THE SLYTHERIN THAT NEVER WAS
I race towards the stone barrier, shoving those useless Muggles out of the way,and listen to Hermione curse behind me. Laughing, I run through the barrier, much to the surprise of the surrounding Muggles. Not that they'll remember for long anyway, they're so stupid that they wouldn't remember something as amazing as magic even if it danced in front of them in a Cudley Canons Qudditch robe while singing the Hogwarts school anthem.
As I burst through the barrier, I am greeted with a sight that I will never, ever forget. The grimy, Muggle filled King's Cross Station has disappeared and has been replaced with a somewhat magical version. I then hear the loud, lonesome sound of a train's whistle as it pulls in.
The scarlet steam engine- the Hogwarts Express- seems like something from a picture book. It dominates my field of vision. Smoke from the engine puffs up slowly, filling the station with a dream like vapour.
I look behind me and see a wrought iron archway, located directly where a ticket box had been in the Muggle station. The words 'Platform Nine and Three-Quarters' are written on it in a swirling, cursive lettering. I have done it, I have left the Muggle world behind. For a majority of this year, for a majority of seven years I will be at Hogwarts, I will not have to be near Muggle filth.
The platform is packed: filled to the brim with witched, wizards and an assortment of cats, owls, and a few toads. I push my trunk towards the train, with the sudden remembrance that I have a very angry Hermione on my tail.
I dump my stuff in an empty compartment and motion for Crabbe and Goyle to come over. Their parents are old friends of my father's and they often come to Malfoy Manor to talk about 'business'.
Whatever that is.
"Hermione's angry at me, again." I inform them.
"Wotcha do this time?" Goyle grunts.
Smugly, I reply, "Called her a Muggle."
"Ooh. You in trouble Draco." Crabbe sniggers, his unintelligent eyes wide with glee, as though he was imagining all the different spells that Hermione will use to kill me.
"She will hex ya till there's no tomorrow, just like the time when you said she might as well be a Mudblood. She was steamin' at the very thought of being compared with one of those Muggle borns!" Goyle adds, sounding delighted and the both of them guffaw loudly, before hi-fiving.
"Shut it. Both of you." I snap, sick of their idiocy already. I desperately try to think of something to change the subject to. Finally, I decide on something safe: crime. "So, did you read about the Gringotts break in?" I ask.
"Nup." Crabbe and Goyle say in unison. I sigh, they probably don't even read.
"Well someone broke into a high security vault- it was empty- but they got away. From Gringotts. Gringotts would have to be the most secure wizarding bank in the world. Nobody has managed to break in and get away. Ever. Only a really Dark wizard could have done that."
"You don't think..." Goyle says, finally implying something somewhat intelligent.
"You-Know-Who?" Crabbe says, finishing Goyle's thought.
Just then the compartment door slams ope with such force that the glass pane quivers. Hermione stomps inside, anger clear on her face and her bushy brown hair is basically crackling with electricity.
I am doomed.
"You foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach! How dare you call me a Muggle!" She yells, pointing her wand at me. I put my hands up, indicating surrender. Hermione has been pouring over her spell books since she got them at least four moths ago and has already mastered a majority of the more... unpleasant... hexes and jinxes.
"Calm down Hermione, I know you're not a Muggle, OK?" I say, my eyes fixated on the wand, which is only a few centimetres away from my nose. "Just put your wand down. You wouldn't want to blow my face off by accident, would you?" Hermione tilts her head as though she is thinking.
"Actually, blowing your face off would give me just the entertainment I need today." she grins wickedly, " But, I might just save it for when you really get on my nerves, that way I can hex you in the middle of the Slytherin common room."
"Who says you'll make it into Slytherin anyways?" I ask, sometimes I just can't help myself.
She's just so easy to stir up, for goodness sake.
"What do you mean, who says? Of course I'll be in Slytherin! I'm a Malfoy! There hasn't been a single one of our bloodline that hasn't been in Slytherin! Can you see me in Gryffindor House with those bunch of goody-goodies? Or Ravenclaw? What a bunch of nerds. And don't even get me started on Hufflepuff. They're just losers, the lot of them. Slytherin is the only noble house there is in Hogwarts."
"Fine, fine. You've proven your point." I gesture to a plush compartment seat. "Sit down, twinnie, and calm down."
"Fine," she glowers, "But don't you ever, ever call me twinnie again. You are so annoying Draco."
"I love you too, Sis." I smirk. "When we get to Hogwarts, remember to tell me what the Hufflepuff common room looks like, OK?"
Hermione raises one eyebrow in a form of simple, barely controlled anger and says, teeth clenched, "You, Draco Malfoy, are dead meat."
"Good to know." I reply, before I turn my head towards the compartment window and watch the countryside zip by.