Chapter 2
At the feel of someone shaking my shoulder, I abruptly wake up.
It's Scorpius. Oh, joy. I still don't quite understand why Albus, my favourite Potter, would ever want to be friends with this wacko.
I rub my eyes gingerly, and then I realise how I was sleeping so peacefully.
It's because I was sleeping on his shoulder.
Embarrased, I yank my bag out of his hands and hurriedly get off the Knight Bus, thanking Jerry and the driver on the way out. I try to ignore Scorpius as much as I can, but that's kinda hard, seeing as he catches up with me, gripping my shoulder, stopping me from moving on. I groan, spin around and snap at him.
"What?" I practically shout, getting really pissed all of a sudden, but more at myself then him.
So, of course, me being me, I'll just blame him for everything.
He looks shocked, before saying, "You never said where you were going to stay. I thought maybe we could-"
"I've got everything arranged. See you around, Malfoy," I sneer, jogging off.
First stop, Gringotts. After claiming about half the gold in the practically empty bank, I go rent out a room in the Leaky Cauldron. It's small, cramped, and not really my style, but I'll have to live with it until I get a decent job.
So I decide to make that the next on my list.
Getting a job.
I go to every store, Florish and Blotts, Magical Menagerie and Eeylops Owl Emporium before I stumble upon The Three Broomsticks, a bar which always has many customers. Cautiously, I open the door, blasting me with the sound of people yammering, hags in the corner gambling and drunkards in the corner singing merry songs.
I walk to the counter, where a half decent looking guy is serving.
Not my type. Obviously flirtatious. In his twenties.
He looks at me, grins, and instantly rushes to serve me.
"What'll it be, miss?" he asks, showing off his shiny teeth.
"Nothing today, thanks. Actually, I was looking for a job." I look at him expectantly, and see a gleam in his eye.
He smiles. "Yes, we do have a spot available. Do you mind coming back later today to fill in forms?" I smile, and he continues. "How does… eleven sound? I know it's late, but that's when I get my shift off." I nod, thank him, and leave.
I let out a sigh of relief. After a day full of searching through smell pet shops and books I finally found a job!
Not that I don't like books. They're intresting.
I blame my Dad. He didn't like books, so it's evident I got the gene from him. I mean, what else could it have been?
Not the fact that I'm thick, lazy and careless, right?
I don't try hard in anything because people already expect so much of me, they din't get surprised or pleased when I score above average.
Don't ask me how I got 'Oustanding' in all my OWLs. I reckon the examiner took one look at my name and gave me full marks, seeing as I am the daughter of the legendary Wesleys.
Tsk. Gimme a break.
I go back to my room in the Leaky Cauldron and decide to kill time by window shopping. Of course, I end up wondering into Knockturn Alley and getting mesmerised by Borgin and Burkes. I step in and look around at all the wares.
All interesting things. Looking closer, a label that reads of the magical properties of each item. Something inside the shop, though, makes the hairs at the back of my neck stand on end. The way the clock in the corner chimes at every minute, and the feel of thousands of tiny eyes watching me intently.
I snap my head to the side and look towards the shop assistant. Around the age of fifty, in need of a shave due to the vast amount of stubble on his face, deep wrinkles creasing his face and a thick layer of grime encasing him.
Yuck.
He goes back to cleaning soot from the fire place, but I can tell that he was watching me.
In that freaky way, as if he had his eye on me… if you get what I mean.
I decide to leave, seeing as Knockturn Alley is full of lots of strange people who I would prefer not to be alone with in a shop.
He seems to notice the same thing, as his voice chirps from the corner.
"Find what you need?" he asks.
I shake my head and side step him, gripping the door handle with a tencious grip.
"I found what I want," he drawls, placing a strong hand on my shoulder. "You," he whispers in my ear, trying to pull me closer.
I shrug his hand off my shoulder and reach to turn the door handle, shaking from terror.
Locked.
But it was open before…
I screech when his hands clamps over my mouth, halting my breath and my ability to speak. I start to kick and push this man off me, but to no avail. Still gripping the handle to the door, I turn it frantically, again and again, but each time nothing happens. I reach for my wand, usually nestled in my pocket, but it's not there.
Panicking, I try to kick the door to get out, but I end up with a very bruised toe.
The man starts to pull me back, away from the door, but I'm still fighting him, so he doesn't get very far.
The door handle rattles from the other side, meaning that someone else is trying to come in.
The man still has his hand tightly pressed over my mouth, but I bite him. I hear him wince and his grip loosens.
"Help!" I shout, before the shop assistant regains his composture, throwing me to the floor.
I gasp at the pain in my left shin from the fast contact of the marble floor tiles, greased with grime.
"Alohamora!" I hear a young male shout from the other side of the door. The stout shop assistant blocks the man's view, but the customer carelessley pushes him away.
Malfoy. Coincidence? Or has he been stalking me? I suspect the latter.
He sticks his hand out, indicating for me to use it as support to stand up. I dan't need his help.
"You ok?" he asks, and I can see the worry in his eyes.
How can someone who hardly knows me be worrying about me so much?
I nod, ignoring his hand and standing up on my own. I wince when I have to stand on my left leg.
"Obviously not," I hear him mutter, looking down at my knee. There is a large cut running down the side of my leg, a puddle of blood fresh on the floor. I don't know how the cut got there, but it is fleshy and looking quite alive.
Yucky.
To my surprise, Malfoy turns around and questions the cowering shop keeper. "You did this?!" he shouts, already knowing the answer. I just stand in the corner, speechless.
"I'm sorry, Mister Malfoy." He sickeningly falls into a deep bow at Scorpius's feet. Cringing, Malfoy takes a step back. He pulls the attendant up by the collar and his fist collides with his jaw.
Owch.
He punches him again and again, each blow harder than the last, until, somehow, I break out of my trance and limp towards him. I place a light hand on his shoulder.
"Stop," I whisper calmly.
He does, tiredly releasing his iron grip, the man dropping to the floor. He picks my wand up and hands it to me, not looking into my eyes.
"Thanks," I whisper, turning to walk out of the shop with great difficulty.
Rarely do I say thanks to anyone, let alone Malfoy. He should be pleased that he got even that.
His voice stops me. "You can't walk on that leg," he notes.
"You really do like pointing out the obvious, don't you?" I say, laughing and hobbling out of the shop.
Suddenly, I'm weightless.
Damn Malfoy. The idiot's picking me up. Doesn't he know not to touch Rose Weasley?
He calmly tosses me over his shoulder. I start to hit his back, demanding he let me down. He laughs, and I'm surprised to say that his voice sounds like music to my ears.
But so what if I like the sound of his voice? That doesn't mean anything else… right?