Draco Malfoy and the Girl from Mahoutokoro (Book 1, Year 4)

1 The Portkey

Draco had already packed his bag with the necessities that he would need for the short trip to the Quidditch World Cup. To anyone else who looked at him, they wouldn't know that he was excited to attend it.

A Malfoy never shows his true emotions. Lucius had told Draco repeatedly since he was a boy. It was why Draco's face was impassive as he stood in front of the large mirror in his bedroom, looking at his reflection in the mirror. Draco's grey eyes were full of self-loathing as he looked at himself. His pale skin, his lips, his pointed chin—everything, he hated it all. He wasn't good enough to be a Malfoy as Lucius liked to point out whenever Draco didn't live up to his expectations.

The longer he looked at himself, the more his emotions surfaced. His lip curled slightly. His arms hung loosely at his sides as he slowly curled them into fists. Pathetic. You can't even control your emotions for five seconds, Draco. He rolled his eyes and buttoned his blazer closed, smoothing it out. He turned away from the mirror and grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

"Draco! Get down here before we're late!" Lucius hollered from downstairs.

"Yes, Father." Draco slipped the rings on his fingers, adjusting them as he headed out of his room, into the corridor, and down the large staircase that led to the front of the hall where his father and mother were waiting. Narcissa wasn't going with them because she was well aware of what Lucius and his fellow Death Eaters were planning. She hadn't wanted Draco to go, but Lucius convinced her that he would be safe. Draco scoffed inwardly. His father only wanted Draco there because it would be a good excuse if anyone accused Lucius. Plus, Lucius liked to show Draco off like some sort of show animal. Look at my son. Look at how well the Malfoys are doing. Despite Draco's shortcoming, Lucius loved to brag, making it even harder for Draco to live up to the insurmountable expectations that his father had of him.

Draco said goodbye to his mother, then he and his father were off. There was a portkey somewhere in the Wizarding community that they could drive to—Lucius had hired the black car to take them to it. Apparently, other families had to walk. Imagine that. Some, like the Weasleys would have to walk for hours. Draco was glad that they had the car, it meant that they could get there sooner and he could go for a walk around the campground's forest and check out the Quidditch Pitch. He also debated getting some souvenirs, but he would play that by ear in case someone he knew saw him. Merlin, forbid.

The entire car ride, Lucius was whispering to Draco about the plan, ensuring that Draco knew when to take off and hide so that it didn't look suspicious.

"Are you listening?" Lucius hissed.

"Yes, Father," Draco replied without tearing his gaze away from the window as he looked out, watching the scenery quickly pass, his face reflected in the glass of the window. He could see his father watching him, assessing him with cold eyes and a look of disappointment and annoyance.

*

It was a day unlike any other for Mizuki Saito, a fourth-year transfer student from Mahoutokoro. She had spent the last few days staying at the Leaky Cauldron while her new home in London was prepared for her to live in, but today was the day that she would be attending the most exciting event of the year—and attending her first day at Hogwarts would be a close second—she was attending the Quidditch World Cup where she would finally get to see her favorite Quidditch player Viktor Krum. Mizuki adored Quidditch and she had always wanted to be a Seeker herself. Unfortunately, she was never given the chance. Mizuki was most excited to see Viktor do the move that he was most famous for called the Wronski Feint.

As Mizuki double-checked her cream-colored Prada backpack, her black cat, Kuro-chan, flicked his tail as he sat on her bed. His tail swished back and forth as he watched her with his large green eyes. He was wearing a little golden cape that Mizuki had sewn for him as he refused to leave Mizuki's room without wearing something around him—it made him feel safer. Mizuki nodded her head once she was certain that she had everything.