I walked to the door, and Mother looked at me sternly and asked “Where’s Draco?” She looked worried. I hated when she looked like that. I sometimes wonder if she really wanted this life; a life of stress and hiding away lies that aren’t even yours.


“I don’t know, but when Father told me to find you, he was still in his r-”


“I’m here. Let’s go.” Draco interrupted, his hair slicked back and a black suit on. Ugh, his hair. Makes him look so silly, like a little kid hiding behind a mask.

    “A Malfoy?” He spat, looking at me with so much hatred I felt my eyes widen and I subconsciously took a step back. I also saw Harry stiffen next to me.


 

    After I regained my composure, I spat back, “Yeah, is that a problem?”


 

    Hermione said, “No, it’s not, right, Ron?” She looked at him hopefully, but his eyes were still trained on me.