1 Hey! This is my firs fic. I'm WARNING now! :::::THIS WILL BECOME SLASH IN
A NEAR FUTURE::::: You have been warned…I don't want flames later on,
complaining 'cause it's gross, ok? 'Cause I DID warn! ( Oh yeah, rated PG-
13 for slash and language!
Summary: Harry and Draco both end up going to a muggle school…How you ask…read!
Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story except the plot, and the really pathetic names (you'll see) later on in the story. Everything that has to do with the magical world of Harry Potter belongs to the goddess of literature, J.K. Rowling.
/…/ Are thoughts
*…* Is for something really emphasized
*****…..***** Are flashbacks and when they end (duh. I explain it in the story, but just to make sure…)
2
3 Ashtrona Hills
-Prologue-
Harry was lying face down, miserable on his bed. He was playing with the lose threads on the old, faded rug that occupied quite a large part of his room. It was grotesque really. Supposedly, it had been placed there to protect the "beautiful" wooden floor of the bedroom; once he had moved into the room just 5 years ago, his aunt had thought it best to place old rags here and there throughout the entire room to ensure the safety of the valuable furniture inside it.
The disgusting rug from the floor wasn't the only thing; there was an old towel on the dresser, a strange shaped sheet (which Aunt Petunia had cut out, and designed herself) covering the chair used to sit at the desk, which was simply covered in a wicked assortment of rags (also a part of Aunt Petunia's Collection of Beautiful and Artistic Sewing), and Dudley's old gym socks were placed upon the bedposts. All there to make sure Harry didn't ruin anything in the room…even though there was nothing in the room that hadn't already been ruined, except perhaps his things.
This summer had been plain awful. Worse than awful: terrible. Hell, even worse than that. Actually…that was just the word. Hell. This summer had been Hell.
He had been out in the garden, doing housework as usual, when an owl had arrived for his Uncle.
That had not been a pretty sight.
Apparently Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had sent an owl to Vernon Dursley in order to notify him of his nephew's well being.
The letter spoke of everything Harry had gone through the previous year at school, with the whole Tri-Wizard thing, and whatnot. It stated that he should be treated with special care since he was in a "sensible" state, and it would be best to leave him to himself if he wanted. It also said not to mention anything about the Tournament or Voldemort so he could try to be at peace.
Did they actually think that was going to work?
Well, it obviously hadn't.
The Dursleys made sure to always mention one thing or another concerning Harry's past year at school. They especially emphasized the part about Cedric Diggory, since they learned from the beginning that Harry felt extremely responsible for his death.
Ah, but the worst was yet to come.
This time, Harry had been up on the roof, working on some lose tiles, when his Uncle came bounding outside, purple faced, yelling at the top of his lungs.
"Boy! Shut the trap on that owl of yours this instant! Unless you want her to become part of tonight's dinner! Owl casserole, mmmm (A/N: that's supposed to be for thinking, not appetite…hehe)…what do you think? Want to become part of yet another murder?"
Harry felt a large burst of anger and guilt surge through him. He stayed quite.
"What? Cat got your tongue? I'm not surprised…this Diggory boy's death probably wasn't the first one you cooperated with, was it? I mean, with a convict godfather, what else can you expect? And those parents of yours…even though you were small, they were probably already teaching you how to be evil weren't they? That explains a whole lot…no wonder you survived that attack from that evil - evil - evil thing", he couldn't dare say 'wizard', "he probably didn't want to kill you. I say he saw it in you…he knew you'd grow up to become an evil murderer", he spat that out, making sure to emphasize, "so he didn't think it was worth it to destroy someone who could one day help him kill others; enjoying watching people drop like flies!"
That did it. Anger won over the guilt, as it flowed freely through his body. He could feel it pulsating through his veins. He was used to the comments about how he "helped" murder Cedric, but this was too much…far too much!! How dare he say he helped murder his parents! How dare he say he enjoyed watching people die! How dare he say he wanted to join Voldemort!
But the part about his parents was the most shocking. He was only a baby! One year old! This was ridiculous…he had had it, and he wasn't going to stay quiet anymore!
"W-what did you say?" He was so angry, he was stuttering. He was angrier than ever before in his life; even angrier than the time Aunt Marge had insulted his father.
"You heard me boy," his uncle spat, "I said- "
But he didn't get to finish, because at that very moment his tongue began to swell up inside his mouth. It was turning a deep purple, and resembled Dudley's tongue after he'd had some of Fred and George's Ton-Tongue Toffee last summer.
Harry immediately realized what was going on: his magic had gone out of control again, and he'd unconsciously performed a spell of some sort on his uncle. Which was bad…very bad indeed.
Some would've thought, from the look on his face, that Harry was worried about his uncle's health; after all, he was turning a sickly shade of blue from lack of oxygen. But no, that wasn't it…Harry was worried about his magic. He had performed magic!! And, if you counted the incident with Aunt Marge 2 years ago, it was the third time (this was also counting the incident with Dobby, which if looked upon, wasn't exactly his fault. After all, he hadn't performed the spell.) he had performed magic outside of Hogwarts, and he was positively sure he would be expelled this time!
But nothing happened…
No one came…medi-wizards, ministry officials, no one…
Strange…
And even though he hated his uncle, even though Vernon had just insulted him and called him a murderer, he couldn't help but feel worried and guilty. He just couldn't help being so…well, Harry.
When Uncle Vernon turned yet another spectacular and nastier shade of blue he began to panic.
Performing magic may be forbidden during the holidays, but being who he is and with Voldemort back on the rise, he carried his wand with him everywhere…hidden, of course.
The problem was, he didn't know any spells that helped shrink swollen tongues back to normal size…/Think, think…come on, think! /, he thought, /If engorgio is to enlarge objects…then…reducio is to shrink them back!! /.
"Reducio!" He said, trying to remain clam. His uncle's tongue slowly shrank back to its normal size.
He knew what was in for him…he simply knew.
Even though he had just saved his uncle's life, he knew he would be punished for performing magic in the first place. Not that he meant to…and anyway, Vernon had asked for it!
"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" his uncle yelled as loudly as he could, though his voice was rather raspy. "Trying to kill me are you!? Coming after my family as well, eh? Well, not anymore!"
He grabbed Harry (who had jumped off the roof during the whole tongue fiasco in order to deal with the situation better) by the collar of his shirt and slightly lifted him off from the ground.
"I knew what those people were teaching you! I knew it right from the start!" He yelled, right in Harry's face. "They're all evil…you're all evil! It's not one egg that's rotten, it's the entire package!!" At this, he threw Harry harshly to the ground. "I knew it! I knew it!! All of you wizards go on to that – that school of yours to learn from the devil himself!! You go off, and probably learn this kind of – of magic all year long in order to torture us, and try to kill us! Us!! Your family!! Ungrateful bastard!" He purposely emphasized the bastard, and then presented him with a kick to the ribs. "After all we've done for you and you try to kill me! We've fed you, sheltered you, placed the fucking clothes on your back…and for what!? An attempt at killing me?!" At this, Harry wanted to protest, but thought better of it. He didn't dare talk back to his uncle while he was in this state. He'd never seen him this angry. constitución
"That's it! That's it!!" Vernon rated on. "You are never going back to that school again, you hear me? NEVER!!" And with one final kick to the ribs, Vernon picked Harry up roughly by the middle (/Probably because he knows he left me very sore there/ Harry thought) and dragged him back into the house, where he proceeded to lock him up in the already overly-too-small cupboard under the stairs.
While they were coming into the house Harry noticed 3 things: 1) His uncle had picked up his wand right after Harry had shrank his tongue back, 2) Aunt Petunia and Dudley had been in the living room watching T.V. at the moment Vernon tore into the house. Harry vaguely noticed that they had both retreated, afraid of Vernon from how angry he was, and 3) Thankfully (more like unfortunately), Harry had been fixing the tiles on the roof from the back part of the house, meaning that when the whole riot had taken place, they had been in the backyard, free of prying eyes. Nobody had witnessed the episode. Nobody could help him.
Harry vaguely registered the sound of wood snapping, like a twig, or a small branch; the grumbled "Just to make sure 'magic' can't be performed under my roof any more!" and the sound of, what seemed to be furniture, gliding across the floor, then coming to a stop in front of the cupboard along with a final "thump" of approval that something had been placed to make sure "The Devil"(his new title) couldn't escape. /Well, at least 'Devil' seems to suit me more than Boy Who Lived…after all, I did kill Cedric…/ were his final thoughts before his world went black.
Far, far away from all the commotion at Private Drive, was another boy, who was deep in thought, and seemingly miserable as well…
****FLASHBACK****
Draco Malfoy had just gotten off the train back from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the summer. He was extremely excited, especially since he was going to see his parents again. He'd missed them terribly; most of all his mother, whom he was closer to. Not that he wasn't close to his father, because he was. It's just that his father was always away on business. His work (*snort* /Killing mudbloods isn't really work, but oh well. Call it what you will. / Draco thought. /Then again, there's the Ministry, of course. But that's hardly considered work either. Just a shitload of sucking up and another of money and, voila! You've got them eating from the palm of your hand. /) was always carrying him about from one place to the other. But oh well, when he did see him they got along quite well…and, his father always gave him whatever he wanted. What more could he ask of him?
After watching the sickeningly sweet Goodbye Party that Weasel and The Mudblood gave Potter, he nearly wanted to puke. /Blegh! Potter has Mudblood germs! Aw, man!! / He though, right after he'd witnessed Granger kiss Potter on the cheek, and the pathetic display of water-works from who (/Or what…geez, that woman should look in a mirror! It would definitely tell her to lose about 20 kilos! /) (A/N: In Europe, they use that system right? Kilos instead of pounds? 'Cause I'm not sure…) he supposed to be Weasley's mother.
When he'd finally got out of that disgusting, muggle train station, he immediately found one of his family's many old-fashioned, large, luxurious and, of course, expensive cars waiting for him, parked directly in front of the exit (from the station). He stepped in, and the drive began the journey up to Malfoy Manor.
As soon as he reached it though, he wished he never would've, for it was absolutely destroyed.
The (formerly) large mansion lay devastated on the vast grounds that surrounded it. Every wall, every room, every nook had been torn down.
Since the Manor had been located on the outskirts of a muggle, not wizard, town, the place was swarmed with muggle policemen, doctors, firemen, etc.
Draco immediately went up to a policeman. "Excuse me? Exactly what is going on here!? I demand to know, now! I live…well, lived there!!" He said, pointing towards the left-over rubbish
"Um, young man, I'm going to have to ask you to please step away from the wreckage. You could get yourself hurt."
"No! I demand to know NOW! This was my house god-dammit, and I want to know exactly what in Heaven's name happened here!! NOW!!" He barked at the police officer once again.
"Now, now! No need to be so vulgar! But all right, if you demand to know…and after all, this was your house…all right. But let's step aside please, this is too dangerous for a boy your age to be so near…" The officer complied, taking Draco quite some distance from the site of the wreckage.
Draco positively fumed at the part about his age, but quickly forgot to say anything as the officer agreed to tell him what had happened. "So? What happened? Go on, go on!"
"Well, er…we don't really know. Down at the town we heard a large quantity of explosives go off…or at least that's what it sounded like, and we immediately came. There was a lot of green light…don't know why really. It was terrible…just terrible."
The officer heard the young man mutter something along he lines of "Stupid muggles are too naïve for their own fucking good…"
"Excuse me?" He asked upon hearing the comment.
"What? Oh, nothing. Um…what happened to my family? The people inside the house?" Draco asked nervously.
"Oh dear. Um…er…they're all dead. We've found about 20 bodies…and the strangest things too…" But Draco shunned the rest out. Dead. His family was dead. He felt his throat contract and a prickly sensation at the corners of his eyes. No, he would not cry…Malfoys never cried, no matter what…
"…and we don't exactly know what they are. We think they might just be people who were simply crushed by the building's fall, and are now unrecognizable." Draco managed to tune the officer back in.
"Right…yeah…uh-huh…" was all he managed to choke out. But suddenly, a thought came to mind. "Wait a minute…" he said, still quite shaky, "…what's going to happen to me?"
"Well Mister Malfoy, I believe?" The officer said, checking his notes and records. "Yes, you're going to go down to the station with us. We'll see if we can contact any relations you may have. If not, you'll be going to Sunny Ray's Shelter for Orphaned Children."
(A/N: I know, lame name…)
"What!?" Draco panicked…he knew he didn't have any other relations. "An orphanage!?" /And to top it all of a muggle one! AGH!! Where are the wizards!? How come there aren't any here!? Someone at the Ministry must be aware of what's going on!…right? /
"Yes, yes. But first we'll try to contact any relations, and…"
****END FLASHBACK****
Yup…and here he was, at Sunny Ray's Shelter for Orphaned Children. A *muggle* orphanage. He, Draco Malfoy…who would've thought. And it was already past the date he usually received his Hogwarts letter too. If he didn't get the freaking owl soon, he would crack. /Imagine if I have to go to a *muggle* school as well. Just imagine…/
-End Prologue- [[[It's a bit long for a prologue, but hey, I tend to talk a lot, thus I write a lot]]]
Please tell me what you think!! REVIEW! If you have any suggestions or comments, feel free to tell me about them! Thanks…;)
Summary: Harry and Draco both end up going to a muggle school…How you ask…read!
Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story except the plot, and the really pathetic names (you'll see) later on in the story. Everything that has to do with the magical world of Harry Potter belongs to the goddess of literature, J.K. Rowling.
/…/ Are thoughts
*…* Is for something really emphasized
*****…..***** Are flashbacks and when they end (duh. I explain it in the story, but just to make sure…)
2
3 Ashtrona Hills
-Prologue-
Harry was lying face down, miserable on his bed. He was playing with the lose threads on the old, faded rug that occupied quite a large part of his room. It was grotesque really. Supposedly, it had been placed there to protect the "beautiful" wooden floor of the bedroom; once he had moved into the room just 5 years ago, his aunt had thought it best to place old rags here and there throughout the entire room to ensure the safety of the valuable furniture inside it.
The disgusting rug from the floor wasn't the only thing; there was an old towel on the dresser, a strange shaped sheet (which Aunt Petunia had cut out, and designed herself) covering the chair used to sit at the desk, which was simply covered in a wicked assortment of rags (also a part of Aunt Petunia's Collection of Beautiful and Artistic Sewing), and Dudley's old gym socks were placed upon the bedposts. All there to make sure Harry didn't ruin anything in the room…even though there was nothing in the room that hadn't already been ruined, except perhaps his things.
This summer had been plain awful. Worse than awful: terrible. Hell, even worse than that. Actually…that was just the word. Hell. This summer had been Hell.
He had been out in the garden, doing housework as usual, when an owl had arrived for his Uncle.
That had not been a pretty sight.
Apparently Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had sent an owl to Vernon Dursley in order to notify him of his nephew's well being.
The letter spoke of everything Harry had gone through the previous year at school, with the whole Tri-Wizard thing, and whatnot. It stated that he should be treated with special care since he was in a "sensible" state, and it would be best to leave him to himself if he wanted. It also said not to mention anything about the Tournament or Voldemort so he could try to be at peace.
Did they actually think that was going to work?
Well, it obviously hadn't.
The Dursleys made sure to always mention one thing or another concerning Harry's past year at school. They especially emphasized the part about Cedric Diggory, since they learned from the beginning that Harry felt extremely responsible for his death.
Ah, but the worst was yet to come.
This time, Harry had been up on the roof, working on some lose tiles, when his Uncle came bounding outside, purple faced, yelling at the top of his lungs.
"Boy! Shut the trap on that owl of yours this instant! Unless you want her to become part of tonight's dinner! Owl casserole, mmmm (A/N: that's supposed to be for thinking, not appetite…hehe)…what do you think? Want to become part of yet another murder?"
Harry felt a large burst of anger and guilt surge through him. He stayed quite.
"What? Cat got your tongue? I'm not surprised…this Diggory boy's death probably wasn't the first one you cooperated with, was it? I mean, with a convict godfather, what else can you expect? And those parents of yours…even though you were small, they were probably already teaching you how to be evil weren't they? That explains a whole lot…no wonder you survived that attack from that evil - evil - evil thing", he couldn't dare say 'wizard', "he probably didn't want to kill you. I say he saw it in you…he knew you'd grow up to become an evil murderer", he spat that out, making sure to emphasize, "so he didn't think it was worth it to destroy someone who could one day help him kill others; enjoying watching people drop like flies!"
That did it. Anger won over the guilt, as it flowed freely through his body. He could feel it pulsating through his veins. He was used to the comments about how he "helped" murder Cedric, but this was too much…far too much!! How dare he say he helped murder his parents! How dare he say he enjoyed watching people die! How dare he say he wanted to join Voldemort!
But the part about his parents was the most shocking. He was only a baby! One year old! This was ridiculous…he had had it, and he wasn't going to stay quiet anymore!
"W-what did you say?" He was so angry, he was stuttering. He was angrier than ever before in his life; even angrier than the time Aunt Marge had insulted his father.
"You heard me boy," his uncle spat, "I said- "
But he didn't get to finish, because at that very moment his tongue began to swell up inside his mouth. It was turning a deep purple, and resembled Dudley's tongue after he'd had some of Fred and George's Ton-Tongue Toffee last summer.
Harry immediately realized what was going on: his magic had gone out of control again, and he'd unconsciously performed a spell of some sort on his uncle. Which was bad…very bad indeed.
Some would've thought, from the look on his face, that Harry was worried about his uncle's health; after all, he was turning a sickly shade of blue from lack of oxygen. But no, that wasn't it…Harry was worried about his magic. He had performed magic!! And, if you counted the incident with Aunt Marge 2 years ago, it was the third time (this was also counting the incident with Dobby, which if looked upon, wasn't exactly his fault. After all, he hadn't performed the spell.) he had performed magic outside of Hogwarts, and he was positively sure he would be expelled this time!
But nothing happened…
No one came…medi-wizards, ministry officials, no one…
Strange…
And even though he hated his uncle, even though Vernon had just insulted him and called him a murderer, he couldn't help but feel worried and guilty. He just couldn't help being so…well, Harry.
When Uncle Vernon turned yet another spectacular and nastier shade of blue he began to panic.
Performing magic may be forbidden during the holidays, but being who he is and with Voldemort back on the rise, he carried his wand with him everywhere…hidden, of course.
The problem was, he didn't know any spells that helped shrink swollen tongues back to normal size…/Think, think…come on, think! /, he thought, /If engorgio is to enlarge objects…then…reducio is to shrink them back!! /.
"Reducio!" He said, trying to remain clam. His uncle's tongue slowly shrank back to its normal size.
He knew what was in for him…he simply knew.
Even though he had just saved his uncle's life, he knew he would be punished for performing magic in the first place. Not that he meant to…and anyway, Vernon had asked for it!
"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" his uncle yelled as loudly as he could, though his voice was rather raspy. "Trying to kill me are you!? Coming after my family as well, eh? Well, not anymore!"
He grabbed Harry (who had jumped off the roof during the whole tongue fiasco in order to deal with the situation better) by the collar of his shirt and slightly lifted him off from the ground.
"I knew what those people were teaching you! I knew it right from the start!" He yelled, right in Harry's face. "They're all evil…you're all evil! It's not one egg that's rotten, it's the entire package!!" At this, he threw Harry harshly to the ground. "I knew it! I knew it!! All of you wizards go on to that – that school of yours to learn from the devil himself!! You go off, and probably learn this kind of – of magic all year long in order to torture us, and try to kill us! Us!! Your family!! Ungrateful bastard!" He purposely emphasized the bastard, and then presented him with a kick to the ribs. "After all we've done for you and you try to kill me! We've fed you, sheltered you, placed the fucking clothes on your back…and for what!? An attempt at killing me?!" At this, Harry wanted to protest, but thought better of it. He didn't dare talk back to his uncle while he was in this state. He'd never seen him this angry. constitución
"That's it! That's it!!" Vernon rated on. "You are never going back to that school again, you hear me? NEVER!!" And with one final kick to the ribs, Vernon picked Harry up roughly by the middle (/Probably because he knows he left me very sore there/ Harry thought) and dragged him back into the house, where he proceeded to lock him up in the already overly-too-small cupboard under the stairs.
While they were coming into the house Harry noticed 3 things: 1) His uncle had picked up his wand right after Harry had shrank his tongue back, 2) Aunt Petunia and Dudley had been in the living room watching T.V. at the moment Vernon tore into the house. Harry vaguely noticed that they had both retreated, afraid of Vernon from how angry he was, and 3) Thankfully (more like unfortunately), Harry had been fixing the tiles on the roof from the back part of the house, meaning that when the whole riot had taken place, they had been in the backyard, free of prying eyes. Nobody had witnessed the episode. Nobody could help him.
Harry vaguely registered the sound of wood snapping, like a twig, or a small branch; the grumbled "Just to make sure 'magic' can't be performed under my roof any more!" and the sound of, what seemed to be furniture, gliding across the floor, then coming to a stop in front of the cupboard along with a final "thump" of approval that something had been placed to make sure "The Devil"(his new title) couldn't escape. /Well, at least 'Devil' seems to suit me more than Boy Who Lived…after all, I did kill Cedric…/ were his final thoughts before his world went black.
Far, far away from all the commotion at Private Drive, was another boy, who was deep in thought, and seemingly miserable as well…
****FLASHBACK****
Draco Malfoy had just gotten off the train back from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the summer. He was extremely excited, especially since he was going to see his parents again. He'd missed them terribly; most of all his mother, whom he was closer to. Not that he wasn't close to his father, because he was. It's just that his father was always away on business. His work (*snort* /Killing mudbloods isn't really work, but oh well. Call it what you will. / Draco thought. /Then again, there's the Ministry, of course. But that's hardly considered work either. Just a shitload of sucking up and another of money and, voila! You've got them eating from the palm of your hand. /) was always carrying him about from one place to the other. But oh well, when he did see him they got along quite well…and, his father always gave him whatever he wanted. What more could he ask of him?
After watching the sickeningly sweet Goodbye Party that Weasel and The Mudblood gave Potter, he nearly wanted to puke. /Blegh! Potter has Mudblood germs! Aw, man!! / He though, right after he'd witnessed Granger kiss Potter on the cheek, and the pathetic display of water-works from who (/Or what…geez, that woman should look in a mirror! It would definitely tell her to lose about 20 kilos! /) (A/N: In Europe, they use that system right? Kilos instead of pounds? 'Cause I'm not sure…) he supposed to be Weasley's mother.
When he'd finally got out of that disgusting, muggle train station, he immediately found one of his family's many old-fashioned, large, luxurious and, of course, expensive cars waiting for him, parked directly in front of the exit (from the station). He stepped in, and the drive began the journey up to Malfoy Manor.
As soon as he reached it though, he wished he never would've, for it was absolutely destroyed.
The (formerly) large mansion lay devastated on the vast grounds that surrounded it. Every wall, every room, every nook had been torn down.
Since the Manor had been located on the outskirts of a muggle, not wizard, town, the place was swarmed with muggle policemen, doctors, firemen, etc.
Draco immediately went up to a policeman. "Excuse me? Exactly what is going on here!? I demand to know, now! I live…well, lived there!!" He said, pointing towards the left-over rubbish
"Um, young man, I'm going to have to ask you to please step away from the wreckage. You could get yourself hurt."
"No! I demand to know NOW! This was my house god-dammit, and I want to know exactly what in Heaven's name happened here!! NOW!!" He barked at the police officer once again.
"Now, now! No need to be so vulgar! But all right, if you demand to know…and after all, this was your house…all right. But let's step aside please, this is too dangerous for a boy your age to be so near…" The officer complied, taking Draco quite some distance from the site of the wreckage.
Draco positively fumed at the part about his age, but quickly forgot to say anything as the officer agreed to tell him what had happened. "So? What happened? Go on, go on!"
"Well, er…we don't really know. Down at the town we heard a large quantity of explosives go off…or at least that's what it sounded like, and we immediately came. There was a lot of green light…don't know why really. It was terrible…just terrible."
The officer heard the young man mutter something along he lines of "Stupid muggles are too naïve for their own fucking good…"
"Excuse me?" He asked upon hearing the comment.
"What? Oh, nothing. Um…what happened to my family? The people inside the house?" Draco asked nervously.
"Oh dear. Um…er…they're all dead. We've found about 20 bodies…and the strangest things too…" But Draco shunned the rest out. Dead. His family was dead. He felt his throat contract and a prickly sensation at the corners of his eyes. No, he would not cry…Malfoys never cried, no matter what…
"…and we don't exactly know what they are. We think they might just be people who were simply crushed by the building's fall, and are now unrecognizable." Draco managed to tune the officer back in.
"Right…yeah…uh-huh…" was all he managed to choke out. But suddenly, a thought came to mind. "Wait a minute…" he said, still quite shaky, "…what's going to happen to me?"
"Well Mister Malfoy, I believe?" The officer said, checking his notes and records. "Yes, you're going to go down to the station with us. We'll see if we can contact any relations you may have. If not, you'll be going to Sunny Ray's Shelter for Orphaned Children."
(A/N: I know, lame name…)
"What!?" Draco panicked…he knew he didn't have any other relations. "An orphanage!?" /And to top it all of a muggle one! AGH!! Where are the wizards!? How come there aren't any here!? Someone at the Ministry must be aware of what's going on!…right? /
"Yes, yes. But first we'll try to contact any relations, and…"
****END FLASHBACK****
Yup…and here he was, at Sunny Ray's Shelter for Orphaned Children. A *muggle* orphanage. He, Draco Malfoy…who would've thought. And it was already past the date he usually received his Hogwarts letter too. If he didn't get the freaking owl soon, he would crack. /Imagine if I have to go to a *muggle* school as well. Just imagine…/
-End Prologue- [[[It's a bit long for a prologue, but hey, I tend to talk a lot, thus I write a lot]]]
Please tell me what you think!! REVIEW! If you have any suggestions or comments, feel free to tell me about them! Thanks…;)