Chapter 5: The Library
I'm so tired after my long day that I'm surprised to find the library tables quite full. Upon checking my watch, however, I realize that it's barely 8:30. Glancing around, I note that fully half the students present are Ravenclaws.
I even spot my sister in a corner, studiously writing away, but only because she's sitting with that cute guy from her house, Michael Corner. He used to be Ginny Weasley's boyfriend. I will never understand why that girl let him go.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as Padma makes some witty comment and he smiles back. It's incomprehensible. We're sister, twins, identical. So why am I fat, while she is pretty? Why am I stupid, where she is smart? Even if she was as plain as me- and she's not, with her silky dark hair and glowing eyes- she would still be able to chat up a guy. She's interesting, whereas all I can do is giggle like a bimbo.
Padma glances up, noticing me standing there. She smiles politely, but I pretend not to notice and turn away. I'll leave wallowing in self-pity for later, when I've finished my homework.
Wandering along the aisles, I stop as I reach the potions section. Idly flipping through a few books, I make my selections. Just as I'm about to leave, I notice a small black book stuffed into a corner of the top shelf. Something about it intrigues me, and I stretch to reach it.
I can, just barely. My one favorite feature is my height. At 5'7", I'm taller than Padma by a half inch and tower 5 inches above my mother.
Examining the book's cover, I can't find a title or author. I'm just about to open the book when I feel a prickle on the back of my neck. A shadow has fallen in the light of the lamps, one that's not mine. I grab my books and whip around.
It's Draco Malfoy. I remember his obnoxious tricks in first year, when he was only a skinny pointy-faced blonde boy. Now, he's tall and lean and…dare I say it? He's actually good-looking. Not drop-dead gorgeous or model perfect, but he's grown out of his previous rodent looks.
"Oh, sorry, Mudblood," he drawls. "Did I scare you?"
"Get your facts right, ferret," I snap back. "I'm as purportedly 'pure' as you." He looks surprised for a moment, before sneering.
"Are you? I doubt that. You wish you were, and you're just saying you are, because who would go all the way to India for confirmation?"
"Devious little rodent, aren't you? If you really want proof, look at your own magical histories. I'm a twin, and magical twins are rare. In fact, they've only ever occurred in supposedly 'pure' families."
I'm surprised at the hostile tone and the words spilling out of my mouth. It's all true, but I've never really been one to insult a person to their face. Sadly enough, I'm more of the trash-talking, back-stabbing mold.
A small, detached part of my mind registers that as we've been talking, we've moved closer to each other. I'm only about a foot away from him now, and I can smell his aftershave.
How annoying. It smells divine, and I can feel warmth heating my cheeks. I don't waste another moment, but dodge around him to go check out my books.