Hey people! Another random idea I had...why are they always about Draco Malfoy? Whatevs, here it is:
No one understood him. I didn't either. Not until that day.
I was just walking down the Great Hall the day before Monday. As usual, it was filled with laughter, the smell of delicious food, and friends. Friends, or even just one friend. One friend, that's all I wanted, but no one knew I existed. Not even the professors. I'm sure when they saw my signature on the parchment, neat and faint, they wouldn't know who it was.
Oh, I tried to make an impression. I raised my hand in class. I tried out for the Quidditch team. I even tried pulling a prank on somebody. But everything somehow went unnoticed. Professors overlooked my hand, the captain didn't even look my way, and Fred and George Weasley took the credit of my prank. I was simply destined to be in the shadows, forgotten by all.
I was also basically made to be ignored. I had such a plain complexion, mouse brown hair, pale blue eyes, and a quiet voice, barely ever used. I once dyed my hair, with the spare money I got for working at the Hog's Head. I thought with bright, neon orange hair, people would have to notice me. But still, no one gave me a second thought.
My parents barely even knew me either. "Deirdre, it's time for dinner" or "Deirdre, stop" were the only things I heard my mother utter. My father didn't even speak to me. The two of them were too distracted with Kamila. Beautiful, smart, perfect Kamila. She had long and attractive honey colored hair, eyes like cocoa butter, and a smile that could win contests. She was my sister, just two years younger than me. Maybe if she wasn't born, my parents might have paid attention to me. All I knew now was that nothing mattered to them if it involved their first-born daughter.
I tried telling them how I felt at dinner once. A normal dinner at our house involved Kamila telling Mother and Father about her perfect day, her accomplishments, and anything else she felt the need to tell them. And my parents drank in every word, praising her for her perfectness. In this dinner, the day before Christmas Eve, Kamila was talking about the Slug Club party.
"Oh mother, it was absolutely wonderful," Kamila gushed. "Timothy was so romantic that night, asking me if I wanted some punch." Ah, Timothy Miller, her perfect boyfriend, the perfect match to her perfect self. Mother and Father absolutely loved him. He was rather dull in my opinion, but most perfect people are.
"I'm sure it was dear," Mother said with equal gushing. "Did you wear than salmon dress I gave you? The one with the lace down the back?"
"Oh of course Mum," she said. Kamila got beautiful dresses all the time. I had to buy my own clothes. If I didn't, I would be stuck being buck naked, seeing as my parents didn't buy me a thing. The only things I've received from them was the gift of life, food, and a house to sleep in. This may sound just fine, but for me, this was not enough.
Well, something in me kind of snapped that night, and I wanted to speak my mind.
"Excuse me," I muttered. No one even looked my way.
"Timothy loved the dress so much. He also looked rather dashing in his dress robes."
"Excuse me," I said, with more emphasis and more clearly. Maybe Kamila's eyes flickered to me for a second, but that was the only response given.
"Dear, that boy always looks perfect! I-" Mother started, but I interrupted.
"EXCUSE ME!" Everyone at the table stared at me in shock. My father's fork dropped into his spaghetti. I could feel my usual senses telling me to back down, but I wasn't going to let that happen tonight.
"I would like to speak," I said, trying to be polite. "I was just wondering why my sister gets beautiful dresses and I have to buy my own clothes." No one spoke, so I continued:
"Why does Kamila get the praise when she gets Exceeds Expectations, and I get Outstanding? Why is it that you don't ask how my day was? Kamila this, Kamila that, what about me?"
"Deirdre, stop." my mother said, her lip trembling, but I wasn't done yet.
"I just don't understand," I wailed, my voice raising. "I've done everything to please you! When that didn't work, I tried being naughty, but you still ignored me. What have I done to make you so mad at me? I just-"
"Deirdre Leila Smith, stop this at once," my father yelled with so much force that I flinched. He just stared at me with cold hard eyes. Then he muttered, "You are excused." I quickly grabbed my plate, washed it to perfection, and ran to my room. I sobbed into my pillow. The only time I decided to speak my mind, and everything went terribly. It was one of the first times I remembered my father speaking to me at all.
Well, enough about me. I'll spare you more of my boring life, for this story is about Draco Malfoy.
Every one knew who he was. Lucius Malfoy's son, or Daddy's Boy was what I heard people call him. I haven't given him a second thought really. He didn't give me a second thought either. There was a rumor going around that Draco was going to do something big this year. All I could hope was that it wasn't something that involved evil, but I would later find out that it was something terrible. I'm sure most of you know what I'm talking about.
Anyways, when I saw him in the Great Hall, he did something that had never been done before. He looked at me.
Okay, now I feel pathetic, but it's true. Draco was probably one of the first people to look at me in my entire career at Hogwarts. It wasn't even a significant look. His face was somber and had no emotion or realization. Just a glance, a glance that would forever change my life.
Now all I could think about was Draco Malfoy. I wanted to find out more about him. The one person who looked my way. Some would say I had a school girl crush. Others might say I was a little too desperate for attention. Honestly, I think it was a little of both. I was thankful that he was in my Potions class on Monday, so I might find out some things about him.
Once I got to my Monday Potions class, old, plump Professor Slughorn came to the front of the room. I was in my usual spot: the old and dusty chair in the back of the classroom, next to nobody. I did all of my potions (and every other group thing) solo. Because nobody wants to sit next to the nonexistent girl.
"Today we will be working on a group project, but not with your regular partners." There were many groans and I internally face-palmed myself. Great, a project full of my partner ignoring me as much as possible, I thought.
"I will choose your partners," Slughorn said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Let's see..." He assigned partners little by little, until he came to my name.
"Um...Deirdre Smith?" he asked as though he had never heard the name before. He probably hadn't, mind him.
"Right here sir," I said, but he didn't hear me.
"Is there a Deirdre Smith in this class?" I asked.
"Sir, she's right over there! Didn't you hear her?" I turned to see that Draco Malfoy had spoken and he was pointing to me. I was so shocked I almost fell over.
"Oh...of course," Slughorn said. Many students were looking at me strangely.
"Have you ever seen her?"
"Is she new or something?"
"Never seen her in my life..." I heard some people mutter to their friends.
"Well, Mr. Malfoy, your partner is, uh...Ms. Smith! Yes, that was it..." Although Draco snorted like he would much rather be partnered with someone else, he grudgingly made his way to my seat. I was still very stunned and my dull blue eyes were the size of golf balls.
"Your project is to find a rather hard potion and make an easier formula and process. Well, what are you waiting for? Get started!" Draco sighed and I gasped when he accidentally revealed his arm. The dark mark was in my view, until Draco put his sleeve over it once more. I looked into his grey, almost metallic eyes and back to his sleeve. Then it all made sense.
He didn't want to be a death eater. He didn't necessarily want to be evil. What he really wanted was his father's praise. We were both alike in that way. We would both do anything for our parents to notice us, to love us. But most of all, Draco was afraid. I had heard his father was sent to Azkaban. If what I think is true, then Draco's father was being punished by You-Know-Who through Draco.
I pondered this for a while, when Draco's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
"I wouldn't take that so personally," Draco smirked. "Old Sluggy's obviously off his rocker." I giggled as Draco did an imitation of Slughorn going insane. "So, let's get this project over with?"
"Trust me, I'd be glad to."
Draco and I were friends for a long while, until he murdered (okay, attempted to murder) Dumbledore. We didn't really speak after that. However, Draco changed my life. I went noticed by my Potions class, and found a friend in Tracey Davis. She was really nice and I think she was sorted into Slytherin for her cunningness. I became noticed in other classes and professors answered my long awaited hand. I was the Hufflepuff team's new seeker, and I wasn't too bad. When I got home for the summer holidays, I stood up to my parents and left the house. I got my own flat in London and went to school the next year even though the death eaters had taken over. I joined Dumbledore's Army, and stood up for what I believed in. Things were looking up.
Well currently, the war has ended and I'm still living in my flat in London. I'm a healer at St. Mungo's and I just got a promotion. I love my job and I still keep in touch with my friend Tracey. However, what I really want in my life is to find Draco. I just want to tell him he was the reason my life took a turn for the better. I'm no longer the person I once was. I'm no longer unnoticed.
If you liked it, review. If you didn't like it, review. If you feel neutral about it, review. Seeing a pattern here?