Drum roll please! Now for the world to see I have finally decided to start posting my fanfics, and this is the first one so far. I'm warning those of you who do not like slash that this story contains slash (i.e.: homosexual relationships) and rather than flame me incessantly, you would be better off not reading if you find slash offensive. Also, this is and AU story (alternate universe) so not everything is as it is in the books. I've decided to start it in the beginning of Harry's fifth year, disregarding the events of OotP. Now I hope you all like this, and please review. Also, keep in mind that I am in need of a beta reader, and anyone is welcome.
And for all you lawyers out there: All Harry Potter characters and ideas belong to the great J.K. Rowling and I am in no way trying to claim her ideas as my own. I have created this story and used her characters and situations simply for my own overactive imagination to have something to do, and for the enjoyment of other overactive imaginations. I do not intend to make any kind of profit from this story.
Chapter 1
The freezing cold wind ripped across the deck of the magic ship, filling the ice white sails, tearing through cloak and fur, leaving behind icy breath, wind burned cheeks, and frozen bones. Draco Malfoy stood stock still at the prow of the vessel, ignoring the cold, not a single shiver moving his tall, lean frame. His icy gray eyes gazed out over the cold waters out to the distant horizon, their stormy depths a thousand times colder than the terrible wind that sent the rest of the passengers down into the warmer bowels of the ship.
For the past four years of his life, Draco had been going to school at Durmstrang, due to his father's connections with the headmaster, Igor Karkaroff. But since Karkaroff's recent disappearance after the Tri-Wizard tournament and the return of the Dark Lord, his father saw no point in Draco continuing his education there, as he had gone there solely for the special tutelage Karkaroff allowed him. So now, he would return home for the summer, and when the school term began again, he would continue his education at Hogwarts, in England.
Draco finally allowed a slight shiver to course through his body, not from the cold outside, but from the ice within. The cold, frozen feeling that meant he was going home.
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Platform nine and three quarters was buzzing with Hogwarts students and their parents. First years said tearful goodbyes to their families as old friends exchanged greetings and tales of the summer's escapades. Halfway down the platform, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger stood out amongst the cloud of red hair that was the Weasley family. Mrs. Weasley was doling out last minute goodbyes and advice as the train whistle blew.
"Now Fred, George, do try not to get yourselves into trouble again. If I hear one word about Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, I'll - "
"Now mother dear, what would make you think we would do anything of the sort?" Fred cut in, grinning at his mother.
Mrs. Weasley frowned at the twins, but was forced to cut herself off as the train whistle blew again. "Now all of you, go get on the train before it leaves you behind. Ginny, Hermione, have fun dears. You too, Ron. And Harry, do be careful," she said as he shepherded them all onto the train.
Draco Malfoy sneered as he watched the mostly red headed crowd retreat toward the train. Red hair, shabby clothes, and lots of children: If those weren't the Weasleys then he was a house elf. He didn't recognize the girl with the bushy brown hair, but there was someone else in that crowd that interested him far more. His eyes followed the thin boy with the messy black hair and glasses as he trailed the Weasleys onto the train. That woman had called him Harry, he was positive about that. Harry, with muggle clothes too big for his thin body, soot black hair that was horribly shaggy, and a pair of round glasses that he constantly had to shove back into place with one finger. Could this be the Boy Who Lived? The famous Harry Potter who had almost destroyed the Dark Lord before he could utter his first word? Draco scoffed in disdain as he followed the pathetic "hero" onto the train.
As he climbed onto the train, Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck lift up, as if something was boring into the back of his head. On instinct he turned around, just in time to catch an unfamiliar face glaring back at him. The boy was tall, with silver blonde hair, a sneer fixed on a face with sharp, pointed features. He was too old to be a first year, but Harry had never seen him before. The stranger didn't seem to notice Harry looking back at him, as if he were deep in thought. Feeling slightly unsettled, Harry turned back around and followed Hermione onto the train, looking for an empty compartment.
When they had finally found a compartment near the end of the train, stowed their bags away, and sat down in their seats, Harry decided to mention the strange boy he had seen while boarding the train. "Ron, Hermione, did you notice anyone unusual while we were getting on the train?"
Ron gave Harry a curious look at the same time Hermione said, "No Harry, why? Did you see something?"
"Well, yeah, sort of," Harry said, "When we were getting on the train, I felt like there was someone watching me. When I turned around I saw this boy, he looked to be our age; I'm positive I have never seen before. He was staring right at me, in fact he was glaring at me, but he didn't notice me turn around."
"Exchange student?" Ron guessed.
"Maybe," Hermione said, crossing her arms on her chest thoughtfully, "But then why was he glaring at you, Harry? What did he look like?"
"He was tall, and he wore wizard clothes. They looked really expensive too. He was blonde, and he didn't exactly look happy to see me," Harry said, the image of the strange boy floating in his mind.
Just then, the door to their compartment slid open. In the doorway stood the exact same boy that Harry had seen on the platform. Close up Harry could see the proud set of the boy's shoulders, and the cool disdain that radiated from his gray eyes. On his cloak was what seemed to be some sort of family crest. There was a large M entwined with a white snake. The clasps that the boy undid to take off the cloak were worked silver; his hands were covered by black leather gloves, which he removed as well.
"Mind if I sit with you?" he said in a voice that would have been polite, if it weren't for the haughty drawl that accompanied it. Ron, who for some odd reason had turned a rather unbecoming shade of crimson, spluttered incoherently as the stranger sat down without waiting for an answer. He laid his cloak neatly across his lap, and took his time folding his gloves. Underneath the cloak, he wore a green silk shirt so dark it was almost black. When he was finally finished, his cold gray eyes locked on Harry's, and Harry suddenly felt a chill settle in his stomach. "My name is Draco Malfoy. And you are Harry Potter," he said.
"Yeah he is, and what is that to you? You – you, MALFOY!" Ron burst out, "Get tired of studying the darks arts with your father, eh Malfoy? Is that why you've suddenly decided to show up at Hogwarts? Or did someone else send you here?" Ron glared daggers at the blonde boy.
Draco Malfoy turned his gaze to Ron, the depths of his eyes boiling with a storm just barely held in check, "Didn't your mother ever tell you it was best to think before opening your mouth, Weasley, or was she too busy digging at the dump for food?"
Ron made to grab for Draco's throat, but Hermione put a calming hand on his arm, firmly holding him to his seat. She gave Draco a calculating look, "First impressions last forever . . . Draco. And you are not making a very good one. What are you getting at?" She said.
"I had intended only to meet a few of my peers, as well as to see," he again turned his unsettling eyes to Harry, "who the famous Harry Potter really is. To get a more realistic picture," he kept his eyes locked on Harry's, raising one eyebrow, "but someone here seems intent on preventing me from making a good first impression," his eyes flicked towards Ron. "Now, perhaps I should start again. My name is Draco, and yours is Harry," he stuck out his right hand, and shook Harry's. Then he turned to Ron, "I didn't catch your first name, you are . . ."
"Ron, my name is Ron Weasley," said Ron, glowering at Draco daring him to try to shake his hand. Draco didn't.
He turned to Hermione, who again seemed to be trying to read him as if he were a library book, "I'm Hermione Granger," she said, holding out her hand.
Draco gently shook it, and the train compartment filled with an awkward silence.
A few moments later, Hermione spoke up, "So why are you here, Draco? Why start at Hogwarts in your fifth year?"
"Only that my father decided it would be better for me to finish my education at Hogwarts, since the recent trouble with Durmstrang's headmaster.
Ron muttered something incoherent that the others chose to ignore.
"You were at Durmstrang before?" Harry said
"Oh yes, my father believed the exchange experience would do me some good, but reconsidered."
"So why didn't you come to the Tri-Wizard Tournament?" Harry asked.
"I was of course, too young," he raised an eyebrow at Harry, "and so watched the tournament from our school. Your headmaster was kind enough to set up a spell to let us cheer our players from there. I saw it all, Harry, I wouldn't have missed it for the world," he replied.
Harry turned slightly pink as he mentally scolded himself for asking such a stupid question.
"I also must say, Harry, that from what I have seen you are a remarkable flier. I should like to play against you one day, one on one," Draco's cold eyes lit up with a challenge.
It was Harry's turn to raise an eyebrow, "Perhaps we will, Draco."
The rest of the ride was spent in an awkward exchange of words, Draco filled with his ever-present confidence, Ron spending the whole time grumbling and muttering to himself, and Hermione remaining unusually quiet as she studied the blonde boy. As he spoke, Harry felt as if he were feeling his way blindly in the dark, unable to tell exactly where he was with Draco, and afraid to stumble into anything unpleasant. Draco remained incredibly formal; his face blank of expression except for those eyes, colder than Harry had ever believed was humanly possible. As the train neared the end of its journey, Hermione left the compartment and the boys changed into their school robes, watching the lights of Hogsmeade speed toward the train in the dark.
When they were done, the train started to slow down, Hermione reappeared in her robes. The tiny compartment was now filled with four black clad figures, Ron's red and Draco's silver blonde hair standing out against the stark black of their Hogwarts uniforms. Taking another look at Draco, Harry could see that his robes were made of a much finer fabric than theirs, but cut and fashioned exactly the same. Whoever this Draco was, money was not a problem for him.
Soon the train stopped, and students began to file out onto the platform. From near the end came a deep booming voice shouting, "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! This way! Move along!" Hagrid's head and shoulders moved above the growing crowd of first years around him as he called across the platform.
Smiling, Harry waved and shouted, "Hi Hagrid!"
Hagrid turned and his bearded face wrinkled into a warm smile, "Hi, Harry! How are you?" He replied. Then he noticed Draco standing with Harry and his friends. The smile suddenly lost some of its warmth, "This way Mister Malfoy!" he addressed Draco, "You hafta be sorted with the firs' years!" he called to him.
Draco grimaced as he strode away without a word, heading toward the other end of the platform and Hagrid. Harry, Hermione, and Ron watched his retreating back with something akin to confusion on all of their faces. As they settled themselves inside one of the waiting carriages, Ron finally could not contain himself any more.
"That Draco Malfoy gives me the creeps, Harry. As if being a Malfoy wasn't bad enough, he has those creepy eyes. I've never seen anyone with eyes that," he shivered "cold, before. Malfoy is a bad egg, Harry, and I don't think you should talk to him. He's probably into the dark arts like the rest of his family. That's probably why he left Durmstrang after Karkaroff disappeared, because there wasn't anyone to teach him that stuff there anymore."
"Ron, just because someone has creepy eyes does not mean he's into the dark arts," Harry replied.
"But Harry! He's a MALFOY! His family has been into the darks arts since the dawn of time, every last one of them. His father was one of You Know Who's top minions, but they never could pin it on him because he's got half the Ministry under his thumb! Draco is a Malfoy, it's in his blood to be evil!"
"Innocent until proven guilty, Ron," said Hermione, breaking her silence, "But I do think we should be careful with him."
The rest of the ride to the front steps of the schol was filled with an awkward silence as the occupants of the carriage pondered the nature of the strange new student.
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Tada! And so the story begins. Tune in later for continuing episodes. And yes, Draco is definitely and purposefully oc, but who knows what experiences he could have had at Durmstrang…
Credits: Inspiration for the story came from the poem Freezing Point by Khirsah
PS: Please do review, and anyone who wants to be my beta, let me know. Also, anyone who is interested in drawing illustrations to go with the story, please contact me.