Author's note: This is my first fic and I hope you like it. Feel free to review and you can send flames if you must, but please make them as constructive as possible.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other characters, places, and events that the lovely J. K. Rowling has entertained us with.
Chapter One: Heads of Hogwarts
"Hermione, dear, you need to wake up," said a very disgruntled Mrs. Granger, "Hermione, we are going to Diagon Alley to get your school things today!"
Mrs. Granger sighed and ran her fingers through her short brown hair and picked up the glass of water her daughter always took to bed. Suddenly a cunning smirk spread across her face; she had an idea and planned to use it. Turning back to her still slumbering daughter, she dowsed the girl with her own water to get the desired effect.
Hermione sputtered and rolled over. "Whassa matter?" she asked bleary eyed and dripping. Lazy morning lids hid her amber eyes.
"Hermione Berit Granger, how late did you stay up last night and what were you doing?" questioned a now exasperated but smirking Mrs. Granger.
A long yawn cut off any possible explanations from her daughter if there were to be any. The tiredness was short lived because no sooner than the yawn was completed her eyes lit up and sparkled with life.
"We're going to Flourish and Blotts!" squealed the happy bookworm.
"Welcome to the land of the living," her mother muttered rolling her hazel eyes. She left the Hermione's room with a final shake of her head.
'Yes, yes, yes!' she thought as she danced on her bed, 'Tomorrow school starts! Wait a minute! I'm Head Girl!' She nearly fell off the bed at the thought.
"Hermione, are you getting ready to go?" her mother shouted down the hall, "I want to stop at a couple of other places before we get your books."
"Yeah, sure," she shouted back while sliding off the side of her bed.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Grey eyes looked back at him in the mirror. "You look quite smashing, dreary," the mirror complimented.
The self-satisfied smirk broadened. All the rest of the world could do was agree. Young Master Draco's looks that had once mimicked those of his father now surpassed them by far. His mother's beautiful genes had finally come into play for her son.
Finely chiseled cheek bones and a strong chin alone could win a girl's heart, but Draco exceeded even their major standards of handsome. His molten silver eyes that had learnt to hide all emotion gave him a mysterious and dangerous edged. Once slicked back silver blonde hair now hung long and loose around his pale face. Draco had grown over the last couple of years finally reaching an impressive height of 6'4". Many years of quidditch had given him a toned and solid body.
Yes, Malfoy looked good, and he knew it.
"Draco, it's time for your lessons," his father announced from his doorway.
The feared deatheater, Lucius Malfoy, had decided at the age of eight his son was a pathetic excuse of a Malfoy. So now, nine years later, he was still trying to perfect the boy to at least acceptable standards. For the last two years they had began to get tougher, since his father expected the best for Lord Voldemort.
At first, his father had him studying nonstop for years, just to drill in every dark spell or idea that was ever created. Yes, there were moments when he would lash out in anger at his son throwing a couple of well-aimed punches or jinxes at him for failing. But lately, his father was an all out sadist.
He now had-what Lucius called conditioning-random curses thrown at him, which beat the whole 'fully body bind and being left on the floor for hours' to pieces. Lucius even expected him to take it without so much as a wince.
Since Draco had learned all of the curses and potions by heart, Lucius had started throwing questions between curses that had to be answered correctly. If he didn't answer right he had a curse thrown at him; if he did, he still had a curse thrown at him. And so another day at the Manor would continue.
"Yes, father," came his emotionless reply.
While following Lucius to his study he was left to think. 'Please, remind me why I let this conceited bastard walk all over me?' he asked his conscience half-heartedly. 'Because he would harm mother if you didn't,' was its only reply.
Ah, yes, Narcissa Black once a happy and lovely student of Hogwarts had all of that taken away by her arranged marriage to Lucius Malfoy. Now all she had was Draco and was in constant fear of losing him to Lucius's will.
Lucius had no love for the dear woman or their son. They were just his tickets to certain people in the wizarding world. He knew that Draco would do anything for his mother, so he used that against his son. Lucius would torture Narcissa if Draco didn't do as he said, but he knew good and well that if he hit her for any other reasons he would learn of his son's fury through pain.
They arrived at the study, and before Draco could get completely past the fireplace his father hit him.
"Crucio," spat Lucius through gritted teeth. He showed no emotions for using the forbidden curse on his own son, but like many grown men, Draco did not cry out or fall to the floor in pain
Pulling his wand back Lucius looked at his son in disgust. "Beat by the mudblood again! You are such a disgrace to the Malfoy name. How do you expect to ever be of service to our lord if you can't even beat the filth of the school?"
It seemed he was still angry with him for being beaten by the school's know-it-all mudblood, Granger. Heck, Draco didn't really like her either. She always was sticking her nose in things not to be meddled with along with Potter and Weasley. But that wasn't the reason he hated her so, it was because she beat him and caused his mother to be punished for it.
Draco wasn't really aware that his father's wand had been pointed at him again. Again, the searing pain ran through every nerve in his body, but again he did not fall or make a noise.
"Lucius, I believe that is enough for today," came Narcissa's voice from the door. Draco's savior stepped through the door with an elegant stride. Her silver blonde hair cascaded down her back over her bright turquoise evening gown. Her greenish blue eyes held no respect for the man before her.
"Good morning, Mother," said a now smiling Draco. He smiled because she was all he had ever cared for, and she had always cared for him.
Narcissa blessed the cold room with her warm smile. She knew she would pay when Draco left, but she had to protect him.
"Lucius, with your permission I would like to take Draco to Diagon Alley today," she stated while ignoring the cold look of hatred Lucius was giving her.
Lucius's answer was frigid, "I suppose woman." He eyed the now retreating form of his son and continued in a displeased and threatening tone.
"Narcissa, I believe that if you want what is best for dear Draco and yourself, you would stop interfering."
Unfazed by the threat outwardly she turned and headed toward the door, but before exiting she turned to him.
"I believe, Lucius, that the least you could do was congratulate him for becoming Head Boy." With that said Narcissa shut the door in the fuming face of her husband.