6| Felix Felicis

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Five years ago. . .

"You must know me. I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy."

"Yes, I actually do. You kicked me and my friend out of our compartment for no good reason," I said, looking away from the new addition to the Slytherin table.

He rolled his eyes. "She was acting like a muggle. You're not from a muggle family, are you?" His eyes widened.

"No, I'm not."

"That's a relief. I thought you were like her." He jutted his chin towards Hermione. "I heard her parents were muggles."

"Are. I'm pretty sure they're still alive."

"I don't care." I was starting to like him less and less.

I looked up to look for Hermione, only to find that her back was faced towards me.

Four years ago . . .

Our Quidditch team had found a new player. Malfoy.

And he was a seeker.

"You believe you can beat Potter?" I asked him, and he smirked. "Of course I can. What kind of a question is that?"

"Is that the new broom?" I asked, impressed.

"Yep. The Nimbus 2001." He handed it to me, and I turned over the sleek broom, admiring it from every angle. "Do you want to try it?"

I did try, only to end up falling multiple times. Malfoy laughed, reaching out a hand to pull me up. "I'll destroy Potter with this broom."

"My father always wanted a Nimbus," I said with a sigh, patting the front of the broom, "but he never tried out for Quidditch. He was always a man who put his work before anything else. Also, he knew James Potter would get the spot anyway for seeker."

Malfoy looked at me, his silver eyes confused all of a sudden. "Why would James Potter be a seeker on the Slytherin team?"

Till then, I hadn't realized just how loathsome he was. I hadn't realized how much it mattered, which was one of the reasons I hadn't mentioned it before.

"My parents were sorted into Gryffindor," I said to him with a frown. "Obviously. That's how they met."

Draco's Nimbus 2001 slid out of his gloved hand. "What?" He stood there, mouth open. I could see the wheels in his head turning. "What are you doing here then? Are you some sort of a spy? Who paid you?"

My mother always told me I was too . . . innocent. I was one to go with everything, wherever the wind pushed me. So when he called me a spy, I panicked.

"No! Never! How could you say such a thing?"

"How could you be sorted into Slytherin? Why were you hiding this for the past year?" He scowled, grabbing his broom. "Stay away from me. I'll tell you nothing." Before I could stop him, he was already marching across the field towards the rest of his team, Nimbus in hand.

I hadn't realized this piece of information was so vital. I would've hidden it if I knew it would cause my entire house to avoid me for the next three years.

"It's alright," Mother's voice said when I opened the cream envelope. "Hogwarts is a place of mystery. Worse things happen every day . . . not that what happened to you was a bad thing. They'll grow to respect you. And the Malfoy's . . . stay away from them like your father said. They're nothing but trouble."

Now.

Well, mothers are always right. It might be taken months, but she was right. Everyone forgot. Nobody cared. Worse things did happen. Voldemort appeared on the back of a teacher's head, only to have his face burned off by Harry. The Chamber of Secrets was opened and students were murdered as Voldemort tried to come back again. Potter's godfather escaped Azkaban and Hermione used a time turner to take extra classes. Harry's name was put into the goblet of fire. Voldemort finally came back. Umbridge nearly destroyed Hogwarts with her evil disguised in pink and a high-pitched voice, and Harry's godfather was killed.

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