Disclaimer: OMG! I've forgotten to do a disclaimer for like, the first FOUR chapters! I'm sorry (so, so sorry!)! Okay, I don't own Harry Potter, it belongs to JK Rowling and a bunch of other WB people and publishing people and maybe more people, but NOT me. I only claim Lucy, who is my OC. But still, please don't sue me or anything.
::AN:: Ah, DUDE! Sorry I haven't updated in like, four million years (well, it wasn't that long) but I've been busy and all that junk, you know. Anyway, I hope you like the chap and please review! (Thanks for all the reviews before, you guys! You're so nice!)
::NOTE:: I read on Mugglenet that JK Rowling has said that Draco doesn't have any siblings, but... er... whatever. I suppose that makes my story slightly AU, but really, considering my plot (that she went to Durmstrang), it's not that unbelievable, is it? So whatever, though. Just a note - my story is now slightly AU (but only because of that lil' fact, nothing else), so don't get all "Draco doesn't have a sister!" on me please, I almost cried when I read that thingie, I was all, "But... my fic..." and it was sad for a few moments until my Lean Pockets beeped in the microwave and I ate them like I was as starved as two starved things. (I'm rambling now, sorry.)
Chapter 5
Such a precious boy, with such kindness in his eyes and – oh my! Would you look at the sneer? He's perfected it since the last time I saw him sneer, which seriously must have only been less than three hours ago.
"Well, well, well," My brother said scathingly, tapping the tips of his fingers together.
Tap, tap, tappy. I'll break off his "tappy" little fingers if he keeps doing that! I swear!
"Shove off, Malfoy." Ginny hissed, standing up. "We haven't got time for you."
Tap, tap, tap.
Wait… what?! She did not just say a totally rude and uncalled for comment to my big brother! And I thought she was nice! The vixen!
"Maybe I just stopped by to say hello." My brother said calmly to the younger girl, who, might I add, was almost a whole foot shorter than him and thus, not very threatening in the physical department. Big Bro flicked his hand towards the chunky boys behind him. "Crabbe, Goyle," he said and they grunted back in unison. "Leave."
No, wee little folk! (Well, actually, they were quite the opposite of wee little folk…) Don't let the clean-pored scary blonde guy boss you around! You're better than that! You have opinions and statements of your own! Statements that need to be heard! So no more of this grunting business, you hear?!
The sad excuses for independent thinkers grunted a bit more before finally exiting the compartment. Lovely Brother turned back to Ginny and smirked. "There, now Crabbe and Goyle are gone. I am defenseless."
"You still have you're wand!" She hissed through clenched teeth as the rest of us watched on in amusement. Well, I was amused, anyway. Can't say the same about the other three, but who gives an apple pie, right?
Apple pie sounds good right now, actually.
My brother raised his eyebrow at the redheaded girl. "My wand?" He repeated, smirking. "You can remove it, if you wish. It's only in my pocket."
Hey…
Was he just – Did he just –?
Ewwww.
Stop it! Stop it! Make it STOP!
Ginny didn't seem fazed, though. She just scowled and –
Ewwww.
And quickly threw her hand forward and pushed his robes aside, pausing only briefly to grab onto something before pulling away, with my brother's wand in her hand.
"You're keen." I couldn't help but choke out in disgust. It came out as more of a laugh, though. As if I thought it was amusing. I didn't. Not anymore. That was disgusting! They were – They were –
FLIRTING!
Ginny turned to me and stared at me blankly for a few dull seconds before she calmly handed my brother's wand to her brother. "He'll break it if you don't leave now." Ginny said, turning back to Gross-Pervy-Brother-of-mine.
"Can I break it anyway, Gin?" Ron asked, glaring at my older brother.
I looked around at Hermione and Harry before gasping involuntarily. (I hate when I do that!)
They – They hate him!
Wow.
I hear quires singing Hallelujah. I hear angels sighing in relief. I hear church bells. I hear –
"Problem, Lucinda?" I glanced at my brother only to find that he was the one that had spoken to me.
Halfwit.
I blinked at him and managed an intellectual "Nnnngghh" before rolling my eyes and finally resolving to 'go with' his 'do-as-I-say' plan. "No problem. Do you have a problem?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"You know The Ferret?!" Ron exclaimed, looking back and forth from me to Draco.
Um, do you mind? I mean, yeah, I hate him too, but HEY! That's my brother you're talking about! Watch your mouth you disfigured four-eyed (wince) freak!
I mean, wait, Ron doesn't wear glasses, Harry does. Deep breaths, Lucy, deep breaths. Inhale… exhale.
"Sod off, Weasel." Brother Dearest said in a mockingly sweet way to the redheaded boy, before turning back to me and saying in a fairly normal tone, "You don't want to go getting mixed up with the wrong sort here, Luce. Come with me."
I could strangle him. Always telling me what to do like I'm some sort of child. Seriously, I'm FIFTEEN! "I'm sorry," I said coolly, "but I don't think I want your help, Drake."
You wanna make fun of my name, eh?! I'll get you back, you sick git!
And then suddenly I was back on his broom and listening to his voice point out how you could see everything much better from the sky. Back to being nine-years-old and fully attached to my now biggest-prat-of-the-century older brother.
How did I get back there, you ask?
Simple. I saw Draco smile. It was brief, but not brief enough so that it didn't reach his eyes, where it still lingered as his face turned into a scowl and he turned to Ron. "Give me my wand back, Weasel."
I leapt up from the seat. "No! You should keep it!" I said to Ron and motioned for him to hand the wand to me, which he did with a shrug.
Draco was practically fuming. He stepped closer to me. "That's it!" He hissed. "You, Miss Spawn-of-Hell, are going to regret you ever came to Hogwarts!"
I grinned. "Oh, really? Cuz I thought I already did!" I shot back at him defiantly.
Oh, I'm good.
And getting better.
"By the way," he said icily, "you need to go see Professor Dumbledore in his office before the sorting ceremony begins, instead of going to see McGonagall like you were originally told."
Ah, so that's why he showed up here… "Thanks for delivering the message." I smiled and held his wand up. "And since you were oh-so kind enough to go through a whole sentence without being the giant prude that you are," I handed him his wand, "I return your ugly little wand to you, you slimy little goo."
He just stared at me for a second and then snatched his wand from me, turning and making his way out of the compartment in a huff.
"Well," I said, sitting back down in my seat and breathing in and out, "that was quite fun."
"Quite fun?!" Ginny hissed. "You mean you enjoyed Malfoy flat-out telling you that he's going to make your life at Hogwarts completely miserable?!"
Er, no, not quite, Gin dearest.
I shook my head, "I meant the part about where I told him off." I grinned. "Usually I get into the habit of standing there like an idiot and then only thinking up a good comeback, like… forty million years later." I paused. "Ish."
"Well," Ron laughed, "It still doesn't stand against Hermione for slapping him."
She did what?! That little…
I clenched my fists at my side, subconsciously hoping that no one noticed. "You did WHAT?!" I screeched at her, totally aghast.
I love that word. AGHAST. Isn't it lovely? It's lovely!
Hermione shrugged. "You'll learn that sometimes Draco Malfoy brings out the worst in his peers."
I groaned involuntary. "Madame Moscovitch said the same thing about me in third year." I rolled my eyes and grinned. "But you have to admit, it was right funny! I'll be forever remembered at Durmstrang as the girl who –" I stopped myself and scratched my head.
"The girl who what?" Harry asked, leaning forward.
Well, Curious George, I'll tell you!
"The girl who…"
Drew the picture of the headmaster, Igor Karkaroff, on the side of the left-block-building after being inspired by catching him in the showers and seeing him in all his splendor. (Although "splendor" really is the totally opposite word for what it was… Involuntary shudder, anyone?)
"The girl who…"
Lit her own Quidditch team's brooms on fire in a desperate attempt to burn the other team out of the finals. (I wasn't aware they were our brooms, okay?!)
"The girl who…"
Slathered butter over her entire body – minus the catsuit she was wearing - and then proceeded to roll in the grass, gathering dirt and twigs on the way, then sticking tree branches in her hair and running through the quad while her friends – who were in on the prank – ran screaming, "It's the Blair Witch! The Blair Witch! Everyone run!" (The suit was itchy, and my hair was oily for a week… I am so never doing that again.)
"The girl who…"
Ran naked in the quad the following year, with four banana peels stuck in her hair, waving her arms madly and screaming, "They've got my nose, they've got my nose!"
I paused.
No way am I telling them that.
Seriously, it's not like I ever had any intention of living my worst moments in the quad… They were all dares. And who - tell me now – who backs out on a dare?
"The girl who isn't going to tell you what she did, because that would be very, very bad." I shrugged. "So, you're all in Dra- I mean, Malfoy's year?" I glanced at Ginny. "Besides you?"
Harry nodded. "Yup." He said. "Sixth year."
"How do you know Malfoy?" Ron asked suddenly.
Er, he's my brother?
Ooh, I'm so gonna play with them.
Well, hello, my little pets! Let's see how far this game shall go, non?
"Family." I said truthfully, then decided I should continue since they were just kind of staring at me. "Oh, come on, everyone knows the Malfoys…"
"Sure," Ginny said, "But that doesn't mean they know them. Malfoy already knew your name."
I shrugged. "It's no big thing. Just… family… You know, silly pureblood nonsense."
"Ah…" Hermione said uncertainly. "So you're a pureblood…"
"Wouldn't have gotten into Durmstrang if I wasn't, most likely." I said with yet another shrug.
Do they not like purebloods? What the hell?
What kind of witch or wizard does not like a pureblood?!
What is this world coming to?!
I smiled playfully. "I suppose it's all good, though. I've heard there are muggleborns in Hogwarts, which should be mad fun. The only muggle I know is my Aunt Carolina's husband, who shouldn't count really, as he's a bit on the senile side. In a mad funny way, of course."
"You like muggles?" Ginny asked hesitantly.
Er, duh.
"Sure." I nodded. "What's not to like? They don't have magic, no, which really is a pity, as they're missing out on a lot, but they're pretty rad nonetheless. I especially like those, er, what do you call it? Films?"
"Hermione's a muggleborn." Ron supplied.
"I know." I said before I could stop myself.
"You did?" Hermione asked, wrinkling her brow.
Well, yeah! What did I just say, missy?
I nodded. "Sure. It's the name. Granger. Never heard it before. Must be muggle."
"That makes sense." Ginny giggled. "What's your last name, anyway? If you're a pureblood, maybe we know some of your family."
Er, pour quoi, you silly thing, you? Now that I know that my brother is, like, all time "wanker," I don't really want to be spreading around the fact that we're related… I mean, come on…
How am I ever going to have a life if I'm always walking in my brother's footsteps?
"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Hermione asked.
See what I mean?
Sheesh.