CHAPTER 3

Father,

I hope everything at the shop is going well. I heard about Gran's fall, I hope it wasn't too serious.

My classes are going well. Professor Shram tells me that I have a gift in transfiguration. I do enjoy the class very much. I never thought I would have this much fun in class, even though I get a few ugly glances from the other students every once in a while…it's nothing I can't handle

I paused. How could I tell my father about the regular beatings I endured after class and in passing? How could I make my father worry about that sort of thing when he is under constant pressure at work and still trying to erase the ghost of his parents' past. No, for now the least his father knows the best.

I included a few more tidbits about school and my "friends" in the letter before I wrapped it up and gave it to one of the school Owls to send to my father.

I could only watch after the bird and sigh. Sometimes I wish I was a bird, too. I wish I was able to fly away from this place that gives me so much grief. Why can't people stop calling me names, and hurting me? I wasn't in the war! I never worked for You- Know- Who! The worst thing I have ever done was cheat on a test when I was in primary, even then I came clean because I felt so guilty.

Despite what people might think, Draco Malfoy refused to raise his son the way his father did: by using fear and punishment to make him into a "man".

My father loves me. Dearly. He wants the best for me, and he hopes that he can be a counselor and friend to me, instead of something to be frightened of.

A soft squeak roused me from my thoughts and I turned to face the door of the Owlery.

The Weasley girl stood there, watching me. Her hair still in those silly little ringlets she wears every day. The sun shone brightly on her perfectly round face. Something passed over her face that looked as though she was debating whether or not she should stay. In the end she set her face, squared her tiny shoulders and walked boldly into the room.

Not looking at me, she strapped a letter to the foot of a beautiful black owl and carried it to the window where I stood. She waited a moment and watched quietly as the bird flew from her wrist into the sky and turned to face me.

"I apologize for the way I acted on the train, it was childish and unacceptable…Do you accept my apology?" her stance was sure and somewhat rigid. I suspect this comes from being the daughter of Hermione Granger and from having a family as big as hers.

Too shocked to speak, I simply nodded and opened my mouth slightly. To say what, I'm not sure.

The Weasley girl smiled slightly with those giant lips and held out a hand, "Good. Well, I'm Rose. Rose Weasley, and you are?"

"Scorpius Malfoy" I say as I took her hand.

"hmm, I've heard about you. You're second in every first year class." She states as though this is common knowledge.

I could only agree. This was true, but I'm not sure how she knows this. Grades haven't even been established yet. In fact, I only know because my professors allowed me to know, in confidence that I wouldn't mention this to anyone, save my parents.

"Well, I'm first. And I plan to stay that way." Her smile was almost sickening as she says this. I could tell just by the way she was standing that she knew she was better than me, as though she knows I can't beat her.

"Now wait- how do you already know that you're first?" I asked, astonished, even if I already knew the answer

Weasley got a sly look on her face. "It doesn't matter. All that does matter is that I stay in first place. Do we have an understanding?"

I think for a moment before I bring my face closer to hers, causing her to bend away from me with a surprised look in her eyes, almost giving her away.

"Let me make myself perfectly clear, Weasley. I will be first, no matter what it takes. I will take your pedestal, and you're popularity, and I will enjoy doing it."

This girl brings forth a strange fire in me. A fire I have never experienced before. I have always done the will of others around me, simply because of my social standing. But with her I want to fight. I want to compete and have the thrill of the win. I want to beat her, with all of my being.

Rose stood up straight once again and balled her fists at her sides. She looks as though she could punch me, or scream. This was the reason why I wanted to compete. This moment, as I gaze at her fiery red tendrils and that fury behind her little girl eyes, is the perfect picture of my reason. This relentlessness that she emanates is intoxicating.

Almost instantly, however, she cools down and a chilly grin covers her face.

I hear her chuckle softly and say "We'll see, Malfoy. We will see."

I can only grin back and accept this in my heart. I know this will be the start of something magnificent. I lose myself in the fantasies of watching her face growing hot after she loses to me, of feeling the rage bounce off of her as she goes all in just to beat me.

"By the way" I hear her start distantly, as though she was somewhere far away

"You have droppings on your robes." I look at her stupidly as I try to process her words.

"Sorry?" I say

"I said, you have droppings on your robes…just there" she says as she points to the elbows and sides of my robes.

Apparently I forgot to spot check before I leaned on the window sill.

Damn.

Rose only giggles when I verbally revealed my frustrations and turns away.

"See you in class, Malfoy."