❝ 𝘽𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚, 𝙋𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙣𝙤 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧. ❞
Calysta Potter had it all; the looks, the fame, the brain, the popularity... And so did Draco Malfoy. When you combine two o...
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Calysta was absolutely, utterly sure she would never meet a boy she hated more than Dudley, but that was before she met Draco Malfoy.
The boy was absolutely intent of getting on her nerves every single time he saw her. Although the first year Gryffindors didn't have any classes with the Slytherins except potions, Calysta still felt that that was plenty enough time spent in his presence.
When Calysta, Jeff, Regulus and Felix were casually conversing in the common room, they saw Percy the prefect pin something to the notice board. Naturally driven with curiosity, Calysta stood up and took a look at it, groaning loudly.
"What's wrong?" asked Felix, looking up from his book (as usual).
"We start flying lessons on Thursday," she sighed.
"So? You've been looking forward to those, haven't you?" asked Jeff.
"With the Slytherins," Calysta finished.
Loud groans met her statement. The main reason why Calysta wasn't happy with this arrangement was because she'd been looking forward to flying lessons the most. It was most pitiful that Malfoy had to be there to ruin it. She didn't want to make a fool of herself on a broom the first time she rode it, and she didn't want Malfoy, of all people to be there.
"Typical," said Calysta darkly. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."
"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Felix reasonably. "Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."
Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the House Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters.
In fact, just last potions lesson, Calysta had most unfortunately been paired up with him, and was supposed to brew a potion to cure rashes.
Malfoy seemed more intent of boasting about his skills than doing the actual work.
"I've got the latest broom," he was telling Calysta, who was mixing the cauldron, slowly adding the shredded dragonfly wings.
"Good for you," she responded in monotone.
"You know there was this one time when I..."
"When you got a fail grade because you didn't help me do potions?" she interrupted, looking up from the cauldron.
Malfoy scowled. "For your kind information, I'm doing..."
"Nothing," she interrupted again. "Unless you could standing there and boasting."
