Harry Potter One Shots

Seven Years: Years 1 - 3 (Harry Potter)

A/N: Hello readers! Thank you again to everyone who has voted or commented. It really helps me to write when I know it's being enjoyed! I hope you and your families are all staying safe and healthy during this COVID-19 pandemic. My thoughts go out to all of you—especially those who are immune-compromised or know someone who is.

This was requested by _stellastyless and I hope you don't mind the changes I've made to your suggestion. I wasn't sure if you guys would want an OC, so I stuck to (Y/N) but gave you a last name to help the storyline come together as requested. Please let me know if you have a preference for the (Y/N) or OC storyline/POV.

This is definitely a much longer work, so feedback would be appreciated on whether this is too long or just right! Thank you!

First Year

The cabin was large and warm as I reentered, vibrating gently as the Hogwarts Express rumbled along the tracks. Adjusting my robes, I made my way towards the large, rectangular window, peering out across the countryside. The hills were green, open, and wild—nothing like the ostentatious gardens I had roamed as a child. No, it was nothing at all like the dark, cruel Lestrange Manor I had been forced to call home. The gardens there never made my heart sing in my chest, never made me want to run, to fly. For a few second, I allowed myself pretend that it could be mine.

With a resounding bang, the cabin door slid open behind me, jarring me from my stupor. I turned guiltily, though I knew I'd done nothing wrong. "Draco," I sighed pushing off from the window's ledge. My cousin—arrogant as ever—stood leaning against the doorway, preening in his new school robes.

"What do you think?" he asked, sauntering into the room.

"Dashing," I replied, rolling my eyes. He pouted. "You look...expensive?" I offered half-heartedly.

He grinned. "As do you, cousin dearest. Now let me fix your tie." I scowled, wanting to bat away his hands, but allowed him to fix the strips of fabric hanging near my throat. I'd never quite gotten the hang of it, not that I'd had the chance—mother always put me in dresses anyway. Draco stepped back, admiring his handiwork. "Did you hear the rumors? According to Parkinson, Harry Potter's on the train."

"Harry Potter?" I scoffed, using the window's reflection to fix my hair. "You must be joking."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!" Draco stomped his foot angrily, much like a petulant child who'd just been denied ice cream. "Go see for yourself if you don't believe me. He's in the back of the train, I hear, sitting with a Weasley." He grimaced, as though throughly disturbed.

I wrinkled my nose in agreement. I wasn't quite sure why we didn't like the Weasleys, but mother and father said we were not to associate with them at all. Called them blood traitors or something, as though it were a disease one could catch if you stood too close. And truly, I was in no mood to get sick—not with it being my first year and all. Regardless, I trusted Draco and if he didn't like them, then neither did I.

"Fine, I'll go have a peak. Care to join?" I extended my hand but Draco settled farther into the cushions and shook his head. I rolled my eyes. "Have it your way then. Tell Pansy where I've gone, will you? She's been primping herself in the loo for over an hour. And stop leading her on please, Draco. It's not nice." He simply shrugged, waving me out the door.