Like I said, the next chapter. A fight, a little chat with Malfoy, and a dash of intelligent thinking. You've really gotta read between the lines, everyone!

Chapter 7: The Inevitable

Six o'clock sharp the next morning, I awoke to the sounds of twittering birds outside the open window. The autumn air was cool and fresh, but in no way cold. I was beginning to love Hogwarts already, even more than I had before.

"Good morning," I smiled to no one in particular. Lucky enough for me, no one else in the room had a pet, so there were no other sounds besides the birds outside. It had not been so at home. Our pets were great, both in number and diversity. It got kind of tiring to always hear at least one animal voice every second of every day, though.

"No pet birds," I said to myself, getting dressed at a leisurely pace. "No cats. No dogs. No rodents. No chickens. Not even any owls or toads. This place is great."

Then, with a deep sinking feeling, I remembered what my first class of the day was. The ax was raised, the neck of happiness poised, ready. With a slice, my good mood was destroyed.

Potions. Snape. Malfoy.

Ugh.

Once dressed, I opened the curtains of my bed and saw that Hermione was up, too.

"I didn't wake you up, did I?" I asked her. Yesterday, she had joined me at the table downstairs after about half an hour, where I had been reading the book she had finished. Of course, that book was Hogwarts, A History. I learned more and more about my new school with each page I turned.

"Yes, but I was planning on it anyway," she smiled. "I set a charm to wake me up at ten till five, but I went back to sleep."
"Oh. Why?"

"I wanted to come downstairs with you today," she smiled, packing up her schoolbag with the things she would need in Potions and Charms, our second class. With a nod, I silently started putting together my things, as well.

"It's too bad about Professor Quirrell," I said casually. I hoped to get her opinion on the matter. "I heard he was a good teacher."
"Really?" she slung her bag over her right shoulder. "I heard he was a terrible coward. Of course, that's only what I've been told by the students. I wouldn't know."
"I noticed that Professor McGonagall had taken it pretty hard," I winced at the memory. Just thinking about her face sent a chill of pity down my spine. "She looked pretty sad to me."
"Yeah...I remember her back at Diagon Alley, I suppose you're right."

"Well, we'd best get downstairs for breakfast. We can read some more there," I cocked my head to the side and grinned.

***

When my brother came downstairs at eight fifteen, groggy and grumpy, I patted him on the back with a grin.
"Great job, babe," I told him. "Now you won't chance being late."

"Yeah, yeah," he murmured. "Why'd I even agree to this?"
"Hey, you wanted to come just as much as I did, baby. And you'd be waking up much earlier had we remained, if you can't recall," I preached. I knew I was preaching, I sounded a lot like our Bishop, but I can tell you that he wasn't happy.

"Just because I wanted to come does not mean this was all the best idea!"

"What do you mean? Aeolus gave us permission-"
"I don't care what Aeolus said!"

"David-"
"I'm going back to bed," he got up to go.
"David, we've got half an hour before class starts and you haven't eaten any-"
He slammed his palms on the table on either side of my plate, eyes ablaze. David was scarier than I'd ever seen him before.

"You are not my mother. Stop trying to be."

With that, he stomped out of the room, all eyes following his retreating back. None more intensely than mine. I had worse problems than my brother being a baby again, though. The next person through the door was none other than Draco Malfoy.

"I suppose brothers can be awful at times," I heard him say to the other Slytherins. He was looking straight at me the whole time. Silently, I perfectly agreed with him.

"Angel, are you all right?" Hermione asked apprehensively. "Do you think David is?"

"He's just being a little baby again," I answered, turning back to my book. "I'm sorry you had to see that, Hermione."

She only nodded.

***

At precisely eight forty-five, Hermione and I headed toward Potions. Ron and Harry had obviously heard all about the fight between David and I, because they were ignoring us both. The three of them sat in the farthest corner of the back of the room. Hermione and I were front row, center.

Unfortunately, I had completely forgotten one slight thing about Potions. Griffindor and Slytherin took this class together.

"Brilliant, little angel," said the dream. He slid into the seat beside me, his cronies sinking on the end. My face flushed pink and I attempted to keep myself in order.

"What?" I asked stiffly.

He merely smiled. Oh, how much I wanted him to smile again. With a jerk of my head, I remembered where I was. Sure enough, it was only a second later that Snape burst into the dungeon, his black hair and robes flowing behind him.
"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations..."
He began his speech. I studied him closely, taking in the fact that he looked a lot like my father. A really pale, black-haired version of him, anyway. He had the same kind of large, beaky nose; the small, slit-like eyes whose color were indefinable; the furrowed brow and defined eyebrows; the only difference was his hair.
Let's just put it this way: Snape should really wash his hair more often.

"...new celebrity..."

I only caught whispers of his conversation with Harry. He seemed totally focused on embarrassing him. Hermione continuously raised her hand, wanting to answer. I merely wrote the answers down that I heard, waiting for him to say another noteworthy thing.

Paying more attention than even myself or Hermione was Draco Malfoy. He seemed determined to please Snape, something I had really never thought about. If you think about it, Rowling's books only concentrated on his evil and malicious attributes, like his hate for Harry and being spoiled by his father.

What about his grades, though? Although Malfoy was one of the main "bad guys" in the books, his character was never fully explained. To us, he was supposed to be just a two dimensional character, one full of hate and anger. However, I think there may, just may, mind you, be a person in there. Maybe even a nice person, as far-fetched as that may seem.

"So, you're a Muggle-born," whispered Malfoy.

"Yes."
"I suppose it is one of the inevitable, then," he sighed and sank back in his chair, coming back up to write something else.
"What do you mean?" I asked suspiciously, also taking note. "It's not as though it matters."
"I should think you are ignorant. No one as beautiful could be stupid."

I blushed, "I'm not beautiful."
He frowned delicately. No frown belonged on that face.

"You believe that?"

"Yes."
He was silent.

Now he had me thinking. I had never been a very pretty girl. Whenever someone told me I had something special, I knew it was my ability to see things for what they were, in art, and not for my physical beauty.

"You are too beautiful."

Now he was confusing me. I hated being confused. More than anything else in the world, I hated being confused. It had happened too much, too often. I guess Malfoy was right. It was the inevitable.

***

Now, I know there have only been a few people reading this, but if you are and just haven't been reviewing, please leave a short notice. If you're signed in, I'll check out your stories, too! I love doing that...Oh, well.

David says: "Thanks, everybody! This is really cool."
I say the same. You guys are wonderful to myself and my little brother. Thanks!