My mom always told me that I could do anything if I put my mind to it. I anted to be a witch. So now I am standing in front of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Alone. On the first day of school.
I am new to magic. All summer long, I had to catch up on the 1st-5th years. I'm all cursed out. Finally, I get to live my dream. But I am lonely.
I walked up to the man with long white hair. His name is Professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore. I like that word. It rolls off your tongue. He begins to discuss my test scores.
"You have umimaginably high marks, even for a student who has been here for all 5 years. Only one student has marked higher than you: Hermione Granger."
Ah, yes. The legendary Hermione Granger. She has obviously worked on magic any chance she had. I wanted so badly to be her friend. We could be best friends- casting spells, preforming curses, concocting potions. I think that would be a lot of fun.
The Professor sorts me into my house- Ravenclaw. The house of the smartest people. I ask him why Hermione isn't there too.
"Ah, but, tis a mystery. Only she knows." and he leaves me to get settled, with a scedule and a map to my room.
As I am walking up to my room, I see a boy in the hall. He has whitish-blond hair, slicked back. He looks to be about 16, like me. He is alone.
I extend my hand. "Hello. I'm Cynthia. I'm new here." He looks me over, probably deciding whether I'm worth talking to him or not.
I can always tell about people when I first meet them. I look into their eyes, and It's like I'm staring into their very mind. I can see his mind, too.
He tries to look tough, but deep inside, he has been hurt. Deeply hurt. He doesn't know if he can ever trust again.
He shakes my hand, looking at me expectantly, probably wondering if I am playing a cruel joke on him or not. He shakes my hand and says, "I'm Draco."
I smile. My mother has always told me that a smile can do wonders for your first impression. He doesn't smile back, but he hesitates. I know that he isn't very frightened anymore, by me.
"It's nice to meet you," I tell him, and he nodds, as if he's either agreeing with me, or he feels the same. We begin to talk. He doesn't offer very much information, but I can tell he wants to. He is just afraid. He doesn't want to feel that pain again. The pain that feels as if you can never eat again. The pain that you feel when your heart is smashed into a billion pieces.
I want to tell him that it's ok. That I really like what I have seen of him so far. But I can't if I want to ruin everything.
We talk and talk for hours. I had wanted to meet Hermione Granger, but nothing else seems important now. Nothing but talking to Draco. We discuss everything- Quidditch favoutites, candy we like, most useful curses. It is great. A farmiliar tingle runs up my spine as our hands rub together. I don't think it's by accident. I want to hold his hand, to tell him everything is ok. But then, disaster strikes.
An argument begins by a small disagreement. But it grows. Soon we're yelling. I'm sure all of Hogwarts can hear us, but I don't care. I yell, "YOu know, you aren't the only one with a broken heart!" and I run up to my dorm, smash ing a few vases. Filch will be on my case, but I don't care. I try to cast a scilencing spell on my four-poster, but I end up charring the floor before I get it right. I need the scilencing spell, to drown out the sobs that are comming from my heart.
I am new to magic. All summer long, I had to catch up on the 1st-5th years. I'm all cursed out. Finally, I get to live my dream. But I am lonely.
I walked up to the man with long white hair. His name is Professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore. I like that word. It rolls off your tongue. He begins to discuss my test scores.
"You have umimaginably high marks, even for a student who has been here for all 5 years. Only one student has marked higher than you: Hermione Granger."
Ah, yes. The legendary Hermione Granger. She has obviously worked on magic any chance she had. I wanted so badly to be her friend. We could be best friends- casting spells, preforming curses, concocting potions. I think that would be a lot of fun.
The Professor sorts me into my house- Ravenclaw. The house of the smartest people. I ask him why Hermione isn't there too.
"Ah, but, tis a mystery. Only she knows." and he leaves me to get settled, with a scedule and a map to my room.
As I am walking up to my room, I see a boy in the hall. He has whitish-blond hair, slicked back. He looks to be about 16, like me. He is alone.
I extend my hand. "Hello. I'm Cynthia. I'm new here." He looks me over, probably deciding whether I'm worth talking to him or not.
I can always tell about people when I first meet them. I look into their eyes, and It's like I'm staring into their very mind. I can see his mind, too.
He tries to look tough, but deep inside, he has been hurt. Deeply hurt. He doesn't know if he can ever trust again.
He shakes my hand, looking at me expectantly, probably wondering if I am playing a cruel joke on him or not. He shakes my hand and says, "I'm Draco."
I smile. My mother has always told me that a smile can do wonders for your first impression. He doesn't smile back, but he hesitates. I know that he isn't very frightened anymore, by me.
"It's nice to meet you," I tell him, and he nodds, as if he's either agreeing with me, or he feels the same. We begin to talk. He doesn't offer very much information, but I can tell he wants to. He is just afraid. He doesn't want to feel that pain again. The pain that feels as if you can never eat again. The pain that you feel when your heart is smashed into a billion pieces.
I want to tell him that it's ok. That I really like what I have seen of him so far. But I can't if I want to ruin everything.
We talk and talk for hours. I had wanted to meet Hermione Granger, but nothing else seems important now. Nothing but talking to Draco. We discuss everything- Quidditch favoutites, candy we like, most useful curses. It is great. A farmiliar tingle runs up my spine as our hands rub together. I don't think it's by accident. I want to hold his hand, to tell him everything is ok. But then, disaster strikes.
An argument begins by a small disagreement. But it grows. Soon we're yelling. I'm sure all of Hogwarts can hear us, but I don't care. I yell, "YOu know, you aren't the only one with a broken heart!" and I run up to my dorm, smash ing a few vases. Filch will be on my case, but I don't care. I try to cast a scilencing spell on my four-poster, but I end up charring the floor before I get it right. I need the scilencing spell, to drown out the sobs that are comming from my heart.
