Disclaimer: I'm not J.K Rowling or Rick Riordan - if I was I probably wouldn't be writing FanFiction. So I don't own any of the characters (Except Belinda, I take credit for imagining her) or places in this story.(Or the events in Flourish and Blotts, J.K Rowling wrote them in The Chamber of Secrets)

I sighed. Diagon Ally. It was good to be back. I smiled as my Dad came out of the owl emporium with a large brown owl.

"Happy Birthday!" he said happily.

"Dad- no way!" I was too stunned to speak as my Dad passed me the owl. I had been telling him I wanted one since last year, at the start of my first year at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and Wizardry.

I had received a letter from them last year, much to my Dad's shock. Dad was a muggle, and my mother left the day after I was born, so I never knew her.

Together, we walked to Flourish and Blotts, where we would buy the books I needed for this year. There seemed to be a bigger crowd than usual there, and I realized, that this wasn't the only unusual thing. In the centre of the crowd, Gilderoy Lockhart stood madly shaking Harry Potter's hand. It was then that Lockhart announced above the crowd that he would be our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. My eyes flicked down to my booklist, noticing once again that 7 of the 8 books that we needed were written by him. I studied the man that was now talking to the Daily Prophet reporter. Either he was very confident and proud of his own work, or he was extremely self-centred.

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard Harry move behind me. I turned to watch him give the books which Lockhart had given to him to a younger red-haired girl. A Weasley, I guessed judging by the red hair. I had known Harry to be quite good friends with them.

I saw a boy move behind them before saying in his cold voice, "Bet you loved that, didn't you Potter."

I sighed at the blond haired, grey eyed boy who didn't seem to get enough of taunting Potter. I stood in the background as Harry's friends came to his defence, a luxury that I knew Draco wished he had. I was surprised when Lucius Malfoy went and stood with his hand on Draco's shoulder. From what Draco had said to me, his father wasn't one to defend the boy much. More scold him for picking the wrong fights or speaking with the wrong people. Apparently, an argument with Harry Potter and the Weasleys wasn't bad. Especially when Mr. Weasley had been hanging out with Hermione Granger's parents.

I quickly bought my books while they were arguing and, though I have no idea how, I made it out before they left. Dad left to go and get us some ice-cream, so I followed Draco and his father out of the store.

I faintly heard Mr. Malfoy tell Draco that he was going to do some top-secret Ministry business before walking off.

"You know that you shouldn't need to pick fights to get your father's attention, Draco," I said after moving closer to him.

Draco jumped, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm buying school supplies," I told him.

He shook his head, "Not what I meant," He began to walk down the street, I walked along with him, "If my father catches me talking to you, I'll be dead."

"Your father needs to realize that there's nothing wrong with muggles, and give you credit for something other than picking on them."

Draco stopped to look at me, his grey eyes staring straight into my green ones, "I," he said coolly, "have no idea what you're talking about."

I raised my eyebrows, "You don't remember how I found you crying in the common room last year because you couldn't make your father proud unless you could write him a letter about the latest mean trick you played on a muggle-born?"

Draco winced at the memory, "You haven't told anyone, have you?" a look of concern now on his face.

"Of course not," I told him, "I just think that you need to find something better to do than try to make your father proud. Perhaps you could make some friends, or do well in classes."

"I have friends," Draco said defensively.

"Crabbe and Goyle?" I asked him, "You know that they're only friends with you because they're afraid that they might treat you like you treat Potter or Granger."

Draco flinched. I possibly shouldn't have said that.

"What do you suppose I do, Belinda, be nice? I'm not like you. It's all so natural for you, with your loving parents and happy home. I have had to listen to my father go on about how terrible mud-bloods are and how Arthur Weasley has been protecting them. No fun or games. The only thing that makes my family proud of me is a hatred of your type."

I couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy. I had never met my Mum, but I honestly couldn't have asked for a better Dad.

As if the thought had summoned him, I saw my Dad walking towards us with two ice-creams. Draco looked at him over my shoulder and murmured, "I gotta go, seeya at school."

"Yeah, owl me if you need me." Draco nodded and I was glad that I didn't get the 'why would I need you' that this earned me once before.

I watched him walk away before he looked back over his shoulder and called out, "Hey Belinda, nice owl."

I smiled and scratched the little brown owl's head, before walking off with my Dad and licking ice-cream.