Hope Starts Broken Hearts

Sit with him? That was a joke, right?

He certainly has to be kidding me. Unless this was some sick game that would end up humiliating me in the end. But I couldn't ask, that'd be rude. So I guess there was only one way to find out.



My glance shifted over to the far, northwest corner of the room where Draco’s usual friends probably waited for him. We were not in school, but house segregation was eminent everywhere, and while most Gryffindors took pleasure in the tables outside by the street, this corner sat most of the Slytherin house.

I spotted a few of them instantly. The furthest table in the back sat the two lackeys usually at his side, both shoving custard down their throats and laughing about it. The table in front of them had a crowd of Slytherin girls carrying on their own private conversation, and another near table sat, I assume, most of the Slytherin Quidditch team, with their fancy Nimbus 2001's propped up against the wall or table.

A look of malaise hit my face as I scanned over the lot and I looked back at Draco uneasily.

“I don't necessarily enjoy your group of friends,” I muttered quietly, attempting not to offend him in any way at all. In all honesty, I just couldn't find an easier excuse to turn him down.

If this was game, there was no way I was letting my guard down.



I was fine with most of the lot, in all honesty. I never was one to repel myself away from the 'bad' Slytherins on purpose. I simply had my own friends. I've had a fair share of decent conversations with some of the Quidditch team, such as chaser Adrian Pucey and team captain Marcus Flint. The two bullied me in an older brother type of way last year, but proved oddly protective of me when I was seen walking the halls with Oliver Wood.

Most of the girls left me alone. Most of them. I had partnered up with the bulky Millicent Bulstrode for a project once; otherwise we don't talk much. Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis fawned over my friend Aspen so they occasionally sent glares my way when I was with him, which was pretty much all the time. And then there was Pansy Parkinson, sitting quite literally on top of the table. The very top of my people-to-avoid list.

Can't forget Malfoy's air headed followers, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. I didn't like them, but I didn't hate them.



Crabbe had a habit of constantly bothering me every ten seconds in Divinations to ask me what we were supposed to be doing, when my answer every time happened to be, "I don't know, Crabbe," with my temper growing even more bitter every time. Makes me wonder if he's too stupid to take a hint sometimes.



I've always had a grudge on Goyle, because back when we were first learning how to fly with Madam Hooch, he accidentally smacked me in the back of the head with the end of his broom as he turned around. It caused me to push him off and send him plummeting into the ground, resulting in my first detention. I've quite near despised him since then.



Draco looked in the direction of the other Slytherins for a second, grimaced slightly, and then turned back to me.



“Yes, because I happen to be a huge fan of them,” he scoffed sarcastically, and then pulled out a chair from the table a foot away from us. “But sometimes I'd rather not have them around.” With his smirk growing wider, he took a seat on the other side of the table, then motioned for me to join him.



He stared at me as if he were certain I’d take his invitation, but I simply shot him a puzzled look.



“You're kidding me, right?" he raised a brow, looking rather surprised as I stood there. "Girls would normally kill just to be asked to sit with me."

I rolled my eyes. It was true, in a sense. I hear a lot of talk in the school about Draco Malfoy being quite popular with the female population, but it was no reason to inflate his ego. However, he took the liberty of pulling out a seat for me, and I couldn't deny the chivalry. I sat down opposite of him and awkwardly looked around.



After the little scene earlier, my theory about the end of the world should be correct. If it killed me to be seen with Malfoy, I was pretty sure I was going to die anyways.



Draco was staring at me for the past few seconds, his face leaning against the palm of his hand while his index finger lightly tapped his cheek. He looked lost in thought, and I immediately felt uncomfortable, quietly glancing up at him every few seconds.



“Ah, I remember now,” Draco said; his gaze traveling up to meet mine.



"What?" I questioned curiously.



The corners of his mouth turned upward into a malicious grin. "You were the one the Sorting Hat insulted, in which you attempted to rip the poor thing apart.” Draco suppressed a short laugh, and I sheepishly bit my bottom lip. “What did it say again?”



I thought about the day the Hogwarts students were sorted into their houses, and then the comment the Sorting Hat gave me on that day.



“Not the brightest star in the sky, I see. The porch light is on, but nobody’s home! Definitely not befitting for a Ravenclaw,” I mocked the Sorting Hat’s voice and exact words the moment it was placed on my head.



Draco stirred the contents in his cup with his wand, and after a few seconds, his laugh began to die down. He was staring down at his custard when he said, “the second you pulled the hat off and attempted to shed it up with your hands, we all knew it was going to yell Slytherin,” he smirked.

I poked at some of the stuff in my custard before popping them into my mouth, feeling slightly awkward. “I was eleven, okay?” I said shyly.

“I wanted to meet you,” he said, causing me to look up with astonishment. He still kept his head down, though, avoiding eye contact. “Too bad you were talking to that Gryffindor,” he muttered the name with disgust in his tone, and I didn’t say anything.

Knowing I don’t talk to many other Gryffindors, he was most likely talking about Clyde, especially since we were talking about the first day of Hogwarts. If I replied, it would have been something mean, considering that Clyde was still a good friend of mine up to this day. I kept my mouth shut just to prevent an argument between Draco and I. Everyone knew how much he despises Gryffindors.

I decided not to let the conversation die, so I said the first thing that came to mind that didn’t seem too haughty. “Clyde's a great guy,” I muttered shyly to break the silence.

Draco snorted as if he were disagreeing, which instantly brought me to glare at him. “Yeah, and everyone’s running around saying Potter’s a great guy, too.”

“Potter isn’t all that bad,” I defended without even giving thought to it.

He raised a brow at me, wrinkling his forehead, making his expression seem incredibly disgusted. “You’re friends with him, too?” He actually sounded more surprised than grossed out.

“No, we’re not friends,” I murmured, biting my bottom lip. “I hardly talk to him.”

“Good,” Malfoy said flatly, averting his eyes onto something probably more interesting than me. He quietly muttered, “Don’t.”

None of us spoke at all after that. It wasn’t necessarily an awkward silence for the both of us looked slightly preoccupied. I snuck a peek up at Malfoy, who continued to stir his custard absentmindedly, as if he were deep in thought. I’d normally not let a silence go on this long, but I didn’t have the courage to ask Draco all the questions that were swimming around in my head. Keep in mind that I was still in shock that I was even in this position right now, sitting alone with Draco Malfoy, eating silently at a small store in Diagon Alley.



“You know,” he finally gave in, causing me to bring my head up once more. “You’re a lot more talkative than this.”

“Well you aren't acting very much like yourself, either,” I responded.

His deep eyes met mine, almost glaring. It made me regret what I just said, despite the fact that I actually got him to look at me now. “How would you know?” he asked suspiciously. “You don’t know me.”



“You don’t know me, either, so how would you know I’m more talkative than this?”



"I dunno if you've noticed," he rested his head on top of his folded knuckles, still watching me strictly, “but we've been in almost all the same classes since first year."

"Haven't the slightest clue."

"Rubbish," he scoffed.

It was obvious I was lying. How would you not notice the cocky git that bullied famous Harry Potter in every class, every day.

I inhaled deeply and then let all the air out. “Of course I know that,” I surrendered. He seemed to have a short temper, so I gave in. “It’s just weird, I guess.”



“Weird?” Draco Malfoy was totally oblivious.



I scanned the entire room, taking in every pair of eyes that looked my way. “Everyone’s staring at us.” And it’s weird that not only did you pay for me, but you asked me to sit with you, and you’re talking to me. I wanted so desperately to say that, but my instinct told me not to.



Draco shrugged his shoulders as he ate. “They probably think I’m trying to get with you,” he mumbled after swallowing.



“But you’re not,” I convinced myself.



From the corner of my eye, I noticed him smirk fraudulently. “Then ignore them.”



"I guess," I said, placing another spoonful of custard into my mouth, and then gulping it down. "I'm going to die, anyways."



He turned his entire attention on me now. "What?"



"The world is going to end."



Malfoy's had this expression on his face as if I were going mad. "What in bloody hell are you going on about?"



It took me a while to realize what I just said. I bloody hate when I accidentally think out loud, it's gotten me in more trouble than one can imagine, so I looked around quickly to think of an excuse.



Be clever, Mirabelle. You're in Slytherin for a reason.



That's when my gaze immediately shifted over to the table in the back. Pansy scowled viciously, looking about ready to rip my head off. Perfect.



"D'you expect me to ignore Pansy, too?” I looked back at Draco, and our gazes smothered each other. "Unless that's why you're here. You want her to skin me alive."



Before he even had time to look over, or better yet, to even respond to my statement, Pansy Parkinson hopped into the chair beside Draco and tightly clung onto his right arm.



“Draco darling, what are you doing over here?” she fumed, sneaking a glower in my direction.

I bloody hate this girl, too. As much as I was beginning to enjoy having civilized conversation with Draco Malfoy for the first time, having Parkinson there was not worth it at all.



“I guess that’s my cue!” I exclaimed ecstatically, standing up from my spot. "You two have fun now."



The second I turned to walk off, a hand grabbed my wrist, forcing me to a stop.



“Where d'you think you’re going, Mirabelle Crowe?” a familiar voice teased, pulling down on my arm so that I sat right back down in my seat.

I glared at the boy sitting beside me, who looked over at me with a cocky smirk.

“Hello to you too, Marcus Flint,” I greeted, sounding rather annoyed.



It only took another two seconds before the entire table was full of Malfoy’s little posse. Crabbe and Goyle invited themselves over as well and a few of the Slytherin girls occupied the rest of the chairs. “Our table is over there, Draco,” Goyle had explained, pointing a finger over to the table in the corner where they previously resided in.



“That explains why he’s sitting over here instead.” I rolled my eyes, receiving an even deeper glare from Pansy, who probably took me for an incompetent smartass.



Draco desperately attempted to pry the girl’s hug off of his arm, shooting an irritated glare at each one of them. “This party was invitation only,” he muttered under gritted teeth.



Pansy's jaw dropped nearly to the floor in complete surprise. “Even me, Draco?” she cried rather pathetically.



I scoffed at the abhorrent way she fluttered her eyelashes at him and replied, “Especially you, Parkinson.”



Her head shot my direction as if absolutely annoyed, and slammed her hands onto the table. I knew exactly where this was going. “Shouldn’t you be off snogging Aldridge or something, instead of hitting on my Draco?!”



So I repeated her sudden action, slamming my hands even harder onto the table, loud enough to receive stares from everyone in the store. She backed away a bit in surprise.

“Okay one, pug-face, I’d never hit on Draco even if he were the last boy on earth. And two,” I glared so strongly at her that she seemed almost frightened, “just because you and your little group of grotty followers were dissed by Aspen Aldridge, doesn’t mean it’s my fault!”



“Hold on a second,” Draco said quickly, and both Pansy and I turned to look at him. “Even if I were the last? Am I not worth being hit on by you, Crowe?"

I slapped my hand onto my forehead and ran it down my face, frustrated. "Hardly."

"How dare you!" Pansy yelled furiously, but a hand flew in front of her when she started walking around to me.

"Quite cruel of you," Draco said, but he sounded more entertained than offended. He stood up, his gray eyes holding mine, his mouth curling into a devilish grin. "Even if you weren't the last girl on earth, I'd make you mine in a heart beat."

Apparently I presented myself as a challenge. I could sense where he was going saying something like that, so if that's how he wanted to play, then fine.

Game on, Draco Malfoy.

I turned around to leave, but the second I did, I locked stares with Clyde's eyes, which were wide with shock. Heidi looked absolutely infuriated, and Aspen shook his head in disappointment. They were standing at the door, entering to most likely see why I was taking so long.

 They all had different reasons for looking at me the way they did.



But nonetheless, they all had the same thought racing through their heads: They thought I ditched them.



Well technically, I did.



But the horror of it all was that they think I ditched them to hang out with Malfoy and his friends instead.