Disclaimer: I don't own any characters or settings in the Harry Potter Universe. I simply tell stories from my imagination based on J. K. Rowling's wizarding world. Some of the dialogue may be familiar; I borrowed a few lines directly from the movie.
A million thanks to Jade Vivian Neris de Silvera for agreeing to be my beta!
Summer was horrible. I was given a task by the Dark Lord and I know it was to make up for my Father's little screw-up at the Department of Mysteries. Now with Dear Old Dad in Azkaban and the family name tarnished, I'm the only one with the power to fix it. My task, should I be successful, would restore our honor; this wasn't quite how I pictured doing it though.
Feeling slightly mollified after breaking Potter's nose, I slammed the compartment door shut before following the other students.
"Name?" asked a squeaky voice, bringing me out of my thoughts.
Looking down, Professor Flitwick stood in front of me holding a long, official looking scroll.
Confused, I replied in my haughtiest voice, "Draco Malfoy, sir."
The professor nodded, making a mark on the parchment. He then gestured me forward, seemingly unaware that there were no carriages left. Surely my business with Potter didn't take so long that I missed the last carriage.
"Professor, just how am I supposed to get to the feast?"
Not sparing me a glance, he said, "You may either walk or wait for the last students and go with the luggage."
Not pleased with either option-imagine a Malfoy arriving in such an undignified way; my father would have heard about it if he wasn't otherwise occupied- I looked over at the towering piles of luggage, thinking through other choices. While doing so I saw the annoying Filch pawing through my trunk.
Before my mind completely processed what I was doing, I rushed over to the man.
"Hey, what are you doing? Keep your hands off my belongings!"
"Students' luggage must be checked. No exceptions!" Filch responded almost giddily. As he said that , he pulled something from my trunk. "What's this? It could be considered a dangerous object."
"It's a walking stick, you cretin!" I said angrily.
The man didn't look convinced, stating, "Maybe I'll just hold on to it."
Before I could muster a reply, my favorite professor cut in smoothly, "I can vouch for Mr. Malfoy."
Hardly daring to believe it, I snatched the cane from Filch, silently reveling in his disappointed expression.
Movement in my peripheral vision made me pause. Potter and some blonde girl - Loony, I think - stood watching. Hoping to preserve some of my dignity at my worst enemy witnessing my embarrassing situation, I shouted, "Nice face, Potter!"
With a satisfied smirk at his disgusted face, I turned and followed the Potions Master. Clutching my father's walking stick, my only physical reminder of him, I mentally prepared for my sixth year. Lucius Malfoy was a crummy father, but he was the only one I've got and I'd do whatever it took to keep my family together. Even if I had to kill Dumbledore by hand.
Thank you for taking the time to read my story. I hope you enjoy it and please don't forget to leave a review. Have a great rest of your day. :)