Only the Beginning

Description: I think a lot of people forget that the original reason Harry and Draco disliked each other is because Harry publicly humiliated Draco when he turned down his friendship. But, as the books progressed, the issue between them became prejudice and differing loyalties. So, knowing that Draco's parents influenced him to hate anyone working against Voldemort, why would Draco have tried to befriend Harry in the first place? I personally think that the scene on the train [in the books] indicates that Draco didn't have a clue about his parents' history when he was growing up, otherwise he never would have tried to make friends with Harry. I decided to write this scene from Draco's point of view. I decided to try to stay true to the books and write it from on the train…

I also picture the eleven year old Draco as this smart, creative, ambitious kid who had all the potential in the world, who just got steered in the wrong direction. This story is written from Draco's point of view, but in the third person. So although most of the wording isn't quite in keeping with what an eleven year old would say, there are parts that directly quote Draco's thoughts. So if the parts that contain Draco's thoughts seem a little illogical, keep in mind that I did to try to write those parts with the maturity level of an eleven year old in mind.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. JK Rowling does.

Some of the dialogue is taken directly from the book because I couldn't figure out a way to further paraphrase. Once again, the words from the book aren't my words, they're JK Rowling's.

Draco sat on the train, absently drumming the armrest of the seat with his fingers. They had only been on the train a few hours, but he was already feeling strange about being so far from home. Well, he supposed, it wasn't so much being far away that was bothering him as it was the amount of time he would be away. Sure, he had been away to Quidditch Camp last summer for a week, but that wasn't long enough to miss home…not that he ever would have, of course. Missing one's parents was for wimps, and he was most definitely not a wimp. He wouldn't even entertain the idea that it was possible for him to indulge in such behavior. No, he was fine going away to Hogwarts. He didn't even really need to go home for Christmas break, even though it was all his mother had talked about in a tone of forced cheerfulness for the last week ("well at least you'll be home again in three months, I suppose that isn't long enough for us to miss each other too much, is it?")- no, he was only going home because first years weren't allowed brooms at Hogwarts, and of course he needed the time to keep his flying skills sharp to try out for the Quidditch team his second year.

Draco looked at the seats across from him, making sure Vincent and Gregory were both still asleep. He had an image to maintain, after all, he didn't want either of his friends to suspect he was thinking about anything so…sentimental. He frowned at just the thought, somewhat ashamed of himself. It turned out he had nothing to worry about. Although, he thought, it may not have made much difference if they were awake. Gregory went along with anything you wanted to do, there was no arguing with him over who would play which position in their makeshift games of Quidditch, or who would be which character in the "let's pretend…" games they had played when they were small. But this exact personality trait that made him such an amicable playmate was what made him kind of boring to play…or rather, to hang out with, eleven year olds were too old to play. After Draco had gotten his acceptance letter to Hogwarts, he had been quick to drop any childish phrases from his vocabulary. Gregory wouldn't have paid any mind to what Draco was doing or why.

The same went for Vincent. Vincent, like Gregory, was an acceptable friend- wait, no, acquaintance. Draco's father never referred to anyone as his friend. Friends were only for people who were too weak to look out for themselves. As if he, Draco Malfoy, couldn't take care of himself. The thing about Vincent, however, was that he just never really wanted to do much of anything. He never had anything to say, no ideas of his own, presumably, at least. And sure, there was Pansy too, but she was a girl. He'd been over to her house with his parents before, and she was alright and everything, but there was nothing fun to do at her house. She didn't even like Quidditch, for crying out loud.

Draco sometimes privately wished for another friend, one who had the same interests he did. Draco's mind was always active, he always felt sort of inspired. Draco was obsessed with the idea that someday, he would be a part of something great- no, he would be the leader of something great. And while he definitely didn't want anyone overshadowing him, he sometimes thought it might be nice to have someone to sort of collaborate with, for want of a better term. It couldn't hurt to have someone competent around, right? Someone who could help with the details of any plan he devised.

Contemplating this, Draco had almost let out a deep sigh before he caught himself. It was a slippery slope, he knew, letting your feelings get the better of you. He cleared his throat and turned his attention to the hall, where he could see a small group of students gathered in a circle. Judging by the looks on their faces, and the way they seemed to be whispering, Draco surmised that they must have been discussing some kind of secret. He couldn't help but be curious…after all, he had grown up surrounded by secrets. His parents and their friends sometimes whispered amongst themselves, occasionally glancing around to see if Draco or any of the other children were listening. Gregory and Vincent had never cared what the grown-ups were whispering about no matter how many times Draco had tried to get them interested, but Draco had spent quite a bit of his childhood trying to listen in on their conservations, trying to find out what the big deal was. Every time he got close though, his mother somehow sensed that he was around (surely she didn't really have eyes in the back of her head?), and would lean closer to the others, and inform them that, "little ears can hear". But his mother wasn't around now, so no one could stop him from finding out what these people were talking about.

"…so you really think it was him?" a girl whispered to her friend. "Yeah, definitely", her friend answered. "Didn't you see his scar? It was Harry Potter for sure!"

Harry Potter? Draco was immediately intrigued. His parents never discussed Harry Potter, and in fact they got pretty irritated the few times the subject had come up, but Draco knew that Harry Potter had been the one to bring down You-Know-Who. Draco also knew that must have required some pretty powerful magic. Therefore, if he could make friends….acquaintances, with Harry Potter, maybe Harry could teach him whatever powerful magic it was he knew? Draco didn't know what kind of magic it took to take down one of the most powerful wizards of all time, but he definitely wanted to find out. And from there, Draco thought, maybe he could improve upon it somehow, or figure out other ways it could be used? Draco could already imagine the newspaper headlines, the chapters in textbooks that would be devoted to him someday: Draco Malfoy, developer of the most powerful magic of all time…

But Draco knew he couldn't get sidetracked with the details just yet. He'd made that mistake many times as a child, coming up with some great way to leave the entire wizarding community with jaws gaping open at his latest ingenuity, and then getting so caught up in the planning, he never actually did carried out his plans. But now he was practically grown up, going off to school, and he would approach his endeavors in a much more mature, sophisticated way. There would be no more unrealized dreams for him.

That settled it then. He would go to find Harry Potter, and impress him, because of course, he was a Malfoy, and naturally everyone was impressed by the Malfoys. And then, eventually, Harry Potter would tell him everything he knew about this magic strong enough to take down the Dark Lord and Draco would almost recreate it, until this powerful magic was so improved upon that whatever Harry Potter had done with it would look elementary in comparison to what Draco could do with it. And he wouldn't go alone. He had learned from observing his father that it was always best to be just a little bit intimidating- only enough prove that no one could screw with him.

"Hey", he said, nudging Gregory and Vincent awake. "Hey!" They slept like the bloody dead! Draco walked over to the door of their section of the train and opened it, only to slam it closed as noisily as he could. That did the trick.

Gregory and Vincent both mumbled something unintelligible and rubbed their eyes.

"I've got something for us to do, come on", Draco answered.

Gregory and Vincent both got up and followed Draco out of their section of the train. It wasn't long before they found Harry Potter, sitting across from a red-headed boy wearing the shabbiest robes Draco had ever seen.

Draco cleared his throat, and both boys looked up. Yeah, the scar was there all right, barely visible under thick black bangs. Draco stepped forward.

"Harry Potter, right? I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy", Draco announced, with the same hint of pride in his voice that he always heard in his father's voice whenever he said his name. Harry Potter regarded him with polite interest, but to his annoyance, the red-headed boy snickered. Draco stiffened.

"I really don't think you should be laughing at anyone, when you've got on robes like that. You must be a Weasley…my father says that all the Weasleys are so poor the robes they wear have been handed down for five generations. I don't think I'd be able to show my face in public if I were from a family like that." The Weasley boy jumped to his feet. Draco turned slightly to catch Harry's eye and smirk, certain that he had earned the boy's respect. Harry was frowning, but Draco didn't read too much into it. After all, nobody that powerful would want to hang out with somebody like a Weasley.

Draco then addressed Harry directly. "It won't take long for you to learn that some wizarding families are much better than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there. [ taken directly from the book- JK owns!] " Draco extended his hand to Harry. But to his shock, Harry didn't take it. Instead, he stood and assumed a haughty expression and said to Draco, "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks." [ taken directly from the book- JK owns!]

Draco heard both Gregory and Vincent suppress snickers as he felt a strange, icy cold feeling in his chest. Some friends they were! He hadn't prepared for this…

Draco straightened himself up to his full height, which wasn't any bigger than Harry or Ron, although all three of them were dwarfed by Gregory and Vincent. The Weasley boy lifted his chin and said, "Calling me and my family the wrong sort, are you, Malfoy?"

Draco sneered. "Going to fight me, are you?"

But it was Harry who answered, not Weasley. "Yeah, if you don't get out soon."

But Harry's confident tone didn't fool Draco. He saw Potter's eyes flick over to Gregory and Vincent, and he was glad he brought them. Draco quickly tried to think of a way to save face. "Yeah, well, maybe we don't feel like leaving." He tried to think of something that would get Gregory and Vincent pumped for a fight, and his eyes fell on the pile of candy on the seat next to them. "Maybe we feel like taking your food." That did the trick, as far as Gregory and Vincent were concerned. The Weasley boy jumped forward as Gregory lunged for the candy, but before the Weasley boy had laid a hand on him, Gregory let out a horrible howl. He held up his hand, which had a rat dangling from one of his fingers. Disgusted by his comrade's expression of pain, Draco quickly reached over and roughly detached the rat, and then stalked out, quickly followed by Vincent, and Gregory nursing a bloody finger.

Draco loosened his collar as he stormed back to their compartment on the train. Angry as he was, he couldn't help but be grateful that there was no ostensible way for his father to find out. Draco could only imagine what his father would say…

As the three boys returned to their seats, Draco reassumed the smirk he'd learned to imitate from his father, and said, in hopes that a change of subject would help him save face, "So, when do you think we'll be Sorted? My father said it's not long after we arrive, although I really don't see the point. I already know I'll be in Slytherin, just like anyone else who's not a complete waste of space. "

Draco leaned back in his seat, pretending that all was forgotten. (And considering that he was with Gregory and Vincent, chances were good that all really was forgotten.) In response to what he had said, the other two boys just shrugged, as Draco had expected. Draco leaned back in his seat, his confidence once again restored. He was a Malfoy. He didn't let people get to him. It wouldn't be long before they would be at Hogwarts, he would be sorted into Slytherin, and he would make it clear that every person there would only be so lucky as to be acquainted with the great Draco Malfoy.

Slytherins, his father had told him, were ambitious, they did not permit anyone or anything to hold them back from what they meant to accomplish. Draco thought with satisfaction that this described him perfectly. It wouldn't be long before he could write the letter to his parents, telling them that he was sorted into house that all the Malfoys had been sorted into, and he could imagine his parents beaming with pride as they read about what would only be the beginning of their son's many achievements.

Please review! I would especially appreciate comments on my characterization and how well my story transitioned from one scene to the next, I wasn't sure how well I did either of those. However, reviews of any kind are appreciated!