Written for second assignment On Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) on the subject pshycology:child pshycology
Prompts used: (Character) Draco Malfoy
Words:1,620
Draco Malfoy had been watching his father ever since he could remember. His first memory was of his father smiling down proudly at him. Laughing and telling Narcissa, Draco's mother, how proud he was of the little 'heir' she had produced him.
When he was three, he watched as Lucius shouted at a small house elf because he had mixed up his tea. For Draco, this was very new as he had never seen his father shout at anyone before. Never at him, at least.
When he was five, Draco received his first scolding as he broke one of the valuable vases. It was very valuable and goblin-made, Draco remembered. There was no thrashing, but Draco was stripped of all his special privileges. No broom, no meeting his friends, no getting out of the room and no contact except the house elves.
When he was seven, Draco was allowed to accompany Lucius and Narcissa to a Ministry meeting. He watched as his parents stood straight, their chins high up. Narcissa refused to talk to some whom she referred to as 'blood traitors', 'half-bloods' and 'mudbloods.' Next day, he was given a long lecture on the different kind of bloods found in the Wizarding World.
When he was eight, Draco learned never to question his father. Only follow him. For he is always right.
When he was nine, Draco saw how Lucius behaved in front of Crabbe, Goyle, Nott and others. They were not given much importance, yet they stayed around him. 'Pitiful people', Lucius had called them. 'They need superiors like us'. Even when Lucius was lying, he was lying with such ease. 'Never show real emotions' was his mantra.
When he was ten, Draco witnessed how his father would bully the Minister of Magic to do anything that pleased him. His father told him, if you play your card right, anything can be done.
When he was eleven, Draco believed he was old enough to go and buy is things from Diagon Alley. But his parents had insisted they came with him. So the family of three walked in the Diagon Alley.
Finally, after a lot of persuasion, he was left alone at Madam Malkin's. The robe was being measured when the door opened and a scrawny little boy entered the shop. 'Pity' he thought to himself. He saw as Madam Malkin led him to a stool near him. Draco thought this was a nice way to get fri-no, allies.
"Hello," Draco said, "Hogwarts too?"
"Yes." The boy said timidly. Draco smirked inward. He would need someone to guide him definitely. Draco needed to show some power.
"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," Draco said in a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."
Never in his dreams would Draco dare to bully his father! But well, this boy didn't need to know, now, did he?
Draco realized the boy looked little shaken. Better shift to lighter topic then.
"Have you got a broom?" Draco asked.
"No."
"Play Quidditch at all?"
"No."
Who in the name of Salazar didn't play Quidditch?
"I do - Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"
"No."
"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been - imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"
"Mmm,"
Draco judged the boy. He was a boy of few words. It wouldn't be hard to get him under him. His gaze lingered out of the shop and he saw a gigantic man.
"I say, look at that man!"
"That's Hagrid," The boy said, and he looked pretty happy about it.
"Oh," said Draco, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"
"He's the gamekeeper,"
"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage - lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."
"I think he's brilliant," the boy said coldly.
"Do you?" said Draco, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"
"They're dead," the boy said shortly.
"Oh, sorry," said Draco. It didn't matter to him whether they were dead or alive. What mattered was... "But they were our kind, weren't they?"
"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."
"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families." Draco threw out everything his father used to say. "What's your surname, anyway?"
But before the boy could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and the boy, hopped down from the footstool.
"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," Draco said.
The boy left without any words. Draco smirked. He did exactly as his father would have done. Maybe Hogwarts was going to be a good start.
Draco was getting bored with the troll heads named Crabbe and Goyle. They were good friends, yes, but sometimes, they were just too boring. An idea stuck him and he said, "Crabbe, Goyle, Harry Potter is on this train with us. Let's find him!"
The two nodded enthusiastically.
The band of three left, peeping into different. There were quite a lot of mudblood son the train and Draco sneered. It wasn't as if he felt something like his father had said, but he just followed his father.
Finally, he opened the last door. There was the boy from Madam Malkin's robe sop and a red head.
He didn't pay much attention to him and turned to the boy from the shop. He didn't look like Harry Potter-he was so timid!
"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"
"Yes," said the boy. Draco couldn't believe his eyes! He had just met Harry Potter!
He noticed that potter was looking at Crabbe and Goyle and decided to introduce tem.
"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," Draco said, trying to hide his excitement by carelessness. Because his father would say-'A Malfoy doesn't show his true feelings to anyone.
"And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."
The red head gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco looked at him. His mind searched for something and immediately got it.
"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."
He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."
He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it.
"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said coolly.
Draco Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks. He couldn't believe it. Why would Potter not take his hand in friendship?
"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly, trying to maybe scare him. That always worked for his father. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."
Both Potter and Weasley stood up.
"Say that again," Weasley said, his face as red as his hair.
"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Draco sneered. He had Crabbe and Goyle. He wasn't scared!
"Unless you get out now," Potter said .
"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."
'Show your stand.' Draco's father would say.
Goyle reached toward the Chocolate Frogs next to Weasley- Weasley leapt forward, but before he'd so much as touched Goyle, Goyle let out a horrible yell.
Draco turned to see a rat hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle's knuckle - Crabbe and Draco backed away as Goyle swung the rat round and round, howling, and when the rat finally flew off and hit the window, all three of them disappeared at once.
"That rat!" Goyle screamed and they ran to a see a senior Slytheirn who would know some healing spells, probably Flint.
But Draco wondered. He did everything as his parents would have done. Why did Harry Potter not want to be his friend? His thoughts ran and only stopped as the train stopped. Sighing, Draco followed Crabbe and Goyle. Maybe only time would tell.