Slytherin Princess | ✓

seven

Granger and Kemper looked completely lost without their two friends who never showed up to the train to get to Hogwarts.

"Maybe it'll be a quiet year," Draco said hopefully.

"I doubt it," I scoffed, taking my seat next to Pansy, "they probably want to make a grand entrance for the start-of-term feast."

But I was wrong, they never showed to dinner. Though they did show up for breakfast the next day and, after lunch, I got to witness something absolutely annoying. This tiny little first year Gryffindor continued to take multiple photos of Harry Potter.

"—odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it'd be really good if I had one of you" — the small boy looked imploringly at Harry — "maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"

"Signed photos?" I said, pushing through the crowd of Gryffindors with Draco as Crabbe and Goyle followed him. "You're really giving out signed photos, Harry Potter?"

I stopped directly behind the little Gryffindor, standing a few inches taller than me. He looked petrified although I was barely taller than him.

"Everyone line up!" Draco added to the crowd. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

"No, I'm not," said Harry angrily, his fists clenching. "Shut up, Malfoy."

"You both're just jealous," the kid with the camera piped up, whose entire body was about as thick as Crabbe's neck.

"Jealous?" I said softly from behind the kid. He jumped at my sneering voice, thick with disbelief and disgust. "Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself."

Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle were sniggering at my comment making me smirk.

"Eat slugs, Ward," said Weasley angrily. The three boys stopped laughing and I heard one of the two goons crack his knuckles in a menacing way.

"Be careful, Weasley," sneered Draco. "You don't want to start any trouble or your Mummy'll have to come and take you away from school." He put on a shrill, piercing voice. "'If you put another toe out of line' —"

A knot of Slytherin fifth-years nearby laughed loudly at Draco's reference to a Howler Weasley had gotten during breakfast.

"Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter," Draco smirked. "It'd be worth more than his family's whole house —"

Weasley whipped out his Spellotaped wand as I took out mine. Granger stood up and quickly whispered, "Look out!" for Weasley to put his wand away.

Professor Lockhart, another bafoon of a professor that loves Harry and his friends, saved Weasley from getting hexed into oblivion and pulled Harry away talking about being humble with his fame.

"Shows over," I snapped, turning on my heels and marching out of the courtyard towards Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

The next few days were alright besides the little Gryffindor, whose name was Colin Creevey, coming to take pictures of everything and asking everyone questions about Harry bleeding Potter. But Draco seemed particularly happy with Quidditch practise that would be happening on Saturday afternoon.

"Lady, come on," Draco said excitedly. "You have to come with me to practice today, even just to watch. You need to be Potter's face when Wood sees the slip Snape wrote up."