I hate to say this..but..I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER!..(sob)
It was nearly Twilight when Adara Malfoy sat on a bench with a perfect view of Hogwart's black lake, breath making small clouds in front of her face. Her cloak bore the crest of Griffindor. Moments later, a boy with bleach- Blonde hair, wearing a Slytherin cloak, arrived.
"Adara" he said as he sat beside his sister, but a good amount of space between them.
"Draco" Adara said, acknowledging her brother. Her voice then changed from someone who was addressing a business partner to something angry, almost sinister. "Aren't you supposed to be avoiding me? I was under the impression that I brought dishonor to your pure Slytheriness or something stupid like that." Her voice dripped with so much hate and frustration it was like she had spat something out that tasted vile.
She's so funny when she's really pissed. Draco thought to himself. "Yeah, well, growing up with you makes me miss you sometimes." Ever since at the beginning of the year, when the sorting hat had declared her a Griffindor, their parents had treated her like a mudblood in Hufflepuff, only talking to her if it was absolutely necessary or sending her howlers, which ranged from 'you've brought dishonor on our ancestors!' to 'stay away from our true child!' and some even nastier that Professor McGonagall had to mute because of their excessive amount of swearing. Draco noticed that on some of these occasions, she hid and cried for hours at a time.
He of course believed this was wrong; Adara was one of the few people that he truly enjoyed spending time with. But he didn't want to be hated by his parents, either. He could imagine his father's voice, 'Tut tut, Draco, defending these inferior races. You are much better off with the rest of us.' He could imagine his aunt Bellatrix cackling her slightly mad laugh, 'would it be easier if a murdered her? Then you wouldn't have to worry about her pretty little face!' No, it would be much better for him to not care about his sister. But that was like tripping someone just so you could escape the giants.
It was wrong.
But what was he to say about right and wrong? His family (well, excluding Adara) worshiped the dark lord. The dark lord was a murderer, and that was wrong.
"I'll talk to them, Adara. Even having them disinherit you would be better." He expected another vile comment, but instead she gave him a sort of side hug, resting her head on his shoulder. They stayed that way for a good ten minutes, and then Adara got up and set off towards the castle, leaving Draco alone with his thoughts.