Draco Malfoy's P.O.V
"Post!" Mother squinted, opening the window to let in Jake the owl and hands the newspaper to father out of habit, while flicking through her post.
"Oh, no!" Father yells making me slurp my pumkin juice and I hurry over to see what could possibly make father yelp in the middle of breakfast.
I leant over his shoulder and read what was on the front page:
Harry Potter - THE BOY WHO LIVED - will be attending Hogwarts School of Whitchcraft and Wizardry from the first of September. To our surprise he had been treat like a muggle his whole life and has only been revealed his hidden past recently by Rubeus Hagrid, Grounds Keeper and Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts School. Read on to hear Rita Skeeta's investigation on why his magical past was locked away in the Cupboard Under The Stairs.
"What's wrong father?" I asked.
"Nothing. Nothing." He said, getting up and leaving the room.
"Oh I'm sure it really is nothing Master Draco." Our maid assured me, wafting her wand. "Wingardium Leviosa." And simply the dirty plates flew gracefully to the sink.
"Come on now, we'll be setting off and going to Diagon Alley today. We're using the Floo Network, so get your cloak on." Mother instructed me.
"Ok." I sighed, wrapping the cloak around me. "What if I'm not in Slytherin?"
"Are you serious? There's no reason for you not to be in Slytherin, I was, your father was and you will be great, you know. I can feel it." She grinned and patted me on the shoulder, handing me my Hogwarts letter. "It's destined."
I walked over to the fireplace after seeing father dissapear into a puff of green smoke and muttered the important words to take me where I needed to go with a fist full of green powder. "Diagon Alley."
I was whisked away instantly, it took only a second and I was stood on the pathway of a very busy wizarding London with Gringotts on my left.
"Muggles." Father sniggered, pointing at a busy haired girl with her head in a book and constantly turning around showing what she'd read to her parents behind her, who were carrying lots of shopping bags and were gazing into shop windows, gawping at simple broomsticks and vanishing powder. Simply cannot be anything but muggles, filling the wizarding population with mudbloods and failed witches and wizards. The only kind of wizards should be pure bloods, like me.
"What does the list say we need?" Mother asked.
I got out the sheet and read what it said:
First year students will require:
Three sets of plain workrobes (black)
One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
One winter cloack (black, silver fastenings)
"All of this we can get from the dress makers, you'll be getting fitted soon." So I read on:
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad.
"Ollivanders then?" I asked, looking at it from accross the street and seeing only Harry Potter with a wand in his hand and the crack pot old fool, Ollivander taking the wand from him with a crooked back and his old fashioned talk. But then that beast Hagrid starts tapping on the window with a squeeking snowy owl in his left hand.
