stolen by draco malfoy

03 | two: percy weasley

Relia sat on Hogwarts Express, entirely confused about who that boy at King's Cross Station was and why he suddenly wanted to be best friends. Then suddenly, something stirred in her memory: nail paint, white-blonde hair, a stupid smirk. 

Oh, he was that boy from Malfoy Manor. Well, why'd he suddenly want to be friends as if they had met more than once? She wasn't best friends with Pansy Parkinson and they had certainly met more than once — she had some attachment issues over there. If they were best friends, Pansy might force Relia to not be friends with any other person, and that made her feel constricted. Besides, "best friends" sounded like a lot of commitment, and care and Relia wasn't "in the mood" for that. She never was, not until the end.

Right now, however, Pansy was chatting with Relia and trying to get her to respond. "That blonde boy out there was hot — wasn't he?"

Relia shook her head, "He looked stupid, with all that gel pasted onto his hair."

"You haven't met before? Why'd you give him the middle finger?" Questions rained onto Relia's head, jamming it completely and making her feel like a soggy old sandwhich. 

"I don't know, okay? He suddenly wanted to be bestfriends and that made me feel constricted,"

Pansy rolled her eyes.

"And I just refused and he called me a bitch, taking it personally," Relia rolled her eyes as Pansy's eyes widened at the "b-word" as if it was You-Know-Who's name. "God, stop being such a baby, Parkinson."

"You're too young to be using words like that!" Pansy screeched.

"And you," Lestrange sniggered, "are too young to be my mother, then why are you trying, girl?"

Pansy shoved her, hard, right off the bench. And the carriage door opened, revealing another boy, ginger-red hair with beautiful chocolate brown eyes. That was when Lestrange realised that she was staring up at the boy from the floor. Standing up with a glare at Pansy and brushing the dust off Relia's skirt, she looked at the boy. "Sorry," she said — her first time apologising to anyone except my parents. I, personally, suspected that my good old enemy, Love, was hanging around somewhere close by, and I didn't like this. 

I am the one who causes heartbreaks and walls to build between people, but this time, all I wanted was to get this Lestrange girl to the Malfoy boy, because they made a beautiful story with a lot of drama. 

Confession: I like drama.

He smiled down at Relia, he was around 5'8 (and fifteen) while she was just 5'5 (and eleven), "I'm Percy, Percy Weasley, the Gryffindor prefect, and I was just looking into every carriage. Are you alright?"

Relia smiles, smoothing her hair down, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Well, I'll see you around Hogwarts then, I guess?" he cocked an eyebrow. Hot, Relia thought. Disgusting, I thought.

"Yeah, definitely," Relia says, sounding a bit too high-pitched for my liking, but at least she had a voice.

"What was that, girl?" Pansy screamed, squealing in a way Lestrange was squealing underneath her cool cover. 

"What was what?"

"You were a blushing mess! For a Weasley! He wasn't even that good-looking," Pansy said, and I could only agree.

"Well, I'm sorry you don't have good taste," Relia snapped, "This is why I don't need best friends."

Now came the reason why I was still standing here. Pansy's face fell, only for a moment, but a crack appeared in her heart — I am unworthy of being her best friend. I sighed in my corner, gently putting her heart back together — Well, I don't want to be. Indeed, human nature is just like the story of the fox and the sour grapes, if you are literate enough to have ever read it.

And then I left, my job here was done.

* * *

The next time I appeared, was at the Hogwart's Sorting, quite ruffled up with importance, for the sorting always left a trail of broken hearts behind — a Gryffindor had wanted to be a Slytherin, a Slytherin had wanted to be a Hufflepuff, and a Squib was discovered here and there.

I arrived just in time to hear, "Abbot, Hannah!" — the girl was sorted into Hufflepuff. I saw her coloured blue and red, with sadness and anger, at being sorted into the "useless" house when she wanted to be in the two main houses — Gryffindor or Slytherin. I healed her heart, a golden little thing it was.

Draco Malfoy was sorted into the house of the snake — Slytherin — and he was more than ecstatic about it.

"Lestrange, Relia!" — Slytherin. Slytherin. Slytherin. Always Slytherin. — "GRYFFINDOR!" the hat screamed. No applause. The Slytherin table looked confused, while the Gryffindor table looked like raging bulls, ready to kill the poor girl. As for the "poor girl", I felt her heart crack, and the tears crowded her eyes faster than she could hold them back, "I'm so sorry, Mum, Dad."

She dashed to the Gryffindor table, skidding to a hault, looking for a chair to sit on. But there were none, only hands blocking the empty seats — the whole house had come together to get her out of it. "Students!" Professor McGonagall said, sounding shocked at this behaviour — some school, I thought — "Let her sit down!"

Reluctantly, someone removed their hand from the chair beside them — the same red-head that Relia had seen on the train. Relia blushed slightly, before sitting down beside him. 

A small thought: This wasn't good. Relia thought it was. Why'd he bully her before only to like her now suddenly?

It got Percy Weasley some looks from the other Gryffindors; curious and suspicious, but he didn't mind, apparently. 

Humans are so hard to read sometimes, their motives so messed up I can hardly look at them. Some humans are golden inside, some are black. But most are an ashy golden.

At least, Draco Malfoy was as he sat at the Slytherin table, watching Relia Lestrange find a seat and waving his wand slightly under the table to make another chair appear at the end of the table. However, Percy Weasley had already done the needful, and no one noticed the crestfallen look in the blonde's eyes as Lestrange blushed for Weasley.

I don't even care, and I'm going to show it.

___