Distant Memories; A Draco Malfoy love story.

Year Two.

Diagon Alley was so crowded that it was nearly impossible not to run into someone with every turn. Fortunately for me, I collided with the Weasley family.

"Ron!" I embraced my red-haired friend with a tight hug—awkward on his part, which wasn't unusual—before greeting the rest of the family.

I hadn't formally met Mr and Mrs. Weasley yet, but I assumed they must have heard a lot about me to welcome me in the friendly demeanor in which they did.

"Ohhhh," Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, "You must be Sloane, Ronald's new friend! So lovely to meet you at last!" She pinched my cheeks and squeezed me in her arms. "Have you purchased your books yet? We were just on the way, come along!"

I had not, in fact, already purchased my books for my second year, but Mrs. Weasley left no pause for me to answer anyway and eagerly ushered me into Flourish and Blotts. The amount of people in this store was even more stifling than those in the streets, and I took notice that most of them were women and girls.

We pushed our way through everyone and stopped at a small stage where books were set up that all had the face of a handsome wizard, flashing the same dazzling smile in every moving photo on the covers. Mrs. Weasley gazed up at the books with growing anticipation.

Suddenly, Hermione appeared with Harry, who was covered from head to toe in was looked like soot. A terrible Flooing mishap, no doubt.

"Harry, thank goodness!" Mrs. Weasley patted some of the soot off him, but was quickly interrupted by someone introducing the man everyone was apparently waiting for.

"Introducing, Mister Gilderoy Lockhart!"

Mrs. Weasley gasped and fixed her hair, gazing wide-eyed and glowing, completely enraptured by Gilderoy Lockhart's very presence.

"Mum fancies him," Ron groaned and rolled his eyes. Harry just laughed, but Hermione was too busy accompanying Mrs. Weasley's fawning to even notice.

"Good to see you, Harry," I smiled and nudged his arm with my shoulder.

"Sloane! Good summer?" He grinned through black, dusty lips.

I went to answer him, but Gilderoy Lockhart (who was having a photographer take several photos of him) stopped posing and looked directly at Harry.

"It can't be... Harry Potter..."

Harry stood unmoving, but the photographer grasped Harry's shirt collar and practically threw him onto the stage beside this author who, in my opinion, was incredibly self-absorbed and simply wanted Harry up there as a publicity stunt. Pictures were taken of the two, and Harry was dismissed with a gifted stack of books written by Lockhart. Mrs. Weasley, of course, gladly took them off of Harry's hands.

Harry and Ron pushed through the crowd with Ron's little sister, Ginny. I followed them, as I wanted nothing more to do with the show being put on by that man. Just before getting to the door, I heard a familiar voice that sparked a twinge of anger... and excitement in my stomach.

"Famous Harry Potter," Draco descended from the stairway and stood directly in our path.

Great.

I hadn't seen Draco since last term, and definitely didn't visit the Malfoy Manor over summer holiday. He had grown several inches, and his boyish face was starting to thin out and become more angular, but his sneer was ever the same and just seemed more devilish than I remembered.

"Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."

Ginny, to my surprise, took a brave step toward Draco. "Leave him alone."