She's No Barbie Girl

Chapter one: Charmed

There she was. I had no idea exactly whoshe was, at first. Only what Dumbledore was introducing to the Potions class. Pity she didn't come in the beginning of the year, she'd have to catch up with all of our lessons. To my surprise, I couldn't help but watch her intently. Even Snape had looked up from his desk with slight interest, and a suspicion, I suppose. Matter of fact, with deep mistrust. But he was just an old fool, anyways.

She was confident; from the way she stood at the front of the room, leaning her weight to one side, her haughty little smile. A smirk I love to remember. She glanced around the room, taking us all in, us Slytherins on one side, the Gryffindors on the other. In an instant, I felt her gaze on mine, and I looked into large, piercing, violet colored eyes. For some reason, I couldn't break my gaze away from her; it was painfully intense, like she knew me somehow. Knew all about me. She was definitely a very...attractive girl, to say the least, but there was something more...something I wasn't exactly sure about just then. And even now, I find it hard to call back to memory; it's a painstaking bloody process.

Snap out of it DracoI thought to myself. After all, it was a just a new Slytherin girl. Nothing special at all, right?

Her name was Rhianna (Rhia) Ashcroft, that I knew. And as soon as Dumbledore mentioned her last name, I knew a bit more about her. She was the new Minister of Magic's daughter, or something. She had to be. Come to think of it, she looked a bit more like him than I thought. Apparently, the public was pissed off at Cornelius Fudge and the whole… Department of Mysteries affair two years back. The one that landed my father in Azkaban. Of course he got out, though, how can you set blame to a Malfoy? Anyway, they elected Avery Ashcroft the new minister about a few months ago. Odd though, I never knew he had a daughter until then.

She was tall, but still at least a good 6 inches shorter than me. She was skinny too, almost too skinny, with a dainty model figure. Her eyes were those large violet colored ones I caught myself staring at so many times. She had long dark brown, black looking hair, and skin so pale, it was like porcelain. She was like, one of those china dolls at first site, just sitting pretty for all to see. It was sort of an… angelic appearance. But not, all cheery innocence, know what I mean? It was darker… deeper… and just overall… foreboding. But I was incredibly tempted. What the bloody hell was wrong with me?

I listened as Dumbledore interrogated her, things like, "Where are you joining us from?" and "How do you feel about being the daughter of a very influential man?" and a load of other rubbish that had everyone hanging on her every word. From what I thought, the rest of the class liked her well enough. Everyone but Potter and the Mudblood were listening contently. I saw Granger pass him a note, something like "such a fake" or whatever. Bloody wasn't my problem they had issues. Maybe I should have heeded their first impression of Rhia, but I didn't. I couldn't bring myself to. How could they say that? A fake? They didn't even talk to her yet! I mean, after all, they call me a blasted git. They must be insane. Rather, looking back now, I was insane. Taking to her like a lost puppy, and she hadn't even been in the room for 20 minutes.

"Mister Malfoy? Care to answer our inquiry?" I snapped back to attention, looking up now, not into the face of a pretty Slytherin, but into the face of a nasty old haggard one. Professor Snape. He was giving me that look he gave the Gryffindors, sodding great.

"Yes, sir?" I answered quickly, sitting up straighter, and making eye contact with him - a calm, purposeful gaze of a student eager to learn.

"Since, as it is most evident, the only vacant seat is the one next to you at the moment, would you mind letting Miss. Ashcroft take it?" He said rather boredly as Dumbledore left. Looking to my right, there was in fact an empty seat. Goyle was gone for the day; too much food I suppose, and Crabbe had made a "girlfriend" out of Millicent Bullstrode, if you could call her a girl.

"Of course, sir." I answered with a nod of my head, turning back to the front of the classroom. I didn't care really, and of course, how would it look if I said no to the minister's daughter? Father would be disgraced. Thinking of father, he'd gotten more and more intense in trying to get me to join his master's ranks, and to be exactly like him. I didn't get the point, why waste your life away on someone else? He could have been so much more if he didn't devote himself to the Dark Lord. Not to mention, I planned to do something entirely different, and I wanted to kill Potter of my own accord.

I didn't say anything while Rhia made herself comfortable in the seat next to me, and Snape went on about the next potion we were making to alter some psychical characteristic or something. I watched Rhia out of the corner of my eye subtly, and I noticed others were as well.

She had this mysterious look of innocence about her. Sort of like, it just made you want to get to know her. More like made you feel like you had to, I couldn't place it; perhaps she just looked easy to connect to. She couldn't possibly be that easy to relate to, after all, she seemed so… just so different. I thought I saw a glimmer of what looked like sadness or something behind those violet eyes of hers, but I must've been mistaken. There I was, rambling about this girl like I knew her, and I barely just laid eyes on her. I couldn't help it, and I also couldn't stop staring.

Rhia must've sensed me staring, for she turned to me, her head quirked to one side, with an arched eyebrow. She had a slightly amused smile on her face, and it seemed she liked the attention.

"Yes?" she asked quietly, as to not be caught by Snape. Her tone of voice was definitely soprano, and had a musical quality to it, just like her posture. Perfect. I remember it all too well, perfectly straight, legs crossed, "attentive" gaze, and she just seemed like one of those bloody perfect muggle dolls… "Barblie," or something. Almost too fake to be true.

"Nothing," I answered simply, shrugging. She sized me up, observing me, evaluating me. Is this what I had been doing? I felt like an open spell book, that she could read me and know everything.

"Don't I know you?" Rhia finally asked me.

"Huh?" I answered, perplexed, "I don't suppose you do..."

She thought for a few moments more. Apparently, as I had come to know, she wasn't the brightest witch when it came to book-smarts or memory, or anything to do with school for that matter.

"Oh, it must've been someone who looked like you. What's your name?" she asked, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger as she spoke - it's odd how many times I actually remember her doing that. Her small quirky habits, everyone had them, but I couldn't help noticing Rhia's. I was a lovesick puppy then, caught up in her illusion, her little game.

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy," I said simply, extending a hand. She didn't take it. Rather, Rhia's face lit up like she had just won a prize for some great honor.

"I knew it! I met a Malfoy, and he looked like you," she exclaimed quietly, a bit air-headed in her tone. I raised an eyebrow at her, trying to put two and two together. Ah, minister's daughter... Malfoy... no doubt it was Lucius. I hated my bastard of a father with such a passion, it would have been so much better had he still been in Azkaban. He wanted to run my whole bloody life. Control it. It just wasn't fair. My father's words echoed throughout my mind, You're not half the man I'd hoped you'd be, Draco. Too bloody effing bad. It wasn't fair how others saw me. It was all because of who father was. I just wanted to start over someplace, someplace new and free of father's shadow. Somehow, I doubt I ever will be.

"Was his name Lucius Malfoy?" I asked, a small sigh emitting my throat. She nodded.

"That would be my father..." A strange silence fell over us for a few moments. It was odd, like she knew something but wasn't about to tell me. Rhia stared at me, it was like I was catching fire from her gaze. Her violet eyes were void of all emotion, and seemed glass-like - I think she was hiding something then, the very thing I wouldn't have known until some time later.

"You look very much like him," she finally spoke, her haunting gaze still on me. She was starting to creep me out just a little, but I was drawn to her.

"…And that is where our similarities end." I muttered quietly, sneering. She raised her eyebrow at me.

"Are you sure? People always say that children are more like their parents than they wish to be." She answered, trying to look smarter than she actually was.

"Well, I find you wrong," I snapped as the bell rang for lunch. I may have struck a nerve, because she cut her omniscient act, and stood; now extending her French-manicured, slender hand.

"Well, it was a pleasure to meet you Mr. Malfoy, perhaps you could show me around sometime?" Rhia finally said, slinging a messenger bag with a Slytherin crest on it over her other shoulder with her free hand. I took her hand lightly, her touch sending a cold shiver up my spine.

"Charmed," I said simply, a polite smile coming to my face with a nod. Before I could get anything else out, she was off out of the class with a flourish of long, dark hair, making conversation with some girls our age in Slytherin. I stayed where I was, slowly packing up my things. I replied 'charmed'? Charmed I was. She seemed so… enchanting… so different… If I'd only had known at that moment what was about to unfold, things would be entirely different this day and age.