I gasped, waking up from the horrible dream again. It was Voldemort in that dream, and he was planning death for someone.

He pointed his wand at me, then towards the person laying on the floor. I could only see his legs. Voldemort spoke. "Tell me where it is, now! Or I will kill your little boyfriend." That was the confusing part of the scene. I didn't have a boyfriend. Voldemort then walked over to the boy. He moved the blanket away from the upper part of the boy's body. It was Draco. He was struggling, shaking his head violently. He was trying to get me not to tell Voldemort? Not even to save his life? That didn't sound like him, then again, this Draco looked older, less arrogant. I felt a pang in my chest. I would tell Voldemort, no matter what Draco wanted. I needed him to live. In the dream, I loved him. But I couldn't figure out what Voldemort wanted. He started counting, "Five, four, three, two, one, Avada Kedavra!" There was the beginning of a flash, and I woke up, crying for the person I hated most.

I was still breathing hard, taking in gulp after gulp of useless air. Tears streaked my face. It was still dark, about three in the morning. I got up and tried to walk it off, but it didn't work, so I sat down on my bed. My breathing eventually slowed, but the irrational tears kept coming. But somehow I finally managed to get to sleep, which was this time, thankfully, dreamless.

I woke up slowly this time, light seeping in my bedroom window. I walked over to my calendar, then momentarily panicked. It was the 31st , the 31st of August, and I hadn't packed up my stuff yet. I flew through the house, begging anyone in the place to help me. My brother and sister refused, so I flicked Sarah (who is younger than me, just starting Hogwarts) on the nose, and punched Darren (my seventh-year older brother) in the stomach. Donno, our house elf, was happy to help, and so was my mom.

(A/N: It may seem horrible that they have a house elf, but unlike other people, they aren't cruel to him. They don't command him to do things. They ask, unless it is something that will stand between life and death.)

We searched the house, looking for everything I needed to pack. We spent forever looking for my required sock, just to find them already laying in my trunkā€¦. face palm, I know, but I forget things! Finally we were done and I went to get dressed for the day. I took a shower, put on some skinny jeans, oh how I would miss them at Hogwarts, and a Ravenclaw t-shirt. I then proceeded to the yard, where I inevitably saw Draco next door.

He smirked, "Hey, Mason."

"Hello, Malfoy," I replied. "Anything new inflating your already oversized ego?"

To my general surprise, he chuckled. "Why of course there is. We just had a new Quidditch pitch built in our yard. Want to play?"

I rolled my eyes at him, and in spite of myself, I smiled. "Sure, I'll get my broom."

As I walked over to the gigantic broom shed in my yard, I thought about my dream and how I was actually laughing around him. I should be smarter than this. I'm a Ravenclaw. It's not smart to like a Slytherin, even as a friend, especially Draco Malfoy. I had hated this boy for twelve years, ever since he pushed me into the fountain in his yard. He's been evil since we were three, and I'm playing Quidditch with him. Great idea, Calliope. Great idea.

Oddly enough, playing with Draco (not in that way, perverts) was actually fun. He wasn't being as stuck up as usual, saying that I must not be pureblood because my family is "soft", like he usually does. He was just being the Draco that I had started to like when we were nine, but turned around and started being a jerk again after I gave him what he wanted. I had to be careful. He wanted something from me, but I would NOT let him get it.