I inhale the scent of steam coming from the Hogwarts express, a smile plastered on my face. This year is going to be amazing, I can just tell. 7th year is supposed to be the best of all and I just know it will be. I can’t wait to show off my Head Girl badge and get my own dormitory with my own personal library. I'll be able to spend countless hours poring over books, new and old. Hopefully the Head Boy is just as into this job as I am. But if not, then oh well. Nothing will ruin this year.
I continue fantasizing about my personal library until I am interrupted by a loud, exuberant voice.
I turn around only to be mauled by my lovable, if overprotective cousin, Albus. “Hey, Al! Long time no see! How was Egypt?”
“Brilliant! How’s your summer been, I mean other than the boring stuff you put in the letters?” I slap him playfully on the arm but before I can respond, a smaller pair of arms wraps around me, practically cutting off all respiratory circulation.
“Lily,” I choke out, “you act like you haven’t seen me in years! It’s only been a month!”
“But I’ve missed my favorite older cousin!” I can’t help but smile. The girl can charm her way into anyone’s heart.
“So, Rosey, did you find out who the Head Boy is yet?”
“No, Al. I would have told you if I did. I mean, I have to spend a whole year living with the boy, so it is obviously pretty big news.” He cracks a smile and glances to the left at Allison McClaggen. Winking at me, he strolls over to her, quite arrogantly in my opinion, but of course she swoons. She’s pretty, but fairly airheaded. Although, I must admit, I don’t know many girls that have ever attempted to resist Albus Potter.
“Rose, darling, your trunk is packed and ready to go,” my mother calls from a few meters away. Of course Dad is glaring at Draco Malfoy as if in hopes that he will burn a hole in his head. I don’t blame him. If Draco Malfoy was half as bad as his son, Scorpius, I’d be glaring, too. Scorpius looks up, catching me staring, and sneers. I send him a scathing glare and he begins sauntering over like he owns the place. Ugh.
“Well well well. If it isn’t young Weasley. I see you haven’t done anything to enhance your appearance this year.”
“Go away, Malfoy. I’m not in the mood for your vile presence.” He has to be the most detestable human being on this planet.
“Well, I hope you enjoy your train ride, Weasley. While you ride coach, I will be in the Heads’ compartment, living in luxury.” I inhale too quickly, choking on air. Malfoy raises his eyebrows.
“What are you on about, Malfoy,” I ask, dreading his answer.
“Wow, I’m glad to see your level of intelligence improved this summer,” he says, rolling his eyes, “I’m Head Boy, Weasley. Therefore, I will be in the Heads’ compartment.”
There is a long pause and then Malfoy breaks the silence.
“Do not tell me you are Head Girl.”
“Good job, Malfoy. You are just as quick as usual. I can’t believe you figured that out,” I deadpan. He stares stupidly for a few seconds and then snaps, “Well. Isn’t this just wonderful? Of all the girls in the whole of Hogwarts, I get stuck with you. Any decently pretty girl could have been chosen, but I get you. Hell, I would’ve taken that Loony Lovegood’s daughter!” He is yelling and people are starting to stare. I know they are all whispering about why Rose Weasley is talking to Scorpius Malfoy. As if I want to.
“Leave me alone, Malfoy,” I say as I turn and walk away. I can feel him staring at me, but when I turn around, he is flirting with some random bimbo. What did girls see in that prick? He seems to be more desirable than even Albus, which makes no sense to me at all. I seriously fear for the sanity of the female sex at times like these. If I hadn’t wanted to be Head Girl since the day I entered Hogwarts, I would have gladly traded my position. This year was going to be sheer torture.
Albus’ yelling snaps me out of my miserable reflections. “Come on, Rosey! You are going to miss the train!” Indeed, I was the last one out on the platform. I hop on, while saying goodbye to my parents, sealing my inevitable fate. I would have to live with Scorpius bloody Malfoy.
I walk along the hall, contemplating my terrible fortune, and slide into a compartment with Al, Lily, and Randy Longbottom. I want to prolong my Malfoy-free time as long as possible. I throw myself into the seat across from Randy and cover my face with my hands.
I hear Al’s voice. “What’s wrong with you? Aren’t you supposed to be in the Heads’ compartment?”
“Ten minutes,” is all I say in response.
“Rose, you are ten minutes early for everything. What is up? Did you find out who the Head Boy is?”
I nod my head in a pathetic manner, not taking my hands off of my face.
“Well? Who is it then?” I ignore Lily, not wanting to say it aloud because that will be a confirmation of what I really don’t want to be true.
“Oh no,” Randy whispers. I peek through my hands at him and he has a sympathetic look on his face. “It’s Scorpius Malfoy, isn’t it?”
I throw my hands up in defeat and say, a little too loudly, “Yes! Yes it’s bloody Scorpius bloody stinking Malfoy! What am I going to do all year?! I can’t stand to spend five minutes with that prick, let alone an entire school year! I can’t look at his face without my mood being completely ruined! He is the worst human being that McGonagall could have possibly…”
I stop yelling and look to the compartment door. And just guess who is standing there like some kind of God, looking like he owns the world, and probably the whole galaxy, too. Yep. You guessed it. The very prick in question. Scorpius Malfoy.
“Well, Weasley. I didn’t realize you felt so strongly about me. But you know, there is a very fine line between hate and love,” he winks at me, infuriating me even further. Albus starts to get up, wand out, but Lily holds him back. Malfoy doesn’t seem to notice.
“SHUT UP, MALFOY. The day I so much as feel one tiny shred of compassion for you will be the day that Voldemort rises from the dead and kills off the entire world. I would rather have my respiratory system cut out of my body than…”
“As charming as that is, Weasley,” he says snidely, interrupting what would have been a rant of very satisfying insults, “I really must be off. I, unlike you, do not want to be late for the Heads’ meeting in my compartment.” He smirks, knowing that he is making me angrier by the second. I get up, give one last longing glance to Al, Lily, and Randy, and follow Malfoy out the door.
“It’s not your compartment, you prat. It’s,” I stop myself before saying ours, “for both of us to use.”
He just smirks back at me and continues on in silence. He walks in front of me, obviously wanting to appear superior. I don’t care. I’m too busy plotting his murder. I’m awakened from my current fantasy (hexing Malfoy with every spell I know) when he stops suddenly in front of me. I run into him and topple backwards.
“Well, Weasley, you’re right where you belong,” he sneers, looking down at me sprawled across the floor. I get up and push past him into the compartment. All of the prefects are already there, waiting to be told what to do for patrol. Unfortunately there are only two seats left, right next to each other. Malfoy is quick to sit down, and rather than taking the seat next to him, I remain standing.
“Hello everyone,” I say, glancing around the room. “Welcome back for another year. Patrol assignments are posted outside the door.” I wave my wand and see them appear. “I expect you can all follow the directions easily. Do you have anything you’d like to add, Malfoy?” I ask without looking at him.
“Don’t shirk your duties, or there will be consequences.” Everyone stares at him, waiting for something more. “Well, get moving you lousy bunch of dunderheads.” He scowls and a few of the girls giggle and swoon. He winks at them and they start into a laughing fit.
“Alright, girls. Get going,” I say. This earns me several glares. What is wrong with Hogwarts girls?
Once everyone is out of the compartment, I take the seat farthest away from Malfoy.
“What, you don’t want to sit by me, Weasley?” he says in a melodramatic tone.
“Mind your own business, Malfoy. I didn’t come here to listen to your bile for the next two hours. So why don’t you shut up before I hex you into the next century?”
He stands up. I glare at him, hoping that he is leaving, but he smirks and comes closer. I try to scooch away, but he places his hands on the back of my seat, on either side of my head. I feel like shuddering from the nausea that comes on, but instead I give him the meanest glare I can pull off. I can smell his cologne and it makes my head foggy. He leans in, dangerously close to my face and whispers, “I’d like to see you try.”
I blink and he stands back, smirking like he just won this little exchange. When I come to my senses I say, “Don’t test me, Malfoy.”
He sneers and sprawls across the seats opposite me, opening a book. I decide that the only thing that will keep me from becoming a murderer is doing the same thing. I take out Hogwarts, a History for what seems like the millionth time and begin reading. Luckily, Malfoy stays quiet for the rest of the trip.
As we pull into the station, I stand up and so does Malfoy. “I hope you enjoyed that little ride, Weasley. It’s not often that a girl as unattractive as yourself gets to share a train compartment with someone as desirable as me.” And with that, he brushes past me, his hand rubbing against mine. I feel like I might throw up, and he smirks at me like he just gave me a real treat. I glare at his back and grab my stuff.
Some year this is going to be.