The Triangle: The Summer

Chapter 1

Your POV
The car ride home was really awkward. You hadn't said a word since you found out you were staying with the Malfoy's. You had stared out your window, glaring angrily out at the landscape as the car rumbled along the road.

"Honey, come on- it can't be too bad. The Malfoy's are a nice family. They're rich, and they're nice to us, and they can-" Your mum began.

"I don't want to go." You cut your mother off, staring out the window. You glared at the back of her head.

"Now, Y/n, you are being irrationa-" Your father began. You turned your head to him.

How dare he say you were being irrational? Your father was a hefty man. He had short, black hair, a clean shaven face, and he always looked presentable. His standards were too high for your taste. He was a work-crazy man who used sketchy methods to get what he wanted. And you hated him. But that didn't stop you from wanting his validation.

"No I'm not! I don't want to see him!"

"Him?" Your mother asked. "Lucius? Lucius is a perfectly nice man-"

"What? No! No, I don't want to see Draco."

"Draco? Their son? Well why wouldn't you want to see him? He seems like he's got his head on straight, he's nice enough." Your mother said. You scoffed. If only she knew everything that happened at school. "You know, I think you two would make a great couple."

"No we wouldn't." You mumbled, salty. Your parents shared a look and looked back at you.

"Whatever you say." Your mom answered, sighing. You glared out the window until you pulled onto your road. You let out an angry breath.

"We are leaving tomorrow, Y/n." Your father said. He pulled into the driveway and slowed to a stop. He started to get out of the car. "You should start packing soon."

You rolled your eyes as you got out of the car. You walked around to the trunk and picked up your bags, dragging them to the front door. You would barely need to pack. You had practically everything you would need already packed.

You had a pretty nice house. It had two floors, not counting the basement. It had nice windows and your lawn was professionally done. You didn't know where your father had conjured up all this money. But knowing him, he probably conned it off an old woman or stole it from somebody.

You dropped your bags inside, leaving them by the door. Your parents followed you in and placed their bags in the living room. You put your hair up, to keep it out of your face, and considered what you would do next.

The inside of your house was quite nice, too. The living room ceiling was high, and the couches were nice. Your parents were near freaks, and didn't let you wear shoes inside, or eat in your room, and walk inside after being in the rain. Nothing you did was ever good enough.

"I'm going on a walk." You decided. You walked out of the house before your parents could criticize you and let out a relieved breath. You were out. Now you just had to find something interesting to do on your walk.

You began down your road, walking in a direction you rarely went. The wind blew into your face and messed up your hair. There was nobody around to see it, which was weird considering it was early summer and there was always little kids running along the road and middle aged parents walking their dogs.

This alone time gave you some time to dread the future. You didn't want to spend months with the Malfoy's. You missed Hermione, and Harry, and even Ron.

A field of flowers that you hadn't noticed before came into view. You had always loved flowers. Your mum used to bring them home before she became work obsessed and personality-less. You walked towards the field and kneeled down, picking up a daffodil. Those had always been your favorite.

The sky was a beautiful blue and the trees swayed in the wind, a few leaves flying off into the breeze. The smell of flowers was almost intoxicating as you sat down, admiring the daffodil in your hand.

"'Scuse me?" A voice asked from behind you, startling you.

You jumped and spun around, coming face to face with a girl with long brown hair. She looked oddly familiar... maybe she was one of your neighbors.

Speaking of neighbors, you had never had many friends in your town. You were mostly a loner until you hit 11 and got your letter to Hogwarts. Hogwarts was the place where you fit in. 

"Oh! Uh... hi?" You said.

The girl visibly relaxed.

"Sorry... I've just never really seen anyone in this field before. What's your name?" She asked, sitting next to you. You slowly put the daffodil down. She looked about your age.

"I'm Y/n Y/l/n. And you?"

The girls features brightened. "Hey! I've heard that name before." You gave her a confused look. What if she was a muggle? Did she know you were a witch? "Sorry- I'm Penelope Clearwater."

(i'm changing Penelope to be a brunette and nicer)

You knew you recognized that name, but had no idea where from. Maybe the muggle newspaper. You didn't want to bring it up, though, because it would freak her out.

"So..." You said, trying to find words. This could be your first friend back home. "What school do you go to?"

The girl struggled to find words. "Oh! Uh... just the local one, I think. What about you?"

You cleared your throat, knowing you had no answer. "Oh, same."

The girl nodded awkwardly before looking at the daffodil in your hand.

"You like daffodils? Personally I like Lavender more. Just smells nicer."

You smiled. "Yeah, I love the smell of lavender. They have it in the bathrooms at Ho- I mean, uh, my school."

The girl gave you a weird look, as if she was both examining you and considering something, before shrugging. A gust of wind blew again, messing up your hair. "Well, I'm sure my mother won't want me being out too late. I'll see you around, though? It's nice to have a friend back home."

You smiled at her and waved her goodbye. She got up and began to walk off as you turned over her words in your head. Back home? Didn't she go to the local school? Not that you knew what that was, but...

You sat in the field a little longer, thinking about Draco and Harry and Hogwarts and your parents. The sun has begun to set before you even thought about going home. You knew your parents would be worried, not that you cared. They were only ever worried about work.