The First Time
Draco stopped the rolling wand with his foot, looking around to locate its owner. He sighed and picked it up to examine it. How could someone already lose their wand on their first day? The wand was sleek black, with a pink and white wand handle. Most likely a witch’s. He turned over the wand to look for any identifiers and noticed the initials “MP” etched on the bottom of the wand handle.
“Whatcha got there, Draco?” Goyle peered over Draco’s shoulder. “Is that frilly thing yours?”
Goyle’s comment elicited a chuckle from the group to which Draco shoved the wand into his pocket with a glare. After botching his introduction to the Harry Potter, he couldn’t stand anymore embarrassment for the night.
“No, you oaf. Someone stupider than you dropped it,” Draco’s response also got a laugh out of the group but was quickly silenced when a professor started ushering them into the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony. He decided he would just listen for the names and try to find the wand’s owner that way. Without surprise, Draco was sorted into Slytherin and couldn’t hide his smug smile, thinking just how proud his father would be of him. But that meant that the “P” last names were coming up.
“Merlin, I think that hat sorted you into Slytherin before it touched your head,” Crabbe remarked.
“Shush, I am trying to listen to the names. I don’t want to be accused of stealing this wand on my first day here,” Draco hissed, peaking his head up above the older students. Potter’s name was called and Draco was surprised that he was sorted into Gryffindor after a long bit about how great he would’ve been as a Slytherin. Potter’s name was probably in the middle of the “P” names and Draco hadn’t heard any first name that started with an “M.” Maybe he picked up an older student’s wand. It was probably best to turn it into the prefect at the end of the night.
“Maeve Prewett!” Professor McGonagall called. Draco’s ears perked up, watching as the crowd of first years parted for a little girl in the middle. She had coppery red hair pulled into a sleek bun with a few flyways that gave her a more relaxed look and freckled splotched across her face that accompanied a fading sunburn. She must’ve spent a lot of time in the sun.
“Ah, Ms. Prewett. I have seen many of your family members before in this very position. But you’re different than the others. I can tell you your grandfather Leander was quite the troublemaker. I don’t sense that in you. I do sense a call… a deep connection to… Are you worried about something? Misplace something, perhaps?” The Sorting Hat tsked, turning Maeve a deep shade of red.
“I… I am usually diligent about my belongings but I seemed to misplace something valuable to a witch,” Maeve squeaked, solidifying to Draco that the wand in the pocket belonged to her.
“Malfoy, it would be less creepy if you didn’t stare so hard,” Goyle whispered, elbowing him in the side.
“Oh please, it’s her wand that I have,” Draco rolled his eyes, but Goyle was right. Something about her was so visually captivating. Maybe it was because Draco thought the red hair meant Weasley, but her hair was darker than a Weasley’s. Still, if Draco didn’t know any better, he’d mistake her as one of the many Weasley children. She looked more stern and no-nonsense than the bumbling Ron that he had just met. The misplacement of her wand was really sending her into a frenzy.
“Ah, you can’t embark on a lifelong journey of knowledge without that thing you’re missing. Maybe your new housemates can devise a plan for you to get it back. Better be, Ravenclaw!” The Sorting Hat finally spit out, washing a short sense of relief over the poor girl. After her name was called, Draco impatiently picked at his nails, growing bored of the ceremony. Now, he just wanted to eat.
After what felt like an eternity, the great feast started and Draco couldn’t remember the last time he ate. Probably some sweets on the train, but now he was wolfing down his dinner. He decided that he would go over to the Ravenclaw table before the end of dinner so that he and Maeve wouldn’t get swept up in the craze of going to their new dormitories. Draco grabbed Crabbe and Goyle to follow him to the table and tried to coolly make his way over to the other house’s table. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous or why he was rehearsing what to say to her.
“Ahem, Prewett,” Draco cleared his throat to get the attention of the chattering first year Ravenclaws. Almost immediately that side of the table fell silent, looking curiously to the blonde boy. Maeve was starting to unwrap a cupcake when she put it down to turn around to face him, looking as puzzled as the rest of her new friends.
“Me?” Maeve tilted her head up, staring at Draco with dark green eyes that rivaled the color of a Christmas fir. Why was he thinking about what color her eyes were? He shook his head and reached into his pocket.
“I believe this is yours? The initials on the bottom say ‘MP’,” Draco pulled out the pink and white wand, making Maeve’s eyes light up. To his surprise, she leapt up and gave him a huge hug. He was so baffled he didn’t return the hug but instead handed her the wand.
“Thank you! Thank you so much. I can’t believe I dropped this. I was so worried. Thank you again,” Maeve beamed. Draco felt his face heating up and he could hear his friends snicker at the exchange. “Draco, right? Thank you so much.”
“Yeah… You’re welcome,” Draco said hurriedly, walking back to his seat across the Great Hall. He smoothed out his robe in embarrassment. He’s never been hugged like that before. Unfortunately, Crabbe and Goyle thought it was the funniest thing to ever happen.
“Oh, thank you! Thank you, Draco. You’re so handsome, Draco!” Crabbe and Goyle impersonated Maeve in a ridiculous high-pitched voice, giggling like schoolgirls. Draco choked on his spit before replying.
“Cut it out you two,” Draco said lamely, attempting to hide his redness behind a goblet. He took a long drink, peering curiously over at the Ravenclaw table where Maeve was showing her wand to her housemates. Crabbe and Goyle continued to tease him by throwing hugs at Draco that he had to shove off. Draco formulated in his young mind that the only way to end the teasing was to show them that he didn’t care about Maeve.