Writer's Note: After much consideration, I've decided to start from scratch and revise this story completely. Something about the plot wasn't sitting right with me so I went through and made the decision to restart this story at the beginning of Ira's first year at Hogwarts. This way, we'll have a lot more detail into her backstory and her relationships with each character. The plot is going to be completely new and hopefully worth a read. I've got a lot of plans for this story now that I have a better plot line worked out. Eventually, this story will turn into an 'M' rating, so be prepared as well as for Draco/Ira goodness that will surely come about in future chapters. As always, reviews are much appreciated just as much as favorites and follows!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, but my OC's are mine.

Enjoy!

Chapter One

A gust of wind broke the air around her face, chilling the girl slightly as she clutched her jacket tighter with one arm, the other holding onto her broomstick for dear life. She didn't know what compelled her to even listen to that idiot in the first place. Couldn't he see she was shaking with nervousness even from down below? He had yet to kick off. He remained laughing and watched her while her broom dipped and swerved in odd angles.

"Malfoy!" she screamed as her broom took on a mind of its own. Before she even knew what was happening, her broom stopped moving and she plummeted to the ground, earning herself a face full of dirt and freshly cut grass.

He continued to laugh while he doubled over onto the ground beside her.

She spat on the ground and glared at the blonde haired nightmare. "This is your fault, Malfoy!" An ache settled across her face when she realized her nose had broken. "Bloody brilliant!"

Tears started to make their way down her cheeks, but she quickly wiped them away. There'd be no way in hell she'd show any weakness around Draco Malfoy. He'd only make things worse.

"You're the one that doesn't know how to fly," Draco pointed out as he picked up his own broom and helped her from the ground. "Didn't your parents teach you anything?"

"They taught me enough," she bit out while holding her bloody nose. "I'm not Rhys. I'm not interested in playing some stupid game that involves brooms and bludgers."

"That's not the only reason to learn how to fly," he said. "Merlin, Ira, I may just have to teach you myself."

Ira glared and shoved past him towards her house, meeting up with her mother and Draco's at the door.

"What happened?" Pierrette asked when she saw her daughter.

"Draco happened," Ira winced while her mother pulled her wand out. "He insisted I fly my broom even though I never learned."

Narcissa Malfoy shook her head and called her son inside. She didn't look pleased with his actions, but nonetheless Ira knew he'd be given nothing more than a slap on the wrist. That's enough punishment for someone from a prestigious family. With parents like Lucius and Narcissa, Draco rarely got in trouble.

Ira was tugged inside and set down on one of their living room sofas. Their living room was large, just like the rest of the Soares manor, and had the color scheme of white and grey. It was expensive living, but Ira couldn't complain.

Being a pureblood from a reputable family had its perks, as well as many downfalls. Though, Ira never pondered the downfalls as much as the perks. She ignored the fact that being pureblood meant that you automatically have superiority over any other wizard in the wizarding world. She didn't apply such supremacy to her own life, believing that everybody was an equal. There was nothing wrong with half-bloods or muggle-borns in Ira's eyes. However, the rest of the Soares family had different opinions.

Her mother, a Hufflepuff in her day, Pierrette Greenfeld was a respectful woman with a kind nature. Like Ira, she held the same beliefs of blood purity. After her engagement with Ira's father Sigrid Soares, things changed and he pushed his beliefs onto her. Although he wasn't as harsh a man as Lucius Malfoy, he made it a strict rule to never associate with anything below them. It was very obvious he'd been a Slytherin.

"Oi, Mum, the post is here!" Rhys' voice came from the living room's entrance.

Ira looked up to see owls flying through an open window and perching themselves on the coffee table. Two sat in front of Ira, one obviously for her older brother Rhys, and one for herself. It had to have been her acceptance letter into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a school she'd be attending in the fall.

Draco came back in and flopped down beside Ira, glancing over her shoulder at the envelope in her hands and scoffed. "I got mine ages ago."

Ira rolled her eyes and removed the wax seal.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Ms Soares,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Draco made a move to take the letter from her hands to read it for himself, but Ira shoved him away and watched as his face contorted into a menacing glare.

"Children, please," Pierrette scolded after shooing away the owls. "Well, Rhys?"

Rhys, with a frown, threw his letter into the fireplace. "I didn't get Head Boy."

For his last year at Hogwarts, Rhys was hoping to get Head Boy. He was a prefect, though, with excellent grades and an almost-perfect record. He was a Slytherin like his father that had a knack for charms and quite the arm for his position in Quidditch. He was someone to look up to, but Ira didn't. Her and Rhys didn't have a picture-perfect relationship. They had many differences and fought more than anything.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Pierrette said and hugged her son. "Being Head Boy isn't all it's made out to be, trust me."

While Pierrette coaxed Rhys and ushered Narcissa into the kitchen with them both, Ira and Draco were left to stare at each other with an equal amount of hatred for one another. Although they've known each other since they were toddlers, the two never got along. They tried at one time or another to put their differences aside and be friends, but it was never something solid. It was like they were destined to be enemies. Draco was just a bully, and Ira was always his target.

Quirking a brow, Ira narrowed her eyes. "You're a pest."

"Likewise."

"Ugh," she groaned and threw a pillow at his face. "Why are you even here?"

"Father wanted to talk business with yours," he said and threw the pillow back. "So, what house do you think you'll be sorted into?"

"Well, I know yours will be Slytherin."

Draco smirked. "You're smart sometimes, Soares. Perhaps you'll be a Ravenclaw."

Ira hadn't put much thought into it. She didn't know where she may be placed. She hoped it wasn't Slytherin, that'd be an absolute nightmare.

"But sometimes you're such a dolt you may just be a Hufflepuff," Draco shrugged casually.

Ira shrieked. "I'm not as halfwitted as you!"

"On the contrary-"

"What is with all the yelling?" Sigrid finally made his appearance with Lucius at his side. His voice was calm, looking between Ira and Draco as if waiting for an answer.

Lucius, instead, sneered, pointing at his son with his cane. "Draco, we're leaving. Come, now."

In a huff, the blonde haired boy rose from the couch and met up with his father who appeared unhappy while muttering words with Ira's father. Ira knew whatever was being said wasn't positive.

Pierrette appeared once again with Narcissa, the two laughing over something with a gleam in their eyes.

"Maybe we can go shopping for school supplies together?" Pierrette questioned the other woman.

"That'd be lovely."

As soon as the Malfoy's left, the house went back to being eerily quiet. That's usually how it was at the Soares residence. It was a calm environment. Other times, but very rarely, Ira and Rhys always got under each other's skin and caused commotion. And usually their little sister Freya, who was only six years old and at the moment, was at their grandmother's house, made too much ruckus around their home.

While Pierrette tended to work in her crafts room and Sigrid walked to his office, Ira was left to sit with her Hogwarts letter clutched firmly in her hand.

"It's not an ideality that's worth discussion, Sigrid," Pierrette argued. "I can't believe this is what you've been working on with Lucius!"

Ira tiptoed towards the kitchen in nothing but her nightgown and slippers, keeping quiet just in case she got in trouble for being out of bed so late. It was nearing eleven at night and shouting had woken her. Before she walked down the stairs, she realized that Rhys was sound asleep. Rolling her eyes and closing his door, she realized he could sleep through anything.

Now, standing mere inches away from their extravagant kitchen around a corner, she listened closely to her parents' conversation.

Sigrid heaved a sigh. "Pierrette, you know that Lucius and I have been allies, as well as mates, for several years now, even before I took an interest in you during our school years. We've been talking about this among other matters for a long time. It was going to happen sooner or later."

"Well, I didn't expect you to still be interested," she spat with as much venom as she could manage. Pierrette was a soft-spoken woman and hardly ever raised her voice. There wasn't a bad bone in her body. This tone made Ira cringe. Clearly their conversation was over controversial matters.

There was a pause, and Ira imagined her father pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Darling, you know that even if I wasn't interested, I'd still have no choice. This will be the best thing for our family, you'll see."

"How can you say such a thing? I will not stand by and let you do this!"

The sound of a fist against a table made Ira jump. "It's already finalized, Pierrette. There's nothing that can reverse what's been done."

Pierrette let out something close to a whimper. "You promised me you wouldn't bring any Dark magic into this family. You made a promise not only to me but to our children. And now you want to go back on that and allow them to be in the presence of it? I don't favor any sides, Sigrid, but the Light is where I'll stand if I have to."

"I don't think you have a choice."

"To Hell with that! Everybody is entitled to a choice. I will not stand by your decision to be a…wizard of revolting standards." Pierrette sounded like she meant to say something else besides a 'wizard of revolting standards' as she put it, but obviously refrained and thought against it.

Taking a moment, Ira heard shuffling of feet and could hear Pierrette cry softly into something; possibly her father's chest.

"There's something else that might change your mind…Ira."

Pierrette sniffled. "What about her?"

"She has something that makes her…special, as he puts it. What it is, I have no clue of. But if you want our daughter as well as Freya and Rhys to be safe, you have to understand that this choice will be valuable in the long run."

"Ira can't know of this," Pierrette stammered.

"And she won't…not until it's her time to cater to her own duties."

"What are you saying?" the bitter tone was back once more. "That she'll become one of you, one of them?"

Ira didn't understand what they were talking about. Who was 'he' and who was 'them'? Letting out a yawn, she figured it might as well be time to get some well-deserved sleep. After the day she's had and this new piece of information about herself, Ira knew that sleep would be something between easy and hard to get.

She traipsed upstairs quietly and into her bedroom without so much of a sound. After sliding beneath her comforter into the warmness of her bed, her thoughts were on overdrive, but sleep was weighing heavily on her conscience.