Falling Star

Diagon Alley

There is a soft knock on my door several mornings later.

"Dahlia, dear, time to get up." My mother says warmly.

I hear the door open and my mother walk in. "Good morning, Mother," I greet her, opening my eyes and stretching.

Narcissa smiles. "We will be going to get your and your brother's school books today. We will be leaving in an hour, so make sure you are ready."

"Yes, Mother." I hesitate before mentioning the next thing on my mind. "Oh, Mother? I need new robes this year. Mine are getting too short."

"I see. That can be arranged." Mother replies before turning to exit my room. Her clipped tone makes my stomach turn.

My robes were a touchy subject in this house, for they did not have the traditional green and silver markings of Slytherin, but the maroon and gold of Gryffindor. I tried to never ask for new robes unless it was absolutely necessary. It was best to avoid the awkward tension surrounding my house placement. Mother tries to be more pleasant about it than Father is, but I know the disappointment is still there. I remember the Sorting Ceremony and its aftermath vividly.

***

I sit anxiously next to my brother with the other first years. My hands nervously fidget with my robes, and my knee will not stop bouncing.

"Stop fidgeting will you? It's unbecoming," Draco lectures in a whisper.

I roll my eyes. He had been annoyingly trying to be like Father the past few months "Only when you stop being an annoying git," I murmur back.

He looks mildly offended at first, but then his expression softens. "You have nothing to worry about, Li. We'll both be in Slytherin, and it will be wonderful!"

I smile, trying to believe him. Somehow, though, I can't shake the feeling that I would be different.

"Malfoy, Dahlia," booms the voice of Professor McGonagall.

I gulp before making my way to the Sorting Hat. McGonagall gently lowers the hat onto my head.

"Ahh what do we have here? A Malfoy is it?" The hat croons into my head.

"Y-yes," I reply.

"Your family has all gone to Slytherin, yes? So where shall you end up? You have the ambition to do well in Slytherin, but I also sense much bravery and determination. Decisions, decisions."

My heart rattled in my chest as I waited for the hat's decision. I wanted to be in Slytherin, make my family proud, but a small part of me longed to not end up like my family at all.

"GRYFFINDOR!" bellows the Sorting Hat.

The Great Hall becomes silent for a moment before the whispering begins. A Malfoy in Gryffindor? Did the hat make a mistake? Can that even happen?

A tall, lanky boy covered in freckles and curly red hair stands up from the Gryffindor table and begins to clap and cheer for me. He must be Percy Weasley, the Gryffindor prefect. The rest of the table begins a cautious applause as I stand up on shaky legs and make my way down to them. I make a point to stare straight ahead and not even look at my twin. I can't handle the shock and disappointment I imagine marks his features right now.

"Malfoy, Draco!" McGonagall calls out.

I look up then to watch my brother's sorting. As soon as the hat is placed on his head, it shouts, "Slytherin!" and Draco beams, hurriedly striding towards his new house's table.

The rest of the night is a blur. I am introduced to my new housemates, including the famous Harry Potter, but I am overwhelmed by fear and shame.

The next morning, I see Draco in the hallway before breakfast. He's surrounded by Slytherin friends, but he departs from them and walks toward me when I call his name.

I open my mouth to speak, but the tears come before any words can get out. I take a shuddering breath and try again; this time, however, all my words run together.

"There must have been some mistake. Now you're going to hate me and Mother and Father are going to disown me and...and..." I manage before I'm wracked with sobs.

"Dahlia, look at me. Is this about you being sorted in Gryffindor? I mean that is unfortunate, but I promise I will never hate you. You're always my sister. And Mother and Father won't disown you. Not if I have anything to do with it." He grips my shoulders with his hands. "Now pull yourself together. You're a Malfoy. Keep you head held high and act like it."

I dry my eyes with my sleeve and nod.

"Thank you, Draco," I whisper.

***

An hour later, Mother, Draco, and I are dressed and ready to go. Luckily, Father was at the Ministry working and wouldn't be accompanying us. We made it to Diagon Alley by Floo shortly after.

The brightly colored shops, giggles of young wizards, and the aroma of food vendors always brings a smile to my face. I adore shopping for another year at Hogwarts. Today we need fresh parchment, quills, new books for our 4th year classes, a new broom for Draco, and, of course, my robes.

Mother stops us in front of Flourish and Blotts-my favorite store. She pulls out a pouch of money from her handbag and places it into my hand.

"Dahlia, Draco and I will get your books. You go ahead to Madame Malkins and get your new robes. Just have them sent to the Manor. Meet us at the Quidditch store once you are finished," she instructs.

I try not to look too deflated as I simply reply, "Yes, Mother."

Draco gives me a sympathetic smile as he and Mother walk into the bookstore. I turn and make my way to the robe shop.

A bell jingles as I enter, and the lady behind the counter calls out a "hello."

"I need to be fitted for new Gryffindor robes, please," I tell her.

"Ah, Miss Malfoy. Always a pleasure," she smiles warmly.

After the fitting, I pay and instruct that my robes be sent home. I'm about to leave when I hear a familiar voice call my name. I turn to see three of my brother's friends- Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise. The latter struts toward me.

"Blaise, long time no see," I greet him. "Draco is getting a new broom across the way."

"Good, he needs one to bring Quidditch Cup back to Slytherin where it belongs," Blaise quips.

"He'll need a lot more than a new broom to beat Potter," I laugh.

Crabbe and Goyle tense at my dig at Draco, but Blaise laughs. Blaise is the most tolerable of Draco's friends. He has never made a big deal of me being sorted into a different house than the rest of my family.

"I'm telling him you said that," he replies with a chuckle.

"Go right ahead. I'm going to meet him and my mother now if you lot want to tag along," I say.

We all head toward the door but have to step aside as a familiar bushy haired girl and red headed boy walk through the door.