What He Knew

Chapter 1

Growing up I was never nervous or shy. I'd been raised alone by a single mother in the centre of Paris, I was tough and street smart and I was always ready with a quick one liner. But, honestly, moving countries let alone schools will knock some nerves into even the sturdiest of people. 

My mother had been killed and two weeks later I was on the Eurostar headed to London. Now, I may seem a little emotionless to you, heartless even, but my relationship with my mother was... strained, and I hadn't seen her for 6 years since she'd shipped me off to Beauxbatons, sending the occasional Owl with her self obsessed letters all about the new men she'd been seeing or the new job she'd been offered but never took. I'd spent the summers in Alps with my only friend at Beauxbatons, Ruben Devereaux. He was sweet and he passed the time but he was shy and weak willed and not very adventurous. I had to make do with what I had and it was his house or the streets for the summer so I made best of what I had.

My aunt Vivianne was waiting for me in London, she was more of a maternal type than my own mother and embraced me with teary eyes at St Pancreas. Like my mother she was short and lithe, hair of shimmering blonde however her eyes were not black and hard, but gold and warm. My lanky body felt awkward in her tiny one and I think she sensed my unease as she withdrew quickly.

"Fiadh, darling you've grown so much... so like your father you are", her accent was very anglicised but there was a hint of french still lingering even after 16 years of London life. She attempted to take my bag from me but it weighed as much as her and she quickly gave up, handing it back to me.

I hadn't needed to bring much with me - I hadn't much to begin with - but my many books added to the weight very quickly. Vivianne began talking rapidly about how excited my cousin Valentine was to have me join her at Hogwarts. The last time I'd seen Valentine she had been awkward, quiet and quite honestly, ugly. But it had been 6 years and I wasn't going to hold her to her pre-pubescent self.

Vivianne's preferred method of travel was by Floo Powder and so we walked to Diagon Alley, the last of the summer sun beating down on us. Vivianne talked the whole way, mentioning something about grabbing robes and books while we were in Diagon Alley. I wasn't listening, in my head I was imagining what it would be like if I were returning to Beauxbatons; the tailoring of the blue satin skirts to fit "just so", the purchasing of new quills at Delacroix  with Ruben's family and taking the Beauxbatons carriages to school...I hadn't fought hard to stay at Beauxbatons as it had never really felt like home, it was cold and everyone was so obsessed with the aesthetics of life. The architecture was gorgeous but like the people it was careful, exact and predictable. I was bored there, however, the thought of starting at Hogwarts in the final two years did scare me a bit, everyone would be wondering about me, asking weird questions, I wasn't excited to be telling everyone that I was here because my mother had been killed by a Death Eater. No thanks.

I was so lost in thought that I didn't notice a boy walking hurriedly out of a pub door, head down and when I did, it was too late. We collided with such force that we both fell on our asses. I was too shocked to be angry, my breath had been knocked out of me. I looked over at the boy to see his face covered by silvery blonde hair as he fumbled for his wand that had been expelled from his pocket in the fall. Finding it he rose quickly, stuffing it away before giving me a disgusted look.

"Draco! Darling!", Vivianne threw her hands in the air, motioning for a hug, stiffly the sullen boy abided. His features were sharp, his eyes were shadowed by dark bags but they didn't detract from his icy blue eyes.

"Vivianne, how are you? How's Ruan finding the new job?" he was polite but you could tell he had had years of training in exactly what to say, I saw a lot of it in Beauxbatons, everyone was scared of saying the wrong thing and to the wrong person. I hadn't grown up with that kind of grooming, my mother barely taught me how to use a knife and fork and the nannies had taught me my basic manners.