Disclaimer:I do not own any of J.K's charactors, sadly, or hogwarts. Not evan my own magic wand. I do, however, own the plot, and possibly my shoes. For those of you who don't know, this is a fic about if Harry had chosen to be in Slytherinn instead of Gryfendor.
Welcome To My World Part 1 Draco Malfoy stared with diseit at the Boy who Lived. The boy who lived to haunt him. The boy who lived to make him suffer. He was at the other end of the table.
The other end of the table started where Draco ended.
How had he come to be such a cast-off? How was that he clung to the edge of the table for dear life while Harry tried to fight off hoards of admirers?? So what if he had bloody survived the wrath of voldemort! He was famous just for existing. It didn't seam fair. He'd done nothing. Not like he'd haulted the Dark lords progress. If he had, perhaps they would be allowed to visit hogsmeade without Dumbledore herding them like sheep!
But Harry had done nothing but gloat in his glorious birthright.
He'd used some of his earnings to by himself a custome robe, to set himself apart. All his school robes were emrald green and cast with an illusion to look like a multitude of wreathing snakes. They brought out the green in Harry's eyes, made him look almost handsome. Draco leered. On the plus side, Harry's hair could never be tamed. Not like Draco's, which hung undecided between gold and silver, the exact shade of pyrite, of fools gold. And his eyes were like aqua marine-glittering, endless,and seering. Draco's features were strong and attractive. He was tall, but just tall enough.
He should have been the king of Slytherinn, the cool, hard power behind the snake. The rising wave of power and energy, foaming with anger for those who defied him.
What was Harry doing being King of Slytherinn, the house of the dark lord? It made no sense. It never had.
Harry looked in Draco's direction. Draco gave him a cool smile. He may have been an outcast, but he wasn't looked down u pon. He was solitary,avoided. But everyone knew without speaking, felt without realizeing, that there was something about Draco. He was quiet, cool and illusive as freazing water from a ground spring. He was different from them. There should have been a fifth house, the house of the dragon, the house were Draco and his kind belonged.
Except there were no others like like him.
"Could you pass the bread?" Harry asked, all mock politeness and arragant toss of his head.
Draco cocked a brow but didn't speak. He fingured his wand under the table and whispered the word:"locomonortheteast".
The bread flew from the baskete, whisked over astonished heads and noses, and promptly whacked Harry in the head. Disgruntled and seething, Harry plucked the bread from the air. Draco's smile was cold and testing. And guenuine.
"and the butter." Harry's voice quavered with indignation.
"I don't think you really want to do that."Draco said with a yawn.
"Really?"Harry's gaze was challenging.
"Really." Harry sighed. "It's not that hard. just lift your hand and wrap your fingures around the edge of the butter tray. Then lift your arm and move it in my derection." The butter splatted against Harrys face.
Harry clucked his tung.
Draco leaned back in satisfaction.
Then he lifted his own hunk of fluffy white french bougette, smeared with just enough white butter. He closed his eyes and took a huge mouthfull, savoring the delicoussomething that only Hogwarts food could ever have.
Welcome To My World Part 1 Draco Malfoy stared with diseit at the Boy who Lived. The boy who lived to haunt him. The boy who lived to make him suffer. He was at the other end of the table.
The other end of the table started where Draco ended.
How had he come to be such a cast-off? How was that he clung to the edge of the table for dear life while Harry tried to fight off hoards of admirers?? So what if he had bloody survived the wrath of voldemort! He was famous just for existing. It didn't seam fair. He'd done nothing. Not like he'd haulted the Dark lords progress. If he had, perhaps they would be allowed to visit hogsmeade without Dumbledore herding them like sheep!
But Harry had done nothing but gloat in his glorious birthright.
He'd used some of his earnings to by himself a custome robe, to set himself apart. All his school robes were emrald green and cast with an illusion to look like a multitude of wreathing snakes. They brought out the green in Harry's eyes, made him look almost handsome. Draco leered. On the plus side, Harry's hair could never be tamed. Not like Draco's, which hung undecided between gold and silver, the exact shade of pyrite, of fools gold. And his eyes were like aqua marine-glittering, endless,and seering. Draco's features were strong and attractive. He was tall, but just tall enough.
He should have been the king of Slytherinn, the cool, hard power behind the snake. The rising wave of power and energy, foaming with anger for those who defied him.
What was Harry doing being King of Slytherinn, the house of the dark lord? It made no sense. It never had.
Harry looked in Draco's direction. Draco gave him a cool smile. He may have been an outcast, but he wasn't looked down u pon. He was solitary,avoided. But everyone knew without speaking, felt without realizeing, that there was something about Draco. He was quiet, cool and illusive as freazing water from a ground spring. He was different from them. There should have been a fifth house, the house of the dragon, the house were Draco and his kind belonged.
Except there were no others like like him.
"Could you pass the bread?" Harry asked, all mock politeness and arragant toss of his head.
Draco cocked a brow but didn't speak. He fingured his wand under the table and whispered the word:"locomonortheteast".
The bread flew from the baskete, whisked over astonished heads and noses, and promptly whacked Harry in the head. Disgruntled and seething, Harry plucked the bread from the air. Draco's smile was cold and testing. And guenuine.
"and the butter." Harry's voice quavered with indignation.
"I don't think you really want to do that."Draco said with a yawn.
"Really?"Harry's gaze was challenging.
"Really." Harry sighed. "It's not that hard. just lift your hand and wrap your fingures around the edge of the butter tray. Then lift your arm and move it in my derection." The butter splatted against Harrys face.
Harry clucked his tung.
Draco leaned back in satisfaction.
Then he lifted his own hunk of fluffy white french bougette, smeared with just enough white butter. He closed his eyes and took a huge mouthfull, savoring the delicoussomething that only Hogwarts food could ever have.