The Death and Resurrection of Lilly Belafonte

Draco Malfoy had been having an awful day. He had overslept for his shopping excursion to Diagon Alley, which meant that his father was annoyed and he had to forgo his leisurely morning shower. Breakfast had been dratted pancakes, which he hated, and pumpkin juice, which didn’t complement the meal at all. Furthermore, his father had spent most of the day lecturing him about what sort of behavior would be acceptable at Hogwarts, and what would be intolerable. It was annoying because Draco had heard it all so many times before.

And now the aggravating witch who was measuring him for his school robes kept pricking him with the pins. He found himself wondering whether or not his father would bail him out of trouble if he turned the witch’s head into a watermelon.

Draco glanced up, and noticed a slender boy with messy brown hair walking cautiously towards the back of the shop. He didn’t really seem like the kind of person he would normally talk to, but he was ever so bored, and this unkempt boy was leagues better than the ignorant seamstress.

“Hello. Hogwarts, too?” Draco questioned.

“Yes,” the boy replied simply. Draco was a little annoyed that the boy did not elaborate, but he seemed a bit shy.

“My father’s next door buying my books and mother’s up the street looking at wands. Then I’m going to drag them off to look at racing brooms.” Draco couldn’t suppress the eagerness in his voice. “I don’t see why first years can’t have their own. I think I’ll bully father into getting me one and I’ll smuggle it in somehow.” He was lying, of course; Draco knew that bullying was an idiotic tactic to use with his father.

The boy was still just standing there, looking a little grim, and Draco was growing tired of having to carry on the conversation by himself.

“Have you got your own broom?” he questioned, hoping to finally spark a reply.

“No,” the boy said shortly.

“Play Quidditch at all?” Draco questioned hopefully. With that slight, wiry build, this kid would probably be a good seeker.

“No.”

“I do,” Draco continued, his chest swelling with pride. “Father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree.” He was lying again. His father had only nodded at him once with approval when he was practicing, but Draco knew others wouldn’t understand what a big compliment that actually was. “Know what house you’ll be in yet?”

“No,” the boy replied, confusion creeping into his voice. Draco was growing slightly annoyed by this kid’s all-around ignorance.

“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been—imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”

“Mmm.”

Draco was perplexed, and tired of being an unsuccessful conversationalist. He quickly remembered advice his mother, an amazing hostess, had once given him; try to unite with the other person against a common enemy, whether it’s the weather, the Ministry, or a hated Quidditch player. That will help forge a camaraderie.

“I say, look at that man!” Draco commanded, hoping this would work.

“That’s Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts.”

Well, it seemed to be working so far… that was the longest sentence anyone had yet gotten out of him.

“Oh, I’ve heard of him. He’s a sort of servant, isn’t he?” Now the boy will laugh or shake his head disapprovingly, or something, Draco thought.

“He’s the gamekeeper,” the boy remarked crisply, and Draco was a little taken aback. Something was going wrong.

“Yes, exactly. I heard he’s a sort of savage—lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed.” There. He had given several reasons why this boy should dislike him.

“I think he’s brilliant,” the boy said coldly.

Alright, that’s about enough of this. “Do you?” said Draco, with an arrogant sneer. If this dunderhead can’t hold a proper conversation, he can just sod off. “Why is he with you? Where are your parents?” Draco questioned, hoping it sounded enough like the dismissal it was.

“They’re dead,” the boy snapped. Draco was a little abashed, but still annoyed.

“Oh, sorry. But they were our kind, weren’t they?” Maybe this ignorant boy was muggleborn; that would explain a bit.

“They were a witch and a wizard, if that’s what you mean.” Wow, that was practically a paragraph, Draco thought.

“I really don’t think they should let the other sort in, do you? They’re just not the same, they’ve never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine.” Maybe the boy at least had a negative opinion of halfbloods, but Draco was beginning to doubt it. “I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What’s your surname, anyway?”

But the boy was done being measured, and walked off without even a farewell. Arrogant bastard, Draco thought.

Lilly had been in the shop the entire time, only a few feet away. She had watched the blonde boy enter the shop, and had been captivated by his confidence. Everywhere he walked he seemed to own. She had been browsing sheepishly, trying to plan out what she would say when she ventured up to talk with him, when he began the conversation with the quiet boy. With one part of her mind absentmindedly calculating how much of Dumbledore’s gift of galleons she could afford to spend on robes, the other half of her mind was analyzing the conversation so that she could turn this aristocratic blonde boy into an ally. Merlin knows I’ll need some, she thought, proud of having already picked up a bit of wizarding lingo.

She found her chance when she was paying for her selections. The boy was busy charging his new robes to his father’s account, and happened to be standing only a few feet away from her.

“Hello,” Lilly offered when he turned to go. The boy looked at her, surprised.

“Hello,” he replied, clearly perplexed. He was trying to remember if they’d met before; she didn’t seem like the kind of girl he would forget, but nevertheless, there was something familiar about her.

“My name is Lilly Andersen,” she offered, lowering her head demurely and dropping a small curtsy.

“I’m Draco Malfoy.” He bowed automatically, though he was a bit taken aback by her formality.

“It’s a pleasure to meet another pureblood,” Lilly said haughtily as she stood up again. Draco grinned at her.

“Did you hear all that?” he questioned, assuming she must have heard at least part of his conversation with the quiet boy.

“Some,” she replied, with a toss of her head. “Actually… I was wondering if you might direct me to a good broom shop. My old one… er… broke. Right. And I need a new one.”

“I’m on my way there now. I’m sure father would not mind if you joined us,” Draco quickly offered as they left the shop.

“That took longer than I would have expected,” a deep, elegant voice remarked. Lilly and Draco both turned.

“Yes, Father, they were incompetent.” Lilly noticed that Draco had lost a good deal of his arrogance, though his words belied it.

“And who is your little friend, Draco?” the man questioned, turning towards Lilly with a hint of a smile on his handsome features.

“I am Lilly Andersen,” she repeated, this time dropping into a much grander curtsy. Lucius cocked an eyebrow, amused.

“I am Lucius, High Seat of House Malfoy. It is a pleasure, Miss Andersen,” he murmured, and, to her astonishment, gently captured her hand, touching his lips to it lightly. Lilly’s eyes locked on his face, bent over her fingers, and he caught her staring when he cut his eyes up audaciously. She blushed crimson, unsure why she was so embarrassed, and lowered her gaze defensively.

“Are you a student at Hogwarts?’ Lucius questioned.

“Yes, my Lord. Or rather, I’ll be a first year in a few days,” she replied, a little breathlessly.

“And what house do you hope to be in, Miss Andersen? Have you thought on it?” he questioned further.

A bright smile lit Lilly’s face. “Why, I just know I’ll be in Slytherin. Where else could I possibly want to be?”

Lucius smiled. Draco smiled. Lilly, on the inside, was laughing at both of them. She smiled.

A/N

Well, Francy, I hadn’t been going to even bring Lucius in for a few more chapters, but I introduced them early, just for you.

Please review, people! I’ll give you a cookie… several, even. ;-)