Familia Ante Omnia

Vad glad jag blir :') Bra att veta att det finns fler här i världen med mitt tankesätt.. xD

Första kapitlet på engelska finns nu högst upp på sidan. De två på svenska finns inuti spoilers i samma inlägg.. Notera att de två första kapitlen på engelska skiljer sig lite från de som jag skrev på svenska, vilket innebär att vissa aspekter är olika och detaljer med betydelse är annorlunda. I huvudsak har de samma betydelse, men infallsvinkeln och förståelsen kan bli annorlunda.

Tack!

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Chapter two
Wiltshire

The rest of the people in the house were already gathered in the living room when I arrived. Arnatt in the middle of an enthusiastic explanation of how he found Gobstones fascinating. My foster father was there, sitting in a comfortable, emerald green armchair by the lit fireplace.

They looked up as I slipped through the door.

“Arielle!” Mrs Avery exclaimed and got up from her seat on the sofa. She motioned for me to get closer, so I took a couple of slow steps forward. “Jack, this is Arielle.”

The man in the armchair rose to his feet immediately to come over and shook my hand. His hand felt big and cold against my small and warm. He shook it briefly and quick, as if I was one of his business acquaintances.

“Pleasure to finally meet you, Arielle,” he said with a stern, deep voice. He was your average business-man, wearing a black spot-less suit, a striped ironed tie and a sleek, white button-up shirt. He had a square face, with a strong masculine jawline covered with small hints of light stubble. His dirty blonde hair carefully pulled back on the top of his head, with the sides shorter and cleaner revealing his rather big ears. The eyes were the feature which caught my attention the most – they were military-like, squinted and cold grey – with his bushy eyebrows slightly bent.

“You too,” I said shortly.

He gestured toward the empty spot on the sofa next to my brother. “Care to join us for a moment until dinner is served?”

“Sure.”

He went back to the armchair and I sat down next to Arnette, across from us sat Miss Hamilton and Mrs Avery, in between us lay a carefully carved out coffee table with a vase filled with colourful flowers.

“So…” my Mr Avery begun.
“So…” I mimicked.

A smile cracked on his stern cheeks. “Arielle… Beautiful name.”
“Thank you.”
“It means, if I am not incorrect, Lion of God.” His eyes stubbornly boring into mine.
“Yes, that's right.”

He seemed satisfied with my answer, leaning back in his chair and crossing one of his legs with the other, leaning his chin against one of his hands.

“I already told Arielle she'll begin Hogwarts this fall,” said Mrs Avery. “Isn't Draco about to enrol into his fifth year as well?”

Mr Avery turned to his wife. “Indeed he is, speaking of the Malfoy family, I invited them to join us for dinner this Saturday.” He paused and only the sound of the cracking fire could be heard in the otherwise dark and hollow room. “Gives Arielle here a chance of meeting one of her new classmates.”

I didn't know how to respond to that. His voice made me want to shudder and run straight out of there, but the fear of his cold eyes made my limbs go numb and I couldn't move.

“Does this – what was it – Franko – have any other siblings?” asked Arnatt.

“I'm afraid not,” said Mrs Avery, pity filling her voice. “But not to worry, sweetie, there are plenty of children your age around the lot.”

“Draco is a fine young man,” said Mr Avery directed to me. “He will for sure show you the ropes of your new school.”

“That – that sounds great,” I managed to breathe out and covered my mouth with my hand, pretending to have a sudden cough attack.

“Yes, well, let's not discuss that right now,” said Mrs Avery and waved her hand. “Why don't the two of you tell us some more about Sweden? How is the nature there? I hear it's beautiful…”

___________________________________________________________


I woke the next day to the sound of scattering coming from the kitchen downstairs. Scrooge was probably in the middle of making us the pancake breakfast Mrs Avery had promised us the other night. Miss Hamilton had left us shortly before dinner, waving us off and telling us to stay on our best behaviour and that she would check up on us in a week. I had a bad feeling in my gut as the door had shut and the sight of the old woman had disappeared.

The dinner had been a pain. For me at least. Mr Avery either spoke about Hogwarts – telling me about some different houses there were and that some house called Slither-something was the only good one – a subject which Mrs Avery was quick to try and change. As for Arnatt, he kept on babbling about how fascinating he found Quidditch and Gobstones, causing Mr Avery to agree to a bunch of different activites this weekend when he had – and I quote – managed to cut some time off his very important and sophisticated job, in order to abide us some of his most valuable time.

Lucky for me, he wouldn't be in the house when I would walk downstairs for breakfast. So I got up, showered in my very own, newly renovated bathroom, brushed my teeth and fixed my hair. Then I dressed in my usual black jeans and pulled a purple sweatshirt over my head before walking down to the kitchen.

“Good morning!” cheered Mrs Avery's voice before I even had a chance to open the door completely.

“Morning,” I mumbled.

Arnatt was already there, sitting on a stool, heaving in the pancakes with ease. I went over and sat down next to him, reaching for the glass of pumpkin juice Scrooge had just put on the table.

“Do you drink coffee? I have some left here,” Mrs Avery asked and waved with the coffee pot.

I shook my head. “No thanks.” Scrooge put down a plate of steaming hot pancakes, or more like a mountain of pancakes, before trotting off toward the stove to continue making another batch.

“Did you sleep well?” Mrs Avery continued. She had walked over to the table with her coffee cup, sitting down across from me and my brother. He had already finished his first plate of breakfast, eagerly looking over to the stove with watery eyes.

“Yes,” I answered between my bites. “The bed was very comfortable, thank you.” I felt like I had to add a longer sentence than my usual short answers, because Mrs Avery was – for sure – whole-heartedly trying to get to know us. Which was way more than we were used to.

She lit up like the sun. “That's fantastic! I'm glad you like it.”

“I slept like a prince,” said Arnatt as he got another plate of pancakes in front of him. Immediately he reached for the maple syrup to drown them in it.

“How wonderful, sweetie,” said Mrs Avery and handed him a napkin. His whole face was covered with a glistering layer of sugar. “Arielle, me and your brother were thinking of planting some of my new flowers in the garden, you're more than welcome to join us.”

I quit chewing to look at her, her eyes shining with anticipation. I would have joined them, maybe, if it hadn't been for my lack of confidence and interest in Herbology.

“We're going to plant Puffapods and Aconite!” said Arnatt.

“Well, we're going to try and replant some Aconite, considering they mostly grow in the wild,” explained Mrs Avery. “So, what do you think, Arielle, would you like to help us?”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “I would love to, but actually I was planning on reading today and walk the lot. If that's all right?”

“She likes to be alone and be boring,” said Arnatt.
“I do not!”
“Do too!”

“Eh – all right you two, that's – that's good,” interrupted Mrs Avery. “Of course you may explore your surroundings, sweetie, just be back before four o'clock when dinner is served.”

“I will.”
Half an hour later I had eaten my breakfast, said thank-you and spurted upstairs to get my backpack and filled it with one of the new books from the bookshelf, a notepad, quill and feather pencil.

The sun had arose to spread warmth on earth as I stepped outside and I mentally thanked Mrs Avery for making me bring a bottle of water on my so-called adventure. I passed the well-made and colourful backyard which indeed had more plants and fauna I had ever seen in my life in one place. I followed the long, narrow stone path until it came to an end in front of a set of huge bushes. I contemplated walking around, but it would take me at least twenty minutes, so I dropped myself onto my stomach and pulled myself through the pushes on my stomach.

Reaching the other side there was nothing else to be seen than an open field with grass-covered hills and some trees in the far coast. I could see another set of high bushes surrounding a house further away to my left, but I wasn't interested in that, instead I started walking straight forward.

It was so peaceful to be able to walk without a worry in the world. After all the drama and travelling we'd been through to get here and leaving our last foster family – who had been a selection of complete nutheads – I could use some relaxation.

I walked slowly for a good forty minutes, with the Avery house disappearing behind me and I sat for a long while underneath an abandoned tree in the middle of nowhere, reading. I sat there until the sun had reached it peek, before getting back up on my feet and continuing forward for a while. Then the familiar smell of water hit my nostrils. I hurried my steps up a hill and halted as a great, curving stream appeared in front of me. The water glistering in the light of the sun, it's surface still and calm as there wasn't a sign of wind in the air. It smelled rather dry, a little fishy and yet fresh. It was the closest thing to the ocean I would get and I was thankful for the small amount of free water I was given.

To my big surprise, I wasn't alone.

Down the hill, by the shadow of a rather old and half-dead elm tree, were two boys. Both of which looked to be around my age. One of them – with a rather pale complexion to his slender, lean body and sleek white-blonde, pulled back hairstyle – sat on top of a large rock facing the water. The other one taller, rather handsome from behind, with explicit traits and dark skin. His even darker hair cut short on top of his head. They were both dressed in black attires, including black pants, shoes and the darker one was wearing a black suit jacket, while the blonde one's was lying on the rock next to where he was sitting, now left with only a white button-up shirt.

They were obviously talking low about something and I could every now and then extinguish some of their voices, but not what they were saying. The dark boy kept on skipping stones on the water, only every now and then quitting to search for more on the rocky grounds.

The next thing I knew – the ground gave in underneath me. I had been standing way too close to the edge of the dirty, sloping hill down toward the shore and before I knew better - I was tumbling down screaming on the top of my lungs.

“Oh god,” I mumbled as I finally came to a stop. My right knee was aching and I was pretty sure I had bruised at least half of my body.

“How long have you been eavesdropping?” a voice demanded somewhere above me. I grunted, shook my head to get the dirt from my hair, heaved myself up on my elbows and managed to get into a sitting position. I had been right, my pants had been ripped on my right knee and red blood was now pouring out of it. Great job, Arielle.

“I said, how long have you been eavesdropping, mudblood!” The person repeated, much more aggressive this time. I trailed my eyes upward, only to meet the sharp, pointy face of the blond boy. His grey eyes cold as he stood over me, his sleeves on his shirt recklessly rolled up.

Immediately my stubbornness kicked in. “I wasn't eavesdropping, you turd!” I pushed myself off the ground, disappointed as I realised he was still a head taller than me even in my full length. “The ground was unsteady and I slipped!”

“Liar!”
“You're crazy,” I concluded and dusted off my sweatshirt.

“Who are you?” The dark boy then asked. He was standing in the same spot as before, only now turned toward me. In his hand he kept on playing with the leftover stones he had picked up. His facial features rigid as his close to black eyes watched me from far.

I didn't get the chance of answering before the blonde broke in: “She's a mudblood, that's what she is.” He took a step backwards as if I was contagious some sort of disease.

“I am not a mudblood!” I spat, my eyes bravely glaring at him.

The blonde wasn't finished. “Wait, are you a boy or a girl?” The smug grin across his face tempted me to slap it right off him, though I knew better than react to a comment as such, as I was used to hearing it.

“Hold up,” the other boy said, finally letting the stones he had been holding drop to the ground. He shoved his hands inside his pockets, posing in a model-kind of style halfway leaned back and with the face twisted in wonder. “You're that new girl who moved in with the Avery's, aren't you?” I didn't know whether he was judging me or not.

“The one and only,” I answered bitterly.

“Brilliant, another charity case we don't need,” the blonde growled. “Why don't you pack your trunk of dirt and get back to where you came from, eavesdropper.”

“For the last time,” I said, my voice shaking, “I was not eavesdropping you arrogant toad!”

“As if I would believe that,” he answered before turning and walking back to his precious rock to lean his back against it.

“What are you afraid of, pretty boy, that I'd hear you plot some Death Eater business out here in the open in the middle of the day?” I was acting on rage right about now, not thinking about any of the words coming out of my mouth. Talking about, let about calling someone, a Death Eater, was as close as a murder as a sin compared to religious muggles.

Everyone in the Wizarding world had heard something about them. How they terrorized and tortured people for fun under the demands of You-Know-Who – the most awful being on earth – who also, according to the famous Harry Potter, had come back to life only a couple of months ago. The magazines called the young wizard crazy, though I had no idea what to believe. Being shipped off to the country of which You-Know-How had his bearings in at an insecure time as this, was probably the worst decision my supervisor had ever taken.

The blonde stiffened by my comment, while the darker one narrowed his eyes at me.
“You should be careful with what you throw out there,” said the dark one.
I decided to try another aspect of approach. “How do you know the Avery's?”

“I don't,” said the dark one. “Malfoy's father does business with Mr Avery and your practically neighbours.” Right, the other mansion I had seen on my way here, the blonde boy must be living there.

“Quit giving her information, Zabini!” the blonde – Malfoy – spat. “She might be one of them!”

“One of them – who? The monsters underneath your bed?” I mocked.

The blonde shot up from his rock and pointed a long, bony finger at me, his eyes squinting and shooting lightnings. “Careful, mudblood, if I was allowed to practice magic outside school I would-”

“You'd what?” I interrupted. “Turn me into a toad? I'd love to see you try.”

“You'll have to excuse his attitude, he didn't get the breakfast he wanted this morning,” said Zabini with a tiny smirk in the corner of his mouth.

“At least I don't have a mother who sleeps around with the first man who waves at her,” Malfoy growled back.

“Seems like being a rich, arrogant wanker is awfully exhausting,” I commented without expressing any interest.

“Clever, did you learn that from that charity-orphanage of yours?” Malfoy said.

“Actually no, I read it in A Guide to Deal with Stuffed Idiots who are Full of Themselves!”

Malfoy grunted underneath his breath and reached for his suit jacket from the rock, threw it over his shoulder and motioned to walk away.

“I've had enough of this, see you tomorrow, Blaise,” he called over his shoulder as he disappeared. “Hope to never see you, mudblood!”

“My name is Arielle!” I yelled after him out of rage. “Arielle Acestone!”

He didn't even turn back to look at me. Really great first impression, Arielle, that's exactly the way to get some friends. If I only would learn to keep my mouth shut when needed…

I stood there, breathing heavily, my hands tight in a knot with my knuckles turning white. I could hit someone right now if I wanted to. For a moment I even forgot the other boy was still there, that until he cleared his throat to gain my attention. I jerked back and searched with my eyes for him, but it was unnecessary, considering he was still standing in the same place as before.

“Sorry,” I breathed. “He just – he was – you know.”
“I know,” he nodded. “Acestone? Any relatives with the Acestone's in Manchester?”
I relaxed my muscles and allowed myself to let go of that uncomfortable feeling which had been creeping up on me.

“I wouldn't know if I was,” I admitted.
He nodded, not knowing how to answer to such a statement.
“What was your name? Blaise?”
“Yes, Blaise Zabini.”
“That's highly unusual.”
“So is Arielle Acestone,” he noted.

We stood still and quiet for a while, an awkward atmosphere surrounding us thick enough to cut it with a knife.

“Eh-,” I begun after five very long minutes, “do you – um – go to Hogwarts?”
“Yes, my fifth year.”
“Same,” I said awkwardly and waved my hand in the air – why would I do that?
Blaise pulled up his sleeve to glance at his watch and then it struck me – I had promised to be back at four o'clock!

“What time is it?” I immediately asked.
“Half past three,” he said.

“Oh no!” I exclaimed and heaved my backpack higher up on my shoulder. “I'm late.” I turned around to begin climb the hill. Mr and Mrs Avery would kill me! “It was… interesting …. meeting you and your friend.”

“Same regarding you,” called Blaise after me as I disappeared over the hill.

Ny läsare, bevakar

Gillar att du skriver på engelska, det känns som det blir mer äkta då ibland.

Åhh finns inget bättre än riktigt långa kapitel! Dessutom på engelska. Alltsååå ♥3..

Wooow alltid kul med nya läsare! Tusen tack :'D



Taaaack! Du gjorde mig sååå glad!! :'))

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Chapter three
Dinner with the Malfoys

Mrs Avery did not kill me as I arrived late for dinner, I had stumbled into the dining hall, sweat running down my forehead, my clothes ripped and without a breath left in my lungs. The three of them had already sat down to eat and I had obviously interrupted something, as Mr Avery was cut off in the middle of a sentence.

“I – am – sorry,” I breathed as I had flung through the door.
Mrs Avery got up to her feet. “Oh my – what happened to your clothes, Arielle?”
I glanced down at my torn jeans and the dirt on my sweatshirt. I must look like a homeless person.
“Right – eh – I fell,” I tried to explain.
“You're bleeding,” she said.

“I am? Oh right, yes, but it's nothing to worry about,” I said before meeting the disapproved look from Mr Avery. Arnatt kept his head down, pretending to be very interested in his meat and vegetables. “Sorry.”

“Why don't you go and clean yourself up before joining us for dinner?” suggested Mr Avery.

“Yes – of course – right away.” And I skidded out of the dining hall again, sprinted up the stairs and closed my bedroom door tightly behind me. There, I finally was able to breathe out. I can't believe I lost the track of time the first day at our new foster family. The look upon Mr Avery's face imprinted into my brain like a scar.

I tossed my backpack on my neatly made bed and went into the bathroom to look at the mess I had caused. Thankful for the magic, I was aware of that my clothes would heal to become as new, as for my dirty face, messed-up hair and the cut on my knee. I pulled the sweatshirt over my head and tossed it in the laundry basket before taking a good look at my own reflection. I wasn't pale though I didn't get much colour in the sun. My fingers naturally finding de ten centimetre long scar running from underneath my ribs toward my hips. I could still feel the sharp pain of the blade slicing through my skin and I shuddered out of the memory.

“Arielle?” my brother's voice came from the other side of the bathroom door.
“Vad är det?” I asked. (*What is it?)
“De frågar efter dig där nere.”
“In English!” I answered as I desperately looked around for a clean shirt, but of course, Scrooge had put them all in my drawer.

“They're looking for you downstairs and sent me to get you,” he said in his broken English. To be fair, he was very good at it for being eight years old and never really used it before. Perhaps because I used to make him practice, such as now.

“I'm almost done,” I said before drowning my face with warm water in order to try and get the dirt and sweat off. “Could you pass me a clean shirt and pants?”

“What?”
“En ren skjorta och jeans från min byrålåda.” (*A clean shirt and pants from my drawer)
“Sure.”

I heard his footsteps, then the drawer opening and closing, then I opened the door and stuck my arm out. I pulled the clean t-shirt over my head, wiggled out of my dirty jeans and put on the new one and gave my reflection a quick last glance. I looked all right now, most of the dirt and blood was gone. I would have to care for the cut on my knee later.

“Well, what do you think?” I asked as I stepped out of the bathroom. Arnatt gave me a boring look. “What is it?”

“You're doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Förstör saker.” (*destroying things)

“I am not! I lost the track of time, truthfully. I met these two idiots down by the stream and then-”
“Stop it!” Arnatt's begging voice made me shut up. “It's always like this. You screw things up. I like these people. They're nice, so quit being a brat.”

“I am not a brat!” I defended myself. “I just lost track of time, honestly.”
“I don't believe you!” Arnatt cried loudly. Probably loud enough for Mr and Mrs Avery to hear him. I took a step closer to him, to try and calm him down, but he stepped aside. “If you want to leave, then leave, I want to stay here. Dra inte med mig i dina planer!” (*don't pull me into your plans).

“Arnatt-”
“Don't.” Tears came running down his pretty, round face and I felt my heart breaking. I hated when people cried, no matter what might have caused it.

I took a step back as footsteps appeared from the hallway and seconds later into the room rushed both Mr and Mrs Avery. Mrs Avery searching my face, finding my right hand turned into a fist, before finding Arnatt's torn look and I knew. I knew too well what would be the outcome of this, there were nothing stopping it now.

Mrs Avery hurried over to Arnatt, putting a comforting arm over his shoulders. “What is going on? Arielle?” She looked at me with those pleading eyes.
I hesitated. “Nothing.”

“Doesn't look like nothing,” she said carefully.
“Nothing happened, right, Arnatt?” I pushed, looking straight into the eyes of my little brother, his underlip trembling, tears still streaming down his face like a waterfall. I wanted nothing more than for Mr and Mrs Avery to disappear and for me to embrace my little brother. Though it was not possible, it would probably never be anymore.

“Arnatt?” asked Mrs Avery softly, gaining his attention.
“Why don't you bring the lad downstairs, Monica? There is still some ice-cream in the fridge if I remember it correctly.” When Mr Avery spoke, it sounded more like a statement than a suggestion.

“That sounds good, doesn't it, Arnatt?” said Mrs Avery and brought my little brother with her through the door. As their footsteps had died out, Mr Avery turned to face me. I looked away, walked across the room and pushed my backpack to the floor to sit down on my bed.

“Well then,” said Mr Avery and closed the door behind him as he completely entered the room. “Quite the scene you caused there, little lady.”

“What makes you think I caused it?” I immediately answered.
He pulled the chair from my desk and sat down on it in front of me. I avoided to meet his eyes, afraid of the disappointment I would see.

“In two weeks you'll go to Hogwarts,” he begun slowly. “We have two weeks together here until you won't have to see us for another couple of months, if you don't want to, that is.”

“What's your point?”
“My point is, do you want to make this work, or will you make these two weeks a living hell?”
I opened my mouth, ready to strike a comment, but shut it again as I realised he was too right to argue.

He stood up, put the chair back into its place and walked towards the door. As he opened it, he turned around. “Think about it and let me know.” Then he exited and left me all alone.

_________________________________________________________

Saturday and dinner with the Malfoy's came way too early for me to prepare for it. I did stay on top of my behaviour until then though, only to make my brother happy and not because Mr Avery had presented the ultimatum.

As Saturday evening approached, I found myself once again inside my bedroom, though this time standing in front of the full-body mirror next to my desk. I rarely wore dresses, to be honest, I think I had only worn a dress once before. To my mother's funeral.

This dress was slim, tight and fitted my body perfectly. Mrs Avery had bought it a week before our arrival and given it to me as one of our 'welcome-home' gifts. I couldn't decide if I liked it on my body or not. It was long enough to cover my knees (and the awful cut that still hadn't completely healed), with sleeves reaching halfway down to my elbows. It wasn't too low-cut by the chest, though one could see my breasts much more clear than when I wore a sweatshirt. I actually did look rather feminine with clothes like these, who would've thought?

“Arnatt! Arielle! Hurry up to get downstairs, please,” called Mrs Avery's voice from the foot of the stairs. I gave myself one last look in the mirror, taking in the small amount of make-up I had let Mrs Avery put on my face – only a bit to outline my most distinctive facial features.

At least I wouldn't have to wear high heels.

As I made it downstairs, Mr Avery stood ready to welcome our quests by the front door, dressed in one of his expensive, black suits and enough cologne to be able to smell from a mile away. Mrs Avery was standing next to him, beautiful as ever, with her blonde hair in curly, elegant locks and long eyelashes flashing as she smiled.

“You look beautiful,” said Mrs Avery. I smiled at my sock-covered feet as I stood beside her. Arnatt came running down the stairs then, dressed in an identical suit as Mr Avery. To top it all off, he had, for some odd reason, even let Mrs Avery style his hair not to fall into his eyes. He looked way older with his bangs pulled to the side.

“Looking handsome, lad,” greeted Mr Avery.
“Thank you, sir,” said Arnatt proudly as he stepped beside me, his hands linked behind his back and back straightened. I had never seen him like this and it scared me.

Three short knocks on the door, a short pause, and then Mr Avery reached out to open the door. Three people stepped inside, one of which I had already met, two of which I wished I had never seen.
I had a strong lust of bursting out 'YOU' as I saw the blonde boy, but thought better of it and kept myself quiet.

“Lucius!” greeted Mr Avery the grown man. He was a perfect resemblance of his son, the same white-blonde hair – only his was much longer and pulled back completely – the pale complexion, the same cold, grey eyes and pointy face. In his hand he held a walking stick with a silver snake head on its handle. I had to count to ten not to shudder as I took in his appearance.

“Jack,” answered Mr Malfoy and shook hands with him. “Business as usual, I hope?”
“As always,” Mr Avery answered before reaching out to the woman standing behind her husband. “Narcissa, stunning as always.”

Mr Malfoy's wife, Narcissa, was a tall woman with slim physical features both in body and head, her pale complexion in perfect line with her long, blonde hair and blue eyes. To be honest, she would make a hell of a stereotypical Swede.

“As do you,” Narcissa greeted him. Then Mr Malfoy greeted Mrs Avery by a peck on the cheek, commenting her stunning dress, before his eyes fell on me and my brother. I got a sudden impulse of wanting to grab Arnatt by the arm and pull him out of there, but my limbs were starstruck.

“Draco, come here,” Mr Malfoy ordered with a cold voice. I swallowed. Had he told them about our meeting the other day? I hope not. Draco appeared like a ghost from behind his father after greeting Mr and Mrs Avery, not looking at me nor my brother or his father.

Mr Malfoy put a heavy hand on his son's shoulder before shooting me what should have been a nice smile. “You must be Arielle, I suppose?” I nodded slowly.
Mr Avery looked at me from over his wife. “Use the English language I know you speak so well, please.”

I cleared my throat, feeling my cheeks getting warm. “Yes – eh – yes, sir.” I forced myself to look into those stone cold eyes, Draco still not glancing at me.
“Fifteen years old, am I correct?” Mr Malfoy then continued with a low voice.
I licked my lips. “Yes, sir.”

“Isn't that quite interesting,” said Mr Malfoy and pushed Draco forward. “This is my son Draco, he seems to have forgotten how to be properly mannered.” The last words cutting like a knife through paper and I felt like that comment was more directed at me than his son.

I felt like I needed to say something. Quick! “Yes, actually we have-…” I quit in the middle of my sentence, as Draco's eyes darted upwards to meet mine before discretely shaking his head slowly back and forth in almost invisible movements. “… eh – I mean – Mr Avery mentioned you had a son my age.”

“Did you now, Jack?” said Mr Malfoy and turned to Mr Avery again. I felt myself relax.
“I might have said a thing or two,” shrugged Mr Avery.
“Well then, how convenient,” said Mr Malfoy as he turned to my little brother. “And this must me Arnatt.”
“Yes, sir,” said my brother proudly.

“Why don't we move into the dining room?” suggested Mrs Avery and led the way through the hallway. I searched desperately for the eyes of Draco as we walked, but he avoided them like the plague. Why had he stopped me from telling his father that we'd already met?

We sat down around the candle-lit dining table. Mr Avery at the end with Mrs Avery to the right and Mr Malfoy to the left. Mrs Malfoy next to him and then Draco. I was sitting next to Mrs Avery, across from Draco, with Arnatt next to me.

Scrooge appeared with the appetisers, a shrimp sandwich with some sort of crème fresh filling with dill on top.

“So, Arielle,” Mr Malfoy called out after we'd eaten the appetisers. He and Mr Avery had just ended a long conversation about their current business, which had been about some economic status in the far end of Scotland. They had mentioned something about gnomes, but I hadn't been able to pick up the rest of their conversation over the one the women had been chatting about – a pregnant woman in the village who was carrying another man's child before her own husband.

“Yes, sir?” I asked.
“Did they teach you any proper magic over at that school of your in – which country was it you're from? Norway? Finland?”
Mr Avery cut in. “Sweden, Lucius, they're from Sweden.”
“Right, my bad.” He wasn't the least sorry.
“The studies were fine, sir.”

“You'll take your O.W.L's this year, won't you, Draco? As the same for you of course,” Mr Malfoy commented eyeing me noticeably. “Draco has close to top-marks in all his classes, except of course – what was that muggleborn's name again - ?”

“Granger, father,” said Draco with a sour voice. He had barely touched his appetiser.
“Didn't you enjoy your sandwich, sweetie? We could bring you something else if-”
Mr Malfoy cut Mrs Avery off. “He is fine, aren't you Draco?”
“Yes.”

“Well, in case of any questions about Hogwarts, I am sure Draco would be happy to answer them, right boy?”

I glanced over at Draco, he was pretending to be very fascinated about his shoes and didn't answer his father.

“I'll have to apologize for his behaviour, he's been a real teenager this Summer,” said Mr Malfoy with a sharp voice.

“Comes with the age,” commented Mr Avery with a short look at me.
“Yes, well, hopefully they'll grow during this school year as they are about to take their O.W.L's,” intercepted Mrs Malfoy. She reached out for her glass of wine to take a quick sip.
“One may only hope,” agreed Mr Avery.

Scrooge hurried into the dining hall to collect the empty plates (or mostly empty) to replace them with the main course – Black and blushing Worcestershire fillet, baked beans, pan-fried potatoes and bearnaise sauce. As we begun eating, the adults kept on with their normal topics, leaving us alone.

“Arielle,” whispered Arnatt.
“What?” I whispered back.
He gave Draco a quick look, who had reacted to us whispering, so he turned to ask me in Swedish as if he was afraid Draco would say something. “Can you help me with cutting my steak?”

“Sure,” I mumbled and reached over to cut it for him. I did it quickly and with easy moves, to try and avoid anyone from really noticing. Except Draco, who was staring at me like I was some freak.

“Got a problem?” I commented low enough for no one else to hear.
Draco raised his gaze and narrowed his eyes at me. “No.” Then he turned back to pretending to eat his food. Perhaps he was allergic? Or didn't like meat? No, he was probably just too spoiled to eat the same food as us orphans.

“Lucius, what do you say about a refreshment in my study?” asked Mr Avery as Scrooge appeared to clear the table twenty minutes later. I was so full I wasn't sure I would be able to walk. Arnatt sat anxiously beside me, kicking his legs, the kid really needed to get up soon and stretch, otherwise he would go nuts.

“That would be quite fitting after such a meal,” answered Mr Malfoy and they excused themselves and left the living room.
“Why don't the three of you go outside until dessert is served?” suggested Mrs Avery who clearly had noticed Arnatt's kicking legs.

“Sure,” I said and got up immediately closely followed by my little brother. Draco didn't motion to move, though got up quickly as his mother whispered something in his ear and then followed us outside through the back door.

Arnatt ran away as the door slammed shut behind us, he had said he wanted to take a look at the plants they had made today.

“Why did you pretend like we hadn't met before in front of your parents?” I asked at once.
Draco pushed his hands down his pockets, pretending to look offended. “I did no such thing.”
“Then why did you shake your head like a scared, little puppy?”

“I did not! I simply did it because I thought you weren't capable enough to form so many words after one another in the English language!” Draco said briskly. He kicked a loose piece of stone from the doorstep we were standing on, it didn't get far before it disappeared out of sight behind a couple of bushes.

I took a step backwards, pursed my lips and gave it a long thought before answering.

“So you're not scared of your father?” I said it with a simple tone, not judging nor mocking, just analysing and stating the fact I was pretty sure of. I was also sure of the answer I would get.

“What? Have you gone completely crazy? Of course not!” he growled and stepped away from me to watch my little brother looking at the plants. “What's his problem?”

“Nothing, he is a kid,” I answered.
“Who can't cut his own steak.” Now that's an insult.
“At least he ate it,” I pointed out.
“I didn't like it.”

“What? Too burnt for Pretty Boy? Or perhaps too hot or too cold? Would you like me to go inside and ask Scrooge to make you another one?”
“Sod off.”

I was surprised by his response, he was way more chatty the first time I had met him, as if he only waited to be able to get into an argument about nonsense. “That's all you got?”

“I don't want to talk about it, all right?” He shot me a glance of disgust, but I decided to ignore it. Even I knew when it was time to quit the fun.

We stood still for a while, watching my brother and the sunset. It was going to be a cloudy and stormy night, with thunder sounding in the far distance. I liked thunder, I usually sat by the window watching the lightnings from the far distance and then listening to the sound as the lightning stuck the hard, cold ground.

“He is just like Neville Longbottom,” muttered Draco after a long silence. Arnatt was now in the middle of digging in the dirt around one of the plants, causing his suit to get dirty. I wanted to yell at him to quit it, but then the conversation from earlier this week hit me like a punch in the stomach, so I didn't.

“Who?” I asked Draco instead.
“A mudblood from Gryffindor,” he replied shortly.

I really wanted to comment him for once again saying mudblood, but my curiosity for who this Neville was and what Gryffindor was took over. Of course I remembered Mr and Mrs Avery talking about Gryffindor and if I remembered it correctly, it was one of the houses at Hogwarts. Not that I understood what that really meant yet.

“Gryffindor?” I asked.
Draco sighed and I was sure he would mock me for my question, but to my surprise, he didn't. “It's the mudblood house at Hogwarts, all the stupid and annoying people are in that house.” His voice sounded even more bitter now. “Such as Granger, Weasley and Potter.”

“Potter? Not Harry Potter?”

“Of course Harry Potter! Who else? He is a dumb wimp who is only getting off easy by his fame. I don't understand what Dumbledore or any of the other teachers see in him. We'd be better off without him.”

“Sounds like you're jealous,” I commented.

Draco jerked and turned to stare at me as if I had just said I would like to marry a house-elf.

“Me? Jealous of Saint Potter? HA! That's the most stupid thing you've ever stated.” He expressed a bitter laugh.

“So which house is the best then?” I continued, trying to work around the mocking and arguments for a while.

“Why, Slytherin of course,” he said proudly. “Where the students with ambition and cunningness belongs. We also don't get mudbloods or nasty blood traitors into our house, like the rest of them.”

“What about the rest of the houses?” I asked.

He didn't look pleased that I didn't continue asking about his obviously precious house, but I didn't care.

“There's Ravenclaw, for the people who only have got so-called brains, but most of those students are pretty stupid anyway. Hufflepuff is basically a group of dimwits.” That didn't exactly explain much.

“Based on your … analysis … which house would I be fit in?” I then asked. I was prepared for Huffepuff or Gryffindor, considering those two sounded like they were his least favourite ones. Though never judge a book by its cover, or should I say – never judge a boy by his face.

“Slytherin,” he concluded, “your witted tongue would be a perfect fit in our house, Ace.”

Jättebra kapitel verkligen.

Chapter four
The Hogwarts Letter

On the 27th of August, the most anticipated delivery arrived. I think my brother was way more excited than I was, because he spent the whole morning after breakfast gazing through the window.
“It might not come today,” Mrs Avery kept saying. “Because of all the things going on in the world I bet the teachers are having their hands full.”
Though she was wrong, a quarter to ten a small dot suddenly appeared in the sky which had not been there before. As it grew bigger by the second, soon Arnatt was standing on his toes, reaching out through the window while yelling on repeat “it's an owl! It's an owl!”. And so my letter to Hogwarts arrived.
The barn owl flew in through the window, pulled its huge wings toward its body and landed peacefully on the kitchen counter. Arnatt was the first one to approach it to accept the letter from its beak. The second the paper left the owl's body, it spread it wings, squeaked loudly and disappeared back through the open window.
“Look!” Arnatt cried and pushed the letter far up my face so I wasn't able to make out anything of what was printed on the cover.
I snatched the letter from his hands to get a better look at the envelope.

Miss A. Acestone
The second biggest upstairs bedroom
2. Salisbury Main Road
Salisbury Plain
Whiltshire

“Isn't it cool?” said Arnatt, his watery eyes watching mine intently. “Open it!”
“I will, take it easy,” I muttered and flipped the envelope to open it. It included two pieces of papers – one of which looked to be a list of required books and other necessities while the other one was a personal letter written to me.
“Is that the book list?” asked Mrs Avery over my shoulder. “Mind if I take a look at that?”
I handed her the second letter while eyeing the first one.
“Can't you read it out loud?” asked Arnatt excitedly.
I sighed, but gave in. “Dear Ms Acestone. We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to begin your fifth year education. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. You will be placed in one of the Houses as you arrive at the school grounds. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress.”
I flipped the letter, looking for something in case there were some hidden messages written on the back, but there were none. I handed it to my annoying brother before turning to Mrs Avery who was currently scanning my supply list.
“Is it a lot?” I asked, knowing that education did not come cheap in the Wizarding world. In Sweden I had gotten everything second hand and borrowed all of my books from school. Perhaps it worked the same way with Hogwarts?
“Not too much, though I do believe all of it won't fit inside that small bag of yours you brought,” Mrs Avery stated and handed me my letter back.
“What?” I asked suspiciously as a mysterious grin spread across her face.
“Don't freak out,” she said, holding her hands up in defence. “I know you said you didn't want anything else after you arrived here, but you really do need a trunk to fit all your things to bring to Hogwarts.”
“What are you-”
She held a hand up, silencing me, as she disappeared through the door to the broom closet and appeared seconds later, pulling a brown trunk – with fancy leather covered corners – behind her.
“Jack and I thought you'd like it,” she stated as she dropped it in front of me. “Whether you like it or not, you'll need it.”
I squeezed my mouth shut, knowing when I was defeated. “I really do, don't I?”
Mrs Avery nodded. “If it makes you feel any better, now it's even between you and Arnatt because of him getting that broomstick yesterday.”
My little brother reached over and opened the trunk. “I could fit in here!” And then he crawled into it, smiling as wide as the sun while watching us. “Not too comfortable, though.”
Mrs Avery chuckled. “You silly boy.” She reached down to ruffle his hair before straightening up and stretching. “I suppose a visit to Diagon Alley is in order then?”
“YES!” exclaimed Arnatt and jumped up from the coffin. “When?”
“Tomorrow,” decided Mrs Avery. “Perhaps Draco will join us.”
I felt my heart sink inside my chest, I hadn't seen him since the family dinner and to be honest, I was not excited to ever see him again. Even though I had to admit the last conversation we'd had hadn't been too bad. We hadn't stated too many insults towards each other and he actually did explain some interesting aspects about Hogwarts and its houses – that except the fact that he thought Slytherin was the only house there were.
Mrs Avery helped me get my trunk upstairs so I could move some of my things from my old suitcase to my new, fancy one. There weren't many days left before I'd leave and perhaps not come back to see them until Christmas. It felt weird, I had never been without seeing my brother for more than a day before. It made a sick feeling grow inside my stomach.
As Mrs Avery left my room, I reached down to grab my old, well-worn grey suitcase from the floor. I hadn't even unpacked it yet even though we had been there for almost two weeks soon. The only time I had opened it was to get a couple of pieces of new clothes – even though Mrs Avery had given my plenty new ones.
I put the suitcase on top of my bed and unzipped it, revealing its contents. It wasn't a lot. It was barely anything. I picked up my one and only stuffed animal, a teddy bear with one of his eyes torn off after Arnatt as a toddler had gotten his hands on it. I had been mad at him for over a month after that.
I put the teddy bear down on the bed and picked up a framed photograph of me and Arnatt. He was three years old in that photo – glancing up at me every now and then before chuckling, waving his then thick, toddlers-arms and then smiling at the camera. I had been ten in that picture, my slim spaghetti-arms hugging his body tightly while uncertainly looking at the camera. I had never liked photos, but I did like this one.
Next I picked up an old, silver hairbrush. I breathed slowly as I weighted it in my hands. It was one of the few things in value with I owned, with a fabulous carved in heart on the back of the brush together with my mother's initials – E.A. I pushed the tears back into my head, squeezing my eyes shut as the burning feeling appeared behind them. I dropped the brush and covered it underneath a sweatshirt from the suitcase.
The last thing inside my suitcase – besides other pieces of clothing – was my diary. It wasn't the kind of diary which I kept writing in when I was in a foul mood or when a boy had broken my heart. It was my sacred diary which no one would ever be allowed to touch. It's pages basically impossible to read because of the torn, yellowish pages, its smeared ink because of the tears and the torn papers which I had tried my best to put back together with Spello-tape. I knew the diary inside out, I was able to point out the exact page without holding it, describe the perfect picture of which each specific page told. It was only ink and paper bound together inside a binding of two cardboard pieces, but it meant more to me than anyone ever would.

______________________________________________________________

“Arielle, do you mind getting that?” Mrs Avery called from the kitchen as there were three hard knocks coming from the front door. I dropped the last of my personal belongings into my trunk and skidded down the stairs to reach the door.
“Hello-oh.” I blinked twice at the person on the other side of the door. “What are you doing here?” My voice immediately turning hostile.
Blaise Zabini held up his letter from Hogwarts, obviously trying to make a point. “I need to talk to you.”
“About what?” I asked, not giving him a chance to come inside the house.
He sighed and dropped his hand down his side. “I have been given the task of answering any of your questions regarding Hogwarts.”
“Why?”
“How the hell would I know? Now will you let me in or not?” Blaise growled.
“Fine,” I muttered and let him slip past me inside the house. “In here.” I directed him into our private library and shut the sliding doors behind us. The last thing I needed was for my little brother to appear asking questions.
Blaise eyed the walls, which were all filled with books, books and even more books. Every book about magic you could possibly find was probably stacked right here. With two sofas in the middle, a rather large earth-globe in one corner together with a golden telescope in front of the curtain-covered windows.
“Shall we sit?” I asked and gestured toward the sofas. Blaise rarely moved a facial muscle as he walked over and sat down. I sat down opposite of him, pulling my legs underneath my butt.
“My annual welcome-back-to-school letter included directions about visiting you and asking in case you have any questions about Hogwarts,” he explained, sounding obviously bitter. “At first I though I had been given the task of a prefect, but clearly not.”
“What's a prefect?” I asked.
He rolled his eyes at me. “It's a fifth, sixth or seventh year student who has been given extra authority and responsibilities.”
I nodded, not knowing what to say next. A thick, awkward silence grew between us and I felt like I needed to get out of my own skin and it still wouldn't be enough to escape the tension. Blaise kept tapping his finger against his letter on repeat, filling the room with an irritating ticking noise bouncing on the walls.
I sighed loudly without really realising it.
“There are four houses at Hogwarts,” Blaise stated.
“I know,” I answered boringly. “Mr and Mrs Avery already told me and Draco explained some of their attributes to me.”
“Draco was here?”
I nodded. “Yes, he and his family came over a couple of days ago for dinner.”
Blaise frowned, looking confused.
“What?” I asked.
“He didn't mention it yesterday when I met him,” Blaise said.
“Are you two like – good friends?” I decided to put good instead of best in my sentence, considering neither of them seemed like the type to have best friends.
Blaise shrugged. “We're in the same grade, same house and lives close to each other.”
“Cool,” I said.
“Have you decided on which subjects you're going to take?” Blaise then asked and unfolded his letter to scan it with his dark eyes.
“What subjects?” I asked. To be honest, I hadn't read through the supply list and I hadn't exactly thought specifically about any sort of subjects.
Blaise breathed a long breath. “You'll need to decide which two additional subjects you want to read this year for your O.W.L's, we already chose ours in the beginning of third year.”
I blinked like a dumb troll.
“So basically,” Blaise begun to explain, “you are required to take the following core subjects: Astronomy, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts – total shitload considering we never have the same teacher each year – Herbology,” my stomach twisted at this, “History of Magic, Potions and Transfiguration.”
“All of those are required?” I asked.
“Yes, those are the classes we all have to take in order to graduate,” he answered.
“And I still have to choose two more?”
“Indeed, you may choose from Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures – that's totally taught by an incompetent loaf – Divination, Muggle Studies – as if anyone'd like to know anything about those people – and Ancient Runes.”
My head was spinning out of all the options, none of which seemed like it'd fit me rather well. I wasn't interested in any of them, except perhaps the magical creatures, but Blaise had said it was taught by a bad teacher. Would it still be worth it?
“Which two subjects did you choose?” I asked.
“Care of Magical Creatures and Divination, unfortunately,” he said.
“Are those classes hard?”
“Not the least, they're better than Anciet Runes for example, where they get a whole load of homework each week or Arithmancy which is basically on an N.E.W.T – level already,” explained Blaise and folded his letter and put it in his inside jacket pocket. “If you want to pass easily then take the ones I took.”
“Sounds like the best option,” I agreed and leaned back in the sofa. Not that I believed in any of the Divination-hocus-pocus, we had had a similar class in Sweden and it had as well been a bunch of stupid imaginary presumptions.
We shot up from our seats as the doors flew open, my heart raced inside my chest and my eyes flickered back and forth looking for the source who might have caused it. My first thought would be Arnatt who possibly could've been eavesdropping, but I breathed out as I saw Mrs Avery standing in the doorway.
“Blaise, is that you?” she said as he found the boy. “I haven't seen you in ages, how's your mother?”
“She is very well, thank you,” Blaise answered with standard politeness.
“That's wonderful,” said Mrs Avery. She glanced at me quickly before turning back to Blaise. “I had no idea you and Arielle knew each other.”
“We don't.” the both of us answered in unison.
“I mean – we met – briefly – once…”
“I'm here on behalf of Hogwarts,” Blaise intercepted. “They sent me a letter hoping I'd give Arielle some updated information about the school.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “He told me about the subjects I'll need to choose from in order to graduate.”
“How lovely,” said Mrs Avery. “Are you staying for dinner?”
Blaise shook his head, stepping forward as if he was preparing to leave. “Unfortunately not, I'll have to get going, my mother is waiting. Another time, for sure.”
“All right then, have a safe walk home, thank you for coming by.”
“Any time,” said Blaise and gave me a quick glance over the shoulder. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
Then he was gone and I could relax once again.
“What a polite young man, don't you agree?” said Mrs Avery. She walked over to the sofas to straighten up the pillows on top. “I wonder if he was named prefect…”
“He wasn't,” I stated, leaving her to clean up any trail we could possibly have left behind us in the library.

Jättebra

Chapter five
Diagon Alley

The following day there were five people packed in the living room of Avery manor. Two females and three males. One adult and four children. One utterly excited who tried his best not to pee himself because of this, one nervous person who seemed to have lost her wand, two annoyed and bored teenage boys with their hands stuffed inside their pockets. Then there was me. I didn't know what to say nor do.
“Perhaps you left it in the kitchen?” I suggested as Mrs Avery fanatically searched her purse for her wand. “You used it this morning to clean the top shelf, remember?” One could ask why a wealthy woman would choose to clean herself when she had a perfectly working house-elf, though only one who knew Mrs Avery would know she loved to clean. For real.
“I don't think so – oh – here it is!” she pulled her wand out of her purse, finally. “Well then, let's get going. Would you boys mind showing Arielle how it works after me and Arnatt disappears? You have never used the Floo Network have you, sweetie?”
I felt my cheeks burn. “I'll be fine.” I could see the smile out of satisfaction smiling on the blonde's face and I wished internally that I could slap it right off him then and there.
“All right, you know the rules, right?” Mrs Avery continued as she took the lid off the jar containing Floo Powder.
“Yes,” I muttered.
“Stay in-…”
“Stay in the Diagon Alley, don't go to Knockturn Alley, buy the school supplies and be at the Leaky Cauldron by five thirty. Got it,” I summered up. She had been giving me this lecture five times this morning. Ever since I forgot the time once it seemed like it was a good idea to repeat the same time over and over again. I just wish she wouldn't have to do it in front of the guys.
“Good, now, have a good day you three,” she said. She and Arnatt approached the fireplace, took a handful of Floo Powder with one hand as she held a tight grip onto my little brother with the other. Then she threw the powder into the burning fire before saying: “Diagon Alley!” They entered the now green fire, a small POFF was heard and they were gone.
“Would you like a step-by-step description, Ace?” Draco mocked as the smoke had cleared out. I narrowed my eyes at him, imagining all the different ways I could possibly hurt him.
“Be quiet,” I mumbled.
“I'll go first,” said Blaise. He looked tired, probably because my foster mother had insisted on sending his mother a last-minute owl this morning asking in case he'd like to join us today. In her mind me and him were probably best friends walking on clouds as we had spoken twice before.
Blaise threw the powder, uttered the destination, stepped into the fire and disappeared, leaving me all alone with Draco.
“Sure you've got your supply list tucked in there?” Draco continued to mock me as I reached for the powder.
“Do you want to get slapped across the face?” I answered bitter-sweetly.
His satisfied smile disappeared. “You won't dare.”
“Try me,” I challenged before doing the same ritual the three travellers before me had done. As I disappeared into the fire, I squeezed my eyes shut hard, tucked my elbows close to my body and told myself to keep my breathing normal and steady. The next thing I knew, I was laying face-down on a hardwood floor. I coughed loudly and reached out to rub my eyes clear from the soot which had stuck to my eyelashes.
“Watch ou-” Blaise didn't have the time to finish the sentence until the hard body slammed straight into mine and a sharp pain appeared on my left side hip.
“Get off of me you goon!” I spat as I pushed Draco's body off myself. I jumped to my feet and brushed off the leftover dust from my clothes, looking at the blonde with nasty eyes. “You couldn't have waited five more minutes before entering the fireplace, could you?”
Draco got up on his feet and pointed a finger at me. “You couldn't have moved your ass from the floor quicker?”
I opened my mouth, closed it, opened it again, growled loudly and stepped across the room through the exit. He was such a loser.
The streets were packed with witches and wizards as I exited the building we had ended up in. My jaw dropped by the sight in front of me, the people there looked so happy even though this must be one of the most stressful days to come shopping for school supplies. There were shops in the building on the right and the left, with great windows where one could catch a peek on each shops' content. I wanted to run up and down the main street, look at everything, taste the sweets of which there were, touch the fabrics of the clothing they sold and drink a Butterbeer underneath an umbrella on the pavement.
“I need new robes,” stated Draco sourly as he and Blaise finally made it outside. His voice immediately killing my magical mood.
“Madam Malkin's it is then,” said Blaise and the three of us made our way down the street. My eyes kept going back and forth as we walked, every now and then I slowed my pace as my eyes had caught something specially interesting. This, of course, causing Draco to yell at me to keep up with my short, dwarf-like legs.
I'd rather walk alone, to be honest, but I had made the promise to Mrs Avery to stay together with the boys. Since, according to her, I couldn't find everything by myself in a new city.
We entered a shop Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and as the bell rung when the door opened, a squat female with white hair and dressed in a long mauve-coloured robe appeared giving the three of us a broad smile.
“Hello, welcome, welcome! How may I help you today? Hogwart's students, I suppose?” she said with a sweet voice. “We have a rather generous sale going on at the moment, if that might interest you.”
Draco was the first one to step up, of course. “I want a new uniform and a pair of Dragon-hide gloves, but the gloves has to be black and thicker than the ones I got last year because they ripped the second time I used them.”
“Yes, of course.” She didn't sound as sweet as gestured Draco onto a stool where another witch begun nailing his robes.
As she returned, I was sure one of the strands of her hair hand gone darker.
“And for you?” she asked, looking straight at me. “Robes as well? Which house do you belong to, dear?”
“Eh – actually – um.” My English language seemed to have decided to quit working all the sudden and I couldn't find the right words.
“She doesn't belong to a house yet,” Blaise cut in.
“Ah, not to worry, three sets of plain black robes it is then,” she said and led me to the next stool.
Half an hour later we exited with packages filled with clothing, I had not prepared for having to carry so much, considering I had only eyed the list of supplies without interest before leaving the house. Now I was the owner of three sets of plain black robes, a plain pointy, black hat, a pair of Dragon-hide gloves and one winter cloak (black with silver fastenings).
“Same bad quality as last year,” growled Draco and waved around with his new gloves. “I bet they'll rip at once I put them on.”
I rolled my eyes and pretended I hadn't heard him. It was indeed an awful busy day to spend in Diagon Alley, except the costumers running from one store to another – trying to keep their kids in one place at the same time trying to find the right supplies – there were salesmen in every corner yelling in their attempt to outbid another salesman:
“Owl supplies! Owl supplies! Buy one and get another one for free!”
“Owl supplies! Buy one and get two for free!”
“Parchments 40% off only today!”
“Parchments and quills! You'll get a free, top-quality feather pen for free!”
We walked past plenty of shops, only dropping in to Scribbulis Writing Instruments to buy new sets of parchments, quills and feather pencils. Draco bought an emerald green feather pen which was supposed to make a perfect Slytherin snake if requested. Then we entered Slug & Juggers Apothecary as the boys needed refill on their supplies for Potions and I needed a base of everything and a set of phials. My arms hurt out of the things I had to carry and I wished, once again, that I was allowed to practice magic outside of school.
We were in luck, as we knocked into Mrs Avery and Arnatt (dressed in a new fancy wizard robe and holding a lollipop as big as his own head) and Mrs Avery took our supplies and transported them home using her wand. I stretched out in relief, feeling much more free once I was able to move my arms as I wanted again. Mrs Avery had also bought most of my books, the standard cauldron and scales and she was currently on her way to get my telescope, which made my visit to Diagon Alley much easier.
“I didn't buy your edition of Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 nor Defensive Magical Theory, but I trust the three of you may go fetch them,” she said before waving us off again and disappearing into the crowd.
“So, the book shop next?” I asked and let the boys lead the way toward Flourish and Blotts.
We entered the shop and approached the deserted desk. Draco rang the bell impatiently causing the ringing sound to echo on the walls. Two seconds later a tall, slim wizard appeared from behind the counter.
“How may I help you?” he asked with a tired voice.
Draco asked for the two books we required for our fifth year and the manager disappeared to fetch them. I took a step back to get a better look at the place, it was rather small and dusty with nothing back shelves of books everywhere. Some places there were posters advertising a certain book, but otherwise it wasn't unusual.
“Look, Draco, it's the Gryffindor love boys,” commented Blaise and pointed at the two boys who had just entered. One of them with sandy hair and his shirt not tucked into his pants, causing him to look like he had just gotten out of bed. The other one, taller, smiling broadly at something, with dark hair matching his dark skin. His smiled was wiped out as he saw us.
“Malfoy,” muttered the darker one.
“Lovebirds!” greeted Draco them with a nasty tone. “And here I thought the gay parade was last week?” Blaise sniggered at his comment while I felt like I wanted to melt through the floor to never be seen again.
The boy with sandy hair gave each of us a nasty look which I stubbornly refused to answer.
“Funny, I was just about to say the same thing,” the boy with sandy-coloured hair said.
Draco's smile disappeared and he took a step forward. “Careful, Finnigan. Why don't you run back to your mudblood mother were you belong?”
Finnigan rushed forward, but was kept back by the other one.
“Come on, Seamus, let's get out of here,” he said and made a motion to go back outside.
“I'll get you for that one, Malfoy!” yelled Finnigan.
As the door slammed shut behind them, the manager appeared behind the counter with our books, we paid and exited.
“You're awful,” I told Draco as we stepped outside. “And you're not much better.” I pointed a finger at Blaise who was taken aback by the sudden change of voice. I didn't know the past between them and the boys from before, but I knew Draco, as always, had taken it several steps too far.
“Don't talk to me like-”
“I will talk to you however I feel is proper,” I spat before turning around and stomping off. I couldn't handle them any more and I really didn't want to see Draco's face for another hour or two.
“Ey!” Blaise yelled after me. “Where are you going?”
“Away from you!” I cried.

___________________________________________________

It was stupid, I realised it as soon as I lost them in the crowd of people. I was in an alley without a map or a place to go. Though I was too stubborn to walk back and tell them this. Instead I kept on walking, bumping into people every now and then as I didn't watch my step carefully enough. My head was heated after that scene, I felt my ears burn and my hands kept a steady grip around the books I was holding. Why would they have to be such jerks to everyone?
“Uh-oh!” I exclaimed as I bumped into someone crazy hard. I rubbed my forehead where the collision had been executed, my vision blurry because of the tears of pain appearing in my eyes.
“Ouch,” the other voice was heard across from me. We had caused a real scene, with people having to take wide turns in order to avoid walking straight at us.
I had to blink several times in order to gain my full vision back, only to notice I was sitting on the pavement, my legs bent and in front of me sat another girl. I looked around for my books, confused as I saw two editions of the ones I had bought together with a bunch of other supplies spread around us.
“Sorry,” I cracked quickly as the girl I had collided with watched me with a sour look. “I wasn't looking.”
She got up on her knees and begun picking up her things from the ground. I reached out for my two books before helping her gather her stuff.
“Are you – eh – are you a fifth year student?” The question sounded even stupider inside my head.
The girl raised her eyes, eyeing me with suspicion. “Have I seen you before?”
“I – I don't think so, I – um – I just moved here,” I explained. “Though I will attend Hogwarts for the first time.”
We had finally finished gathering the things from the ground and the girl held them all in her embrace with great confident. She had a great load of bushy, brown hair covering her head and a bit of her face, with brown, narrow eyes and a bossy look upon her face. I didn't know whether to call her friendly or not.
“Where are you from?” she then asked.
“Sweden,” I said. For the first time someone had realised my accent was not perfectly English even though I tried to adapt. It wasn't easy, trust me.
“And you just moved here?” her tone not sounding the least judgemental nor mad. It seemed like she had gotten over the fact that I, by mistake, caused her to fall flat on her face.
“Yes, I live in Wiltshire with my foster family. It's a long story,” I explained. “I was walking around with my…” I trailed off, I didn't know if I could call Draco and Blaise my friends, we hardly spoke to each other as it is. Most of our conversations included insults. No, they weren't exactly my friends. “… Anyway, can I give you a hand with those?” She was close to dropping her edition of Numerology and Grammatica, Grade Five.
“Oh, yes, if you don't mind?” she said and I picked up the book right in time as it fell towards the ground. “My friends are waiting for me at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, want to come?”
“Sure,” I shrugged. “I'm Arielle Acestone by the way.”
“Hermione Granger.”
A memory flashed inside my head as she pronounced her last name. Draco had mentioned a Granger, so had his father during our dinner. Was this the girl they had been referring to? I guess I was about to find out.
“Hermione, over here!” A red-headed, tall boy yelled as we entered the small parlour. We made our way toward the circular table the boy sat at together with another boy – this one with raven black untidy hair.
Hermione dumped her lot of supplies onto the table with a loud bang. “This is Arielle, she is from Sweden.” She gestured towards me and I waved at the boys from behind her back.
“I'm Harry and this is Ron,” the raven boy introduced themselves. Hermione sat down next to Ron and I picked the only chair left in between her and Harry. They had probably just finished eating a great load of ice cream because there were two empty cups on the table with only some leftovers left at the bottom.
I glanced over at Harry, only then realising whose table I was sitting at. My eyes widened as the lightning scar became visible behind his bangs.
“You're Harry Potter!” I exclaimed way louder than I first intended. People in the tables close by turned in their seats to look at us. “Oh, sorry.”
“It's all right,” he said, even though I could tell he was a bit bothered by my reaction. I felt my cheeks burn and I pretended to be very interested in my new books.
“Guess who I ran into on my way over from Amaneunsis Quills,” said Hermione indignantly.
Ron expressed a long, painful sigh. “Please don't tell me Malfoy.”
I stirred by his name and opened one of my new books on a random page to look like I was finding it fascinating.
The Levicorpus Spell,” I found myself reading,” an incantation of a jinx, hoists the victim into the air by their ankles.
“No, thank god,” said Hermione. “I met Seamus and Dean, and they had bumped into Malfoy. He had said something nasty about Seamus' mother, Seamus was furious and wouldn't quit ranting about it.”
The caster must flick his or her wrist upward while nonverbally pronounce the spell (although it may still be used spoken aloud).
“What are the odds that the slimeball happens to be here the same day we are?” Ron growled loudly. If used correctly a green light shall appear. The counter jinx (verbal or nonverbal) is Liberacorpus.
“Was his precious mother with him?” asked Harry, sounding as bitter as Ron.
The uncomfortable feeling came creeping under my skin and I felt like I had to act. I knew nothing about these people and it made me even more aware of the fact that I really shouldn't be there.
“Eh – sorry – I'm probably interrupting you,” I said as I shut my book carefully and prepared to get up from my seat. “I'll just-”
“Don't be silly,” said Hermione. “Why don't we change the subject into something a bit more enjoyable?”
“Might as well, my mood just dropped quicker than the time it takes for McGonagall to realise you haven't done your homework,” said Ron. “I'll go get another ice cream to cheer myself up.” He got up and went over to the counter.
I leaned back in my chair, trying to find the right answer to the question whether or not this was completely wrong of me to be doing.

Fantastic♥

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https://www.wattpad.com/502906917-playing-with-fire-chapter-one-~-england