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She is easily the first one aboard the Hogwarts Express. This is thanks to her only bag being a small snakeskin purse swinging from her bent arm and a strong sense of determination. She climbs up the stairs and immediately heads for the back of the train, carefully selecting a room which she hopes no one else will patronize. She enters and immediately slides the door closed, a kind of symbolic 'do not disturb' sign. She chooses the seat closest to the window, rests her head against it, and stares out at the gray wall of the station. She listens to the sound of footsteps walk past in groups, the sounds of joyous reunions permeating the room.

Soon enough the train bell sounds in preparation of pulling out of the station. She sighs in relief, thankful that no one else found their way to her compartment. She is hot, and wants to roll up the sleeves of her long sleeve black top but hesitates, deciding it better to wait until she is sure no one will be disturbing her. Her wand sits, useless, in her purse.

*Bang* the door to her compartment slides open. A Malfoy walks in, though she doesn't know which, sliding the door closed once again behind him. She recognizes his ancestry thanks to his stark blonde hair and pale skin, contrasted deeply by his all black outfit. She has only heard things about this family...stories, and they linger just beyond her consciousness's grasp.

She licks her lips as he sits down in the seat diagonal from her. "Can I help you?" She asks slowly.

He glances out the window to the train's hallway and then slides the shutter closed. "No."

"I wanted to be alone." She gestures to the door.

His eyebrows go up. "That makes two of us. Guess we'll both just have to be a tad inconvenienced then, huh?"

"Which one are you?" She asks, and then clarifies, "Which Malfoy, I mean."

"Which Malfoy? Draco, obviously. Draco Malfoy," He answers curtly. 

Her breath catches in her throat. Oh yes, she has heard things. But she is not scared, for what does she have to lose to him?

"And who are you?" He asks, giving her a slow once over from head to toe and back up. "From the flaming hair I would almost take you for a Weasley but I think I would remember tormenting you..."

"My name is Dahlia." She answers, refocusing her gaze out the window in the hopes that he will leave her alone.

No such luck. "Dahlia what?" He prods on, still looking intently at her.

She turns and looks directly into his grey eyes, instantly feeling a chill wash over her. "Slytherin. Dahlia Slytherin."


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