Draco Malfoy and the Sorcerer's Stone: Chapter 1

From the time that Draco Malfoy was a young boy, he knew he was destined to be great, or at least that's what he has been told. He couldn't know for sure, seeing as he spent most of his time with his Mother and Father, cooped up in the massive and aptly named, Malfoy Manor. He had been raised alone, with no siblings, and since his father was always at the Ministry of Magic for work, it was often just him and his mother. Now Draco was not neglected now was he? He got everything he wanted.

He was a brat and everyone that had met him in his short life knew it. All the children his mother had allowed him to play with growing up had been over a few times, and had enjoyed playing with Draco's abundance of toys, but they had never enjoyed Draco's company.

Now of course, Draco was wealthy, absurdly so, but he didn't have what he wanted most of all: Freedom. He rarely got to leave his home, and when he did it was always to muggle places like Diagon Alley, and other places thriving wizard life. That is not to say he never got to go anywhere fun or exciting, and he did. Once, every year on his birthday, his mother would take him to another country to experience the culture there. His favorite so far had been France, the rich, decadent food had been a new experience to him, who had grown up eating the food that his house elves had been prepared for.

"Draco" called his mother from the parlor

"Yes Mother?" He called back

"It's almost time to go to Diagon Alley, are you ready?"

"Yes I am"

Draco entered the parlor, coat in his hands. He quickly picked up a handful of floo and threw it into the waiting fireplace, excited to be in a new environment. As soon as he stepped into the emerald green flames, the immediate yet familiar and uncomfortable feeling of traveling many miles in a short space of time overtook him. It was a great pressure, squeezing in on all sides.

"Oomph" he grunted, spilling out of the fireplace ungracefully onto the tattered rug of Borgin and Burkes. He stood up and looked around the store. It was dark and musty, everything seemed to be covered in a layer of dust, and the smell of mothballs was everywhere.

"Hello Master Malfoy" Murmured the Owner, Mr. Borgin from behind the desk. He was an older man, probably in his later 80's and looked about as filthy as the store did.

Draco said nothing, but nodded his head on Borgins direction and waited for his Mother to come through. Where is she he wondered. No sooner than he had finished his thought she came gracefully strutting out of the fireplace.

They walked out of the store and out of the filthy side alley, Knockturn Alley, and into the bright, good natured Diagon Alley, There were people everywhere, going in and out of the different stores, collecting things that they needed.

The first place that the two Malfoys went was Gringotts, the wizarding bank. As they walked into the busy main hall, the goblins that worked there looked up, and when they saw who graced their presence, bowed respectfully towards the ancient pureblood family.

After collecting the money that they would need for Draco's school supplies, they headed to the first store, Flourish and Blott's, the bookstore where Draco could purchase any book he could ever imagine.

"What can I help you with?" Panted the obviously exhausted owner. Despite his exhaustion, he still look happy to help them.

"We need: The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, A History of Magic, Magical Theory, A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, Magical Drafts and Potions, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, and The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protection" ordered Mrs. Malfoy

"Of course, a first year" winked the owner "I'll be back momentarily"

The next store that they headed into was Madam Malkin's, who supplied most of the english wizarding population with robes. As he was being fitted for his first set of Hogwarts robes, the door opened again, and in walked a rather short, scrawny boy, obviously around the same age as Draco.

"Hello" said Draco "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes" the boy responded

"I get to go look at racing brooms next. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow" said Draco, with an air of aristocracy that suited him well. "Have you got your own broom?" He asked the boy

"No" he responded. Quiet, this one, thought Draco.

"I do- father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet" Draco asked curiously.

"No" said the boy again.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all of our family have been - imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" He asked with a sneer drawing across his sharp features.

The boy just grunted. Draco finally took notice of his indifference and left the boy to his fitting, as his was finished anyway.

As the day progressed, the gathered up all the supplies a first year at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry could ever need. The most exciting part of the day for Draco had been selecting his first wand (Or rather, letting the wand choose him, as Mr. Ollivander had said). It was a beautiful, 10-inch long Hawthorn wand with a Unicorn hair for a core.

By the time the Malfoys returned home and had been served dinner by their house elves, Draco was thoroughly exhausted, and excited for September 1st, or rather, the day he would be leaving for Hogwarts, the place he had waited 11 years for.