"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." :

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Harry's P.O.V.

It was our very first time at Hogwarts, me and Ron. I met Ron on the train and we were immediately best friends. I was so very glad to have somebody who knew what was going on here, as I had no bloody clue.

Me? The Boy Who Lived? There was no way. I was Harry. Just Harry.

But everyone here seemed to think differently. I was their saviour.

I just wanted a friend..

*time skip*

"Oh look, everybody. Harry Potter's come to Hogwarts."
I slowly turn towards the voice. A small blond with blue-grey eyes smirks at me as I stand there silent, feeling Ron tense beside me.
The boy takes a tentative, but sure, step towards me.

"The name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

At that, Ron chuckles. As Draco whips his head towards him, I start to think that maybe he shouldn't have done that.

"Think my name is funny, do you? Do I care to ask you yours? Red hair, hand me down robe; you must be a Weasley."

Even I heard the uppity-ness in Draco's voice. But, I was entranced by his eyes, by the confident smirk he wore.

Drcao turns towards me and says, "You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort, Potter. I can help you there." He extends his hand out to me, presumably to shake.

I look down, helplessly, at his hand and say, "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself thanks."

That was the beginning of my hatred towards the pretty-eyed Malfoy.
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Draco's P.O.V.

Stupid Potter. He thinks he can just reject me like that? Go prancing around with that blood-traitor boy?

At least, thats what Father calls the Weasleys.

Stupid Saint Potter. Why couldn't he have just shaken my hand and been thankful that a Malfoy wanted to be his friend.

Although, green is an awfully pretty color. Not because of his eyes, of course.

Crabbe and Goyle looked like they were getting tired of hearing me rant about bloody Potter so I turned and they followed me to the Slytherin common room. Where, maybe, I could owl Dobby to see what he has to say about all of this.



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