Authors Note: Hi. This is my first fic. I'd like to thank you all for reading this, which means you are reading my story. I am in no way computer literate, so there will be formatting mistakes, it that's the right term.

I hope you enjoy this sad little story, and thanks for reading.

Disclaimer: I've noticed a lot of these so here is mine. We all know nobody makes any profit, and the characters don't belong to us. I'm no different.

Here goes nothing:

Draco Malfoy and the his unforeseen inamorato

Chapter One: Beginning of a New Year

   Draco Malfoy stretched languidly. He lay back amongst the pillows, savoring the early morning quiet he'd lived without for most of his time at Hogwarts. Having been made prefect the previous year, he now had his own quarters and was supplied with a much better bathroom than the other students. He smirked, gloating for the sake of gloating. He rolled to his side and stared out the picturesque bay window, which overlooked the lake.

Hogwarts, set on a rather high-knoll, had a numerous windows. Taking advantage of the positioning of the castle, the founders had been able to give even the dungeons an incredible view.

   Draco rose and pushed aside the coverlet. He stood and surveyed the room he'd been issued, still pleased enough with it to feel smug. He had spent the night in a particularly spectacular mahogany four poster bed, made up with the Slytherin colors, and of course, silk streamers draped from the canopy, orchestrating the frame work perfectly. On one side of circular room, a large stone fireplace glowed merrily, a few squashy armchairs facing it. He had been equipped with an elegant desk, composed of flowing lines and delicate legs, also mahogany. The wardrobe stood against the wall opposite the bed, leaning against ornate wood paneling, which had complicated carving and several wall sconces. The floor was carpeted, with large area rugs, of Persian design. Behind his desk a bookshelf had been built into the wall, and in the nook he had stored his novels, ranging from Dante, Virgil, and Shakespeare, to F.Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, and Daniel Keyes. A few frayed copies of Marcus Aurelius and Homer were tucked in as well. He also secretly kept a Hardy Boys novel, concealed behind the Aeneid. On the upper most shelf he kept a picture of his family, in a sturdy metal frame. He and his mother had grouped behind his seated father, looking distant and aloof. Next to the photograph was a squat box, also silver, and elaborately adorned.

   Thin morning light, faintly pink had begun to stream through the window. He shrugged out of his pajamas and had begun to dress himself in the approved uniform, when a firm knock sounded the room. He stepped into his robe and moved toward the door, still bare foot. He pulled open the door and looked into the corridor. Nothing. His eyes narrowed. Suddenly he felt a light tug near the knee of his robe and looked down. Winky stood before him, holding a large platter with a pot of tea and various dressings. She blushed furiously. "Winky thought sir might like some tea," she stammered. Draco smiled slyly, concealing considerable mirth. " Thanks, Winky," he murmured, nearly purring," you were right." She bustled into the room, placing the tea on his desk. She was wearing her clothes, which looked to Draco, like they had been scrubbed laboriously. Her nose was clean and she wasn't blubbering. She crossed the room purposefully and drew the curtains. A much more vibrant pink lit the chamber. "Thank you Winky," he said, smiling again, " I was just about to do that myself." Winky stammered, her cheeks conflagrant. " Sir is welcome, it was Winky's pleasure." She scurried from the room. Draco mixed tea, while chuckling fondly. The house elf was efficient, if a little clingy, and Draco appreciated her work. He accredited Dobby for introducing them; Draco had pulled an all-nighter and had had a considerable thirst for butterbeer.

He had snuck to the kitchens and Dobby had zoomed toward him, parting the crowd of jabbering elves. Draco had been surprised-and pleased to see him, Dobby having been a companion in Draco's isolated and rather lonely childhood. Dobby had snatched the remaining Butterbeer from Winky's grasp, who had yelped in protest, and pushed it toward Draco, tutting.

    He downed the rest of his tea and headed toward the great hall, intent on breakfast.

    His shoes clacked merrily against the rough flagstone of the dungeon and the sound had alerted Pansy, she had followed the trail like a bloodhound. " Draco!" she simpered breathily, " wait!" She caught him and batted her eyelashes sickeningly. Draco snorted and she laughed brightly. " Really, though," she said as they walked in a normal tone of voice, " did that elf come by again?" He smiled ruefully, " Yes, she did."

  " She's got it bad." Pansy remarked. " Yeah, but she is rather thoughtful." he countered. They talked and joked the rest of the way, resuming icy Slytherin aristocracy as they neared the entrance hall. Breakfast was beginning and the hall buzzed contentedly. It was filling up quickly, and students chatted animatedly, enjoying the last of their down time before classes began.

    Draco and Pansy strode through the double doors, robes swirled wildly, and they moved in unison. They approached Slytherins table, surveyed the goods, and picked choosily. Crabbe and Goyle had been at the table since first light, eating hungrily. The school mistakenly dismissed them as piggy bullies, when the truth was far. They were muscular and worked out regularly, both enjoyed rough sporting. The constant eating satiated their appetites and added to the charade of stupidity. Crabbe was an excellent emissary, whose ability to play dumb was seconded by only by Goyle, a genius when it came to military tactics. They were able to fool the entire student body and most of the teachers, and therefore, had more dirt to dish than Lavender Brown. It never failed to surprise the Slytherins what people talked about openly, even more so what they said around people they didn't think would comprehend.

     " Anything new today?" Draco asked as he took his seat. The entire table perked, and then leaned forward intently, rousing suspicious looks from the other house tables nearest them. Crabbe and Goyle grinned. " Lavender has suspicions Padma contracted a some sort of rash." The table looked dubious. "...from her boyfriend. We don't know how she knows, and Padma isn't that straight forward." The table drew obvious conclusions and laughed nastily, alerting more suspicion from other tables. They moved in closer, and the boys regaled them for the rest of the meal, occasional hoots keeping the rest of the hall on its toes.