The Night We Met
Harry Potter
I own nothing. JKR, Scholastic, and WB owns everything. This was made for entertainment, not profit.
Focusing on Draco Malfoy during certain events throughout the years. I've taken some liberties with the event. At first, I tried an EWE approach for Dramione but as the ink flowed through my pen to paper, this came about. It has been a decade or so since I last wrote for the HP fandom, I've only always read. It has been a while since I last read the books or watched the movies, neither do I have a beta, so pardon me for the mistakes I've likely made.
~ First Year ~
"Has anyone of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville lost his pet." A confident voice greeted the occupants of the train compartment.
Three young boys looked up at the intrusion, two of which were busy stuffing their faces with sweets. The third boy, blonde hair slicked back, answered in the negative. Crestfallen, the bright-eyed young girl moved to close the door when the blonde boy spoke up, "Hey, what's your name?"
"Hermione Jean Granger, first year," she smiled as she extended her hand to him.
"Draco Lucius Malfoy, you may have heard of me. These here are Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle," he gestured to his companions as they gave a small nod of acknowledgement.
"Pleasure to meet you all, I'll see you later." The girl bade them good bye and left.
Draco Malfoy smiled as the young witch left then settled back on his seat.
"Granger, Hermione" was announced by the stern-faced witch. Draco's head shot up as he watched the young girl took a deep breath then confidently strode towards the stool and the Sorting Hat was placed above her head.
It took a couple of minutes as it seemed the young witch was having a fiercely whispered conversation with the magical artifact. Finally, "Gryffindor!" was announced and she beamed brightly as she made her way towards her house table. The young blonde pouted for a short while and thought to himself how much of waste for someone interesting to be sorted to the lions' den.
His name was called then, the Hat debated whether to place him in Ravenclaw or Slytherin. "Malfoys are always in Salazar Slytherin's house. It will be quite an embarrassment if you placed me anywhere else," he argued with the Sorting Hat. Noting his preference, "Slytherin!" was declared and he was met with thunderous applause from the snakes. Grinning, his eyes swept the hall and connected with the brown eyes of the girl. The Malfoy Heir smirked as he made his way to his house table.
~ Second Year ~
It was the summer before his second year.
As his mother was enjoying a holiday with the Ladies Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle, he found himself in Diagon Alley with his father. Searching the stacks for his required books, Draco Malfoy collided with the Muggle-born swot. A slight nod was his acknowledgement of her presence, he then ignored her in favor of continuing the search for his books.
A little while later, he found himself face -to-face with the female Gryffindor. Only this time, she was accompanied by Potter and himself by his father. The young blonde was watching with cautious curiosity as his father conversed with The Boy Who Lived.
"His name is Voldemort," Potter's green eyes alit with defiance.
"You must be very brave, Mr. Potter, to dare speak his name. Or foolish." Lucius Malfoy glared at the black-haired wizard.
Draco was taken aback when Granger spoke up while fearlessly meeting the elder Malfoy's glare.
"Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself."
The younger Malfoy opened his mouth to address the defiant witch, but his father beat him to it.
Addressing the brunette with unveiled disgust and a sneer, "You must be Miss Granger. Draco's told me all about you… and your parents. Muggles, are they not?"
Granger was readying to reply when she was dismissed, "Come along, Draco, we do not wish to linger in this infested establishment." Lucius Malfoy turned on his heel and briskly walked away. Draco, following his father's example, turned up his nose and left.
"Enemies of the Heir, Beware! You'll be next mudblood!"
The Malfoy Heir kept hearing his proclamation in his head as he stared at the petrified Hermione Granger. He did not believe the rumors at first, so a few hours after curfew, he found himself sneaking out of the dungeons and into the hospital wing. The small mirror found on her person was placed atop the bedside table.
The young blonde heaved a sigh as he noticed that the small slip of parchment was nowhere to be found. He can only hope that the remaining duo got a hold of it instead of Madame Pomfrey or any of the professors. It will be a long and boring school year now that the Gryffindor swot won't be there to receive his taunts and jibes. On the bright side, he may finally be the top of their class this year.
~ Third Year ~
Draco Malfoy decided that today may be the worst day of his short thirteen years of life. The ghastly beast attacked him while the worthless half-giant stared at him helplessly as he writhed in pain. He heard the annoying mudblood shouting for the half-breed to take his person to the hospital wing as she fretted over him.
The blonde teen sent a mental thank you for her presence of mind. Suddenly, he was being lifted on the beefy arms of the half-giant professor. He was still in agony when he heard the genuine concern in her inquiry, "Will he be okay?" It went unanswered but instead she received reassurance that the school's medi-witch will see to his injury.
The young wizard was halfway to unconsciousness when he imagined the Gryffindor swot by his bedside. He decided that his mind was addled by the pain-relief potion he ingested less than an hour ago when he thought Granger wished for his swift recovery. Slipping fully into unconsciousness, he dreamt of brown eyes and bushy-haired know-it-alls.
"That crazy, little mudblood! How dare she lay her filthy hands on you!" Pansy Parkinson was shouting indignantly as she fussed over the Slytherin Prince.
Draco, uncaring for the pug-faced witch, was lost in his own thought. He was undecided whether he wants to maim the feisty mudblood or if he should be terrified of her or if he ought to be impressed by her audacity. No one has ever had the gall to stand up to him aside from Granger, Potter, and the Weasley siblings. But not even The Boy Who Lived dared to raise a hand against him. Though his cheek was still smarting, Draco Malfoy decided that for this little stunt, he'll certainly increase his efforts in taunting the Gryffindorks and getting them detention.
~ Fourth Year ~
Draco Malfoy was disgruntled, not just unhappy. He was awfully put out that his parents forced him to take Pansy Parkinson to the Yule Ball. Her pedigree was impeccable, that was true, but the Parkinson chit was still incredibly vain, vapid, and annoying. You'd think that with the Parkinsons' immaculate blood status, they'd produce a beautiful and perfect Pureblood heiress. But, no, they were saddled with the pug-faced bint. Nevertheless, he was incredibly frustrated with his parents and his unfortunate luck.
Never mind that he wanted to ask the part-Veela champion of Beauxbatons, or at the very least the younger sister. No, his parents insisted he take Parkinson to the ball. Lucius Malfoy was closing a business merger with the Parkinsons and as heir to the Malfoy fortunes, he was expected to perform his duties. The young wizard was expected to play his part, buttering up the heiress and convincing her that the merger will be in their best interest.
Well, he'll ensure that Pansy would be extremely grateful that he even spared her a glance. He expects she'll be so grateful that he'll have her on her knees willing to do anything for him. Maybe, if he's lucky, Daphne Greengrass will join her friend in pleasuring him. His imagination strayed into dangerous territory with the idea of both girls playing with him.
The Malfoy Heir was jarred out of his thoughts by the collective gasp of his Slytherin cronies. Looking up, he was rendered speechless. On the arm of Durmstrang's champion was the one and only Hermione Granger. Bushy hair tamed, mesmerizing eyes lined with kohl and mascara, pink full lips, elegantly draped in a soft periwinkle gown, with a pretty blush and a beguiling smile. The Gryffindor was magnificent. Beautiful, captivating, enchanting, alluring. These were the adjectives that came to his mind as he watched her dance with the international Quidditch star.
For the remainder of the night, Draco Malfoy was seething while Hermione Granger was laughed heartily and enjoyed the evening with the Bulgarian seeker. At the closing of the festivities, he forgot about his fantasies with Pansy and Daphne as he sulked back to his room in the dungeons.
~ Fifth Year ~
"The pink toad should really finish this up," he thought sourly as he restrained Longbottom. Honestly, being part of the Inquisitorial Squad was another decision forced onto him by his parents. Sure, he was proud of the responsibilities and privileges, and it gave him the satisfaction of besting the favored Potter, but it was still extremely late and all he wants now is to go back to the dungeons and surround himself with his soft bed and pillows and drift off to sleep.
He must admit that he was impressed. Amazing Saint Potter and The Gang managed to figure out a was to circumvent the useless 5th year curriculum of D.A.D.A. this pink menace from the Ministry forced onto them. Aside from that, the Edgecombe girl had been hexed and her face disfigured. Consequences of ratting out the group, apparently. Another remarkable feat was that the DA, as they call themselves, had a charmed galleon for each member that they use to communicate short missives.
Draco Malfoy cast a surreptitious glance to the swot currently restrained by Goyle. He just knew that all these safety mechanisms and precautions were her ideas. After all, she was always the brains of the operations The Boy Who Lived lead. Potter's crusade for the proper Defense Against the Dark Arts and his topics for lecture was more than likely a product of Granger's research. Maybe he could get the secret behind the charmed galleons when they interrogate the mudblood. If he can apply it to something bigger than galleons, his father can utilize it in the family businesses.
~Sixth Year ~
Draco Malfoy was drowning.
No matter the outcome of his task, he was a dead man. If he succeeds in killing Dumbledore, the order with hunt him down. If he fails, his life is forfeit either by his deranged aunt, Greyback, Nagini, or the Dark Lord himself. Really, he was a dead man walking. The only reason he soldiered on was his mother. As long as he did as he was told, his mother will stay alive and relatively unharmed.
Before the beginning of the school year, the Malfoy Heir was incensed with Potter and friends. It was their fault his father was locked away in Azkaban. When the Dark Lord offered him the opportunity to redeem his family name, he was proud to take the Dark Mark. If only he knew then what he knows now. As they say, hindsight is 20/20.
He dares not talk to his Slytherin cronies. A single wrong breath and they'll go running to their parents, Death Eaters and sympathizers. The only ones he did associate with were Crabbe and Goyle, and it was mostly because they were thick in the head and he needed guards posted outside the room of lost things.
He rarely finds himself in the Great Hall and even if he sits for meals, he can only stomach a couple of bites. The young blonde wizard skips a majority of his classes and coerces others to do his assigned work. On the off chance that he does attend, the Malfoy Heir is often found snoozing at his desk.
Advanced Potions, despite no longer being taught by Severus Snape, was still his favorite subject. Therefore, he was present on the day that Slughorn uncovered the cauldron containing Amortentia. The Mother-of-Pearl sheen with the spiraling steam was enticing him with the scent of books, parchment and ink, and apples.
Granger, being the know-it-all that she was, volunteered the answer to the question posed by the old professor, "Freshly-mown grass, new parchment, and…"
The Gryffindor hesitated as old Slughorn prompted her, "Yes, Miss Granger?"
Draco Malfoy took a step closer, unnoticed by all, as he stared intently at the Muggle-born witch.
She took a step back as she shook her head, refusing to speak more. Professor Slughorn, taking notice of her discomfort, proceeded with the day's topic. As he stepped back, his eyes met the burning gaze of the Gryffindor swot. Their gazes locked together until Potter asked for her help and Nott called his attention to the cauldron on their shared desk.
~ Seventh Year ~
He was home for the Easter holidays.
Though Hogwarts now had Severus Snape as Headmaster with the Carrows on board as professors, Draco still felt significantly safer within the castle walls. Malfoy Manor, a former bastion of blood purity and home to generations of untainted blood lines, was now nothing but a mere structure. His childhood home, once a point of pride for him, now served as the headquarters of the Dark Lord. It was dark, threatening, and suffocating whereas before it was elegance and opulence.
This school year had been less than stellar. The Golden Trio did not return for their final year in Hogwarts. The Carrows were forcing them to cast unforgiveables on each other. There were less students in attendance this year. Not to mention, the murder he witnessed at the end of summer. Professor Burbage, who taught Muggle Studies was tortured and raped in front of him. The vile snake made a spectacle of his professor as he had Nagini consume her at the dining room of the Manor. He is haunted by the helpless plea, "Severus, please", slightly relieved that the woman did not look at him instead. It was not a good year indeed.
The Malfoy Heir was contemplating his life choices when he was summoned from his bedroom, his only remaining sanctuary at the Manor. Here is where he pretended not to exist and tried to be as small and inconspicuous as possible. Steeling himself, he brought up his Occlumency shields as he exited his room.
"No…" the horrified thought almost escaped his mouth as he arrived at the drawing room.
Granger, Weasley, and a slightly unrecognizable Potter was brought to the Manor by Greyback and other snatchers. Of course, he knew who the third person was. No one else could be with Granger and Weasley. His deranged aunt and terrified parents were forcing him to confirm their identities, to condemn them to their deaths and the wizarding world into eternal chaos.
He couldn't do it. He wouldn't do it. Still, he was afraid. He reluctantly told them that he couldn't be sure. Lucius grabbed his head and forced him to look closer, pleading that he win back the Dark Lord's favor by delivering Potter.
"What about her, my son? She looks like the mudblood we met in Madame Malkin's shop," Narcissa Malfoy was asking her son to condemn a classmate to death. He was dragged to face the thinner and bedraggled witch. Draco tried to convene his apologies to Granger by his eyes as he hesitated, "I-I can't be sure… Maybe."
It was at this moment that one of the snatchers brought out the sword, and Bellatrix Lestrange lost her remaining sanity.
"You filthy, little mudblood!" the eldest Black sister shrieked and demanded that the boys be chained down at the dungeons as she dragged the young witch by her hair.
If Draco thought the hippogriff incident was the worst day of his life, he was gravely mistaken. Watching the Muggle-born witch be tortured and carved by his mad, crazy and angry mad, aunt was worse. It was painful and heartbreaking. At the same time, he was amazed by her resilience that she did not lose consciousness with the innumerable crucios sent her way and the blood she lost from her arm being carved with the disgusting slur.
When their old house elf, Dobby, managed to assist the trio with their escape, Draco Malfoy could not be more grateful and relieved. His relief, however, was short-lived as he and his parents were subjected to the madness of his aunt and fury of the Dark Lord.
They found Potter and his friends in the Room of Requirement, in the Room of Lost Things. The Malfoy Heir cursed his luck. The one time he brought Crabbe and Goyle inside, was the one time he didn't need nor want the Golden Trio in the same room. His two body guards mistakenly assumed that they could take on the Brightest Witch of Her Age. An Avada was sent her way, his heart stopped for a moment and then went into overdrive. A powerful shield charm repelled the curse and he found himself able to breathe.
Then, Vincent Crabbe, the arrogant idiot decided to unleash Fiendfyre. His inexperience with the powerful spell was glaringly obvious in the git's failure to control and direct the fire. In a mad rush to escape, the Slytherins decided to climb the stacked furniture. Draco Malfoy sent out a silent prayer asking for forgiveness as he believed his death to be imminent.
Lo and behold, Amazing Saint Potter and friends managed to save him and Goyle. Crabbe, however, was not as fortunate as them and perished in the fire. Karma's a bitch, and karma has decided to claim Vincent's life for its own.
After the battle was won, when the dust settled, and the lost were mourned, Draco Lucius Malfoy sighed a breath of relief. He found it ironic that the crazed, power-hungry Dark Lord died like a common man. Despite all his pomp and pretentiousness when he was alive, he was but a man in death, crumbling to his knees. No fan flair, no explosion, nothing. He fell down and stopped breathing.
Tom Marvolo Riddle was dead. The remaining Death Eaters were being rounded up by aurors and members of the Order of the Phoenix. The Dark Lord was gone and the Boy Who Lived, lived again.
~ Nineteen Years Later ~
All was well.
The Malfoy family made their way to Platform 9 ¾ of King's Cross Station. Draco Malfoy, married to Astoria Greengass, labored and slaved away to extricate the name from the mud it was dragged in. The blonde wizard worked with Kingsley Shacklebolt and the Ministry of Magic in putting the wizarding world to rights. He assisted Harry Potter and the aurors in gathering information to apprehend the Death Eaters and sympathizers. With his wife, he hosted auction events and made thousands of galleons in donation to orphanages and other charity drives.
It was slow, getting the Malfoy name back up to snuff, but it was worth it. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was never ostracized growing up. He only prayed to Merlin and Morgana that his son will find lifelong friends in Hogwarts. Somehow, having Astoria by his side, Draco was sure that he made a good father to Scorpius and was confident that his son will not make the same mistakes he did.
As his wife was bidding their son good bye, his eyes found Hermione Granger-Weasley's. She was well on her way to becoming the first female and Muggle-born Minister of Magic. They shared a smile and Draco was taken back to the night they met on the Hogwarts Express. The sun had set and they were still an hour away from Hogsmeade when the feisty and confident witch opened the door of his train compartment. Though he loved his family, he wondered if all those years ago, he could have had a chance with the brave and intelligent woman. They broke eye contact and he dropped down to talk to his son.
Indeed, all was well.
A/N: I have not been able to see nor read Cursed Child therefore, I am not confident in including that part in this story. I'd have loved to spin this into a Dramione wherein they'll be together but this is what came to me as I wrote. Though I adore Dramione and they are my HP OTP, the epilogue was also wonderful. Maybe someday I'll write a proper Dramione fic, but for now... This is what I have. I hope you enjoy!