Torn

I stare at the door, which is looking more evil by the second, arms folded and pouting.
Sighing, I finally find the courage to knock on the black slab of wood. Almost instantly the door opens and at the door is Mrs. Malfoy.
“Come in child! Come in! I see your father isn’t here to drop you off. No matter, your here that’s what counts,” she flustered. “DOBBY? DOBBY? Where is that dreadful creature?”
“Sorry Mistress, Dobby was making master Malfoy a drink,” apologised Dobby. Mrs Malfoy points to my coat. Muttering apologies he takes my coat and hangs it on the rack.
“I could have done that without a problem,” I say quietly.
“No my child,” she laughs. “You are a guest and will be treated like one and in addition what’s the use of having a house elf if he doesn’t do anything? Anyhow, up the stairs second door on the left.” I trudge up the stairs quietly and creep past Draco’s door. Once I’m in the guest room, my room most of the year, I shut the door and start to unpack.
I’ve been doing this ritual since I could walk and talk. My father works at Hogwarts, a school for future witches and wizards, and is the potions teacher, Severus Snape, he never talks to me and I don’t really mind, I like to keep to myself. I have brown, long and straight hair and look nothing like my father.