Even Royalty Falters || Draco Malfoy

Chapter 2 - Hogwarts

Hogwarts: the beloved school my parents would never stop gushing about, especially not the past few months leading up to the school year.

When we walked into the Great Hall, my mouth dropped open in surprise. The ceiling was gorgeous. My mother had not been kidding when she said I was in for a surprise when I first got there. Professor McGonagall ushered all the first years to form a circle in front of her. While we waited for everyone to come join us, Malfoy stepped out from the side and planted himself in front of us.

"So it's true then. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts," Draco began. "I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

Ron and I snort almost immediately in unison, I had to bite my tongue to stifle anymore laughter. "If that how he introduces himself to everyone?" I whisper to Ron.

Draco was not amused. "Think my name's funny, do you?" He glanced Ron up and down. "Red hair and a hand me down robe, you must be a Weasley," then his gaze shifted to me. "We meet again, Whitewing." 

"Wish we didn't if I could help it," I answered blatantly. 

He glowered at me for a moment before telling Harry, "You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you with that," Draco held his hand out to Harry, a smug grin spread across his face.  

"I don't think Harry wants to be friends with a Malfoy. You definitely strike me as a 'friend of the wrong sort' type," I crossed my arms across my chest.

"And who are you to say that, Whitewing? You're not better than your Weasley cousin."

"Maybe not better than Ron, but certainly better than you," I retorted, earning both an offended glance from Ron and an angry scowl from Malfoy.

"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks," Harry decided, ignoring Malfoy's hand.

He was about to say something but didn't since Professor McGonagall walked over and called for us to hush. It was time time the sorting ceremony. It went through, sorting students into Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin and Gryfffindor, each time, one of the four house tables would explode with claps and squeals of excitement.

For Ron and I, well, we were expecting to get sorted into Gryffindor. It only made sense. When it was Malfoy's turn, the hat hadn't even touched his head when it shouted Slytherin. Of course, there was no better choice for him. He smirked and stood proudly before joining his fellow green robed students.

"Crescent Whitewing." Next up was me. I knew I shouldn't be nervous for this but a small part of me started coming up with what-ifs. What if I ended up in another house? What if that house was Slytherin? I glanced over at the Gryffindor table. Ron and Harry, Hermione and Neville–the pair we we had met earlier–were all sorted into Gryffindor. I walked up and the hat was placed onto my head.

"Ah, another Whitewing. Your brother was a fine Gryffindor and I see no reason to say anything otherwise for you."

I grinned, happy with the sorting hat's decision. 

"Gryffindor it is!" He announced. I let out a sigh of relief and joined my fellow Gryffindors at their table as they clapped for me. Fred and George pulled me into a tight embrace.

"Oh, my baby girl finally made it," they joked, finally letting go only after I looked like I might start suffocating.

"Hey Crescent! I'm Seamus Finnigan!" another boy introduced himself. "Wow, you have pretty eyes!"

"Thanks!" I replied, a little taken aback by the sudden compliment.

"She's a Whitewing, what do you expect? My mother said that girls swooned over her father back in their days," another girl gushed. "I'm Lavender Brown, by the way," she stuck out her hand and I gladly shook it.

Girls swooning over father? I couldn't imagine that mother would've let them. Now those stories was something I'd have to force out of him someday.

During the feast, I looked past Harry at one point and made eye contact with Draco, who once again stared right back at me with the smirk that never left his face, it seemed. I returned his smirk. Let the chaos begin, Malfoy. Another generation of Malfoy-Whitewing rivalry had begun.

Draco's POV

I found myself looking back at the Gryffindor table, my eyes landing on Crescent Whitewing. Father had told me about the Whitewings, and our family rivalries. They thought we were too proud, too arrogant and too connected to everything evil and dark, but the Whitewings weren't exactly the epitome of "good" either. They were just as "proud" of their pure-blood status. Hell, it was one of the Gryffindor traits! The only difference was that they walked around propagandizing their tolerance for Muggles while my family didn't. 

I found myself staring at the back of Crescent's head. Her long wavy blonde hair that she had inherited from her father stood out distinctly compared to the bushy brown haired girl sitting on her right. When she turned to talk to her fellow housemates, I caught a glimpse of her ocean blue eyes again. Nevertheless, she looked like her mother whom I'd seen back at the train station. Her mother hadn't said a word to us and just stared at us with a nasty glare the whole time. I

Mother told me that Amberly Whitewing had been the Princess of Gryffindor back in her school days and her daughter surely would take that title too. Already, she had guys fawning over her. There was no doubt Crescent was pretty, but her attitude towards me seemed pretty nasty so far. How had I failed to befriend both Whitewing and Potter compared to that wretched Weasley was beyond me. Pity, father had said. We could've been friends if they weren't Gryfffindor purebloods that tolerated muggles AND were related to the filthy Weasleys.

I guess, let the rivalry begin. Slytherins don't hold back.

End of Draco's POV

Cress's POV

After everyone was stuffed beyond the ability to walk, our prefects ushered us to our respective common rooms. I followed closely behind Percy, the only cousin I've never been close to. He was just too serious, too set on following the rules all the time, it made it hard to joke with him.

While the Slytherins walked downwards, we walked upwards to the painting of The Fat Lady. I was glad we didn't have to live in the cold dark dungeons. Seemed like a pretty fitting place for Malfoy, but definitely not me.

"Caput Draconis," Percy interrupted again, irritated that the Fat Lady wasn't letting us through.

"Oh, you're not fun," she pouted before our door swung open.

I followed Hermione into our room, kind of glad I already knew a familiar face with at least someone. Although I realizes that Lavender, whom I recognized from her nonstop compliments earlier, was in our room as well and she was followed by someone named Parvati.

Parvati's face broke out into a huge grin when she saw we were sharing a room. "Oh gosh! I can't wait to tell my sister that I'm rooming with the Gryffindor Princess!" And with that, she rushed out the door, supposedly to inform her sister right away, but a phrase she had used confused me.

"Gryffindor Princess?" I murmured, bringing my hand to my chest as if to say "me?".

"Why, of course, Crescent! Everyone adores you already. I imagine your parents had quite the reputation in school. Harry Potter isn't the only hot topic people have been whispering about all day!" Lavender said matter-o-factly as she plopped down onto her bed.

I scrunched up my nose. Yes, my parents were pretty famous Aurors and in the Wizarding community but the weight of living up to everyone else's expectations to be like them suddenly fell heavily on my shoulders. I glanced over at Hermione who was almost already done packing. She was listening but gave no input. She rolled her eyes playfully and merely gave me a smile and continued on. Looked like she was annoyed with Lavender already.

I couldn't blame her though. All night, Lavender had every once in a while got my attention down the table to just compliment me or start a conversation while I was in the middle of talking to Hermione or someone else. I understood she wanted to be friendly, but I had my boundaries and I hoped Lavender and possibly Parvati could respect them since I knew one certain boy, would definitely not.