A/N: Hey guys! First of all, thank you for clicking on the story, it really does mean a lot. Now, I'd like to say a few things. Firstly, I am quite a realistic person and I'm down to earth, for that reason, this isn't going to be a story where Draco and my character, Elisha, talk in chapter one and in chapter two they're already passionately kissing. Things like those don't happen in real (or magical as a matter of fact) life, and if they do I wouldn't call it love. This is a love story. A love story that starts from something resembling hate or strong dislike, and progressively turns into love. So if you're expecting a love story which is kissing and further from day one, then this isn't it. nevertheless I made it as realistic as i possibly can, trying to take what JKR gives us about Draco and make up my own background story of the events, which doesn't affect the original plot, and could've actually happened. Please remember to leave reviews with comments, ideas and constructive criticism! I'd love that so much!
Chapter 1
"Finally" I breathed.
I've spent about half an hour adjusting and shifting about to get confortable in this damned armchair. I believe it has something to do with there being no chairs like those at Hogwarts. I don't know if it's because they put some kind of enchantment on them –like most things at Hogwarts- or perhaps it's like that saying so knowingly put it "There's no place like home" hence just the fact of those chairs making a part of my favorite place on earth, makes them amazing by default.
I looked around the chair for my book…Oh, bloody hell! I'm damned sure that I'm probably the daftest Ravenclaw in the history of Hogwarts! I left my book on the desk! Now I'll have to get up and get it, after spending all this time trying to get comfy, and now that I am, I'll have to leave my lovely position on the arm chair, and then start all over again if I am to go get my book. I glance wistfully towards the wand that chose me almost 4 years ago, that was just casually lying by my side. A long and elaborate wand, with beautiful carvings on the surface, made of oak wood with a unicorn hair core. If only I could perform a simple Accio charm to retrieve the book I was currently reading. Damn it I'm almost 16 anyway; I really don't see why I can't perform harmless magic when I'm on summer holidays, just to make life more convenient if anything.
With a sigh I staggered to my feet and halfheartedly made my way across my bedroom towards the desk to pick up the quite tattered copy of "The Picture of Dorian Grey" by Oscar Wilde, an eccentric yet brilliant muggle author. I must've read this book three times already. Unfortunately this summer I've read all of the books by wizard authors we have at home, and thus worked my way through all our small yet significant collection of muggle-authors too. I have therefore been forced to read the same novels a few times just to make time pass.
I flipped through the pages of the book until I reached page 107, and began where I left off.
"Eli!" I heard my mother call my name out, most probably from the kitchen, and if my deductive mind doesn't let me down, probably wanting me to go down and set the table. To hell with that! She's an adult and can use magic, why ask me to put down my book and walk all the way there and then slave away carrying plates when she can simply and effortlessly swish her wand and make it happen? No I refuse to.
"Elisha!" I guess the use of my full name rather than my nickname is an indicator to the fact that she isn't planning on giving up soon. Well, I can always pretend I didn't hear her. She can't exactly know can she? Unless she brewed a Veritaserum potion, and how unrealistic is that? Besides, I always pretend I can't hear her when I know she's giving me some unwelcome task.
"Elisha this is the last time I'm going to call you! If you don't come now, I promise you'll be getting the most horrendous of your grandmother's dresses for this winter ball!" Damn the woman! I quickly dropped the book making a mental note of the page I was on and hurriedly walked out of my room, through the hallway and into the kitchen.
I put on my most sombre expression "What?"
"Don't what me Elisha Hyra-" she started, but I interrupted at the sound of my detested second name "Don't call me that, I find it makes me sound idiosyncratic" I replied, holding back an impertinent smile.
"Oh dear me, she's learnt another word; Fabulous! Set the table." My mother said with a sarcastic smile.
I rolled my eyes, something I've seemed to take as habit this summer. I took the plates to the dining room and began to idly set the table, as my mother muttered to herself about teenagers.
After about 20 minutes of being forced to walk back and forth inside our family apartment in London, repeatedly calling my father and brother to come to eat, whilst they half muttered responses about being there in a moment.
My father's name is Olivier Borrand, he's a tall, nonchalant, respected French greying wizard of 51 with a senior position at the Ministry of Magic. My mother on the other hand is a sarcastic, witty and on the most part, charming woman of 43 named Tamaia Borrand. She grew up in Manchester, and attended Hogwarts in her time, she actually happened to be to Ravenclaw too.
Anyway, as I seem to be describing the entirety of my household, let me finish with my brother. My 'golden' brother is called Julian Borrand and is now 19 years old if I'm correct, not that I pay much attention to him anyway. He just graduated from Hogwarts last year, and was a Gryffindor, although if you ask me I don't know how that scoundrel made it to such a respectable house. I wonder how Julian didn't land himself in Slytherin. Julian's hobbies include dating a number of girls and cheating on them all, bragging about himself and his achievements (which for the most part include dating every beautiful girl of 14 years or older that attended Hogwarts when he was there, being the star chaser of the Gryffindor Quidditch team under Wood, and obtaining some boring position in the Ministry of Magic which he believes makes him look mature and 'desirable' but frankly is quite ridiculous because of the fact that he only got that job because of my father) and last but not least staring at himself in a mirror.