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It was a chilly night, and I was curled up in my bed with a book in hand, wrapped in a cosy blanket. The cold crisp air rushed into the room from a window, which I had purposely left open because I adored the cold. Hence my name is Winter.
The book was left abandoned on the side table, as I stared up at the night sky, filled with stars that blinked repeatedly. It hurt my eyes, but very obsessive so I couldn't stop watching.
My eyelids dropped tiredly, yearning for a rest after the exhausting day but I was too excited. Tomorrow was going to be a big day, the day I would be going to Diagon Alley, for the first time. I received a letter from Hogwarts listing all the equipment I would be needing for my first year - such as books, a wand, Parchments, Quills, ink - just this morning.
Father decided it was best if we got everything done early, and I eagerly agreed, excited to finally visit the said place.
I got my invitation letter to Hogwarts just a few days ago, at the beginning of the summer break, and I have been dreaming of the first day I will step foot on Hogwarts grounds ever since.
My older brother, Draco Malfoy, who had started Hogwarts just last year, told me a lot about the amazing place. About its magical wonders, the stunning castle and its views, and Quidditch. It all sounded amazing, but I was excited and nervous all at once.
I was worried about being sorted into a different house than Slytherin, which my entire family had been a part of for many years.
As a member of a 'high-ranking pure-blood' family, I was expected to become the next 'Slytherin Princess'. Being the only daughter born as a Malfoy for over three generations, the pressure was on.
My gaze went to the packed suitcase at the corner of the room, just beside the door, ready to leave for Hogwarts with me. It consists of many of my favourite clothes, typically some of my skinny jeans or black leggings, hoodies and sweatshirts, and some usual T-shirts.
I'm never the one to wear fashionable clothes to stand out, nor do I care. I only wore clothes that were comfortable and usually wore dresses for important balls or meetings my parents would attend. That is, because my mother would keep nagging me to wear those frilly, ugly dresses that no less belonged in the garbage.
My eyes travelled up to the top of the luggage, where lay an empty black bag which was bound to be full by the end of the day tomorrow.
I felt the coldness beneath my feet as I jumped out of bed and made my way to my working desk. Switching on the lamp, I studied the list of equipment in my hand.
