How the Rivalry Began

~*A piano played softly and candles flickered around a large, elaborate room as people in elegant clothing and glasses of champagne danced or stood talking. The two most expensively dressed were, of course, Castel and Sarah Malfoy.

It was 1898, and the guests were gathered in the Malfoy Manor to celebrate Sarah's twenty-fourth birthday. She was talking to a couple who were good friends of the Malfoys, Maxwell and Charlotte Potter.

"This party is simply wonderful, Sarah," Charlotte beamed at her friend. "Oh Maxwell, this song is my favorite. Let's go dance." The two went on to the dance floor to a light, upbeat polka.

"Would you like another glass of champagne, Sarah?" Castel asked, beaming at his wife.

"Oh, thank you, Castel," Sarah said, though she seemed slightly distracted. Castel followed her eyes to the dance floor, where Maxwell and Charlotte were dancing. Castel found this slightly odd, but he forgot all about it.

Later, Sarah was opening the presents she had gotten from their friends when Castel noticed a beautiful, solid gold bracelet on her wrist.

"Where did you get that bracelet?" he asked, astonished. He knew their friends spared no expense for the Malfoys, but that must have cost thousands of galleons!

"Maxwell gave it to me," Sarah said fondly. Then she looked guilty. "Er, isn't it lovely?"

"Yes, yes it is," Castel said quietly, filled with suspicion. Then he realized what he was thinking and mentally shook himself. It wasn't possible his best friend and wife were cheating on him... was it? No!

Around midnight, the guests began to leave.

"Oh, Castel, would you be so kind as to take my presents to our room for me?" Sarah asked.

"Of course, dear. Why don't you show our guests to the door?" Castel agreed, ashamed for what he had though earlier.

When he had placed the presents in his room, he went to the Drawing Room for a cup of tea before bed. Outside the door, he heard strange noises and low voices.

"We mustn't be doing this!"

"Oh darling, do stop worrying about Castel..."

Castel sighed. Oh, surely the maid and the butler weren't at it again? He opened the door, prepared to break them apart, and the sight that greeted him wasn't a pleasant one.

Maxwell and Sarah were sitting on the sofa, tangled in a passionate embrace, lips together. They didn't notice Castel standing there, a look of shock and horror across his face. The look changed to anger. He had been right all along. How long had this been going on? Did it matter? He pulled out his wand.

"Imperio!" he screamed, aiming at Maxwell. Then he yelled again, "Imperio!" this time at Sarah. The two pulled apart and sat there, a dazed look on both of their faces.

"You will leave this manor when I am done speaking," Castel ordered through gritted teeth. "You will never see each other or me or these grounds again. Go now!"

The two of them stood up, as if sleep-walking, walked out the door and off the grounds. There, they turned in separate ways.

Castel sat in the Drawing Room, face in his hands. From there, everything went downhill. He lived a long, horrible life. He married again, to a selfish but beautiful woman, Christine. They had birth to a child of which they named Lucius. He was miserable without Sarah, but the spell or what his ex friend and wife had done could never be lifted.

Sarah and Maxwell never, as his spell had said, seen each other again. Sarah was forced to give up magic and live a Muggle life, as she had no money and such a bad reputation in the Wizard world. Maxwell remarried and had children, and stayed a wizard, but he was forced to move to a different part of the country to escape what he had done. He wasn't exactly happy, but he did have one lovely little boy, James. But no matter what he did, to his dying day, he always was haunted by his un-loyalty to his best friend. For that, he began to resort to the Dark Arts...

Fifty years after Sarah's party, the children of the rivaling families were at school at Hogwarts.

It was Friday afternoon and the second year Slytherins and Gryffindors were in the dungeons, mixing up a complicated wart removing potion. Lucius whispered to James, "Hey! You put in the wrong amount of clovers. You need one more cup,"

James looked behind him, scowling at Lucius. James had listened to his parents tell stories about all the bad things the Malfoys had done throughout the years.

James didn't really believe him. Lucius merely smiled innocently, his beady little eyes gleaming.

James sighed and looked at his potion, which, instead of the orange it was supposed to be, was a pale shade of pink. Perhaps he did need more clovers. Maybe Lucius was being nice. It didn't seem likely, but he figured his potion couldn't get any worse. He looked at his best friend, Sirius, whose potion was a strange shade of red. James looked behind him at Lucius's perfect, orange potion.

"Hey, mate, your potion's not looking too good," Sirius muttered. "You better fix it if you don't want detention from Professor Norman."

"Yours doesn't look that great either," James snapped. Sirius added some fig leaves and the potion turned the desired shade. Sirius smirked, poured a sample in to a flask, and went to give it to Professor Norman. James sighed again, and added another cup of clovers. This was a very, very bad idea. The potion turned purple and started boiling. James backed away in horror, hoping beyond hope it wouldn't explode or something. But explode it did, causing James and the nearest people around him to get soaked and immediately covered in big, red rashes.

When James got out of the hospital wing, he was sentenced to be tutored by a seventh year and cut from the Quidditch team until he started making better marks in Potions. When James tried to explain, no one believed him. In retaliation, James pulled a series of pranks on Lucius over the next week. After making his pants fall down in the hallway, dying his hair bright green, and giving him a beaver tail, he figured they were even.

But Lucius didn't think so. And for the rest of their years at Hogwarts, the rivalry never ended.

It had been one hundred years since Sarah's fateful party.

Harry and Draco were sitting in Care of Magical Creatures, listening to Hagrid drone on about Flobberworms. After the incident with Buckbeak, Hagrid had lost all his confidence, thanks to Malfoy, of course. Harry glared at the stupid cast on his arm. Occasionally, Malfoy would moan a little and clutch it, while looking as though he was trying not to laugh. Hagrid would look over nervously, clear his throat, and continue.

"So, the Flobberworm is jus' a fascinating critter," he said shakily. "Er... I got a bunch of 'em righ' here, so why don't you start feedin' them some lettuce."

On the way to his seat, Harry stumbled over Malfoy's outstretched foot.

"Oh, so sorry, Potter," Malfoy drawled, grinning. "It was an accident." Harry scowled at him and continued to his seat, vowing to get back at him, somehow.

One hundred and fifty years after Sarah's party, Jennifer Potter and Mark Malfoy were sitting in the Great Hall, glaring daggers at each other. The new table arrangement meant the Slytherins and Gryffindors were next to each other, and they had ended up sitting so they faced each other too. They were both thinking about that day in Transfiguration, when Jennifer had 'accidentally' turned Mark in to a frog instead of her hamster. Professor McGonagall had been so impressed Jennifer had managed this, she didn't even get a detention. But later that day in Charms, Malfoy had used an Inflating Charm on her so that she blew up to the size of a minibus. Professor Flitwick had ordered Malfoy to apologize, and when he said, "I won't apologize, I don't think the charm made any difference," Jennifer had retaliated by making him grow an extra nose. The two had both gotten detention. Jennifer groaned as she finished eating.

"I better get to Flitwick's office," she said to her best friend, Georgina Weasley. "I don't want to get more detention."

"Have fun," Georgina smirked.

Detention with Malfoy is the worst form of torture anyone could ever invent, Jennifer thought as she left Flitwick's office that evening. I hate Mark!

Fin