Amidst a crowded train station, three very blonde heads maneuvered quickly through the smoke.

"Now Lucius," said the oldest, clearly the father. "This is your final year. You must keep your grades up. You're a prefect and I don't want anyone to think badly of the Malfoy family because you lost the position. And you must be ready to marry and provide an heir as soon as school is over." The boy nodded his head, listening intently.

"Yes father, I've already chosen a suitable candidate. Narcissa Black, a sixth year."

"Yes, yes, a fine choice. You must begin courting immediately."

A young girl struggled with her trunk behind them, quickly falling farther and farther behind her brother and father.

"Father, Father, wait!" she called as her trunk got stuck in a rut. She yanked as hard as she could, and as the trunk popped out her foot slipped and she tumbled backwards on to the pavement. Abraxas turned around, eying his failure in disgust. He said nothing, instead pushing Lucius' trunk on to the train.

Lucius ran to his fallen sister, gently lifting her slight frame up off the ground. "You must be more careful Adrien," he sighed. "You could have been hurt."

"I know," she whispered. "But it's not like Father would care anyway."


"Malfoy, Adrien!" Professor McGonagall called from her list. Adrien shakily stepped up to the stool and the Sorting Hat was placed on her head.

"Aah, another Malfoy," a voice said in her ear, and she nearly jumped off the stool. "Not exactly like you're brother or father, are you now? You've got quite the brain, good for Ravenclaw. But your heart points to Gryffindor."

Please, I must be in Slytherin, she thought desperately. Father would be so disappointed. You must put me in Slytherin!

"You really would do well in Gryffindor, my dear. But wait, I see that calculating mind, and there's definitely some ambition." Please! Oh, please put me in Slytherin!

"Well if you're sure, SLYTHERIN it is." And so Adrien joined the Slytherin table to much cheering from her brother and quite a few boos from a black haired boy with grey eyes sitting with the Gryffindors.


Adrien was on her way back to the common room after Transfiguration when she was roughly dragged into an empty classroom. Her books flew out of her bag and as she bent down to pick them up someone shoved her backwards. She looked up into the sour faces of Avery and Mulciber.

"Just leave me alone you big bullies," she managed to squeak out, trying to stand up. Avery sneered.

"Is little Malfoy scared? Does she want her big brother?" Adrien put on her brave face, finally forcing her way up.

"What do you want? What did I ever do to you?"

Mulciber laughed. "You exist. And you better watch your back little Malfoy. Your brother won't always be here to protect you."


It was almost the end of the year, and Adrien had only talked to eight people, excluding her teachers. Those eight were the other children in her year. There were the four girls in her dorm (Selene Rookwood, Isabelle Yaxley, Elladora Travers, and Amelia Gibbons), who weren't exactly her friends, but were nice enough, and the four boys in her year as well. At least, it was eight, until she met the Marauders.

Adrien was sitting underneath the big tree by the Black Lake working on her homework when they had come down.

The Marauders. James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. All in Gryffindor, and the four most well known guys in her year. Adrien didn't like them one bit.

"We had Charms homework?" the short, stout boy, Peter, asked. Remus, the bookish one, sighed.

"Yes, Pete. You just copied mine, remember?" The two other boys laughed, but stopped short when they noticed Adrien.

"Hey, you're under our tree!" the boy with glasses, James Potter, exclaimed. Adrien ignored them, choosing instead to finish up her own Charms essay.

"Remus, do you think she heard us?" asked little Peter.

"I'm sure," Sirius drawled. "She just thinks she's too good for us. Stuck up little brown noser. She's a Malfoy, after all."

Adrien's blood boiled, and she looked up, ready for a fight, but when she saw the four boys standing there, glaring at her, all her anger melted away. It was replaced with something very close to fear.

"I – I'm s – s – sorry," she stammered. And before they could notice the tears in her eyes she gathered her things and raced for the castle, desperate to get away from those horrid boys.