Yay! It's up, it's up! This is my baby. My child. Seed of Novalee.It is the longest thing I have ever written. It goes all the way up to current continuity.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. No-frickin'-duh. Draco is not mine and quite a bit of the world and events that I describe don't either. Any plotlines that you do not recognize, as well as new characters, are property of me, so HAH! ... Anyway, don't sue me, because that would be mean and unprofitable for you, as I spend all of my money on food and manga, anyway.

Author Note: I collect quotes. They're on my computer, written on my bedroom mirror, and pasted all over my binders. With all of this exposure, it's no wonder that a few of them will make it into this fic. If you recognize something, it probably doesn't belong to me. If you don't, it's fair game.

Well, that's all I've got to say! On to the fic! This is PoV! Enjoy!


A new point of view

A walk in your shoes

I wish I could get inside your head

To see what you see

When you look at me

Cause I could've lived your life instead

-Instead, Stacie Orrico


Wednesday, July 24, 1991: Ministry of Magic

My father said he would "reward me" when my Hogwarts letter arrived. As expected, it came yesterday. So, I'm thinking racing broom. That's what normal parents get their children, right? Brooms or new robes or pets, those are good presents.

But no.

Apparently my father's idea of a reward is taking me to work with him.

I am going to die.

I've been sitting on the same bench for hours, listening to these people drone on and on. They are talking about bills. Bills! Do you know how boring that is? I think my ears are bleeding.

And Mum's gift wasn't much better. A journal? Please. It isn't even one of those killer journals, like Father had when he was my age. When someone tried to read it, it screamed like a banshee and petrified them. Some types will even take off an arm! Now, that is a cool gift.

Oh well, at least she didn't give me bloody parliament.

Still Wednesday

I leaned over and asked Father why I had to come. He said I should start learning about my future career now. He intends to work me into the ministry as soon as I graduate. I thought about telling him that I would rather skewer myself through the temple and die a horrible, bloody death, but I didn't think that would sit too well with him.

Hmm… Another man just came in. His son looks about my age. Maybe he brought chocolate or a book or something.

Still Wednesday, Yes Still

That went well. What a rude person! That boy's name is Theodore Nott, and I hope he ends up in Hufflepuff. So I went over to talk to him, right? I had to duck behind pews to get over there and when I sat down next to him he just ignored me. I poked him in the arm and hissed an introduction.

Me: Psst! Hey!

Nott: (looks at me blankly)

Me: Are you going to Hogwarts?

Nott: (nod)

Me: So am I. My name's Draco Malfoy. That's my father speaking. He's the head of the Department of Mysteries.

Nott: Theodore Nott. (points) That's my dad. He's the head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. He's got a much bigger department than your dad.

Me: Oh.

At this point I am still trying to salvage the conversation.

Me: Father made me come. This is supposed to be my reward for getting into Hogwarts. Isn't that pathetic?

Nott: Do you think so? I suppose if it's over your head… My Father gave me a racing broom.

Me: Oh.

This isn't working. Let us try a different approach.

Me: You know, when I'm older, I'll be head of a Department. We have connections, you know. Straight up to Fudge. Is this your first session?

Nott: No, I always come here. Father doesn't like me to be home alone with the aurors about.

Me: Why-

Nott: My mum's dead.

Me: Umm…

Gee, thanks for sharing.

Me: That's… too bad.

Nott: Isn't it though. Now be quiet. I'm trying to hear this. If you don't understand, why don't you just go draw or something?

So I left. What is this Theodore Nott's problem, anyway? If he ends up in Slytherin, I am transferring to Durmstrang. I don't care if Mum thinks it's too far away, I refuse to share a house with people like that.

My legs have fallen asleep.

Thursday, July 25: Malfoy Mansion

Pansy's parents got her a Nimbus 2000. That's right, a racing broom. She showed up on my front step today with it slung over her shoulder, wanting me to come play Quidditch with her. I told her that I could not drag myself outside as I was weighted down with shame.

She kicked me. It hurts still.

So I took my sad, pathetic Comet 260, stumbling because of the sharp pangs of humiliation and my aching leg. Pansy and I were on a team with Millicent Bulstrode and some others. We kicked the Patil twins' butts. Hah! I could beat them on any broom. Die, pathetic fools! I still want a racing broom, though.

I shall hatch an evil scheme to force my parents to buy me one. Maybe if I fell of the turret... I wonder how much this would hurt.

Friday, July 26

So much for that plan. Crabbe and Goyle came over today. I took them with me to the turret to plan out my diabolical scheme. Unfortunately, I forgot exactly whom I was dealing with.

The minute we stepped out, Goyle went pitching off the side. He then fell eleven stories to the ground below. Shattered every bone in his body.

Okay, ouch. That's got to hurt.

They say it will take at least two weeks to grow them all back. I will have to think up another plan because there's no way I'm spending two weeks healing. That's forever!

Sunday, July 28

You'd think waiting to go to Hogwarts would be exciting. But all I can seem to do is lay around and stare at the ceiling, hoping desperately that someone will come over. No one has, so far.

I read Hogwarts: A History. It was good, but I just wanted to leave sooner after finishing it. Also finished a book called He Flew Like a Madman, about "Dangerous" Dai Llewellyn, and read Gilderoy Lockhart's biography. For some reason, Magical Me reminded me of that boy, Theodore Nott. I don't think I like Lockhart…

It's pretty sad that I've just read all summer. I could have learned new moves on my broom. I might have written a novel and become famous! Then, when I was called up for sorting, everyone would gasp when they learned who I was. After all, I look so normal! Then, applause would spread through the room. Soon they would stand, welcoming me to the Slytherin table and awarding me the position of Seeker, an honor never before bestowed on a first year. They would worship me.

Pansy just leaned over my shoulder and told me that I have an overactive imagination and possibly need help. I didn't even hear her come in. She wants to go into town for sweets. I don't really feel like it, but I suppose it's better than wallowing in my misery all day.

Monday, July 29

We're going to Diagon Alley tomorrow. Finally, I'm moving forward. On to Hogwarts! Actually, I still have 32 days left until I leave. Darn it! I have got to get out of this Mansion house.

Tuesday, July 30: In Route to Malfoy Mansion

Maybe Pansy's right. Maybe it is me. So far, every Hogwarts student I've met hates me. Was it something I said, perhaps?

Father and Mother took me for school supplies today, as promised. Of course, as soon as we got there Mum wandered off to "socialize a bit" and Father went to buy my books. At least that's what he said he was doing. I dunno, he probably went to Knockturn Alley.

So, promising to meet me at Ollivander's wand shop, they left their ten-year-old son with a bag of gold and a shopping list. Thanks heaps, guys.

When I was in Madam Malkin's trying on robes, this boy came in and stood next to me. He looked a little funny, with hair sticking up all over the place and taped up glasses, but I didn't tell him that, of course. I decided to introduce myself.

Me: Hullo. Hogwarts too?

Boy: Yes.

Me: My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands.

I told him all about my plan to acquire a racing broom and get it into school, somehow. I asked him if he had his own broom and he said no. Then I asked him if he played Quidditch.

Boy: No.

Me: I do - Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?

Boy: No.

Me: (wondering if he will say anything other than "yes" and "no") Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been - imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?

Boy: Mmm.

This isn't going too well. Must find something to talk about, must come up with something. Then I saw this enormous man outside the window. And if there's one thing I know, it's that collective insults are a wonderful icebreaker.

Me: I say, look at that man!

Boy: (sounding rather smug) That's Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts.

Then I remembered. Father had told me about him. He's half giant, you know, and, apparently, not too bright.

Me: Oh, I've heard of him. He's some sort of servant, isn't he?

Boy: (touchily) He's the gamekeeper.

There's a difference?

Me: Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage - lives in a hut in the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic and ends up setting fire to his bed.

Boy: (icy glare) I think he's brilliant.

Me: Do you? Why is he with you? Where are your parents?

Boy: They're dead.

What is it lately? People are dropping like flies! Is it something in the water?

Me: (not sure what to say) Oh, sorry. But they were our kind, weren't they?

Boy: They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean.

Oh, good, a subject change.

Me: I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families.

Boy: …

Me: What's your surname, anyway?

But I never got to find out, as his fitting was done. He actually seemed grateful to get away from me. Like I was contagious!

Me: Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose.

Boy: …

I'm not sure what it is. This bespectacled boy hates me as much as Nott does! Really, did I say something wrong? I don't think so. It was all just small talk, I think. Merlin, I need help. I guess it'll be better when I'm in Slytherin with the others.

Father wasn't in Flourish & Blotts, when I checked.

Shocker.

Still no racing broom.

Tuesday, August 6: Malfoy Mansion

I'm bored out of my brains. We're going tomorrow to see my Great-Aunt Adeline. I don't like her. She calls me Sherisse and talks about "those Ravenclaw guys we met in Hogsmeade last weekend". It's scary.

I'm reading all of my textbooks. It's official. I'm desperate.

25 days 'till Hogwarts.

Thursday, August 8: Saint Mungo's

This place smells funny. Why ever am I in St. Mungo's Hospital, you ask? Well, you see, when Great-Aunt Adeline saw Father coming, she threw herself out a fourth story window, screaming that he could not keep her from her true love. This wouldn't have been a problem, but Adeline has a wonderful collection of bubotuber and venomous tentacula planted below her window. Turns out, boils and vicious, spiky vines don't mix.

I went by the Dai Llewellyn Ward (since I've read his biography, you know). Stared at the ailing until the staff kicked me out. Maybe I'll write Crabbe… Do you think he could read it?

23 days 'till Hogwarts.

Monday, August 12

Pansy always knows how to cheer me up. She showed up at St. Mungo's today, with a large bag full of dungbombs. We tossed them into the Chauncey Oldridge wing, and watched as all the occupants screamed and ran out. We chuckled heartily at their expense.

Wednesday, August 14: Malfoy Mansion, At Last

Finally, I'm home! St. Mungo's was torture! It smells much better here. Adeline kissed the air by both my cheeks, slipped me a gaudy, purple ring, and whispered "Remember Sherisse, the Phoenix rises at midnight." I guess that means she'll be fine.

17 days 'till Hogwarts.

Monday, August 26

Starting to get cold feet. What if I get to school and everybody's like Theodore Nott and the bespectacled boy. What if the only people who like me are Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle? And Crabbe and Goyle only like me because I feed them! Or what if I put the Sorting Hat on my head and it puts me in Hufflepuff?

I don't think this is a good idea. I want to go to Durmstrang. Maybe it's not too late?

Still Monday

No go. Mum says Durmstrang too far from home. I asked her why it matters how far away I am, it's not like she can visit me. I'm grounded, which I don't think is fair. Then again, I did fly into a fit of rage, called her a controlling, inhuman, old bag. But, really!

5 days 'till Hogwarts

Saturday, August 31

Would you believe it? I've just heard that Harry Potter is going to Hogwarts! Why is it that Pansy always knows things before I do? I feel slighted.

Anyway, Harry Potter is the person who defeated the Dark Lord ten years ago. Would you believe he's only my age? No one knows how he did it, but when You-Know-Who cast the Killing Curse on him, it backfired." That left Harry Potter with a lightning bolt scar and You-Know-Who almost dead.

So you see, he was the reason my father almost ended up in Azkaban. All of the deatheaters were rounded up and tried. Father and a few others convinced them that they were under the Imperius Curse, being controlled. Were they really? I don't know. For all of Father's hatred towards muggles, I wouldn't be surprised if he was a deatheater.

But the important thing is, this super-important wizard is in my year. I think I'd like to meet him. Maybe he'll be in Slytherin! Then I can still be famous, even if I never wrote that novel.

Hogwarts tomorrow.

Sunday, September 1: In Route from Platform 9 ¾

Well, that's fabulous. Just fabulous. Make enemies with the greatest wizard of our time, why don't you? That's real smart, Draco.

So here's what happened: My day started of great. For once, I woke up on time. I should have suspected right then, of course. After all, when things begin to go right for me, it usually means all hell's about to break loose.The house elves loaded all of my bags into the carriage, I packed up the eagle owl that Great-Aunt Adeline sent me, and we were off. Father came, which, I must admit, made me happy. I thought he'd forget, for some reason.

After I said goodbye to Father and Mum, I caught up with Crabbe and Goyle. I was listening to them grunt on to eachotherabout sea-monkeys when Pansy, the Patil twins, and some other girls came bursting into my compartment, squealing unintelligibly about Harry Potter being down the train.

Being the wide-eyed, curious tyke that I am, I just had to see him. Flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, I began my quest. But, when I finally found him, I was in for a surprise. Here's how my formal introduction to the most powerful person in a thousand years went.

Me: Is it true? They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment.

Would you believe, it was the bespectacled boy? The inexplicably rude one, from Diagon Alley. Curse my luck.

Me: So it's you, is it?

Potter: Yes.

Oh, wonderful. Let's start this again. He stared behind me.

Me: Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle. And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.

Then the redhead behind him sniggered quite loudly. Which I think is incredibly rude. My name is Latin for dragon or serpent. It is a very regal name. He is named after a rodent. I can see why my father hates his family.

Me: Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasley's have red hair, freckles and more children than they can afford.

So there!

Me: You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.

So I held out my hand for him to shake. He just looked at it and said coldly, "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks."

Oh, like I'm the wrong sort! He doesn't know anything. Nothing at all! Did you know he was raised by muggles? No wonder he can't play Quidditch. He's probably never heard of it!

Me: I'd be careful if I were you, Potter. Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riff-raff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid and it'll rub off on you.

The parents comment was, I admit, a little bit mean. But he didn't seem exactly torn up about it when he told me they were dead, now, did he? That's what happened. They messed with You-Know-Who. My father told me.

Weasley: (jumping up) Say that again.

Me: Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?
Potter: Unless you get out now.

Of course, I refused and set Crabbe and Goyle on their food. Someone's rat bit Goyle's finger and he swung it round 'till it flew off and hit a window. I figured that was my cue to go. Why was I excited about Hogwarts again?

Still Saturday: Hogwarts Great Hall

Well, I just got sorted. Slytherin! Crabbe and Goyle, too. I think Pansy will make it in, if only because I can't imagine her in any of the other houses. She is in no way chivalrous, just, or wise. Cunning? You'd better believe it.

Had a sudden urge to throw things at Potter while he waited. Was only restrained by Professor McGonagall walking by. She's head of the Gryffindor house and looks as if she has been sucking on a lemon for a couple centuries.

The Bloody Baron, who is, in fact, covered in silver blood and rather creepy, is breathing over my shoulder. Not breathing, exactly, as he's a ghost, but hovering. Blue mist is seeping through my cloak and it isn't at all pleasant. Sends cold shivers up my spine.

Uhhoh. "Parkinson, Pansy". Let's cross our fingers, shall we?

Oh, yes, and to make my perfect day complete, guess who else was sorted into Slytherin. Oh, you know, the same person who will share a dorm room with me for the next seven years! Why Theodore Nott, that's who.

I am so going to Durmstrang.