The Boy With The Pale Hair
Intro
One of my first memories of Hogwarts and the wizarding world was that day in Diagon Alley. The first day with Hagrid, the first day of realizing I wasn't exactly normal. And the roughly famous title of The Boy Who Lived wasn't exactly an all pleasant welcoming into this new life. I'm not complaining, it was loads better than what the Dursleys put me through, but nevertheless, I still felt unwelcome.
The first boy to show me any sort of kindness, whether it be out of power or grace- I'll never know- was the infamous, pure-blood heir, Slytherin bred Draco Malfoy. Even at eleven years old, the slicked blond hair, the devilish smirk, and the pompous attitude was bad news to me. But it was just the sort of thing I was attracted to; my weakness. Danger had always found a way to be in my life. I lived for it.
I'll never forget those first words he spoke to me.
"Hello, Hogwarts too?" The rest of the conversation was sort of one-sided and he came off as a bit of a jerk, however, I was just completely fixated in his confidence. It was like none other. I personally lacked in confidence thanks to years of being stepped on by the Dursleys. He highly resembled Dudley, in personality, of course- Draco was much smaller and more pleasant to look at. At his disgusting remarks about Hagrid and Muggle-borns, I should have kept in my head to steer clear of Malfoy, and any of his kind.
This of course was a failed attempt, seeing as I bumped into him, year after year after year. The constant teasing, perpetual glares and going out of our way to make each other "miserable"; somehow I couldn't get away from it.
It was a Hogwarts ritual.