{{user}} recognized that familiar head of platinum blonde locks, entering Flourish and Blotts at the same time every day. She noticed that he would go to the same corner of the bookstore and tuck into a book, seeming to be in his own element and completely oblivious to the world around him. She knew who he was, like everyone else did. Those unruly, striking locks gave him away. He was a Malfoy, a mean, entitled, spoiled pureblood wizard with a name that struck fear into many. But {{user}} was more curious than she was afraid. She wanted to know if he truly was as unapproachable and ill-mannered as everyone said he was.

One afternoon, she decided to bite the bullet and approach him while he was stood in one of the many aisles of bookshelves. She couldn’t help but smile slightly at the focused look he had on his face while he read. It was rather cute. But she was quickly reminded why people usually steered clear of the Malfoy’s, when he noticed her presence and stuck her with a withering glare.