Prologue
Summer of 1991
"What if I never met you that day?"
Allison's POV
"Allison Riley Taylors, you get back here this instant!"
A loud laugh was my response as I pushed myself through the huge flood of wizards and witches in Diagon Alley, which wasn't difficult considering I was literally two feet tall. I glanced back and laughed even harder at the sight of my step mum, Clarissa. I had tricked her into opening a green dye bomb and well...figure the rest out yourself.
Clarissa and I have never gotten along, despite my Dad's countless protests. She was too uptight up her rear and I, well, I wasn't. Clarissa was the type of person who could fall flat on their face and somehow make it look graceful. She's been my step mum for as long as I could remember. Even back then, I loved to cause trouble and she loved to scold me about it.
Oh, where are my manners? Probably blown up in that dye explosion like Clarissa, HAHAHA. Wow, I'm funny. Okay, moving on.
The name's Allison, but I like Alli better because Allison makes me sound like someone poise and elegant, the opposite of what I actually am. I come from a long line of Slytherin purebloods, but I don't share the same stupid blood prejudice.
Because my family is a Slytherin pureblood family, they were ultimately former Death Eaters and loyal followers of You Know Who, who escaped punishment using bribery and the excuse of the Imperius Curse. However, I hate that horrible dark wizard with a burning passion, for reasons you'll find out later. But if I express it, I'll be hunted down faster than you can say "You Know Who".
Because my life has been so unbalanced, I've rebelled against every rule made and every plan set.
It's sort of funny and I would explain more but I'm currently running for my life.
"Allison!" Clarissa shrieked again. I suppressed a smile and moved my little legs faster.
"Allison!!!" she called again. I turned the corner and jogged into a massive book store, getting lost between the large bookshelves, nearly 6x my size, which were stacked with endless books. Deciding it would be a good idea to collect my heavy and loathsome textbooks now, I pulled out the Hogwarts letter I had received yesterday, and listed supplies. Nobody was really surprised I was admitted in Hogwarts, being pureblood and all.
Books are just a bunch of heavy things to lug around if you ask me.
Oh, you didn't ask me? That's fine too.
It didn't take long as I searched through the store. I'm so good at finding things, I might even betray my family identity and become a Hufflepuff. Ha. I had about five books in my arms as I scanned through the bookshelves and read off the list. The parchment paper was in my left hand and the books were balanced on my right.
"The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protect-Ahh!" I crashed into something hard and all my books tumbled out of my hands and onto the floor.
"Watch where you're going!" a snarky voice rang through my ears.
"I could say the same to you," I grumbled, rubbing my sore arm before glancing up. In front of me was a semi-tall boy with slicked back whitish-blonde hair and piercing grey eyes. Something fluttered inside of me as I watched the boy's hard expression soften when he saw my face. We both just stood there, staring at each other like statues until I finally got out of my weird haze and cleared my throat, putting on a confident expression.
Rule number one of being a pureblood is to never put yourself under somebody else. At least, that's what Clarissa says. I tilted my head up a little and spoke clearly. "Well...? Aren't you going to help me pick them up?"
The boy's hard expression returned and he scoffed. "And why would I do that?"
Oh.
OH.
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Because you bumped into me."
"No, you bumped into me," he corrected accusingly.
"In case you didn't notice, I have flaming red hair! You should be able to see me coming for miles!" I exclaimed.
How dare he.
"Well, in case you didn't notice, I have bright blonde hair!" he stated in a matter of fact voice.
"Thank you! I couldn't tell!" I remarked sarcastically.
"You're welcome!" he retorted.
"Help me pick up my books!" I ordered, still shouting.
"Fine!" he shouted back, crouching down with me and handing me two books. We stood again and I carefully balanced them back on my arm.
"Thank you!" I yelled.
"You're welcome!" he shouted.
"Why are we still shouting?!" I asked loudly.
"I don't know!" he answered.
"Your hair is really blonde!" I told him.
"Yours is really red!" he noted.
"Okay!" I yelled.
"Bye!" he shouted.
"Bye!"
With a huff, I spun on my heel and took off, clutching my books to my chest. I knew he did the same because I could hear his footsteps fading.
Little did I know this snarky little boy with strikingly blonde hair would change my life forever.
