Silvia Black was a maid at Malfoy Manor. Her father, former death eater Regulus Black, was in debt to the dark lord, and when he became unable to pay he was murdered by Voldemort and his daughter was forced to become a slave for the Malfoy Family. W...
Never thought it'd be possible to hate Draco Malfoy more than I already do. Thank god I didn't have to put up with him for that long, I only had him one lesson which was potions with the Slytherins.
But then Harry spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room which made us all groan. Flying lessons were starting on Thursday, and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.
"Typical." Harry said darkly, making me look in his direction. I was currently sat with them in the three chairs by the fireplace, harry on the sofa, Ron in the armchair, and me in the loveseat. I was running a brush through my hair, a couple of bobby pins sticking out of my mouth making me unable to reply.
"Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy." He continued as I started weaving strands of hair and connecting them to the back of my head, securing them with a bobby pin. I felt sorry for harry, knowing that he wanted to learn how to fly more than anything else.
"You don't know you'll make a fool of yourself." Ron said responsibly. Hang on a sec.... Ron and responsibly should not even go in the same sentence! He said something responsibly?! I had finished the hairstyle, waving my wand and summoning a mirror from my room to see the bun that I had done.
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Gotta admit, I'm getting better at hair. "Anyway, Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at quidditch, but I bet it's all talk." Ron added, making me roll my eyes, knowing full well that it was not 'just talk' and that he was actually a fairly decent flier. I removed the excess bobby pins from my mouth and waved my wand, making them disappear. Having magic is totally awesome. (Avpm anyone?)
Although his stories were all lies. He was constantly telling long, boastful tales that always ended in him narrowly escaping muggles in helicopters. I had done a little flying before when I used to sneak out at night into the broom shed and go flying, until I was caught and locked in the basement for three days without any food or water.
Poor Hermione was about as nervous as Neville was. Flying was something you could not learn out of a book, but believe me, she had tried. At breakfast on Thursday she had bored us all to death with stupid flying tips she'd gotten out of a library book called Quidditch Throughout The Ages.
