Chapter Two: First Glance …

I woke up one morning to find the sunlight streaming through my window and making my bed feel very warm. I yawned loudly and stretched my arms, shutting my eyes to block out the light. No chance; it was too bright.

I slowly sat up in my bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and got out of bed. As I slipped on my summer dressing gown, I glanced at the clock to see it was already 9:30am. Damn it, Mum's going to be mad at me already. She hates me sleeping in on Sundays for some reason.

I made my way down the hallway to the kitchen expecting to find Mum sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in hand and reading the newspaper. She wasn't to be seen. She must still be sleeping.

Shrugging to myself, I got out a bowl and poured some Co-co Pops in it. Mum never usually approves on me having chocolate for breakfast, but I bribe her to get it anyway. I had some yesterday for getting good grades last term, but I deserve another treat once in awhile, right? Anyway, I poured some of the chocolate stuff in the bowl and poured some milk in it.

I then sat down on my red bean bag and flicked on the TV and watched 'The Simpsons' on cable. If Mum got up now and saw me eating breakfast in front of the TV, she would go spare. She would prefer me to eat on the table, but I like being near the TV. The table is on the other side of the kitchen and the TV isn't there. We only have one.

As I was laughing at Homer being stupid with Maggie I heard a loud tap on the window.

I glanced over my shoulder to see a brown barn owl sitting on the window- sill with a newspaper in his beak. That must be the Daily Prophet, the wizardry world newspaper. That is the only thing that links me to the world I truly belong to. Well, Mum took me to Diagon Ally once and that was because she couldn't find a baby-sitter. That was an amazing place, witches and wizards everywhere shopping in shops you don't find in the Muggle world.

To me, it was heaven.

"Mummy! The Daily Prophet's here!" I called, turning my attention back to the TV and continuing to eat my breakfast. There was no answer. I leaned back to look down the hallway and saw the door hadn't open yet.

"Mum, the post is here!" I yelled, cupping my hands over my mouth. Still no answer and the owl was starting to get really impatient.

"MUM! NEWSPAPER DELIVERY!!"

Still nothing. The owl banged against the window, trying to get my attention. I groaned and put my bowl down and flicked 'pause' at the TV.

'Thank Merlin for time slip on TV,' I thought as I opened a small draw in the kitchen and got out three bronze coins which were Knuts. Yeah, I know what wizard currency is, I'm not stupid. I walked back out into the small living room and opened the window.

"Here you go. Sorry the head of the house decided to sleep in," I muttered angrily to the owl, putting the Knuts in the little pouch tied to his leg. He dropped the newspaper in my palm, hooted softly and took off, disappearing into the clear sky.

"Have a nice day yourself," I muttered, putting the newspaper down and shutting the window. For some reason, I liked to talk to the owls. Might sound weird, but it's comforting to me. Mum said that when I go to Hogwarts, she'll get me an owl. I'm still trying to decide on the names for it.

I went back to the TV and played it back while finishing my breakfast. It was rather a funny episode to watch even though I had seen it like fifty times before and I had the movie on DVD. The movie's entertaining in my opinion. Mum liked it too, but she's never been a real fan of 'The Simpsons'.

Another episode started after the one I was watching finished, but I turned it off, thinking I should go and check that Mum hadn't died during the night. But then the newspaper caught my eye. If I gave Mum the newspaper, she wouldspend hours reading it and I wouldn't get to as she would chuck it out.

I walked over to the table by the window which I had placed the newspaper and unrolled it to look at the front page. My eyes immediately focused on the picture and widened as big as dinner plates.

There on the front page was a man that looked familiar, but it wasn't because I had seen him before. It was because he looked like me. The photo was coloured so I could see he had white blonde hair that was slicked back (what a stupid look), his eyes were grey and his face was rather pale. His face was sort of pointed, but he was, in my opinion, not too bad with looks.

Why did I think he looked like me? Well, he could probably be my father.

Ok … I know that sounded crazy. It's only a picture and the first picture I've ever seen of someone who could possibly be my father. I shook my head and glanced at the headline to read:

Ministry introduces new Minister last night:

Draco Malfoy

'That name sounds a little familiar', I thought to myself as I scanned the article quickly.

I found that this was starting to get too much of a coincidence. He was twenty-eight years and had graduated from Hogwarts almost ten years ago. Mum is twenty-eight going on twenty-nine and left Hogwarts ten years ago … and had me like a week after she left.

It also said he had been in Slytherin house and didn't support the Death Eaters and worked to find those who were still doing Death Eater activities. His parents were dead.

I finished reading the article, thinking hard. Mum had mentioned something about a stupid Slytherin before and that he was very rude at times. She also said something about a family dealt with the Death Eaters. I don't know whether this was the same person (my father) who was arrogant all the time or whether it was a different person. I would have to ask her.

I walked down the hallway, putting my empty bowl on the kitchen bench as I walked past it and knocked on Mum's bedroom door. "Mummy? You up yet?" There was no answer. I sighed and opened the door.

Mum was still in bed, but she wasn't dead, thank Merlin. She was sleeping peacefully with her chest rising up and down. I tiptoed over to her bed and sat down next to her, trying to wake her up by shaking her.

"Mummy, wake up. Wake up!"

Mum groaned and turned round to face me, opening her eyes. "Oh, Abigail," she answered sleepily. "Is it morning already? What time is it?"

I looked at my watch. "Ten-thirty," I replied, and I couldn't help, but let a smirk cross my face. "I never thought I would see the day when I would be up before my mother."

Mum seemed to ignore my sarcastic comment or she didn't hear it because she was yawning. "I'm sorry I wasn't up earlier, I've been so tired and worn out lately. I thought it was work getting to me again."

"Well then cut back the hours, Mum," I urged, placing my hand on her arm. "Then you can spend more time with me."

"Don't I already spend a lot of time with you?" Mum said with an amused smile. "Would you rather starve or live out on the streets just so I would be with you all the time?"

"That would mean I wouldn't have to go to school because you can't pay for it," I grinned.

"No, no, you've got to have an education," Mum muttered, shaking her head.

"You look really pale, Mum," I said, noticing that she was whiter than me. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Mum insisted, finally sitting up in bed and squeezing my hand. "Honest. Just give me one cup of coffee and I'll be fine."

"That reminds me, the Daily Prophet came while you were sleeping," I said, remembering about the newspaper as she usually read it while having coffee. "I was calling out to you so you could pay the owl but you didn't hear me."

"I thought I heard some shouting outside," Mum said with a sly smile. "But I thought I was still dreaming. Let me see the headline. Have they announced the new Minister yet?"

I rolled my eyes. Mum is very interested in politics for some reason. I think it might have something to do with a society for the freedom for house-elves she set up in her fourth year called S.P.E.W. Maybe she's hoping they'll recognise her views on house-elves one day.

"Yeah they have. It's this man," I said, handing over the newspaper and pointing at the picture. "Does he seem familiar to you?"

Mum took it and looked at the picture. Her mouth dropped open in shock and she shook her head furiously. "No, no, they can't have chosen him! They've made a mistake in the printing process. There's no way in hell he could have gotten the job, no way in hell…"

"What's wrong with him?" I asked, confused as to why Mum didn't like him. "He's young, good looking –"

"You're only looking on the outside, Abigail," Mum said, shaking her head again and reading the article.

"He hates Death Eaters," I said, pointing at the sentence where it said so. "And he wants to hunt down those who are still doing Death Eater activities."

"He hates Death Eaters? Yeah right! That doesn't change who he was back then," Mum said bitterly. "Oh look, he made a donation of twenty thousand galleons to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. How very generous of him…"

"What's St Mungo's Hospital?" I asked, confused. "I've never heard of it."

"It's a hospital for wizards," Mum replied, turning the page to finish the article as it continued on the next page. "I've been there a couple of times."

"If it's a hospital for wizards how come I've never been?"

"Because you've only had injuries that can be easily cured by Muggles," Mum said, running her finger down the page. "And I didn't need to go there to give birth to you."

"But it takes ages for the injuries to get better," I complained, remembering the time I broke my right arm. I endured a lot of pain and had to wear a sling around it for nine weeks. "My arm could have been fixed within seconds without me having a sling for nine weeks!"

"Your friends would have asked you questions," Mum muttered, still reading the article. "It was best if I took you to a Muggle hospital." She clicked her tongue and shook her head again. "Ha, ha. Listen to this dear, "Draco Malfoy is not married and still remains the most eligible bachelor of the year as voted by Witch Weekly Top 25 Handsome Men of the Year." If I ever saw a handsome man in the office I would say that Mr Malfoy looked like the giant squid."

"Mum, he's not that bad," I whined, looking at the picture on the front page. "He really does look familiar … does he remind you of someone?" I asked, with a note of hope in my voice. I still thought he looked like me. Maybe she might tell he was my father.

She looked at the picture again and shook her head. "He just reminds me of an older version of the boy that used to call me a 'Mudblood' at Hogwarts and who I punched once."

"You punched a guy!" I gasped, covering my mouth. "Why?"

"Because he was annoying me," Mum said simply, closing the newspaper and setting it aside. "He was always very rude to me and I wanted to teach him a lesson."

"And did you?" I asked, admiring Mum for her daring to punch a boy.

"For awhile I did." Mum suddenly started laughing uncontrollably and leaning on her elbows for support. "You know what he did after I punched him? His friends stood there dumbfounded and didn't know what to do while he just stood there flabbergasted. He then made a run for it which I found really funny." She laughed hysterically with a huge smile on her face.

I laughed at the fact that a boy just fled after a girl punched him. He must have never lived it down!

Mum wiped her eyes which were full of tears when she finally stopped laughing. "He was always such a nasty boy and he always seemed to get away with a few things easily because his father would fix it all for him."

"But his father's dead," I pointed out, remembering that fact.

"Yeah what a shame," Mum said carelessly as if she couldn't care less. "Well anyway, it's getting late and I should be doing some cleaning up. I want you to tidy up your room, Abigail."

"But I tidied it up yesterday!"

"It's still messy."

"Why don't you tidy it up with your wand," I pleaded, not wanting to spend half the day 'cleaning' my room.

"I want you to do it the normal way. Go on."

"But I want to watch TV," I whined. "Can't I do it later?"

"No buts," Mum said sternly, pushing back the covers and getting out of bed. "I want you to do it now and you're not allowed to watch TV until it's done."

"Can I put on music while I do it?"

"No. It'll distract you."

I growled to myself and walked out of her room. "Finally she decides to get up," I muttered angrily as I opened the door to my room. A garbage tip welcomed me as I stepped into my room and closed the door behind me. I groaned loudly. I tidied up my room yesterday, how did it get like this overnight?

This was going to take all day.