"Clarisse, go get your brother and come down here."
I rolled my eyes, dragging myself off the couch to go get my brother. My brother is the most annoying, self-centered git I know. Depending on whom you ask you'll get all sorts of answers; the most famous in the Slytherin house is 'the Slytherin Prince.'
"Draco, get your arse up and let's go. Mum wants us."
A head of white blonde hair, the exact shade of mine and our parents popped up from underneath the sheets.
"Well tell her to bug off."
Typical Draco Malfoy. Sometimes it's hard to believe we're related. Actually it's not ithat/i hard to believe. We're both stuck up (him more so than me), both love to buy things, both love quidditch, and both like to be the rich jerks we are. I at least have a little room in my system for respect.
"Zabini's here too you git. That's why we have to go downstairs."
Pansy was there too, and the two cows, but I wouldn't bother telling him that useful bit of information. He'd figure it out when he came downstairs. Then he'd probably want to murder me, but I was going shopping with my mother, so it didn't really matter at the moment.
He lugged himself out of bed and began to get dressed, my cue to get out of the room.
"He's coming mum, he's just being a bit of a bone-head about it."
My father looked up and gave me a sharp glance,
"Clarisse, don't call your brother names. If you can't control your tongue, I can always get the Dark Lord to fix it for you."
That was his threat for everything. I didn't ever take it seriously, but I did heed what he told me. It was Draco that he had to threaten and occasionally beat to get him to listen. My mother hated when he did that.
Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy all sat around the table, helping themselves to whatever they felt like. Crabbe and Goyal especially. They were disgusting to watch, and I don't think my mother particularly liked them.
"Can we go now Mum?"
School shopping was always fun. New robes to buy, clothes, books, notebooks, pet supplies. It was always fun to shop. A gift I inherited from my mother I suppose. My father was never very excited to go shopping, nor my brother. My brother was my father's duplicate in so many ways, morphed to be just like him. He was being raised to become a death eater, and I was being raised to be a good house wife someday.
That'll be an exciting life. About as exciting as my mother's life is now. At least I won't have to work though. The only downside is I'll be sure to be married off to some rich pureblood family. I'm pretty sure the highest candidates at this point are Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. Nothing against either of them, but I really don't like them in that way.
Draco came bouncing down the stairs to greet Blaise, and skidded to a stop when he saw the other three guests, Pansy especially. I have no idea what he sees in that girl, because she is the most disgusting, pig-faced girl I've ever seen. She's probably an easy shag for him. He's constantly going back and forth between girls.
There's another description to add to his list; man-whore.
"Yeah, c'mon Clair. Let's go."
Blaise was lucky I didn't see him checking out my arse as I left, because I would've hexed him good for it. If Draco hadn't been distracted by Pansy, he would've hexed him ten times worse.
Mum and I used floo powder to go to Diagon Alley. My first time using floo powder didn't turn out that well. That's all I'm going to say on that particular subject.
