Chapter One

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I've never been good at making friends. It's not that I'm weird or super-introverted.

It's because I'm a Malfoy.

And a Gryffindor.

I never really fit in at home, probably because I disagreed with everything my family believed in. I refused to treat Dobby, our house-elf, like a slave, and actually spoke to muggle-borns as equals.

At least, I tried. Once they heard my last name, it was all over. I guess my family's created quite the reputation for themselves.

In case you didn't know, my parents are Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, two of the most stuck-up, self-centered, egotistical people in the wizarding world. My younger brother Draco is shaping up to be exactly like them.

They hate me, of course. So do all the other stuck-up wizarding families. I'm a Gryffindor. The horror! How dare I be anything but Slytherin?

I don't care; I wear my red with pride.

The only problem is none of the other reds will accept me. How dare I be a Gryffindor? Anyone with the last name Malfoy is branded as sinister and narcissistic.

So, the Gryffindors hate me because I'm a Malfoy, and the Malfoys, along with all the Slytherins, hate me because I'm a Gryffindor.

That is why I'm not good at making friends.

There are a few Hufflepuffs that will talk to me, but mostly they're just scared me of because of my last name.

I'm not telling you all this to make you feel sorry for me. I hate pity. I'm telling you this because it shows how wonderful it really was when I found two people on this planet that didn't hate me.

I didn't find them right away. For the first three years at Hogwarts, I was basically ignored. I'll admit, that was really, really tough. Just because I've had a lot of experience being alone doesn't mean I like it. But, I was coping as best as I could, until the day when everything changed.

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