And I'm back with another fun filled year. My friend read through this four me. Dunno when I'll update cause I need to work on my other fics, too. The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling, Ivy is mine, and Marika is my friend Kate's. Enjoy! ^^

Year Four

Chapter One

Year Four: When You Start The Year Off With A Bang Before The Year Even Starts, You Have To Wonder Whether Or Not It's A Good Thing

I had all-too happily returned home after my term at Hogwarts was over, which slightly confused my parents, but pleased them nonetheless. All of my mother's concerns of me becoming a "rebellious teenager" from the previous summer had been washed away, and I was thrown an extravagant (yet private) fourteenth birthday party in the middle of July, where I was showered with gifts. All funds needed had come from our abundant sources passed down through our pure-blooded ancestry.

And then it happened, the event that completely threw me for a loop. I, like many others, had the intention of attending the Quidditch World Cup finals, which were being held in Britain this year. However, my parents had other plans. They were both members of the Ministry of Magic, and had a business trip they needed to go on, which would span over the last two weeks of my vacation, including the World Cup. Since they had all intentions of giving me whatever I wanted, they recruited the services of a fellow wizarding family that we were acquainted with.

Which was why, at that very moment, I was in fact at the Quidditch World Cup, with none other than Draco Malfoy staring at me.

While this action annoyed me, I could almost see why he was doing just that. Since Muggles, humans who were incapable of performing magic, were employed for this event, we were supposed to dress like them, as to avoid suspicion. In opposition to my school robes that Draco normally saw me in, I had taken to full Muggle garb. Staying true to the fact that I was in Slytherin, both my pants and shirt were green, but the light jacket was a deep purple. Why did I need a jacket if it was the middle of summer? I didn't, really, but the thing was damn comfy. To top off the whole ensemble, I had shoved what I could of my already short brown hair under a hat. I had also toyed with the concept of fake glasses over my dark brown eyes, but eventually decided against it.

Draco himself, with the same silver-blond hair and silver-gray eyes as always, had also resorted to Muggle clothing, but if someone had to pick out which one of us was a pureblood and which one wasn't, they would have most likely chosen him. He had probably decided that if he had to dress like this, he was going to have the best. I personally thought he looked a little stuffy, but who was I to judge?

Though I was grateful to the Malfoys for actually agreeing to put up with me for two weeks, I would have much rather been with any other family right now, even if I didn't really know them. Most preferably, I would've come with Marika Kanda, a girl who I had befriended my first year at Hogwarts. However, she had seemed to disappear the moment we stepped off the Hogwarts Express, and, if every other year was an indicator, I wouldn't see her again until I once again stepped foot on that train.

"Come now, Draco, it's rude to stare," I chided, chucking as I did so. Even if the boy was a pompous brat, he was fun to tease.

Draco scowled at the comment, but took a minute to come up with a rebuttal. "I wouldn't have to stare if you would dress sensibly, Matrons," he responded, using my surname. "What the hell are those?"

I rolled my eyes at this. "They're clothes, Draco; I thought that much was obvious. I also intend to keep wearing them. That is, unless, you would much rather I run around naked." He gaped for a moment, a very light shade of pink crossing over his cheeks, which was easy to spot with his pale complexion. I smirked at my victory before greeting the person I saw approaching us. "Hello, Mr. Malfoy!"

At this, Draco quickly straightened out his expression and turned around to face his father. The family resemblance was very obvious, and one I never became entirely used to. Lucius Malfoy was essentially an older version of his son, the only main difference being that Lucius had grown out his hair to be a few inches past his shoulders.

"Hello, Ms. Matrons," Lucius greeted. "I assume that both you and Draco are ready to go." He took a moment to observe my clothing, which I knew I should have expected. Like father, like son, I supposed.

"Yes, sir, I'm good to go," I dutifully responded, smiling. "What about you Draco?" I had every intention of actually getting Draco involved in this conversation. He simply nodded, still put off from my earlier comment. Regardless of whether Ireland or Bulgaria won the match, I already officially dubbed this day to be the best part of my summer.

--

Later on, while I was stuck running, I wondered exactly what the hell I had been thinking. The match had been fine; Lucius had secured seats for us in the Minister's box, and I had been able to happily watch as Ireland defeated Bulgaria, 170-160, a much more interesting game than the ones that were held at Hogwarts. However, during the following celebrations, chaos had broken out as Death Eaters, who were supporters of Lord Voldemort, decisively had gone on a rampage.

To be honest, the running hadn't been my idea, but Draco's, and I mentally cursed the boy for it as I reluctantly followed him into the woods that surrounded the campsite. As much as I hated looking at it this way, the two of us had absolutely no reason to run. We were both of pureblood ancestry, not to mention Draco's parents were Death Eaters themselves, which was why they weren't with us at the moment. I decided to bring these particular points up.

Draco seemed quite pleased with my concern, and he smirked. He stopped running, with me doing the same right behind. "I'm kind of surprised you actually followed me this far out, Matrons," he remarked, turning to fully face me.

I sighed deeply, irritated already. "Mind telling me why I just ran for no damn good reason?" I demanded. I had never been a very athletic person, unless it came to Quidditch. Then again, Quidditch was conveniently a sport that didn't involve any running.

"Well, it's nothing terribly important, Ivy," Draco responded, the use of my first name letting me know something was up, not to mention making me uncomfortable. The fact that I was slowly getting backed up into one of the surrounding trees made the feeling even worse. "I'm just trying to pick up some unfinished business from last year. You do remember last year, don't you?"

Did I remember? What a stupid question, of course I did. I had been trying to relax at my favorite spot on the Hogwarts grounds, when none other than Draco had showed up, sporting a black eye, which I later learned to be the work of Hermione Granger. And what had happened after that…

"So, tell me, Draco, how did Madam Pomfrey react when you came up to the hospital wing with two black eyes?" I questioned, relishing on my memory of giving him a particularly nasty left hook. I had considered going for the nose, but hadn't particularly felt like getting blood on my robes.

I was expecting a retort to my query, but didn't get one. Instead, Draco moved closer to do the very same thing that had gotten him punched last time, and I mentally resolved that he wasn't leaving without a broken nose, no matter what bullshit explanation I would have to give his parents, and quite possibly mine, later.

Draco slowly pulled his lips away from mine, and I waited for the wave of anger that would send my fist flying into his face and the wonderful crunching noise that would follow. After a few moments of nothing happening, I was sorely confused as to what was going on. It seemed so was Draco, since he was gaping at me again.

"You liked it," he whispered, though it sounded more like he was convincing himself as opposed to rubbing it in my face. "You actually liked it…"

The revelation hit me just as it had hit him, and I was forced to employ the tree behind me as support. I simply stood there, staring into his eyes. It scared me, knowing that I had no real evidence to prove otherwise. If all else failed, I could always claim insanity, which seemed about right. After all, what other explanation was there that could make it true? Draco Malfoy had kissed me, and I had liked it…

Then the sound of approaching footsteps and voices came, snapping the two of us back to reality. Draco opted out to lean against a different part of the tree and watch the scene at the campsite through a gap in the trees, his arms folded. I, having no real reasoning as to why I suddenly felt cold, pulled my arms around my chest in what could be described as a self-hug and determinedly stared off in the opposite direction.

I didn't listen to Draco's conversation with Harry Potter and friends. My mind was too busy reeling at the fact that I still had another week in the Malfoy household.