Candescent

"Tyler!"

I ignored whoever was calling me by my surname.

"Alyssa!'

'What?' I groaned finally, rolling off my bed and away from my work I had spread across my bed.

'Malfoy needs you,' Pansy Parkinson told me with a horrible expression on her face. Obviously she wasn't too pleased by that information.

'Well you can tell him to get his lazy butt up here then.'

She trotted off obediently as I sat back down on my bed. 20 seconds later Draco Malfoy stood in my doorway.

'I don't appreciate being summoned,' I said without looking up from my book.

'Sorry about that.'

I took his apology, figuring it was probably quite rare to get one out of a Malfoy.

'What do you want?'

'Homework help.'

'What are you going to give me in exchange?'

'Um...my gratitude?'

'Don't strain yourself,' I said sarcastically before adding, 'But I’m sure I’ll think of something for you to do.'

I scooped up my books from my bed and followed him out into the common room.

'You do realise that I’m going to help you,' I said as we sat down. 'Not do it for you.'

He sighed. 'Oh well, there goes plan A.'

'What's plan B?' I asked cautiously.

'Actually do my work.'

xxxxx

That night, the dream came back. After not having it since I’d gotten my letter, I was really relieved. But now it seemed ten times worse. And I now knew what it meant.

The green light, the curse that killed my parents, the laughing hooded figure...You-Know-Who...

Voldemort.

xxxxx

I woke up before dawn the next morning. At five o'clock I was rummaging through my suitcase to try and find my pencil case. With a pen in my right hand and paper in my left, I hesitated. It seemed strange to be using them when I’d been using quills and parchment for the past few weeks. But eventually I started the letter.

Hi Mum, I wrote, how are you?

It’s brilliant here. There's so much stuff to be learnt and it’s so great to be with other witches and wizards. I've been sorted into Slytherin House and I’ve got this great friend Hermione in Gryffindor. Also, I’ve figured out that I’m pretty decent on a broom – and I know that it seems like a ridiculous stereotype but apparently Quidditch is the main sport in the wizarding world and it’s played on brooms. We have a house competition and I’d love to try out for the Slytherin Team but apparently no first years ever make the team. What do you think?

Missing you heaps,

Alyssa

I made to fold the paper, but instead rolled it and wrapped it as I would a piece of parchment. I took the long way up to the owlery, or at least, that’s what I told myself to deny the fact that I was lost. However, I eventually did find my way, and after watching the owl fly out of the window with my letter attached to its leg, I sighed and walked out.

To come face to face with Draco Malfoy.

“What are you, stalking me now?” I asked in annoyance, side-stepping him easily. “You do realise that just because I helped you with your homework does not automatically make you my friend. You still have to make up for the behaviour you’ve shown since we got sorted.”

“I would if you’d let me get a word in.”

“Right,” I said, not saying the ‘sorry’ that had immediately sprung to my lips after saying that. This was Malfoy.

“I was wondering if you would sit with me in transfiguration this morning. As you know I am hopeless and McGonagall hates me.”

Only one of many.

“Fine,” I sighed, surprising even myself. “But do not expect me to be nice to you.”

“I’m not expecting it,” he called as I walked away, my mind quite curious as to why Malfoy of all people had suddenly become Mr. Nice-Guy. However, I pushed the thought out of my mind as I went to go and sit by Hermione at breakfast.

“Did you find what you needed?”

“Hmm? Oh, yesterday? No,” I added, wondering why I was lying. “I didn’t. I guess researching isn’t my strong point.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find it at some stage,” she said putting a piece of toast on my plate. “I was wondering if you could help me with my Defence Against the Dark Arts spell casting. No offence to Professor Quirrell, but he’s not the best teacher.”

“Yeah,” I said. “That should be fine, but I’ve got to warn you, I may be a tad late. I do have to focus on my researching.”

“What about your homework?” she asked.

“My theory is already done for the next three months. Seriously, I could be studying how to write a novel in Transfiguration and McGonagall wouldn’t even notice the difference. I’ve got my work done...I can already turn a daisy into a rose.”

“That’s not on the agenda until February!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Well, it’s done. I’ll probably just coast through this year, but I’ll try to find out as much about the wizarding world as I can. Harry Potter, The Dark Years, The origins of Hogwarts, Dumbledore, Voldemort-”

Hermione’s hand clapped over her mouth. “Sorry...You-Know-Who,” I rectified quickly. “But I have to know what my past is.”

“You mean you don’t know, your adoptive mother never told you?” She said, her face stark white from the use of Voldemort's name.

“She doesn’t know either. If I want to know who I am, I have to find out for myself.”

“You don’t have to do everything alone Alyssa,” Hermione said in a quiet voice. “I am your friend.”

I looked up and saw more people filing into the hall. I stood up from the Gryffindor table and began to walk away.

“I know,” I said to Hermione before I left, “But this is something I have to do alone.”