Disclaimer: I only own the plot and Cassie. The rest, sadly, belong to . . . well, other people. :)

Hey peoples! I came to the conclusion that I should not post any more stories--until I got them finished. Well, that went down the drain; this is my pet story and I just had to know what y'all thought. So please r/r! I hope you enjoy!

~*~ Snow White ~*~

Chapter 1

So this is it. This is what I've been waiting years for. Someone finally wants to take me away from this horrible place. But it's not like what I expected at all; I didn't expect to be going back to live in England--and I certainly didn't expect to be going to my real home with my real, biological mother.

There's a knock on my door--my mom must be here already. That was too quick; it makes me suspicious.

"Come in."

A woman walks in. She looks like me, but an older version, with brown eyes and pretty red hair. My eyes flicker to my mirror. Yup. Just like me except for the hair and eyes. Is she nervous . . .?

She closes the door and walks over, wringing her hands.

"Cassandra?"

I pause briefly. "Are you my mother then?"

To my horror, she lets out a slight gasp and begins to cry. She steps up to me and wraps her arms around me in a tight hug. I pat her on the back awkwardly.


Finally, she lets go of me, wiping her eyes with one hand and grasping my arm with the other, as if she is afraid to let go.

"Oh, Cassie, you've got to come home," the woman says in a thick British accent.

I give a slight laugh, then say, "Well let's go then."

|~*~|

My room is gigantic--like everything else about the mansion. Also like everything else in my new home, I am awed by it. It's all so beautiful and . . . nice.

But if she's this rich, why have I lived as an orphan my whole life? Why didn't she keep me?

This thought makes me angry as it races through my mind like a newly-spun top. It doesn't look as if she would have had problems taking care of me, even if she was young.

There is a knock at my door, but I decide to ignore it and just keep unpacking. Though my back is to the door, I hear it open slowly after a moment.

"Cassandra? It's time for dinner."

"I'm not hungry."

"Are you all right?"

I whirl around from my unpacking to face the meek, sad-looking woman standing helplessly in front of my now-closed door.

"What was wrong with me, huh?! Why didn't you want me? . . . Why did you make me live in that hell-hole for so long?" I finally break down, feeling hot tears stream down my cheeks. "You obviously could've kept me if you'd wanted . . ."

I hear my mother's sobs but don't look back to see the despair I can hear in her voice.

"Oh Cassie, there's so much you don't know . . ."

"Then tell me!"

She sighed, closing her eyes. She stuck her head out the door and I heard her asking someone to postpone the dinner. Then she sat down on my bed, gesturing for me to join her. I sat warily, and she turned to me, her brown eyes swimming with emotion.

|~*~|

So now I'm repacking. Strange to be putting my things in Mom's old trunk. It must be bigger than it looks from the outside, because what had filled up two suitcases and a duffle bag before now fit in this one trunk--with room to spare.

In a weird way it sort of makes sense. My mother is a witch; she probably put a charm on the trunk.

Anyway, supposedly I'm going to her old school. I'm not so angry with her anymore, now that I know the whole story. In fact, now that I know the whole story I'm on my mother's side. I have to go fix this--though I'll admit I'm a little unsure of the fact that I can fix it. But she's absolutely certain, so here I go.

I am driven to the London train station and I find Platform 9¾. It was a bit difficult, as you must walk through the barrier between platforms 9 and 10 to get there, but little old me found it all alone.

Now that I am here, though, I am starting to get worried. Everyone is grouped up with all of their families while I stand away from all of them. I am uncertain but keep a proud, stony face as I taught myself to do over the years.

To my left I see a family of three who seem to stand apart from the crowd, not only in my mind, but literally as well.

The mother is gorgeous, but she looks nauseated, and the father is tall and well-built. Their chins are held high. Now I get to see the son and I gasp.

The whole family has blonde hair (I had already seen that), and now I see that, though the woman has blue eyes, the men of the family have stormy-grey eyes. Eyes just like mine. Hair just like mine, silver-blonde and fine.

I am staring by now--and they are staring back. Suddenly, I am knocked to the ground. I let out a short, low growl before I turn slightly and see the hand being offered to me. I take it and am helped back to a standing position by a handsome boy of about 16. He has messy, black hair, and startling green eyes behind black-framed glasses. His mouth opens in shock as I flip my hair over my shoulder.

"G--Ginny . . . What . . . How . . ." He forces his eyes shut and shakes his head hard, clearing his throat. Looks a little flustered. Hm. "Where are the others?--Oh, I'm sorry about running into you, by the way."

"It's no problem." Oh! So it's him! "Um . . . But I'm not Ginny. My name's Cassie."

"Oh. I--I'm sorry, it's just . . . you look almost exactly like--"

"Virginia Weasley!"

I look to my right to see another boy of about 16 hurrying towards Harry (the boy with green eyes) and me. He has bright red hair and reminds me very much of--

"Ron!"

The redhead looks at the boy in front of me.

"Oh, hello Harry." He turns back to me. "Virginia Weasley. What are you trying to do? You look like a Malfoy!"

Before he can yell at me anymore, Harry puts one hand toward me and the other toward the redhead, who I assume is Ron. I just watch Ron with an eyebrow raised.

"Calm down Ron."

"Calm down? What do you mean--?!"

"She's not Ginny."

Ron opens his mouth to give an indignant reply, but another voice pipes in--a female one.

"What about me?"

She sounds oddly like me, only quieter and with a British accent. I turn slightly to be face-to-face with--myself?! Our eyes widen and Ron and Harry gasp. Things around us become quiet.

"Cassandra!"

The man with silver-blonde hair is stalking towards me; I am shocked, but mask my surprise quickly.

"Cassandra Malfoy, we've been waiting for you."

"Of course; I'm sorry."

"Come say goodbye to your aunt, Cassandra."

"Of course, Uncle." I give a curt nod to the others around me.

The man leads me to his family and I watch them, trying to hide my uneasiness. The man and woman bid us goodbye, but as the boy and I turn to walk to the train, I hear the woman call, "Draco!"

He turns back to his parents, who command him, in undertones, to teach me about being a proper Malfoy. I roll my eyes and once again Draco and I head towards the train.

I see Harry to my left and turn toward him, smiling. Someone grabs my arm and I look over at Draco. He's glaring at me.

"Malfoys do not associate with them."

Things around us are suddenly silent as I raise an eyebrow. (Huh, second time to bring utter silence in 15 minutes. That's a record for me.)

"Sounds like someone woke up on the wrong side of Hell this morning."

He seems shocked into a brief silence.

"Is there a right side of Hell?"

"I wouldn't know; why don't you tell me?" I ask sweetly, adding an angelic smile as a topper.

"Why are you so b****y? Boyfriend in the states dump you because you aren't there to give him any?"

"That the best you can come up with, Fa--Draco? I thought you were supposed to be the expert at battling wits. Stunned that someone will stand up to you? Or just that you can't do anything about it?"

He seems to be gritting his teeth as he glares at me. Now he says sternly, "Cassandra, onto the train. We'll talk about this later."

Why do I get the feeling that we aren't only going to be talking quietly?