I do not own Harry Potter in any way shape or form, for the amazing thing it is thank J.K Rowling, the Potterhead Queen.
this actually isn't an update, just and edit if chapter one...
So this is it. I'm gone. Off to camp. Away from my criminal father, if father is the word to describe him. I see him more as the man who made me, that sort of thing. Camp Hogwarts should be good, I hope. Maybe it will help me forget my past, and show me a new future-ha, better not try kid myself. My past will always haunt me. No matter how hard I try to forget everything my father has done, no one else ever will. I hope Camp Hogwarts will become my safe haven, a place where I will not be beaten every day.
The first thing I saw when the train rounded the corner was a castle, a magnificent castle that was crumbling in an effect that almost made it look alive. Then the camp came into view, cabin upon cabin placed almost randomly around the ruins. In the centre of all the wooden buildings was a huge lake. The water looked almost black. I consulted my brochure and looked it up. 'The Black Lake'. How original.
The train arrived in a small, rustic station. I had to admit, it was beautiful.
"Welcome to Camp Hogwarts. I'm Minerva, name?" said an oldish woman. She sounded kind enough but had that 'don't-mess-with-me' attitude about her. I decided to stay out of her way as much as possible.
"Draco Malfoy," I said in a low voice, so only the Scottish counsellor could hear me. I saw her eyebrows raise at the family name, she covered by saying, "Oh, well the sorting ceremony to find out which house you are in for the duration of the summer will take place in half an hour. When you are sorted into the house, you will go to your dorms and meet your new roommates. Understood?"
I rolled my eyes at her, nodded, dumped my bag on the growing pile, and made my way to the mess hall. The inside of the cafeteria was beautiful, for a camp anyway. The walls were made of pure glass, but were one way, so people could only see out, and not look in.
"Campers, I'm Albus - the head counsellor here - I know you are all anxious to find out where you will be staying for the summer, so, may the sorting ceremony begin!"
One by one, our names were called. From the brochure, I knew the four houses were Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. I knew from the moment I heard the name Slytherin was it was the house for me.
"Hermione Granger," Minerva said. A pretty brunette with wildly curly hair walked up to the platform and sat down. She was beautiful. I allowed myself to watch her; there was no harm in watching, right?
"Gryffindor!" Minerva read out from the long list of names in her hand. Great. Just my luck that one of the prettiest girls in camp was in the rival house to the one I wished to be placed in. From the brochure I had read, since the beginning of the camp, 85 years ago, Gryffindor and Slytherin had always hated each other. Oh well, it's not like anything would have happened if we'd been placed together anyway.
"Draco Malfoy," Gasps went through the rest of the teenagers as I walked forwards, trying not to blush under the weight of the stares I received. I remembered the stupid quiz we had to answer before we came. I knew I should have paid more attention, maybe then I would have got into the same house as Hermione. I waited the few seconds it took for her to find my match on the list. For the first time, I hoped it was Gryffindor.
"Slytherin!" I sighed, my vague hope slipping away, and sauntered off to my table, paying no attention to any of my housemates, or to the rest of the sorting, until Albus spoke again.
"The sorting is now over; you will find your luggage in your rooms. Good night," smiled Albus, seeming pleased with the arrangements of the houses.
I was in SM3, presumably Slytherin, Male, dorm 3. I went inside and immediately saw my bags on top of the closest bed to the door. Wow, they didn't skimp here, everyone had a four poster bed with heavy, emerald green curtains. House pride, I supposed. Sighing, I got to work unpacking my bags.
"Malfoy, huh? Zabini, Blaise Zabini," an Italian looking boy with deep olive skin greeted me.
"Yeah, hey," I replied, uncomfortable with the way he looked at me, as if I was a piece of meat.
"We could be friends, partners in crime." He chuckled at the last expression and held out his hand. I relaxed a little and shook it.
"Yeah. That'd be ... fun." I guess some friends would take my mind off things at home. I smiled for the first time in weeks. It felt good.
"Oright then, see you around mate," he replied, returning to his own bed, just next to mine. I had a sudden feeling this was going to be a great summer; maybe I could have some fun with that girl after all, with a bit of help from Blaise.