I cannot believe that my foolish parents bought this awful shop. There was nothing here but old wizarding junk, a giant cabinet that hardly closed properly, and dust. But the café next door wasn't as bad…except for the clientele. I've never met such shady people in my life! I missed my friends at the Salem Witches' Institute. I wanted to go home. However, my parents found it very urgent to return to their home in England and to drag me with them. Something about some old lord coming back to power. Whatever...it was just weird British stuff to me, anyway.

Turning to the rusted mirror on the wall, I tried to tame my bangs

("For heavens' sakes, Darcey, would you please just allow me to style your hair? How can you see through those thick bangs? Is the world tinged red from looking through your own hair? And I wish you would straighten those waves once in a while.")

before thrusting the money my mother was holding out to me into my robe pocket. Time to go shopping for a new school year, at a new school.

Deep in my thoughts of home, and probably mumbling to myself, I didn't hear the door jingle as it was opened. I reached my hand forward for the doorknob, and came into contact with something that was definitely not a doorknob.

"Oh, I..Uh…" Jumping back, and looking up, I saw a boy about my age standing in front of me. He was tall, rather dark skinned, and was just staring at me. Well, more like glaring. "I'm so very sorry! Silly me lost in my own thoughts. Uhmm…what brings you to Borgin and Burkes'? Anything I can help you find?"

"That's enough, Darcey. Off you go. You have much to get before leaving for Hogwarts in 2 days." My mother spoke up from behind the merchandising counter.

"Yes," The strange boy said, still staring, but no longer quite glaring, at me, "Can't have a pureblood show up for classes unprepared." He sidestepped out of the doorway, nodding to me as I walked past.

"Well..erm, off I go. Good luck with whatever you're looking for..."

"Blaise. Zabini."

"Right, Blaise."

Would everyone at Hogwarts be like that Blaise boy? I know my parents are all about being pureblood and everything, but back at Salem's none of that stuff was a big deal. Once again deep in my own thoughts, and probably mumbling to myself, I set off on my way to Diagon Alley. Soon, however, I found myself incredibly lost. Turning all around, all I saw were unmarked doors set in old, stained, brick walls. No wonder all the people around here were fairly shady…the whole area is!

Shortly after setting back towards the way I came, I began to hear footsteps. Straining my ears, I could hear them coming towards me, and picking up speed. I know it's stereotypical, but I wanted to hide. Just a few yards ahead, there was a broken basement window. I took my chances that the building was empty, and rushed for it. Merely seconds after squeezing through, the footsteps were close enough to tell me the person was in the same stretch of alley that I was. I heard labored breathing…and a second pair of footsteps? Yeah, hiding was definitely the best choice.

Turning to look around at the room I was in, I noticed it was empty but for one light bulb in the ceiling, before being pushed down by something. I opened my mouth to scream, but before I was able, a hand was crushed across my mouth.

"Don't say a thing. Don't move, don't breathe, unless you want to die in this place." The boy barely whispered, turned me around to face him, and apparently to better hold me down. It's funny the things that go through your brain when it's in shock. When I should've been terrified, and trying to escape, all I could do was stare at this strange person in front of me. His eyes were a confused coloring of clear blue and smoky grey, his nose was slightly too pointy for his square jaw, and the hand that was over my mouth smelled of rust and iron…blood?

"Oohhhhhhhhh Draaaacooooo!"

A woman's voice called from out in the alley. The way the boy appeared, and the sound of her voice, I decided I was going to listen to him, even if it was just until this woman (hopefully) gave up the search.

"Come on, stupid little Malfoy, I was only having a little fun."

He visibly flinched. I just kept staring straight at him, refusing to look away. Something must have told the boy…Draco…that I was afraid, too, because he slowly took his hand away from my mouth. When he was satisfied that I was going to cooperate, he let me up from the floor. Instantly, he clutched his arm to his chest...in pain?

"Draaaacooo…"

He turned his back to me, removed his overshirt, and wrapped it around his left forearm. Now that I was allowed to sit up, I could see that it was his arm that had been injured, not his hand. Did that scary woman slice up his arm? Is that why he was running? Oh what a bloody wonderful welcoming party I'd found myself.

"Oh, fine. But do return soon, boy, or else our lord will find himself quite disappointed with you. We can't have that with another Malfoy."

*Crack*