DPOV
*beep! beep!* I yawned and hit the 'off' button on my alarm, my eyes still closed. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, i looked at my clock. It was 6:03 AM. My mother and father would be home soon with the girl. I got out of bed and walked across to my window, still half asleep. The sky was an ambery red colour; the sun just rising in the distance. I sighed and walked into my ensuite bathroom, shutting the door behind me. Looking at the mirror above my sink, I noticed the dark purple rings underneath my eyes. Gawd, I was so tired. I splashed water over my face before turning the shower on and stepping inside, the cold water falling all over me.
I don't know how long i stayed in my room, sat on my bed, guitar in hand, staring at the blank sheet of music next to me, trying to think of something to write. I sighed; I'd been trying unsuccesfully to write a song for weeks, but I had no inspiration... Inspiration. That was exactly what I needed. And the girl my parent's were bringing home today would be perfect. I laughed out loud at the new thought in my head. My stomach grumbled; I still hadn't had breakfast. I jumped off my bed and headed for the door. As soon as my hand touched the silver door handle encrusted with a glistening blood red ruby, my ears detected the crunching sound of gravel as tyre's ran over it. I froze; maybe I would wait a while for breakfast. Or just call one of the servants up once they've arrived. I walked slowly to my window, staring at my parents getting out of the very valuble limo. I didn''t know what she looked like; or what her name was. But for some reason I pictured a very nerdy looking girl. I snorted, probably one of those computer club geeks. Round glasses, black eyes, brown hair, goofy laugh, tucked in shirt, backpack, part of the chess team and of course, very embarrassing to be out in public with. Well, it wasn't like I'd be seen with her, anyway. Nor would my parents, if they had any respect for themselves or me. Jeff opened the door for her before going to the trunk and retrieving her suitcases. She stepped out slowly. My imaginative thoughts about her earlier had been completely wrong. It was a good job she couldn't see me staring at her; my window was made of special glass that allowed me too see through in pefect quality but for no outsiders to see in without a lot of blurring fuzziness, my mouth was haning open in shock. Brunette hair down to her waist, slim figure. Wow. She was the most beautifullest person I had ever seen in my entire life. And I'd seen a lot of beautiful women before; but none as pretty as her. I watched her walk gracefully, even though she stumbled on some of the gravel, and insist on carrying her suitcase along with the backpack on her back. She obviously didn't like to be taken care of. An independent woman. Just my type. I went and lay on my bed, staring at the cieling, picturing her face in my mind. I didn't manage to see what colour her eyes were, but I figured they must either be green, or brown. Either one was pretty. I could hear someone coming up the stairs. I held my breath as the foot steps neared my room; hoping it would be the girl. They knocked on the door. My voice just managed to say the words 'come in'. I was nearly hyperventilating, and I was actually glad when it turned out to be Hermes, our main waiter. I sat up and faced him when I saw who it was, hoping my face didn't look too disturbed.
"Master Malfoy, sir, your mother and father are waiting for you down stairs in the hall." He said, bowing before backing out of my room and shutting the door behind him. I heard his hurried foot steps go all the way back down the stairs and into the kitchen. I sighed and stood up, checking my reflection in the mirror, I didn't want to look scruffy for the first meeting. I smirked; I wasn't going to g all mushy over her, I would play hard to get, maybe with a few very subtle hints...
I looked over the top of the grand stairs before actually going down. The first thing I noticed was the out-of-place looking raincoat; a light blue in with my mothers and fathers black coats on our ancient coat hanger, property of my late great great great great great grandfather. Her brown hair was almost straight, reaching her waist, and curling into itself at the end, almost as if trying to protect itself. Her baby pink wooly top clung to her slim figure, her faded jeanes held up by a thin dark blue belt. She was looking down at her shoes, a pair of red Converse, biting her lip. I walked slowly down the stair case, she looked up at me briefly before resuming her I'm-nervous-and-really-don't-want-to-be-here stance. I raised my eyebrows at my father, he shrugged. Mother was the first to speak,
"Draco, this Isabella," She glanced at my mother when she said her name, and and my mum seemed to smile apologetically. "Sorry, who prefers to be simply called Bella. Bella, this is my son Draco." I nodded at her, and she looked at me fearfully, avoiding my eyes. I saw that they were a beautiful chocolate colour. I wondered what was going on in her head. I imagined that there was a lot of questons, like- "What am I doing here?" and "What should I do?". I gave her a look which I hoped to be reassuring, and a little bit of kindness, but judging by the reaction on her face, it came out quite the opposite; hard, cold and unfeeling. I'd never been one to show my emotions to people. Especially not girls. Father cleared his throat before speaking;
"Isabella has came from Forks, Washington, on request from her father, Charlie Swan, who is a dear old friend of mine." He glanced toward a picture of him as a young boy with a fellow child around his age, who I was guessing was Isabella's father. He had the same brown, chocolate coloured eyes as her. Mother stepped forward and placed a hand on Isabella's shoulder;
"Right, well I'll give you a tour of the house now." She nodded and followed my mother through the double doors into the kitchen. Father nodded at me before following. I turned and trudged slowly up the staircase and back into my room, flopping on my bed and sighing loudly.