1 Part 4
The instant upon reaching her room, Star allowed Draco one brief glimpse of it before shoving him back out. "Okay, you've seen it. Now, go away," she said. But Draco brushed past her, gazing interestedly at the posters on her walls. "Who are these people?" he asked, pointing to them.
The spent about fifteen minutes in Star's room, discussing the posters and the people they showed, and during that time, Draco watched Star open a tiny bit more. (He wouldn't say she got friendlier, exactly, but rather she got less hostile.)
"Do you play Quidditch?" he asked her. Star nodded.
"Got your own broom?"
Another nod.
"Well, then, how about coming to my house tomorrow, and we'll play one-on- one?" Draco suggested. Star felt like accepting-she loved Quidditch, and she needed to practice, and this guy seemed pretty nice-
'But no,' she thought. She hated England, and she hated this house, and she hated this boy.
Once again Star donned her usual scowl, and narrowed her eyes at Draco. "I don't think so," she said coldly.
"Aww, c'mon, it'll be f-"
"I think it's time for you to go." Star snapped, cutting Draco off.
Draco studied her, insulted. "What's your problem, anyway?" he asked her, irritated. "I mean, I only want to be your friend, and all you do is insult me." Star bristled, but said nothing. Draco continued. "You should try adapting more instead of being an ugly American."
Star flew up from her chair in a rage. "'Adapting'??" Do you know how many times I've had to 'adapt'? How many times have you had to move? You have no idea what I've been through!" she shrieked. "And as for the way I treat you, no one's making you stay-in fact, I recall specifically requesting that you did not come up here. So if you don't like it, you can leave!" she pointed to the door.
Draco had had enough. He didn't need to be treated like this! "Good idea!" he snarled, and stormed out.
Star watched him go, feeling relieved, yet at the same time strangely disappointed-she didn't know why. She lay down on her bed for a long time, contemplating the recent events; unknown to her, the pale, blond boy next door was doing the exact same thing.
The instant upon reaching her room, Star allowed Draco one brief glimpse of it before shoving him back out. "Okay, you've seen it. Now, go away," she said. But Draco brushed past her, gazing interestedly at the posters on her walls. "Who are these people?" he asked, pointing to them.
The spent about fifteen minutes in Star's room, discussing the posters and the people they showed, and during that time, Draco watched Star open a tiny bit more. (He wouldn't say she got friendlier, exactly, but rather she got less hostile.)
"Do you play Quidditch?" he asked her. Star nodded.
"Got your own broom?"
Another nod.
"Well, then, how about coming to my house tomorrow, and we'll play one-on- one?" Draco suggested. Star felt like accepting-she loved Quidditch, and she needed to practice, and this guy seemed pretty nice-
'But no,' she thought. She hated England, and she hated this house, and she hated this boy.
Once again Star donned her usual scowl, and narrowed her eyes at Draco. "I don't think so," she said coldly.
"Aww, c'mon, it'll be f-"
"I think it's time for you to go." Star snapped, cutting Draco off.
Draco studied her, insulted. "What's your problem, anyway?" he asked her, irritated. "I mean, I only want to be your friend, and all you do is insult me." Star bristled, but said nothing. Draco continued. "You should try adapting more instead of being an ugly American."
Star flew up from her chair in a rage. "'Adapting'??" Do you know how many times I've had to 'adapt'? How many times have you had to move? You have no idea what I've been through!" she shrieked. "And as for the way I treat you, no one's making you stay-in fact, I recall specifically requesting that you did not come up here. So if you don't like it, you can leave!" she pointed to the door.
Draco had had enough. He didn't need to be treated like this! "Good idea!" he snarled, and stormed out.
Star watched him go, feeling relieved, yet at the same time strangely disappointed-she didn't know why. She lay down on her bed for a long time, contemplating the recent events; unknown to her, the pale, blond boy next door was doing the exact same thing.