The Girl Who Lied || Draco Malfoy

Where To Begin

May 28, 1998

The Wizengamot towered over her like a father over a child with their disgusted scowls and disappointed frowns.

This was her third time in a Ministry courtroom; the intimidation of the Wizengamot only got stronger with each visit. She scratched at the faded tattoo beneath the long sleeve shirt as a nervous tick, eyes flickering to the tiled floor as she caved under the pressure.

"Miss Potter. Please begin."

Where should I start?

She hated, even more than the situation she found herself in, the loud silence that replied.

August 1st, 1991

She was ecstatic. Clothes. She'd never gone clothes shopping before. The women's section was just dress after dress - she supposed witches hadn't gotten the memo that women could wear trousers now - but they all twinkled with a magical element to them. And she couldn't be happier.

"What do you think?" she asked, coming over to her brother with a light blue dress decorated in embroidered flowers held up against her body. Harry, who had been in the middle of a conversation with another boy also getting fitted, paused to look at her up and down. "It's nice, Cee. Do-"

"Is this your older sister?" the blond boy next to Harry interrupted. "What house are you in, then?"

Hyacinth gave him the smile she gave the other kids at primary school. Friendly but forced. "We're twins, actually. And I don't know what house I'm in." She was in blue house for Year 6 at her primary, but she doubted he meant that.

"You're done, dear," Madam Malkin said to Harry, patting him affectionately. She turned to Hyacinth. "Up you go next, dear. And if you need dresses, we can get you fitted for some of those as well."

"I'm going to wait outside," Harry said, glancing back at the blond boy pointedly. "With Hagrid."

"Okay," Hyacinth told him cheerfully, standing up on the platform as Madam Malkin fluttered around her with a tape measure. She turned to look at the other boy. "So tell me about the houses."

He started to talk and Hyacinth soon wished he had an off button. Because he talked, and talked, and talked.

"So you said your family all went to Slytherin. Is it based on your family, then, where you go?" Hyacinth wondered, trying to get useful information and direct him away from his rant of how bad the other houses were.

She didn't know what house her parents went to. She didn't even know her parents were wizards until yesterday.

"No, it's based on character. My family just happens to all be full of the cunning, ambitious sort," he said proudly. "Your brother says your parents are dead and that's why you're with that savage."

She didn't even know where to start with that comment, blinking at the utter bluntness. Where was that cunning, ambitious sort that he bragged of? "Uh... Hagrid's pretty great once you get to know him."

"Mister Malfoy, you're all done."

The Malfoy boy hopped off the podium and stuck his hand out toward her. "I'm Draco Malfoy."

She put her hand in his ever-so hesitantly, hating being touched. Instead of shaking it, he brought it to his mouth and kissed it. What the heck, is this place stuck in the 1800s? No trousers for girls? Kisses on hands? She smiled tightly at him instead of verbally saying any of that and channeled the soaps Mrs. Dursley watched on the telly. "Charmed. Hyacinth Potter."

Draco's eyes widened. "Wait. You're the Potter Twins? Like the Girl-Who-Lived?" He looked her up and down, like he was expecting her to look different now that he knew. "I don't believe it, you're pulling the mickey on me. Show me your scar."