I do not, will not ever own Harry potter or any of the places, people or things that are mentioned. They all belong to JKR.
Chapter one: What's it going to be?
Okay, let's face it. Being the daughter of two out of the three of the world famous trio isn't bad. I mean, you'd think that people would perhaps respect me, or even be a little afraid of me... I would be if I wasn't me. If you thought this earlier on, please feel free to now correct yourself because you are most certainly wrong.
Rose Weasley is the name, you know, the one with curly ginger hair. The daughter of the Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger-brightest witch of her age and so on.
But under no circumstance did I ever think that I would end up looking like Crookshanks on bath day, because some jerks in the year below me thought it would be funny to drop a water balloon on my head.
"You know the problem with you Weasley?" I heard a cocky voice say.
I rolled my eyes, gee.. does he want to add another problem to my list?
"I'm sure you're going to tell me Malfoy..." I sighed
He smirked, leaning against wall, arms folded trying and succeeding to look like a smart arse.
"You're too nice."
"What?" I scowled, crossing my arms as he pushed his foot against the wall shoving his hands in his pockets.
"You let them walk all over you, even though you've been here for 5 years already."
I shook my head. Oh joy, he is trying to give me advice. But it was a plus side that he even knew that I was in the same year as him. Dad has always said that the Malfoy' heads usually take up the space of the classroom so they never notice anyone else is there.
"I'll tell you what. I'm going to teach you how to stop being such a push over ." Malfoy continued, hands still in his pockets as he cockily ambled over to me, smirking at my wet curls that had begun to bounce up.
"Now why on earth would you do that Malfoy?" I asked, raising one eyebrow. I knew that there had to be a catch, there was always a catch with a Malfoy- So dad says.
He rolled his eyes this time, studying his fingers with a bored glaze to his eye. Wait, why was he bored? He was harassing me!
"Because Weasley."
"That isn't an answer."
"Okay, because I'm nice." He shrugged.
I frowned. He wasn't nice.
"So, what do you say? Its either come to Malfoy's school of how not get the pulp punched out of you, or get pelted with more water balloons. What's it going to be?"
Author note: Hello, this was a random story which popped into my head, so lets see how it goes. If you can, could you please review and let me know what you think of it :) Thank you!