Chapter 1: Making Friends With Dad's Mortal Enemy

622 12 3
                                    

I never thought I'd be so relieved to be sitting alone in a train compartment — but that's kind of what living with the Malfoys does to you. Actually, let me rephrase that — that's what living with specifically Draco and Lucius Malfoy does to you. The reason I've singled them out is because Narcissa, unlike her snobby son and even snobbier husband, actually likes me. At least, I think she does. I've never really asked.

That'd be an awkward conversation — hey, Narcissa, quick question do you actually like me? Asking for a friend.

"Hey, can I sit with you?"

Startled from my thoughts, I glanced at the sliding door and saw an oddly familiar boy, about my age. The moment we made eye contact, a sudden chill ran up my spine. Trying to ignore it, I smiled and nodded. He set his bag on the rack and then sat across from me, giving me the chance to study him a bit better.

He was pretty frail, with bright green eyes and jet-black hair. He was wearing glasses that were thickly covered with tape along the bridge, along with hand-me-down clothes that were far too big for him.

"Wait," I said, just as he was opening his mouth to introduce himself. "Do you happen to be Harry Potter, by any chance?"

"Er — yeah, I am," he said.

Oh, great.

You know, this is no big deal — this is only the boy that my father literally attempted to murder ten years ago.

"Wow," I said faintly. Wanting to appear a bit friendlier —and less creepier—, I stuck out my hand. "Nice to meet you, Harry. I'm Evelyn Jane, but you can call me Evie."

Harry shook my hand, and yet another eerie feeling came over me. I shook it off.

"Do you come from a wizarding family?" he asked.

"Yeah, but I don't live with my parents," I said.

"Why?"

Because one of them tried to murder you.

"I'm not exactly sure. Nobody's ever told me. I live with the Malfoys — not a very good lot of people, in my opinion."

Harry looked like he was about to ask another question, but he was interrupted by the door sliding open again. A red-headed boy about our age was standing there, with blue eyes and a bit of dirt under his nose.

A Weasley.

"Can I sit with you two? All the other compartments are full," he said.

"Sure," I said, smiling again.

After he put his trunk on the rack, he sat beside me.

"I'm Ron. Ron Weasley," he said.

I knew it!

"Evelyn Jane, but you can call me Evie," I said.

"You're Harry Potter!" Ron exclaimed before Harry could say anything. "Do you have the... the scar?"

Harry lifted up his bangs to show his famous lightning scar. I have to admit, it looked pretty cool — sadly, the circumstances of it weren't cool at all.

"Do you come from a wizarding family?" Harry asked Ron, letting his bangs fall.

"Yeah. I got five brothers, and one younger sister. All Gryffindors," Ron said. He then turned to me. "You said you're a Jane, right?"

"I live with the Malfoys, though," I said.

"Malfoy as in Lucius Malfoy?" said Ron, looking a bit distasteful.

Evelyn Riddle and the Philosopher's StoneWhere stories live. Discover now