormitory, she had tripped over her own trunk, rummaged through her belongings to find her pajamas, and then, since she was refusing to use any form of light, began changing behind her deep red curtains, so no one would know she was there.

The result was one extremely large mess. Dylan felt sorry for the girls who had to share a room with her for the next few months. She knew she wasn’t the easiest person to live with, and growing up with her uncle, Cornelius Fudge – the Minister of Magic – only increased her inability to clean up after herself.

Dylan ran around the room quickly, gathering all her clothes and belongings and placing them neatly to one side of her bed, trying to make a good impression on her room mates. Then after getting dressed into her new school uniform, she made her way towards the Great Hall, praying she hadn’t slept through breakfast.

When she arrived in the Great Hall, McGonagall was handing out timetables to all the students already seated at Gryffindor table. Yet again, the table was laden with food; porridge, bacon and eggs, toast, juice, fruit and cereal. Everything that you could possibly dream of was here, though Dylan didn’t think she could eat anything just yet.

“Ah, miss Thompson.” McGonagall strode briskly over to her. “I trust you found everything all right.”

Dylan nodded. “Yes, thank you very much.”

McGonagall outstretched her hand, holding a piece of parchment out for Dylan. “Here’s your timetable. Your classmates will help you find your rooms and will show you around the grounds.”

“Thank you.” Dylan couldn’t think of anything else to say, and was starting to feel a little silly. “My uncle-”

“He is extremely busy, but I’m sure he’ll be interested in hearing about your first day soon enough. Don’t worry,” McGonagall’s voice took on a lighter, more caring tone for a brief minute. “MR. LONGBOTTOM!” she shouted past Dylan. She muttered as she walked off, “Excuse me.”

Dylan glanced down at her timetable. She didn’t have Potions until the afternoon, and her first class was Defence against the Dark Arts, which sounded interesting to say the least.

She proceeded to the table, and sat down beside two young boys who were staring at the other end of the table wistfully. “Hello,” Dylan muttered softly. The two boys, however, didn’t seem to hear her, preferring to chatter amongst themselves excitedly.

The boy across from her seemed to be missing an eyebrow, and the young girl next to him was covered in soot. Each seemed to look exasperatedly at the other, gritting their teeth and sipping juice while a young man, with violent blue hair, behind them was getting a rather loud talking to by McGonagall.

“What have I told you, time and again, about using your wand at the table? DO NOT USE IT OUTSIDE THE CLASSROOMS.” McGonagall, while her voice remained quite silent, seemed to stress everyone word accordingly. “There is no need, unless it’s an emergency, Longbottom.”

“But miss… I…” the boy mumbled. “Trevor was getting away again.”

McGonagall let out a sigh. “Very well, but next time aim. Now, head to the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey will most likely be expecting you.” She glanced at the two teenagers across from Dylan. “I suggest you go with him, Mr. Finnigan. Perhaps we can get you a new eyebrow before class.”

Dylan watched as the two boys followed behind her, trailing their feet, the taller of the two, trying desperately to hide his missing eyebrow from the other students. Dylan sighed and glanced down to see a toad hopping around in the space where the blue-haired boy had been only a few moments ago.

“Don’t mind him. That’s Trevor, Neville’s toad.” Dylan’s head shot up as a soft voice spoke to her. “I’m Ginny, by the way, Ginny Weasley.”

Dylan studied the girl in front of her. Despite the soot on her face she was a pretty girl. Ginny had shoulder-length red hair, hazel eyes and her creamy skin was dotted with millions of freckles. “Dylan, Dylan Thompson,” she muttered.

As Dylan took the girl’s hand she couldn’t help but smile. Perhaps this was the beginning of a long friendship; perhaps she was one of her room mates. “I haven’t seen you around before, are you a first year?” Ginny asked skeptically.

“A first year? Erm… not exactly.” Dylan paused as she quickly checked no one else was listening in. “This is my first year, but I’m going on eighteen, so I guess that makes me seventh year.”

“You’re a late bloomer.” Ginny laughed. “You are from around here, aren’t you?”

“Originally. I have been in France for a few years though. Six years to be exact.” Dylan glanced around yet again. “I wanted to be closer to my family though; Beauxbaton’s is so… how would you say it… snooty.”

Ginny chuckled. “You can say that again. My brother is marrying one. Don’t get me wrong, she’s lovely, but… she can be a little full-on sometimes.” Ginny poured herself some juice. “So, you are a seventh year, did you say?”

“Yes. It’s really strange, I feel like a first year. Maybe I should appeal to Dumbledore to start from the beginning. Then at least I’d know some people. This is all so strange to me, I don’t know anyone, or where anything is.” Dylan muttered.

“Trust me. Most people here are really nice, Gryffindor’s are really friendly. We all look out for one another. I’ll introduce you to some people, that is, if you would like me to. You’ll know heaps of people after I’m through with you, and that will be before breakfast has even finished.” Ginny stood up and motioned for Dylan to follow her.

Dylan slowly stood and watched Ginny race towards the end of table. Ginny seemed to know quite a few people, because as soon as she tapped one on the shoulder they were all talking excitedly to her. For a few moments, Dylan considered sitting down and forgetting the whole thing. However, as soon as she moved to sit, Ginny’s head popped back up and she waved for her to come over.

Ginny muttered something to the others, and their heads turned in Dylan’s direction. “Hurry up, Dylan!” Ginny called happily. “Come on, they’re waiting.”

Dylan shook her head slowly, knowing there was no way out now. She slowly walked over to where Ginny was huddled over with several much older looking teenagers. “Dylan, this is my brother and his friends.”

“Hi, I’m Ron Weasley.” The boy sitting closest to Ginny stood slowly with his hand outstretched. He looked exactly like Ginny, except he had shorter hair and stood several inches taller.

The girl sitting next to him, glared at him for a second before introducing herself. “Hermione Granger, Head Girl.” She tapped her badge just in case Dylan missed it. Her bushy brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her face was free of make-up. While Dylan didn’t like to label people, she couldn’t help but think Teacher’s pet.

“Harry Potter?” The young boy Dylan had been sitting next to minutes before had walked up to the final boy. “Could we get another picture? We miscounted last time, and our aunt would like one.”

Dylan stared at the final boy as he was unhappily posing for the photo. He had shaggy black hair, green eyes, wore glasses and was average height and build. Dylan couldn’t tell from where she was standing but she could have sworn for a second the boy had the scar.

“You’re Harry Potter?” Dylan asked disbelievingly. “No, you can’t be. You are much too young.”

The boy turned back to the table, grinning, as the camera boy walked off. “Thank you, but unfortunately…” He raised his hand slowly and brushed his fringe away so Dylan could see his scar.

“Holy shit!” Dylan thought, clapping a hand to her mouth when she realized she had spoken the words aloud. Harry laughed as her face started to burn. “I can’t believe I just said that,” she muttered.

“Well I must admit that’s one of the better reactions I’ve had.” Harry held out his hand. “Allow me to introduce myself properly. I’m Harry Potter, nice to meet you.”

“Harry Potter… wow!” she whispered. “Um… what classes have you got next?”

“Defence against the Dark Arts, just like every other seventh year. Then Divination, Transfiguration and finally Potions.” Ron groaned. “Why do we always get stuck with McGonagall? I mean, don’t get me wrong, she’s better than Snape, but I don’t want to have her and Snape first day back.”

“Ron! She’s not bad at all!” Ginny uttered, exchanging dark looks with Hermione.

“I know, I know. It’s just so hard and boring, and she’s so strict.” Ron poured himself some juice and drained the glass seconds later. “Well Dylan, it’s off to defense, prepare to be challenged. See you later, Gin.” Ron stood up and the others followed. “I hope we have someone good this year. The last few have been real duds.”

Dylan walked behind them, trying to memorize all the corridors to their class. She listened to the conversation intently and soon enough gave up trying to remember the turns.

“RON!” Hermione shrieked. “They were not all bad.”

“Hermione,” Harry muttered. “Let’s just recall them all shall we? Quirrel was Voldemort’s personal transportation system. Lockhart was a complete phony.”

“Moody wasn’t even the real Moody…” Ron began.

“He was still okay. Granted he was a crazed lunatic, but he taught us some interesting things,” Hermione said pointedly.

“Fine, Moody was good, deranged but good. Umbridge was a nightmare and was there to give us theory work all the time. She wasn’t even a real professor.” Ron turned down yet another corridor and Dylan was thankful someone knew where they were going. She could barely remember her way to the Common room.

“The only real professor we’ve had was Lupin. Now there was a class. I learnt more in that year than the other years combined,” Ron came to a halt outside a classroom door.

Many other students were waiting in the corridors as well. Dylan couldn’t believe there were so many people in the class. “Is this a popular subject?” she whispered to Harry.

“That’s one way to put it. It’s useful and occasionally it can be exciting, I suppose it depends on the professor and the topics they choose to teach.” Harry shrugged. “Like Ron said, we’ve had a few terrible years, and a few good ones.”

“Can you guys tell me what you’ve learnt in this class?” Dylan asked softly. “I don’t think we had this sort of class at Beauxbaton’s.”

“Well, one year we learnt to disarm an opponent,” Ron grinned broadly. “Remember Snape and Lockhart! His expression was priceless…”

“What else?” Dylan asked curiously. “What else did you learn?”

“That was it for that year.” Harry shook his head exasperatedly. “What a waste of a year.”

“That was it?” Dylan asked, disbelief flitting across her face. “You guys must have been really bad at it, or slow.”

“Not us. Lockhart, he was a complete fraud, poor guy ended up losing his memories.” Ron shot a grin at Harry who beamed back. “It was such a tragic loss.”

“Ok. So what else have you learnt?” Dylan was getting lost. “What about the theory? You would have learnt heaps that year.”

“You would think that,” Hermione piped up. “It was all a bunch of bull. Just long lists about how inferior half breeds are, and how great the Ministry is. Let’s not forget the massive list of decrees we had to memorize.” Hermione groaned. “Never again, I tell you.”

“What happened there?” Dylan wondered aloud.

Ron laughed. “She got into a spot of trouble. Some half breeds didn’t appreciate being called inferior, so they took matters into their own hands.” He paused for a moment. “Come to think of it, I think she went crazy after that. Poor thing, she was such a nice lady. Wouldn’t you agree, Harry?”

Harry gritted his teeth. “Yeah she was really nice.” He rubbed his hand absently.
“Did anything else exciting happen?” Dylan’s curiosity got the better of her. Maybe this class won’t be boring. She sighed thankfully.

“We’ve learnt about the ‘Unforgivables’ and we have a rather vast knowledge of dangerous creatures. We all fought a Boggart in third year. I miss Lupin actually, we should write him sometime.” Ron smiled at Dylan. “Our very own Harry can produce a real Patronus. It’s very thrilling. He tried teaching us in fifth year, but the class got interrupted and I don’t think we ever really finished it.”

Dylan stared at Harry. “You can conjure a Patronus? How old are you?”

“I’ve just turned seventeen. I learnt it from Professor Lupin in third year; it was very good back then.” Harry shifted under Dylan’s intent gaze. “I haven’t really had much practice with it though, no need to. You know how it is.”

Dylan could only shake her head in amazement. “I can’t believe it. No wonder everyone loves you.”

“Excuse me. I think that’s a rather broad generalization.” As a deep drawl reached her ears Dylan spun around. The overly arrogant, pale, blonde boy stood there staring at Harry. “I really don’t think everyone loves him. I sure as hell don’t.”

Before Dylan could make a witty comeback Ron and Harry pulled out their wands and jumped in front of her. “Well I must admit Malfoy, knowing you don’t love me does make me feel so much better. I would hate to have to kick a pansy’s ass.” Harry glared at the boy as his two boulder-like cronies appeared.

“Harry, put away your wand. Ron, you put yours away too.” Hermione piped up from behind them. Dylan could almost feel Hermione tapping on her badge. “If you don’t, I will have to take points away.”

“That’s right, Potter, do as your girlfriend tells you to. Besides, I don’t think it’s wise to draw a wand at the Head Boy. So, twenty points deducted from Gryffindor.” Malfoy smirked at the shocked looks on their faces. “You don’t believe me?” Malfoy moved his black cloak to the side, revealing a large gold badge with the words Head Boy engraved in bold letters on it.

Ron dropped his wand unhurriedly, and watched on as Harry decided against hexing him. Malfoy grinned. “Good boys.” He paused for a moment, obviously enjoying their torture. “I really think you should apologize, you may have hurt my feelings.”

“You don’t have feelings, Malfoy,” Harry muttered darkly under his breath.

“Tut-tut. I heard that Potter, I really don’t appreciate being bullied like that.” Malfoy grinned happily. “I think another twenty points from Gryffindor will teach you some manners. Now apologize please.”

Ron looked as if he’d rather bite off his own tongue rather than apologize, but seeing no other way out without losing more points, he swallowed his pride. “Malfoy, I’m sorry for drawing my wand on you. It was irresponsible, and could have proved dangerous.”

Malfoy laughed cruelly. “That was pretty good, Weasley. Now it’s your turn, Potter.”

Harry glared. If looks could kill, Dylan thought. “Sod off Malfoy!” he spat angrily.

“Why you little-”

Hermione drew her wand. “That’s enough Malfoy. Head Boy or not, let’s not have all the power run to our heads. Or I’ll be forced to take points away from you.”

Everyone in the corridors stared at Hermione. “Blimey.” Ron muttered disbelievingly as he turned to look at her. “I’m glad she’s on our side,” he whispered to Harry, who nodded his agreement.

“Fine,” Malfoy spat angrily. “I’m warning you now, Potter, another outbreak like that one, and I will take points away. A substantial amount of points,” Malfoy glared at the trio once more, pausing only for a second on Harry, before striding down the hallway to stand with some fellow Slytherins.

“Who was that?” Dylan asked heatedly.

Hermione whirled around and stared at Dylan. “That was Draco Malfoy, the infamous egotistical son of Lucius Malfoy whom works at the Ministry. The whole Malfoy family is filthy rich, and has enough friends in high places to buy themselves out of trouble whenever they need it.”

Ron laughed. “Believe me, they need it. The whole family is trouble. Lucius Malfoy was a big supporter of You-Know-Who. He’s really into all the dark magic. I guess some of it wiped off onto poor Dracky-kins over there.” Ron stared at Dylan for a moment. “You have never heard of the Malfoy family?”

Dylan shifted uncomfortably. “Well…not exactly. I have heard of them, but I’ve only ever heard good things about them.”

Harry snorted. “Good things? You’ve only heard good things about the Malfoy family? Who’s told you this?” He stared at her with amusement. “Don’t tell me you’re a big supporter of Voldemort as well? That would be the only way-”

“Harry!” Ron hissed. “Don’t say his name!”

“Shut up, Ron.” Hermione continued, “Harry, do you really think Dylan is in with him? She really doesn’t look the type.” Hermione glanced over Dylan for a split second. “Perhaps she’s been reading all the bull Cornelius Fudge has put out about them recently.”

“Well, actually-” Dylan began.

“Yeah, that would be it. ‘For their generous donation to St. Mungo’s hospital today, it is my great pleasure to promote Lucius Malfoy to the very pristine new role of Deputy Minister for Magic’.” Ron snorted. “The day that happens is the day we’ll all have to go into hiding, Harry especially.”

“They think they’re so good just because they’re pureblood. I don’t see what difference it makes. Hermione’s the top of the year, and she’s Muggle born. Ron’s pureblood and I’m… well I’m complicated.” Harry looked at Dylan for a moment before continuing. “My mother was Muggle born, but my father was pureblood, so while I have a witch and a wizard for parents, I’m still half-blood, not too mention I was raised by my Muggle aunt and uncle.”

Ron chuckled. “They really have it in for you, mate. Anything unusual happen this holidays? Did they try poisoning you? Perhaps they locked you in your room again?”

“Surprisingly, nothing strange happened this time. While they didn’t remember my birthday, they kept to themselves mostly, and I did the same. Meal times were rather amusing. Dudley has grown to new heights, or maybe I should say lengths?” Harry grinned at Dylan, who was beginning to feel rather confused. “Dudley is my cousin, and he’s a right royal pain, thankfully he doesn’t come here. He goes to the pristine Smeltings Academy. Let’s just say he’s a growing boy who needs all the nourishment he can get.”

Dylan frowned. “I still don’t understand. He’s malnourished? That’s nothing to joke about.”

Hermione smiled. “It’s quite the opposite. The Dursley’s, Harry’s aunt and uncle, have tried for the past few years to keep Dudley on a diet. Both are a little negligent when it comes to keeping him to it though. Dudley sneaks donuts and chocolates into his room all the time, or if that doesn’t work, he goes out with his friends and buys whatever he can get his hands on.” Hermione shook her head. “The poor boy should really take it seriously, he could get really sick if he continues eating the way he does.”

Dylan looked up and down the corridor again. There was still no sign of their teacher, and class should have started five minutes ago. “Do classes here normally not run on time?” she asked politely.

Harry looked down at his watch. “Huh, this could be a great term. We’ve already missed out on five minutes. I hope we’re at the right classroom.”

“Professor Boller is probably just running a little late, we are his first class after all. Perhaps he’s forgotten his notes or something.” Hermione glanced up and down the corridors as well.

“Maybe the staircase got him.” Ron grinned. “That would be a shame. We might as well get comfortable. He may be there for a while.” Ron sat down on the cold floor of the hallway, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Well? Aren’t you going to do the same?”

Harry dropped down onto the floor as well, his head resting against the stone wall. “I hope I don’t have to sit like this for too long. It’s not very comfortable.”

Dylan glanced at the two boys, they were so different yet they still remained friends. Ron, like Harry mentioned, was pureblooded yet he was still hanging around with Harry and Hermione. Ron was so tall and gangly, occasionally he could be a little whiney, but he was a nice guy. I suppose he’s a new-age pureblood. Hangs around with Muggles and Muggle-borns and doesn’t think twice about it.

Harry Potter, she could understand Ron hanging around with him. The famous Harry Potter, a true pureblood would jump at the chance to be seen with Harry. Harry was a strange one though; his uncle and aunt locked him in his room, his parents died when he was a baby. Everyone knows that story. Yet he was still a normal teenage boy, as normal as you can get anyway.

Dylan was surprised the fame hadn’t gone to his head, he was still down-to-earth, caring and didn’t mind stopping to talk to people. He looked far too thin for his age, but stood taller than most students at the school. Whether he’d grown accustomed to the stares and whispers as he walked around the school was another story though. It wasn’t hard to miss a boy with black shaggy hair, round glasses and a lightning-bolt shaped scar.

Dylan’s gaze wandered down the corridor to where Draco Malfoy was leaning indifferently against the wall. Here was another student who wouldn’t be hard to find in a crowd. Other than the platinum blonde hair, and pale skin, he emanated such a feeling of confidence and power that you’d have to be dead not to notice it. His face was shielded and even as he said something funny he never once broke into a smile.

He was tall, Harry’s height or thereabouts, yet he wasn’t gangly or thin like the other two boys. He seemed content to hang around two rather unintelligent looking boulders, and a girl with a rather squashed looking face. Perhaps a girlfriend…

Dylan returned her gaze to Draco Malfoy. He smirked for some reason, perhaps a crude comment had been made, yet he still kept his face drawn. There was no embarrassment on his face, no pleasure, no happiness. Purebloods were a strange breed.

She continued to stare at him, unaware that his eyes had slowly made his way to her face. When their eyes locked she was suddenly brought back to reality with a small gasp. Without a moment’s hesitation she turned her gaze back to Harry and Ron, ignoring the thoughts racing through her mind begging her to look back at him.

~~~~~~~~

Draco couldn’t believe his luck so far this morning. First up, Neville Longbottom had provided some light entertainment as he tried to keep his toad from leaving the Great Hall, resulting in a nice hair change. Then Pansy hadn’t been able to find a seat next to him at the breakfast table, so she had settled for sitting next to Goyle, who had kept her entertained all morning.

His morning seemed to turn for the worst as he looked at his timetable, his first class of the year was Defence against the Dark Arts, and unfortunately that meant Harry Potter would be in his class yet again. Yet his luck seemed to jump straight back into his pocket, as he scanned the crowd for the perfect trio, his eyes fell on a blonde whom he didn’t seem to recognize. That is until she stood up from the breakfast table and made her way towards the youngest of the Weasley clan.

The girl from the staff table last night was making her way along the Gryffindor table towards not only Ginny Weasley, but Harry, Ron and Hermione, the do-gooders trio of Hogwarts. Draco wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or irritated, of course a new student placed in Gryffindor would become friends of Harry Potter, but she wasn’t a student was she? Definitely not a first year at least, she didn’t look eleven.

He watched her walk across the room, her hair swaying behind her, her hips swinging from side to side softly. She stood next to the trio, and they all introduced themselves. That annoying Creevey and his brother galloped over to take yet another picture of Harry, before running off whispering excitedly.

The girl stared at Harry, putting a hand to her mouth as her face turned pink. Something obviously amused the trio because they were laughing rather hard. Then, after a few minutes of conversation they all left, heading towards their first class. Draco wasn’t in a hurry, there was no need. Professor Boller hadn’t turned up for breakfast yet, and if he wasn’t here, then he certainly wouldn’t be at the classroom yet.

Pansy must have said something funny to Goyle, because he was chuckling stupidly beside Draco while Pansy’s shrill giggle sounded along. Draco decided to leave early; perhaps he could meet up with the girl and just watch her for a little bit. “Excuse me,” he muttered to the others. There was no need to excuse himself from the table, but it had been drilled into him since he was old enough to talk, and he barely thought about it now.

Draco began the long journey to the Defence classroom on the third floor. While he knew every corridor, stairwell and classroom in this school there was always something stopping him from using his shortcuts. Today, it was Peeves, the school’s poltergeist.

Peeves was flying around a chandelier pelting anyone who passed with torches from the entrance hall. While Draco enjoyed watching everyone else’s discomfort, Peeves would at some point decide to throw them at Draco, so instead of hanging around Draco changed his course and decided to take the long way.

Three staircases later, he still wasn’t at the classroom. “Why do they make these things so annoying?” he wondered angrily. If you were climbing one set of stairs and they decided to move your best chance of getting to your destination quickly was to continue along wherever they dropped you off, and try to get another staircase to the corridor.

Unfortunately, all the staircases he caught seemed happy to drop him off further away from the corridor than the last. “If this next one doesn’t get me there,” he mumbled sullenly. “I’ll just have to start from the Great Hall again.”

As Draco stepped onto the marble staircase, he grabbed hold of the banister and thought hard about where he wanted to go. Thankfully, the staircase took him to the third floor and he ran as fast as he could to the corridor.

“No wonder everyone loves you.” Draco heard an unfamiliar voice say. He walked around the corner slowly, and sure enough there was the blonde girl gushing over Harry Potter.

“Excuse me. I think that’s a rather broad generalization.” Draco watched as the girl spun around in surprise.

She opened her mouth to say something, but Potter and Weasley jumped in front of her, wands drawn, ready for a fight. Draco had no choice but to stare at them instead. He could just see the know-it-all’s face fighting over what to do. As Head Girl, she wasn’t allowed to stand by and watch as a fight broke out, nor could she join in. However, being in Gryffindor she didn’t want to take points off her best friends either.

Draco couldn’t help but smile inwardly; they didn’t know he was Head Boy yet. He moved his black cloak to one side, as the gold badge was revealed Potter’s face dropped almost as quickly as Weasley’s mouth.

Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy had walked up behind him only minutes before hand, and hadn’t said a word as of yet. He could feel their eyes on his back. “Twenty points from Gryffindor.” The words rolled off his tongue so easily, he could have said that for the rest of his life.

Potter’s face was livid. Draco had never seen him so angry. “Sod off Malfoy!”

Before Draco could say anything, Hermione began yelling at him, a Malfoy. 'Who does she think she is?' Everybody in the corridor had turned to watch them, Head Boy, Head Girl and the famous Harry Potter. Unfortunately, the one person he wanted to look at him didn’t bother to turn a hair. The blonde girl was quite content to stare at Harry Potter with big hungry eyes.

Malfoy couldn’t stand to look at them any longer, instead he said something threatening to Potter, and then walked down the corridor as far away as possible with Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy in tow.

“The nerve of those three, I don’t blame you for taking points of them. If it were me, I would’ve taken sixty points each off Gryffindor. Draco? Are you all right, darling?” Pansy’s shrill voice asked him.

Draco knew better than to ignore her, everybody in Slytherin knew better than that. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m still annoyed at the arrogance of Potter,” Draco leant against the stone wall. “I should have taken more points off, but I thought it would be nice to start small.”

Goyle looked at Pansy for a moment. “Draco?” he mumbled. “What took you so long to get here? We left maybe ten minutes after you, but arrived only seconds after.”

“Peeves was harassing several first years, I thought it would be nice to join in… and take points away for their screams.” Draco sighed; I’m not going to tell them why.

Crabbe and Goyle guffawed as Pansy shrieked with laughter. “I knew you’d make a great Head Boy,” she said happily.

Draco rolled his eyes as they began talking and laughing again. His eyes strolled towards the classroom door; their class still hadn’t been let in. Many students had seated themselves on the floor and were talking about their holidays. Draco’s gaze, against his will, had found the blonde girl once again. She was staring at a seated Potter, and was listening intently to whatever they were talking about.

He still had no idea who she was, and had only a basic idea of what she looked like. While he knew she had long straight blonde hair, had pale skin, and stood about his shoulder height, he really knew nothing else about her, like her name for example. Perhaps when the professor took attendance later he’d recognize all but one name, and that would be hers.

He still hadn’t seen what color her eyes were, and he’d only been standing only a few inches away from her. He tried to piece together what she could look like. Her face swam into view; her pale skin was the first thing to surface, then her blonde hair. Draco tried to find the perfect nose for her, but every one didn’t seem to quite fit. It really was hopeless; he needed to see what she looked like before he tried to copy it.

“I bet Weasley comes out this year. Weasley and Potter have always been so close.” Pansy laughed, the comment caused Draco to smirk.

At that moment he could feel someone watching him. The hairs on the back of his neck began to tingle, and there was a burning sensation on his face. Whoever was looking at him was doing so rather intently. Draco tried to determine where the onlooker was standing, but had no luck. He glanced around him unable to see anyone staring at him, until he noticed the blonde’s face turned in his direction.

She seemed to be looking over him, but before he could check her eye color, she noticed him gazing at her as intently as she was, and quickly turned her head away. “Damn,” Draco muttered.

“Is something wrong, Draco?” Pansy asked once again.

The classroom door opened slowly, revealing a dark space with only a single light coming from the middle of the room.

He shook his head. “It’s nothing, Pansy. Mind your own business.” Draco sauntered over to the door and was one of the first people in the room.

“Good morning. My name is Professor Travien Boller. Welcome to Defence against the Dark Arts.” A shadow emerged from the back of the room, revealing the newest staff member. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”