Disclaimer: Harry Potter sadly isn't mine... jk. (JK Rowling's, that is).

Malfoy landed himself in Slytherin, and I Gryffindor—no complaints there. We, however, still hated each other to no end. All my attempts at acting friendly toward him had utterly failed, and that wasn't so surprising, according to my part-Veela cousin Dominique. "Look, Rose," she had said to me, "You're better at school than anything else. Don't worry if you don't have that many friends...focusing on your studies so much...Hey, there's still your family!"

Yeah, like that helped to lift up my spirit. She had just announced that I was going to be friendless due to my loving of school. Her Veela-self must be grateful that I wasn't around to steal all her glory from the boys. I wanted to hex her into saying something nice to me, and make up by telling me I was her favorite cousin.

Not going to happen anytime soon.

My day was going quite well, actually, until the point of our first flying lesson—with Slytherin, of course—that afternoon. No, no, oh no, no, my mind began to panic as I spotted my archenemy, the broomstick, again.

"When I count down from three and blow my whistle, yell 'UP!' as loud as you can!" Madam Hill instructed from her spot on the field. "Ready? THREE—TWO—ONE!"

"UP!"

I shouted the word along with everyone else, but mine did not budge an inch. Malfoy's and Al's both did, on the other hand. I felt rather embarrassed that he had managed to beat me in something. Flying, at that. It was my weak point. Ever since an incident involving a seven-year-old me, a broom, and Quidditch, I had been terrified of flying.

"It seems your broom doesn't like you, Weasley," Malfoy called from where he stood.

Sighing, I grumbled, "Yeah, Malfoy, you're so popular even your broomstick loves you."

He brushed off my retort. "If you can't use a broom for flying, Weasley, perhaps you should try sweeping the floor with it. I'm sure you've had loads of practice at that due to the...economical difficulties of your family."

His Slytherin friends sniggered.

Sure, popularity.

Me? I was smart.

Before Madam Hill could stop us from getting even more serious, I strode right up to Malfoy and, with my broom, struck him hard on the head. "Oh, so this is what you're supposed to do with it," I taunted.

By now, my fellow loyal Gryffindors were laughing harder than the Slytherins, which was oh-so-fun to watch. His eyes glinted. "Don't you dare touch me, Weasley," he snarled dangerously.

"I wasn't touching you at all, Malfoy," I said cheerfully, "It was the broomstick touching you, whether you like it or not! Ha!"

My enemy (said broom) + my new enemy (cough, cough) = win.

I was beginning to like the broomstick, even if it was used to torture Malfoy.

Wasn't there a saying that went, "Fight fire with fire?" Or something?

"Miss Weasley!" Madam Hill snapped sharply, stalking toward me faster than any other woman who had even tried to walk so fast, "Ten points from Gryffindor for inappropriate behavior! Especially coming from the best witch of your year!"

My gloating subdued instantly. I had just caused our house to loose ten points, and I was the one usually earning the points. And it was all because of a stupid argument that Malfoy had initially started.

It was all his fault.

It was all bloody Malfoy's fault.

I hate him.

Really.

I could feel the hot tears burning my eyes as I hung my head in shame, purposely avoiding Al's gaze. I could hear the Slytherins high-fiving each other, giving Malfoy the thumbs up.

My life was now officially horrible, and it was only my first year.

Maybe coming to Hogwarts was something I shouldn't have so looked forward to.

A/n:

My second serious RosexScorpius fanfic... what do you think? Like it? Hate it? Continue? (considering no reviews for the first chapter...)

Read, enjoy, and review! ;) more reviews=more updates! and if there are reviews, I'll make the chapters longer...