➵ Choice ➵ {DM and HP)

➵ Chapter 5 ➵

I open my mouth to say something then close it again, my confidence having disappeared with that icy gaze. I'm about to turn away to leave him be when a mocking voice calls out.

"Wow Malfoy, hanging with the Mudblood?"

The word takes me back to a time a few years ago, when I had first experienced the malintentions of the people of Beauxbatons. It was after a charms lesson, I had been walking to the dining hall, when I was cornered by none other than my dear friend Amélie and her two brainless sidekicks.

"Je ne sais pas qu'est ce que vous voulez avec Alexandre, mais arrête avec tes petits regardes innocentes. Il va jamais te parlai, arrête avec les essais pathétiques, Sang-de-Bourbe," she hissed in rapid french.

My french at the time was still developing, and her speed didn't help so I hesitantly asked, "Um, excuse me?"

She laughs, the sound sending shivers down my spine, "Wow, you really are stupide," she says, cocking her head slightly, a thick french accent making it difficult to understand her english. "I said, stop making eyes at Alexandre, it's not like he would notice a— how do you say?" She pauses for a moment before a smirk stretches across her lips. "Ah yes, a Mudblood."

"Looks like the Mudblood is speechless," The slur brings me back to reality and snickers fill my ears.

I shift my eyes to the source of the voice and see his frozen eyes and wide sneer, such a change from his open, even friendly manner from yesterday. I hold his gaze, preparing to shoot something back but all my words have seemed to escape me, stuck under the panic I feel rising in my throat. I suddenly feel like I'm drowning and as I look around, no one's there to help. Like always.

I set my jaw, and turn on my heels, trying to ignore the jeers from the other boys and his gaze, now ice cold on my back. I walk until I find a bench far enough away from those steel eyes, and collapse onto the hard stone. I lean my head back against the cold wall behind me, and close my eyes shut. Panic floods through me, an ice river of fear and helplessness..

It's happening again.

How could I think that Hogwarts would be any better than Beauxbatons? I had a feeling the kind 'friends' or whatever were too good to be true. I'm going to be an outcast. the runt, but this time, if I get myself expelled, there's no going back. I'll be stuck at home with my family for good.

"Whoa, are you ok?"

The voice jerks me from my thoughts and I open my eyes to see one of the identical redhead boys from yesterday standing in front of me. I pull my head off the wall, embarrassed.

"Oh um, yeah, I'm fine," I stammer, cursing my voice for giving me away.

"You're not fine but I'll skip over that for now, George Weasley." He sticks out his hand and I shake it.

"Eloise Foster."

He sits down next to me, not awaiting an invitation. I shift uncomfortably on the bench, unsure as to why he's sitting next to me. I glance over at him and see his pockets almost bursting with little boxes.

"Why the boxes?" I ask, surprising myself by starting a conversation.

"Oh these," He pulls out a box. "Are skiving snackboxes."

He opens it to reveal a group of multicolored candies, each one with a purple end and an orange end. I pick one up from the open box and inspect it.

"Fred and I made them for our joke shop." George explains, and I guess that Fred must be his twin. "These ones are puking pastilles, eat the purple and you'll start seeing your insides on the floor, and eat the orange to set everything right. "