I did not have any luck. Not the potion, and not any luck at all.

In a surprising twist, my brother won the Felix Felicis, even if he is absolutely bogus at Potions. Well, he isn't anymore, considering that the book he has is apparently filled with scribbles and notes and potion tips. So, in short, Harry did not deserve that potion, and Hermione should have won it ━━━ but what can I say?

Maybe a small part of me hopes that I had won, but I shake that part way. How could I have won? Harry is the Chosen One, Hermione is the smart one, and I am nothing. It is how it has always been, no matter what.

The moment we're dismissed, I take off, quick steps back to the Commons. I have a free period, then Transfiguration and ━━━

My stomach growls, disturbing my thoughts. I forfeited my lunch time for sleep, something which I don't regret, but perhaps my stomach does. I do love food, but my tired brain had egged me on, telling me to sleep, and I followed.

My stomach aches as I walk towards the Hufflepuff Common Room, as there is a secret passageway straight to the kitchens that can satisfy my hunger. Humming to myself, my ponytail swishes as I make my way to the kitchen, imagining what snacks will be there. Perhaps the
House Elves still have those Bourbon Biscuits that I love. Or maybe the pork pies. Merlin, my mouth waters just thinking about it.

I cannot imagine being Sorted into a different house, one without twenty-four hour food access. That is a perk of a Hufflepuff: well fed. I can think of a thousand things we don't have, but it is nothing we don't need.

I also don't wish to think about the fact that like my brother, I was offered Slytherin: glory and greatness. Maybe that's why I'm like this now, so invisible. Maybe if I'd been in Slytherin, someone would notice me, lingering in the shadows.

But no. I am merely a shy Hufflepuff.

"Potter!"

I turn around, face to face with the scum of all Earth: Draco Malfoy. His pale blonde hair is messy on his head, and his eyes are bloodshot, but I can't help but admit that he looks kind of hands ━━━

No, Chrys, I scold myself. Stop it. He's a Death Eater.

"What is it?" I ask.

Draco smirks, and my stomach flips. "Now you're sure that I'm talking to you."

I frown. "No one else is here besides me and you."

Draco raises a brow, and my cheeks are tinged pink at the implication. Why, oh why, did I say that?

"Is that right?" he asks, taking a step forward.

I flush completely, looking away from him as alarm bells ring in my brain. "What are you here to talk about?"

"Oh, that," he says, giving me a weirded out look. "Zabini told me that you were at Slughorn's lunch meeting on the train. Why is that?"

"Because ... Slughorn invited me?"

He clenches his fists. "But why, you idiot?"

I flinch, snapping out of my stupor. "I am not an idiot."

I am invisible, that is all. I don't even know why Draco is talking to me in the first place.

He rolls his eyes. "Fine, you aren't. But why?"

"Because I'm Harry's sister, the Girl-Who-Barely-Survived," I say blankly.

It is silent before he bursts into loud laughter, startling me. I watch him carefully, narrowing my eyes.

"What are you laughing for?" I ask, irritated.

He stops, staring at me.

"You're interesting," he says finally, his cheeks red from laughing. "And no one can say Girl-Who-Barely-Survived with a straight face."

"But you're saying it with a straight face," I point out, even though my mind is focused on my first comment, my cheeks reddening. He thinks I'm ... interesting?

He glares at me, and my throat aches. But just when he's about to say something, I cut him off.

"You think I'm interesting?"

He pauses, as if he was caught, but then sneers at me as if nothing happened. "Not interesting. Weird."

And then he walks off, leaving me standing there, shocked.

Bastard.