Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or The Little Mermaid. It'd be nice if I did, though.
Waves crashed against white sands, filling the air with music that no instrument could replicate. The scent of the sea filled his nostrils, filling him with contentment and reminding him of home. The sand was warm and comfortable beneath him, moulding itself to his shape, and the sun caressed all visible skin, painting the young man and all around him in the colours of the sunset. The world above was all Draco had dreamed of, warmth, sunshine, a perfect beach. . .
Someone was poking his cheek. He groaned and rolled over, the texture of the surface he was lying on changing beneath him. The feeling of sun on his skin changed to the warmth of four walls around him, tiny currents around him telling him that he wasn't alone in his room.
Well, the currents and the insistent cheek-poking.
"Draco. . . Dracoooo. . . Draco!" The voices were as insistent as the poking, and when Draco finally opened his eyes, he wasn't surprised to see his parents leaning over him, holding a cake and grinning. The sound of waves still filled his ears but the dream fading from his immediate memories as fast as waves pulling away from a beach. He looked around, remembering where he was, and grinned back at his mother and father as he sat up. It was his fifteenth birthday. He had been waiting for this day ever since his neighbour, Blaise, had turned fifteen, making his journey to the Surface for a day, to learn of the Landfolk. He had come back so full of stories. From then on, he had watched in envy as every single one of his friends and schoolfellows hit that important age and came back, each with their own stories, their own experiences. Vincent had taken the trip just the week before, and had come back talking of the Landfolk in the castle nearby. A lot of the Landfolk were young, he said, and they all wore the same clothes. They had no imagination, all wore drab black with flashes of colour. They weren't like the Lakepeople, where no two wore the same garments. They were strange, mysterious, and they were frightened of the Lake and all within. Draco found this strange and confusing. Why were they frightened? Were they a threat? He had cast the thought aside until this day. The day when he would finally see them for himself.
But first, there was cake. He took a generous slice and ate it for breakfast. It was one of the only times in the year that he was allowed to eat such a thing for breakfast, although his mother would have a more normal breakfast waiting for him in the kitchen. He wouldn't be allowed to leave until the plate was empty. He let himself be led from his bedroom and into the kitchen, where the dappled light of the Surface streamed through the gaps in the roof, hinting at a weak sun shining far above them. Draco couldn't wait to see it properly.
Having bolted down the breakfast set out for him and pulled on a few heavy necklaces of shells and smooth coloured pebbles, he fidgeted with impatience as his father listed off all the rules that he had to abide by on his journey to the Surface; Don't stay in one place for too long, don't stay above the Surface for longer than an half an hour at a time (letting yourself dry out isn't a good idea) steer clear of the Wild Grindylows unless you plan on bringing a few spears, avoid the squid like the plague if you like your head where it is, and, most important of all, do not go too close to the Landfolk, or let them see you. The Landfolk are dangerous, especially these ones. The Wizards killed with fire and light, and great danger would befall the Lakepeople if the Wizards in their castle thought that they were a threat.
With these rules in mind, Draco bid farewell to his parents, listened to the advice for safe travel from his friends, and was well away from the little town at the bottom of the lake with just a few swishes of his tail.
The first thing Draco noticed as he got closer to the surface was how warm the water was. He hadn't realised that his home lay in the coldest water of the lake, and he found it strange that the water was so warm so close to the surface. Maybe it was the sunlight. He hesitated just underneath the surface, trying to calculate where he was. The land gently sloped upwards to his left, towards a place where there were tall plants reaching for the sky. To his right, a vast expanse of water. Behind him, the way he had come, and in front, another expanse. The waters spread more widely than he had thought. Well, it was time to look at the Surface from the other side of the water. A gentle flap of his fins made his head break the surface of the water, and he almost immediately ducked his head back under, gasping. The sun was so bright! His eyes smarted, dazzled by sudden exposure to bright light.
He tried again, this time with his eyes shut. The cold bit at his ears as he surfaced, and the light was red through his eyelids. He hadn't expected this, and waited until he thought he could handle it before opening his eyes. The light was still bright, but he wasn't blinking more than usual, and the only thing that stung them was the cold air that blew into them. Air! It tasted strange on his tongue, and he almost laughed aloud. He still didn't know exactly where he was, and he peered around once he was used to the light. To his left, the water met the ground on the gentle slope, and from there the ground changed from a dirty, muddy grey to short tufts of green, and then tall plants with thick, rough-looking stems. To his right and behind him, the water seemed to stretch on forever. In front of him, the shore stretched away from him, showing him the castle in the distance, and something sitting on the water. How strange. . . He made his way towards it, hearing his father's voice in his head. Don't get too close to the Landfolk.
His curiosity smothered the voice, and he ducked beneath the surface again to make his way closer to the dwelling place of the Landfolk.