Lazuli - Harry Potter Fan Fiction (Draco Malfoy)

PROLOGUE

"I'm Harry," he tells me in a polite tone. "Hello," I breathe, before taking a seat besides Ron and fishing a book entitled 'Madame Tinkly's Guide to Potions' from the bag that hangs over my shoulder. Ron pinches my arm, and stares at Harry with an open mouth. "You're Harry Potter!" He declares proudly, as if he cannot believe his eyes.

This has piqued my interest. I close my book and watch as the boy blushes and nods his head slowly. "So is it true, about the..." Ron lowers his voice "scar?"

I punch him in the ribs. "Ronald, you can't ask someone that! I'm so sorry." I apologise to Harry, and in return he gives me a smile. "It's ok," he lifts his fringe of black hair to reveal a scar in the shape of a lightening bolt. Ron and I stare at it, transfixed at the lightening shaped imprint in Harry's forehead. To say that I wasn't curious too would be a lie. Just like everybody else, I had wondered if the famous Harry Potter (who was our age) would be going to Hogwarts with us, and - if he was - would he truly have the scar that the stories told about?

Harry lowers his fringe and gives us a smile. "Wicked," Ron comments, holding his hand up for Harry to high five. I jab him in the ribs again with my elbow; he truly has no sense about what you should and shouldn't say.

I return to my book whilst Ron chatters away to Harry, who looks slightly taken aback but nonetheless patiently answers all of Ron's questions. Before long Harry has worked up the confidence to ask Ron questions, mostly about our family and if we've known that we were wizards all of our lives.

"Well, me and Li have 6 brothers and a sister." Ron comments in between chewing the foul sandwiches that Mum made for us. "Li and I," I correct him, not looking up from my book. Ron ignores me, but Harry chuckles slightly and I flash him a smile.

From his pocket, Ron pulls out a picture and beckons for Harry to move over to the seat. I move up so that he can squeeze in the middle of Ron and I. "Thank you," Harry mutters quietly to me. "This is my brother Bill, he's great, he's working in Egypt right now as a Curse Breaker, pretty cool if you ask me. But not as cool as Charlie, he works with dragons! When I'm older, he says that he's going to teach me how to look after them!"

He jabs his finger at the photograph, a picture I hate taken last Christmas. I hate the picture because it has my entire family in it, and I stand out like a sore thumb amongst them. All of my siblings and parents have the fiery red hair that people associate with the Weasley family, whilst I somehow managed to inherit chestnut brown locks. I don't have the freckles either, just the pale skin and bright blue eyes to confirm that I am actually a Weasley.

"This is Percy, he's the Prefect of Gryffindor, where me and Li are going. You'll probably be put in Gryffindor too - all the best people are." He gives a little chuckle to himself. "This is Fred and George, they're twins like us. Everyone loves them, because they're so funny! It's impossible to dislike them!" Finally, he points out Ginny, who is perched on Charlie's shoulders beaming for the camera. "That's Ginny, she's the youngest." He folds the picture back up and pushes it into his pocket.

"You're lucky, I don't have any siblings. I have my cousin, Dudley, but I hate him." He glares out of the window, and I can't help but wonder how he can hate someone that he's related to. Sure, my brothers and sister annoy me and I sometimes dislike them immensely, but hate? Hate is a very strong word.

A gentle voice outside in the aisle calls "Anything from the trolley?" The cart - pushed by an elderly woman with candyfloss-coloured hair and a crooked yet gentle smile - stops outside our compartment. "Anything from the trolley?"

I long to reach out and take everything I see; Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour-Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Lucinda's Liquorice to name but a few of the treats on display. But alas, I've no money on me, so I must be contented with the mushy sandwiches that my mother made for me. Ron appears equally as downhearted as me. So both of us almost jump out of our skin when Harry cries "We'll take the lot!"