Disclaimer! The characters and any plot points you recognize are not mine; I'm just the novice playing with them.

Chapter Two: A Year's Change

I remember he met me in the garden, the one with the snapdragons and morning lillies. The ornate stone bench was cool to touch as I seated myself, but the air was thick and humid in late June. I could see the dirigible plums floating to the west of the garden and an immature elf spraying doxycide and gnome repellant on the bushes of nymph roses. It was a beautiful morning in August and I was unusually optimistic. I should've known better.

"Story!" I heard my sister cry, rushing outside with a silly grin gracing her features. She skidded to a halt in front of me and I glanced over my shoulder to see if mother was watching. She would have a fit if she knew Daphne, her precious daughter, was running around like a mad woman. As it was, the only people following her were Draco and Blaise. "Story, I got my Hogwarts letter!" Ah, that explained why they were here. If Daphne had gotten her letter, that meant they had as well.

She thrust a piece of parchment at me impatiently when I didn't respond immediately. It was a thick piece, heavy with ink and implications I didn't understand at that young age.

"Dear Miss Greengrass," I read aloud, my voice covering the sound of Daphne's thick soled shoes bouncing on the pavement. "We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Terms begins on 1 September. We await your owl no later that 31 July." It was signed sloppily by a woman named Minerva McGonagall, as if the proclaimed deputy headmistress had gotten tired of writing. It made me wonder why she didn't use a copying spell on one letter and just change the addressee's name. "Do they all say the same thing?" I asked, glancing at the two males who still stood in the doorway. Daphne nodded, albeit a little too excitedly for such a question.

"We're also not allowed our own brooms," Blaise muttered, obviously a bit miffed at the idea. I understood that rule. There were various muggleborn students going to Hogwarts and I was sure most of them wouldn't know the first thing about broom riding. Add on to that the safety issues one would have with an inexperienced first year riding a broom and they had a strong reason to prohibit first years from riding brooms. But, of course, Blaise wouldn't see it that way until they actually arrived at the infamous school.

"Draco, did your parents decide to send you to Hogwarts or Durmstrang?" I asked quietly. I was hoping, possibly against hope if his father got his way, that he would go to Hogwarts, as that was where I most definitely would be going in two years' time.

"Mother put her foot down. I'll be attending Hogwarts for the foreseeable future," he replied, a cool facade sliding down over his features. So he wasn't happy about it. He wanted to go to Durmstrang. I wondered why.

"Let's go show mum our letters, boys," Daphne ordered, effectively leaving me to spend time in my favorite garden alone. I watched as one by one they trudged back inside. Draco hesitated at the door for a few seconds until Blaise called his name.

An hour or so later, after tending to my various herbs and flowering plants, I was wiping the dirt from my hands with a handkerchief and digging potting soul out from under my manicured nails. I sighed in exasperation as a I picked at a particularly stubborn clump of soil and glanced over my shoulder to see if my parents were lurking. They weren't. A whispered Scourgify later and my nails were clean as a whistle, as were my robes. I smirked to myself.

Channeling my underage magic was something I had learned at a very young age. I quickly grew tired of my mother complaining about proper etiquette and my inability to adhere myself to the basic dress style of young girls, as I was always doing something to make myself dirty. Research of wandless magic and accidental magic had led me to believe channeling my underage magic into something more would be as simple as practice and focus. Those were things I excelled in.

"You know, you're going to get caught one of these days." I spun on the spot and grinned at Draco impishly.

"If they were going to catch me, they would have done so already," I replied. My parents would, understandably, be appalled if they caught their nine year old daughter doing magic far beyond her years. It wasn't exactly frowned upon, but it most definitely wasn't safe and that was a good enough reason for them to punish me. "So what are you doing out here?"

"Your sister's friend Pansy arrived and Blaise went back home to help his father tend the vineyard," he answered with a hint of annoyance. I understood that all too well. Pansy Parkinson was the heiress of the Parkinson fortune and a spoiled brat with a high opinion of herself - one that nobody agreed with. Her arrival could only mean she was staying for dinner and I would be forced to listen to her put-downs of my appearance throughout the meal.

"You should've went with Blaise. I'm sure he would've enjoyed the company." The vineyards in southern Italy produced most of the wizarding world's wine import, so I'd heard father say. They were very large and impressive and Blaise's family owned more than half. If I'd had the option, I would've went.

"I wanted to speak with you," he returned, glancing back into the manor. My brow furrowed in confusion. It wasn't as if he couldn't speak to me in front of my sister. "Things are going to be different this year, with me going to school. Different until you join us at Hogwarts, I'd expect." I nodded in agreement, raising an eyebrow. Where was he going with this? "Father wants me to 'be the man he raised me as'. You know, put on a little show for the muggleborns and blood-traitors at the school. He also wants me to get to know Harry Potter, since he will be going to the school the same time as me."

"Please get to the point, Dray," I interrupted, growing impatient. He was stalling for some reason and it was making me anxious.

"He said you were a distraction," he continued, "and that I should distance myself from you in case you caused trouble for this so-called plan of his. He doesn't want me to spend time with you anymore so after today I probably won't be coming back over this summer. Or next summer." So Lucius Malfoy was a bastard and Draco wasn't going to fight him. Who would have guessed that? Me. Right.

"You're going to do as he says?" I asked quietly. He nodded. "That's fine, then." I turned to go, unhappiness and the heartbreak of losing a childhood friend settling into the pit of my stomach.

"Story," he whispered. I snapped back around, hoping he was going to recant or burst out laughing, saying it was a joke. He didn't. His last spoken words to me for two years were, "I'll write you." I didn't respond. Instead, I gathered all of my nine years' worth of dignity, flipped him the bird, and went back inside.

TBC

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