Reunited; Chapter One.
Introductions.
Diagon Alley was a curious place. Draco Malfoy had visited once or twice with his parents before receiving his letter for Hogwarts, but during the weeks before term started, it was rather a peculiar place to be. He and his parents walked through the heaving crowd that lined the streets, with a heavy hand of his father's lingering on his shoulder. Draco eyed the black, leather glove sat reassuringly beside his neck, as he was guided through the mass of people. Many of them turned to glance at the trio, and whispered behind hovering hands. The young Malfoy looked away from his father's hand, and noticed a large group of red-heads staring in particular. There were; two tall, lanky boys, completely identical, a small, squat woman stood beside a disheveled looking gentlemen, another female youngster, who seemed to be glaring at Draco and his family the most enthusiastically, and another boy who was conversing to a similar boy with dark, black, messy hair and round glasses. The two younger boys both looked about Draco's age. He felt the guided hand on his shoulder steer towards the cluster of freckle faced, fiery haired people, as they all turned to look in the direction he and his parents were coming from.
"Ah, if it isn't the Weasely family," Draco's father commented, as the eldest red-head smiled awkwardly, "And friend?"
Draco glanced towards the dark haired boy. His glasses were slightly wonky, and his clothes far too big for his deprived looking body. Overall, his shabby attire fitted in quite well with the Weasley's, a name which Draco had just learnt and found great amusement in, if only he had that ridiculously bright hair.
"Yes, Lucius," the man replied, "This is Harry."
The stiff grasp Mr Malfoy had on his son's shoulder tightened noticeably. Draco pretended not to notice, and merely eyed the dark haired wizard with distaste.
"Arthur, you do not mean to tell me this is Harry Potter, do you?" Lucius's voice was rather more hollow and cold.
Being so used to his father's influence of tone, Draco knew that this was not sitting well with his superior. Harry Potter, he thought. Yes, that name definitely rang a bell in the back of his mind.
"Yes, yes," Arthur Weasley stuttered, "This is Harry. Harry Potter. He is a good friend of Ron's."
"Lucius Malfoy," Draco's father announced, holding out his gloved hand towards Harry, "My wife, Narcissa, and my son, Draco."
Momentarily, Harry's emerald eyes shifted to Draco, who gave a hint of a scowl in return. The boy looked back to the awaiting hand lingering in front of him. Harry took the mans hand firmly in his, which Draco noticed to be rather dirty and felt a strong feeling of distaste for the infamous boy before him. As the two were about to break contact, Draco watched as his father roughly pulled the boy forwards, who was now a little startled and wide eyed, and lifted the end of his silver, serpent walking stick to brush aside a dark strand of hair that covered the boy's forehead. Instantly, Draco knew who this boy was. The lightning shaped scar on the left side of his head ignited a memory in the blonde's brain. Oh yes, he thought, Harry Potter. The 'boy-who-lived'. It was all Draco had heard about the past couple of months. Rumour that Harry would be attending Hogwarts had ignited some sort of panic in his parent's minds. He wasn't quite sure why, but went along with the sense of despise they had for him.
"Well, if it isn't the boy who lived," Draco heard his father murmur.
He glanced at him, and noticed his mother whispering quietly in his ear. The two looked apprehensively at Harry, and then his father released the grip he had on the boys hand. Draco noticed Harry's eyes flicker to him, as his father regained his grip on his sons shoulder and dismissed the Weasleys and co. With his best scowl, Draco glared at Harry, and each of the red-heads in turn, before turning, and continuing down the cobbled paths of Diagon Alley. They had taken no more than four steps, before Draco felt his father lean down to his height, and whisper from behind him,
"You do not associate with that boy, or that family, do you understand me, Draco?"
Though barely above a whisper, his father's voice was intimidating and stern. Draco glanced behind him at his mother, who was watching on with slight worry gracing her beautiful, silver eyes. The young boy would do anything to please his parents. He had once or twice gotten on the bad side of his father, and it was a period of time he never wished to return to, intentionally, again. His mother had never intimidated Draco like his father did, but her feelings of disappointment and shame concerning her son was enough to ensure Draco never had those emotions pressed upon him again. He loved his mother, dearly, and he was very grateful of his father, too. He did not want to disappoint them. They were admirable in Draco's eyes, and he would do anything to achieve the respect they had from other wizards and witches, even if that meant doing everything they say.
As his mother's stare lingered on Draco in expectancy, he took a deep swallow and nodded.
"Yes, father," he said, and received a reassuring pat roughly on his shoulder.
Draco very much liked books. Flourish and Blott's was his favourite shop in Diagon Alley. It was graced with every book one could ever wish for. From 'How to Successfully pull a Mandrake' to 'The Tales of a Giant Slayer'. As he made his way inside the small shop in the center of the street, he felt a warm sense of happiness swoop over him. The young boy was oblivious, as his mother pulled out the sheet of parchment, which was attached to his acceptance letter, with a list of his required books written on it. Instead, he made his way over to a large bookshelf beside the door, which was not occupied by parents feverishly looking.
There was a large library in Malfoy Mannor, that Draco was thankful of. He did not have a lot of friends, if any, and growing up as a single child got a little boring from time to time. By his current age, thirteen, Draco had read nearly every book in the library that was worth reading. His mother had even bought him some muggle books, which he was sworn to secrecy about, and was told if his father were to find out, that it probably wouldn't do either of them any good. He quite liked muggle books. He especially liked the ones about fantasy witches and wizards that were made out to be strange, odd looking old men and women, who lived in caves or castles. Their inaccuracy and stereotypical nature made Draco laugh.
As Draco skimmed his long, pale fingers along the spines of the ancient books on the shelves, he came across one he had not read before. Sliding the thick, leather bound spine away from the ones beside it, he took the book in his hands and read the title, 'Hogwarts: A History.' The young Malfoy supposed it only beneficial if he were to read upon on the place he would be spending the next seven years of his life, and as he had not read the book before, Draco was more than happy with his choice. He turned, searching the bustling crowd of people for his parents, who, afterall, were not that hard to identify.
Draco noticed his mother and father talking to two, oddly dressed, plain looking adults. He made his way over to them, cautious of their new acquaintances. When his father finally noticed him approaching, he forced a handsome smile, and held out his hand.
"Right on queue," he announced, taking Draco's shoulder once more and placing him proudly between himself and his wife, "My son, Draco."
Draco held tightly onto the book in his arms, and forced some sort of smile, that mainly came across as a sneer. He eyed the two people before him, who looked something along the lines of overwhelmed and frightened. Draco could not blame them. His family were not exactly ones to pass by. Draco's father had long, platinum blonde hair, and very pale blue eyes which complimented his pale skintone. His mother had hair much like his father's, though half of it a deep black shade. Her skin was pale and marble-esque too, much like Draco's. His hair was of a similar platinum colour to his parents, and was slicked back neatly. All of them wore dark coloured robes. Black, if not a deep shade of green or purple, and beautifully fitted and styled.
They were quite a sight compared to their new friends, who wore some strange, long denim pants, weirdly shaped laced up shoes and knitted garments zipped up over their torso. Draco could not help but quirk an eyebrow at their curious fashion. He noticed the lady, who was rather pretty, though plain, with brown hair and brown eyes, give him a faint smile in return.
"This is Mr and Mrs Granger," his father announced, gesturing to the people before them, "They're muggles. Their daughter, Hermione, is a witch, and will be attending Hogwarts alongside you, Draco."
Mrs Granger placed a comforting arm around a small girl who Draco had not noticed stood beside them. He glanced at her, and felt a genuine smile creep across his face. Her hair was wild, and thick with bushy curls. It was quite a contrast compared to Draco's slick hair, but he liked it's untamed style. It was rather unique. She had brown eyes, like her mother, which gleamed with enthusiasm and excitement as she eyed Draco and his family. She wore strange clothes, like her parents, but Draco did not care. Something about her energy and presence excited Draco. Her careless appearance combined with her large, perfectly straight smile made his stomach somersault.
"Nice to meet you, Draco," she said, and her light voice was almost as intriguing as she was.
Draco politely released one hand from his book, and held it out for her to shake. She took it with a firm grisp, and talked in a hushed voice,
"I apologize for my hand being a little clammy," she said, her tone laced with amusement, "It's all slightly overwhelming."
A sincere chuckled escaped Draco's smiling mouth, as he shook her hand briefly. It seemed as though her careless attitude went alongside her appearance. She was the first person who did not seem to be intimidated nor phased by Draco and his family. He supposed this was because they were muggles, well, her parents, and were oblivious to the connection they had made with his family which was in a high place.
"Toughen up, Granger," he released her hand, which she withdrew with a small chirp of laughter. The name Granger seemed to be more suiting to her informal attitude, and so Draco assigned it as her nickname. The two chuckled slightly, and followed their parents as the wizarding pair began to assist the muggles with their shopping trip that day. Draco took it upon himself to show Hermione around Diagon Alley, still completely bewildered by her confidence and cheerful attitude. She had a positive effect over him, and Draco had to admit he liked being in her company. She was the first friend he ever had, and was very fond of her at that.