Summary: Draco Malfoy has now turned fifteen—and he hates it. He hates everything about it, would give anything to have it easier…ANYTHING!

So…being the 15 year old he is, Draco goes to his favorite place in Hogsmeade and starts to flirt with a 7th year who works there. It seems to him that she knows exactly what he's going through…so he tells her his deepest wish…to be in the 5th grade AGAIN!

And it works. He finds himself in front of his old school. But, after re-living his most painful experience of 5th grade, he finds himself going to Hogwarts for the first time…

And his life is about to change…forever!

"This is so incredibly unfair!" I yelled to nobody in particular.

I was all alone, so there was really nobody to yell at. I supposed it's a good idea for me to be alone right now, seeing as the first person I see could be in danger of being strangled to death. Okay, I know it sounds harsh, but that's exactly how I feel. I'm serving detention at the moment, and all I can think of is evil thoughts towards McGonagall. I don't fancy even trying to think nice, happy thoughts when it comes to McGonagall and her detentions.

I can't stand McGonagall! I mean, it's bad enough to have detention tonight, but I also have one tomorrow night and the next night. You must be thinking I did something real bad, and that's not the case. In fact, I wouldn't even call it bad. I just ditched Professor McGonagall's class—three days in a row. If you really think about it, three days isn't that bad. Besides, that's all I did—honest. Don't you agree that detention should be against the law right now? No? How can you say such a thing? I was busy those three nights—so what if I skip class? I had more important things to do—and now, because of that, I must suffer three days of sorrow! Oh, bugger, I'm getting too dramatic. Who wouldn't? If you knew what I've been through…if only you knew…

I closed my eyes to remember every single detail of what had led up to my detention…

"Mr. Malfoy, your late," McGonagall snapped as I took a seat between Blaise Zabini and Hector Avery, my two Slytherin friends.

I rolled my eyes. "I know, and quite frankly, I don't care. It's only by 5 minutes, what's the big deal?" I retorted.

McGonagall's lip became thinner that it's ever gotten, which only happens when she's angry. She stood up and moved to the front of the classroom. I gulped. I've really done it this time. Me and my big mouth. "The big deal, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall hissed. " is that you've skipped my class three days in a row."

"Maybe I was sick," I told her.

"Oh, I seriously doubt that, Mr. Malfoy. I wasn't born yesterday. You see, that's what I thought at first, so I asked you other professors if they knew what you'd came down with. Oddly enough, whatever illness you had didn't unable you to attend Potions. Or any other class, at that. Why would that be, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I don't fancy you or your classes," I muttered bitterly under my breath.

I was relieved that she hadn't heard me. "You've developed quite an attitude about your school work, it seems, ever since you turned 15 in October," McGonagall growled.

"Actually, there's a really good explanation for all of this, Professor," I said, knowing there wasn't.

"Tell me, and it had better not be a load of rubbish," she snapped.

"Well, you see, I have this disease that many 15 year olds can develop, called 15 blues. When you get it, you break out all over your arms and legs with purple zits. It makes you go crazy, so you start to rebel and skip class. No 15 year old wants to be seen in public with purple zits," I explained with a very far-fetched story.

"Nice try, Mr. Malfoy, but your still in trouble. Because you ditched this class three days in a row, I believe the appropriate punishment would be for you to serve detention for three consecutive nights. I want you to write a three-page essay on the real reason you felt to skip my class. Tonight you'll write that essay and hand it in first thing tomorrow morning. The next two nights you'll polish the Trophy room. That will be all."

She returned to her desk. I HATE McGonagall!

I opened my eyes, and sighed. That's how it all happened. I can't change it now, that's for sure. McGonagall seems more and more like Professor Snape each day—don't you agree? Snape makes people write long essays, not McGonagall. I looked down at my pathetic essay full of hatred. It was in my messiest and worst handwriting. I should rewrite it.

It read:

I skipped your classes because quite frankly, they are useless, boring, pathetic, lame—shall I go on? Truth be told, McGonagall, I can't stand you! Your ballsy, cryptic, a know-it-all, and—shall I go on? I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!!!!

I crumbled the piece of parchment up. It clearly shows hatred, and could possibly land me with another detention. I have better things to use my time for than detention. I took out a clean sheet of parchment, and carefully wrote:

Detention, McGonagall

Draco Malfoy

I skipped your class for three days, and believe me, I regret it every second. I did this because—oh, bugger, I really don't have a good reason. I guess it was mostly because I'm getting older, and, no offense, but your classes aren't exactly exciting and fun. I'm sorry if I wasted your time in class today, and I'll try to never be late again. I'll even try to not call-out, if you want. I'll also never skip class again. Promise.

Your worst student,

Draco Malfoy

P.S. I know this isn't three pages long, an dif you give me another detention, I'll understand.