Chapter One

Eden

"Eden, come here."

"Yes, mother,"

"You see this boy here? This is Draco Malfoy. You two are to be married when you're older, so I want you to be the best of friends." I looked at the boy in front of me. I recognized him. He had the same look in his eyes as I did: blank, bored, waiting. I felt sorry for him. No, I felt sorry for me, and that sorrow just transferred to him as well.

"Hullo," I greeted him. I made sure to keep my hands nicely folded behind my back, perfect posture, not a hair out of place nor a wrinkle on my dress robes, picked out just for the occasion. Mother had even put some makeup on me, a little bit of blush on my cheekbones and some mascara on my eyelashes.

"Good evening." he said rather stiffly. I supposed I would be stiff too, if I were him.

"How are you?" I inquired politely. I could feel Mother's eyes burning holes through my head, and I made sure to be my absolute politest.

"Very well. And you?"

"Lovely," I said, and tried for a smile. It didn't turn out well, so I stopped.

"Shall we go to dinner?" he asked politely, holding out his arm.

"We shall." I took his arm and he led me to the dinner table.

That was the first time I met Draco Malfoy, about six years ago, when I was ten. Now I'm in my sixth year of school at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, half asleep on the train. The sweets cart rattles by, the woman pushing it calling out for people to come buy her sweets. I would like to buy some sweets, but Mum has forbidden me from sugar. Not that she can stop me from eating whatever I like at school, but the train is a completely different matter. Who knows how many people she has here, watching me to make sure I follow her orders.

A loud banging, crashing noise comes from beyond the closed doors of my empty compartment, and I lean forward slowly to open the door. People are shouting and yelling over each other, so it takes me a while to figure out what's going on. When I figure it out, I jerk upright with shock, then walk lethargically out of my compartment.

"Someone's on the roof!" a one Colin Creevey tells me excitedly in passing, reaching for the camera around his neck. "Come and see!" he shouts over his shoulder as he runs towards the commotion. I follow him more slowly, trying to seem dignified when anyone who knows me could see that I'm just tired. Not that anyone knows me. Pansy Parkinson is no more to me than a name I add when listing my "friends", along with most every other pureblood girl in my year

I float through the crowd like leaves on a breeze, making good use of the million and three dance classes Mum has made me go to, and finally reach the compartment in which the boy in question managed to climb onto the roof through the window. Wind blows into the compartment, buffeting most everyone out but those with the proper magical training; namely, a Hufflepuff prefect and myself.

"What's going on?" I ask him. He starts and turns to look at me, surprised that a Slytherin such as myself would even notice a mudblood Hufflepuff like him. When he finally regains his composure, he manages to say, "A boy got on the roof and he can't get back down. As far as I can tell, he's somehow managing to hold on to the roof, probably with some spell. I just can't figure out how to get him down without hurting him!"

"What's his name?" I demand.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley." he says, surprised at my question. "But why-"

Whipping out my wand, I say, "Accio Justin Finch-Fletchley!" Every single one of the spectator's mouths fall open nearly at the same time as Justin Finch-Fletchley comes soaring through the window to land at my feet. I slip my wand back up my sleeve and into it's pocket. "There you are." I turn and walk straight-backed towards the crowd of spectators. They part around me as if Hagrid had just been through before me, closing back up behind me as I leave.

Back in my compartment, I think for a moment on where I have heard the name "Justin Finch-Fletchley" before. Back in my second year, I think, when the Heir of Slytherin was loose among the students. We Slytherin's made bets on which mudblood would be the first to die. Wildly curly brown hair, happy grin, freckles, Justin was the one I voted for. Now that I think about it, he looks rather like that boy muggle girls are so infatuated with. Harry something? Style? He always seemed like a cheap ripoff of Harry Potter to me, so I didn't pay much attention to him. According to rumors I've heard in History class, after being petrified when he was twelve Justin has taken to acting rather like an even more stupid, one-man version of the Weasley twins, when they're in cahoots with Peeves. A stupid, rather magically talented wrecking ball of a boy, Justin's new favorite pastimes are doing anything and everything stupid and/or dangerous, usually while doing something else of the same sort. I briefly wonder if I should have left him on that roof, but then I figure that school would have been delayed for his funeral and I think I am physically unable to spend any more time at home.

I'm just about to fall back to sleep when my compartment's door is slammed open so hard it nearly bounces all the way closed again. I start with surprise at the noise, then turn to see who it is. Justin Finch-Fletchley stands in the doorway, swaying with the rocking motion of the train. An overly large grin is plastered over his rather attractive (for a mudblood) face, his tie is undone and his robe has gone off somewhere, possibly down the proverbial drain of the wind displaced by the movement of the train.

"Hullo!" he cries. I cringe at the happy note in his voice.

"What do you want?" I ask crossly, already sick of being around him.

"My, your hair is so black!" he exclaims joyously.

"Quite."

"And look at those eyes, so blue! Wow, they go really well with your hair-!"

"Get to the point." I demand through gritting teeth, regretting immensely not having let him die when I had the chance.

He doesn't even blink at my rudeness, though I guess most people expect Slytherins to be rude to them on principal, and says, "Thank you very much for rescuing me!"

"It was nothing." I say instantly, feeling a blush starting to spread across my face. "The commotion annoyed me."

He cocks his head to the side, still with that annoying grin. "I didn't ask what your reasons were! I just said thank you!" His smile widens and I briefly wonder at the stretching capabilities of a human face.

"I don't accept thanks from mudbloods." I say coolly. I wait for his reaction; his face falling, his smile fading, his eyes losing that annoying twinkle. "Oh," he would say. "I see." And then he would walk dejectedly down the hall, letting everyone know that I, Eden Greengrass, was the one who conquered Justin's seemingly indomitable spirit.

Instead, he says, "I didn't ask you to accept it! I just thanked you!" To my surprise, he steps into the compartment, slamming the door behind him, then sits down across from me. Then he just smiles disarmingly at me, making it impossible for me to get even a wink of sleep.