Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction by a girl who intends no copyright infringement. I am not within spitting distance of anyone from either Bloomsbury or Scholastic Publishing, nor am I associated with JK Rowling or anyone SHE is within spitting distance of. This work does not imply that either Daniel Radcliffe or Tom Felton are homosexual. This story is based purely on the wonderful works by JK Rowling.
"And I'm sorry if it was I who caused you pain,
and I'm sorry if I ever cause you pain."
--Jewel "Sometimes It Be That Way"
"And perfect Potter with his perfect friends and his perfect everything…its bloody ridiculous," complained Draco Malfoy as he and his father, Lucius Malfoy, walked through Diagon Alley. Lucius scowled down at his son.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you doted on that boy. Maybe if you did your homework you'd be able to show 'perfect Potter' up." Lucius paused to pick up a few ink pots and put them in Draco's already supply-laden arms, and resumed his rebuke. "It's not Potter's fault but your own that I received four letters last year referring to your lack of motivation."
With a scowl, Draco replied, "Only because all the teachers, except Snape, hate me."
"Stop giving them reason to hate you, then, dear," his mother said, patting his head. He ducked out from under her hand as he saw Potter and Weasel turn the corner, with Granger running to catch up. Draco had no intention of allowing those particular three seeing his mother dote on him. He noted with satisfaction that Weasel still looked as dumpy and poor as ever, Granger was as frizzy and uptight as ever, and Potter…well…Potter was just as perfect as ever, but still keeping the company of Muggles and Muggle lovers.
Since the Malfoy's were walking South and the trio was walking North, they would pass each other, and very closely on Diagon Alley's tight streets.
And as they did, Draco gave them all very cold, hard stares and had it returned three-fold.
Until…
Draco's mother was carrying a box of dragon tongues and because she was very clumsy, let them slip from her hands. The person who dove forward and caught them was ('of course' Draco thought bitterly) perfect Potter. He handed them back to Mrs. Malfoy, who gave him a tight lipped smile and a curt 'thank you.'
"Honestly, mother," Draco said in exasperation when the trio was out of earshot, "you completely ruined any sort of evil eye I was giving them."
"Dragon tongues taste no good covered in the soil off people's shoes, and don't tell me not to say thank you, even if it is that Potter boy."
"Besides," interjected Lucius coldly, "now that he knows about me, I think it'd be best if I pretend he doesn't even exist."
Draco fell into a sullen silence when they went back home to their manor and he packed his trunk in silence. He no longer had a house elf to do it for him, since mother refused to buy a new one.
Then he sat in his room, playing with some exploding snaps and wishing he could watch Ron Weasley and Harry Potter disappear in smoke and flames. The Granger going up in flames with them. He was so set in watching and thinking that he didn't notice his father standing at the doorway for some time.
When he did, Draco yelled out in surprise and then scowled at his father. "Can I help you?"
"I need to remind of something very important. Don't even…"
"Think about mentioning the Dark Arts to anyone," finished Draco maliciously. "Do you think I'm really stupid or do you just act like you do? And besides, as much as I want Voldemort on my ass, I'll keep my mouth shut."
With two quick strides, Lucius had reached his son and knocked him from his bed with one swift blow. Draco tumbled from the bed but bit back his cry of pain. It was the mark of a Malfoy to be silent in defeat and in triumph. Sometimes, though, for Draco, it was a triumph to be silent.
~
"Draco!"
Narcissa Malfoy's shrill voice sucked Draco away from his…nightmare? He had dreamed it was just him and Potter in a very small room…just the two of them…
'I should've hexed him when I had the chance,' Draco thought angrily to himself, trying to push out of his mind how those enchanting green eyes looked staring coolly down at him.
"Draco!" The voice sounded again and Draco shot up in bed, calling back, "Alright, Mother! I'm up! I'm up!"
Muttering to himself what a miserable old bat his mother was, Draco dressed in his Hogwarts robes, since his mother insisted on taking pictures of him before they traveled by Floo Powder to Platform 9 ¾. Lucius, of course, would just look and Draco and instruct him to stand up taller, no Malfoy would slump.
The barn owl Draco owned, playfully named Kedavra, hooted loudly as Draco set him on top of his trunk and began to pull it from his room. He felt no emotional attachment to this manor, and could care less that he was leaving behind a messy bed, a diary his mother kept forcing him to write in, and a list only he could read, of the Death Eaters the Malfoy family was in constant contact with lately.
"Oh, Draco, don't you look dashing?" Narcissa cooed loudly, rushing over to her son and smoothing his white-blonde hair back with her wand, even more than the gel he'd used could.
"'Cissa, he looks like a pansy boy!" Lucius roared, walking into the room. Draco cringed inwardly as his father approached, but on his face painted a perfect picture of an insubordinate teen.
"Thanks, dad," supplied Draco sarcastically, as his mother forced his arms outward to critique Madam Malkin's tailoring job.
"She's always made the sleeves far too short," commented Narcissa, completely and idiotically unaware of the sinister looks Draco and Lucius were exchanging, masked by sarcasm and anger, respectively.
When Narcissa had finished extending his sleeves, she sent him through the fireplace first. Except, being the incredibly inept mother she could sometimes be, Draco manage to land on top of someone who had just appeared in the designated fireplace.
Draco and Harry Potter rolled away, Draco hitting his forehead against Potter's trunk and Potter scraping his cheek against the fireplace before slamming to a stop against a pillar. There was some chuckling at their misfortunes from the audience, but Draco was soon dragged to his feet by Pansy Parkinson and Weasel and Granger pulled Potter up.
"That was quick, ferret. Usually you wait until you're on the train to attack us," Weasel said angrily. Granger was looking at the bloodstained scrape on Potter's cheek, while Pansy squealed over his cut and bleeding forehead.
"Shut up, Weasel," Draco shot back angrily. Potter wiped his face with the back of his hand and glanced down at the blood on his pale skin. "Hey Potter. Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll have a bloody scar too."
Out of nowhere, Weasel pointed his want at Draco and yelled "Relashio!" The jet of red sparks missed Draco's face by inches, but the ignited his collar. He yelped and slammed his hand over it, smothering the small flame.
"Ronald Weasley!" A dumpy looking woman grabbed Weasel by his collar and dragged him backwards, and Draco felt the presence of his father over his shoulder.
"You'll do well to keep your multiple children in check," Lucius said, sneering at Fred and George, who returned his glance with hatred. Mrs. Weasley colored as Narcissa appeared by Lucius, carrying Draco's trunk and owl.
"Maybe if you paid attention, your son wouldn't have come shooting out of the fireplace like that."
"May I remind you it was your son who attacked mine?" Narcissa shrieked, attracting the attention of those around them who weren't already watching. She practically flung herself at Draco, shoving Pansy away, about to heal his wound with her wand, but the train gave its warning whistle.
"Mum, I'm going to miss the train!" Draco protested irritably, pushing her hand away and grabbing his things. Potter and his entourage had already gathered their things and walked away, all casting irate looks back at the Malfoy family.
It looked as though it was painful for Narcissa to watch her son drag his things onto the train, blinking blood out of his eyes.
"I'll clean up on the train, I swear!" he called out, and then gave his father a cold look before slamming the train door shut. He'd probably pay dearly for that, but it felt good to have the last glance for once.
"Oh, Draco!" Pansy practically screamed, rushing towards him with a cloth in hand. "That little Muggle loving freak! He could've killed you!" Her jerking dabs at his wound were hurting him more than helping, so he pushed her hand away and went on a search of maybe some water, or someone who could at least shoot some water at his head with their wand.
Goyle blundered over and offered just that, but the mere thought of Goyle or Crabbe pointing a wand at his head frightened Draco, and he instead found himself looking for someone he could scare into submission. He was tempted to make Longbottom do it, but the squib was shaking so hard the water was almost sure to end up in Draco's eyes.
After a couple minutes, Draco saw he had only one choice…
To enter the Hogwarts Express bathroom, a fate worse than death.
It was a public restroom, with multiple toilets to choose from, and it smelled to high heaven. His eyes watering too much to perform any type of spell to get rid of the smell, Draco went over to the sink and began to clean his cut.
The door opened but he ignored it, concentrating only on himself. Whoever it was also went to a sink and was glancing at themselves in the mirror. A sideways glance at round black glasses and unruly jet black hair easily told Draco who it was.
"Treating your wounds?" he quipped.
"If it scars, I'll remember you. Just like Voldemort," Potter replied calmly. He was prodding the scrape with his fingertips.
"It won't scar, moron. It's a scrape. I'm the one with a bloody hole in my forehead."
"That could have been prevented if you paid attention when exiting a fire grate." Potter finished jabbing his wound and left, leaving Draco feeling strangely more alone than before.
This is slash. Don't like it, don't read it, don't flame it.
I have made my version of Draco's fifth year schedule. The url for this table is: http://www.geocities.com/musesofstarz/dracoschedule.html. If you want to see what Draco will be attending before I even talk about it, go there! Hah. Thanks. And now on to the story.
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