How You Get the Girl |Harry Potter|

Prologue

A little girl, about eleven years of age, was running down the small town of Wiltshire's streets, occasionally bumping in to people as she went. She muttered apologies and kept her head facing the stoned walkways. There were cars zooming past her, and the air smelt slightly of coconuts. She wasn't sure why it smelt like it did, but it made her somewhat queasy.

Aware of the fact that she was not only in a rush to start with, but the smell was probably going to lead to a sneezing fit, she sped up her pace. Within moments she was at the crosswalk and had to skid to stop. Looking left, and then looking right, the girl didn't see any cars coming so stepped out on to the road cautiously. Slowly and steadily, she began to cross the road. Halfway through her journey, she saw two bright headlights coming closer and closer to her. She halted, unsure of what to do, and it wasn't until somebody ran from the side she was aiming for and dragged her to the sidewalk that she realized that the car wasn't going to stop – and was going to hit her.

She lifted her chin up slightly to thank her hero but stopped short when she noticed the pale complexion and noticeably platinum blonde hair. He was, undoubtedly, a Malfoy - a member of the family that her mother instructed her to visit and become acquainted with before school began. Her mother had been childhood friends with Narcissa, after all.

"What're you doin'?" the boy who saved her said, in a somewhat annoyed tone. "You almost got yourself hit with one of those Muggle toys." She couldn't help but notice that when he said muggle he scrunched his nose up slightly.

"I got scared. Mommy or Daddy would always help me cross the streets," she tried to explain. "You're Draco, aren't you? Draco Malfoy. Mommy said you and me would stick together when school started."

"She did, did she?" the boy looked her up and down. "My name is Draco, and that must mean that you're Elizabeth. C'mon, our house is this way. Follow my lead so you don't get ran over."

Elizabeth nodded and reached to grip on to his hand. He flinched at first, but after a moment held on nevertheless. Draco led her through what seemed like countless dampened streets before he stopped in front of what looked to be a castle.

"Whoa," Elizabeth whispered. Her family was wealthy and had many luxuries, but they preferred to live in a modest home. Or somewhat modest, despite what it looked like, it definitely was not a castle.

"Pretty great, huh?" Draco grinned, flashing her a perfectly white smile. "My father paid what must've been billions for this. We have to have loads of house elves just to keep the place looking magical. Can't imagine what only one wizard would have to do to clean it. I guess that's what the house elves are for, right Elizabeth?"

She didn't like the way he was practically describing house elves as their slaves. Her family owned a few house elves, but they considered them almost family (she did, anyway). She forced herself to give him a shy smile and said, "Shall we go in? I want to see if you have my prince charming inside."

"We don't, sorry." Draco nudged her and winked, "He's outside."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes before squeezing on his hand, making him drop his smile and cringe. It only lasted a moment, within the next he was smirking. He tugged on her hand and led her down the ever long driveway towards the castle. On either side of them were hedges that seemed to reach the sky (it might've been just from the eyes of a tween though). They were a deep, grassy green and were speckled with small raindrops from England's rainy climate. As Draco led on, she let herself breathe deeply. The smell after a rainy day had been her favourite ever since she could remember. She couldn't ever explain it, but it just smelt fresh.

Draco stopped suddenly, causing Elizabeth to bump into him. "Ow," Draco mumbled. "There should be a house elf coming to open up the doors."

Realizing they were in front of the castle, Elizabeth gazed up at the roofline and the many windows on the walls. "How many rooms do you have?" She asked curiously.