Malfoy - A Draco Malfoy Story

Chapter 1 - Prologue

"A boy made of stardust and selfishness; a girl filled with fire and fury at the world. We are a tangle of emotional wreckage, two broken messes thrown together, trying to navigate something we can barely comprehend."

― Julie Johnson

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DISCLAIMER 1: There are some original characters in this book, and the dates don't all follow that of the book/film plot!

DISCLAIMER 2: This book is currently in the works and so has not been spell or grammar checked yet; if you see any typos please let me know! (It'd be a huge help.)

Anyway, please enjoy. <3

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Of course, I knew who he was.

Draco Malfoy was infamous. His arrogance rivaled so many and his ego stretched the edges of the sky. He was cold and harsh and bitter, but not in a way that can be compared to winter or snow, or anything even remotely pleasurable. He was cold in the worst sense of the word: he was icy to the point it hurt your skin; to the point it would leave deep burns and burst blood vessels from the intense temperature; which somehow made him all the more entrancing.

His ego that had been encouraged by his family left him tasting sour and entitled. He looked down on everyone around him as if it were second nature, and went out of his way to cause misery without consequence; that alone drove me insane with frustration.

He's formidably inescapable; yet, I knew just from hearing about him that he was someone to avoid, and I knew I had to try to. My unwillingness to even lie eyes on him would likely make me someone to seek out to torment, purely because he would apparently gravitate to those who disliked him most.
This rumour made my stomach lurch on the first day of being a first year, sure that he would seek me out as his sixth sense mystically guided him towards the victims who he deemed unworthy of basic respect.

Much to my surprise and relief I had few run-ins with him during my first four years at Hogwarts.

The first time I had met him in person he almost made me cry; to my disgust and embarrassment.
I knew who he was back then too, at 11 years old, during the August before we attended school.

A warm, crisp day appeared with the wake of the dawn; ringing spring fog from the air.
It was the first scorching day of summer, I remember it well - coincidentally it was the day my older brother Nicholas had decided would be perfect for school shopping.

We had traveled down to Diagon Alley, him gripping my letter excitedly in his right hand, recalling his days at Hogwarts.

Nicholas was my half brother on my Father's side from a previous marriage that ended abruptly.
He was 24 this year, and with such a big age gap he was more a father figure to me than my Dad ever was; though, that wasn't hard since he ran off a couple years after I was born.

Nicholas looked after me the best he could, and I should really give him more credit; I know it wasn't easy.

"Shit, I remember my first owl... named him Brick." Nicholas grinned to himself, peeking to his right to see if he had stirred a reaction out of me that was something besides a sigh or a small smile.

"Come on, Veronica. I know you're stressed, but give me something! Brick is a funny name." He ran his hand through his curled brown hair that was drenched in his own sweat.
I grimaced slightly, glancing to my side to see if I could see 'Ollivander's' yet.

"Why'd you call him brick?" I asked.

"Because he was a dumb-ass."

I snorted, which clearly made Nick very happy.