Chapter Eight

Draco was bored.

As a Slytherin he had to exude perfection. And as a Malfoy he had to honor his lineage while under the pureblood customs of his ancestors. One was extremely exhausting to remember at times; and the other made him envy the freedom -especially those of whom are in Gryffindor- that was obtained away from the structured and strict traditions.

But nothing could have prepared him for the sight that came before him while entering the Great Hall...

Weaslette was walking with a new girl beside her. She was tiny; her green eyes sparkling while being quite uncomfortable in a skirt. And her hair seemed endlessly bedraggled, which if he wasn't a Slytherin, would have laughed.

But, on her...adorable.

She did not look familiar in the least but the passion in which she rambled made him stare heavily at her lips. Distracting really.

And yet...

"What are you looking at?" The tiny girl hissed. Her hands on her hips.

Draco's gray eyes caught hers. He could see the nervousness .in her body. And for some reason he just did not have the words to respond.

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

He watched as they moved through the Great Hall. And headed toward the Gryffindor table.

This may be a problem.