In the Heart of a Dragon

Chapter 1: Loco - motive

By: Winter's End

Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter are owned and copyrighted by J.K. Rowling. This story is only for the sake of pure entertainment.

Summary: Draco looks different. Don't ask me how. Go figure. ^_^X

Draco tried very hard to hide his growing discomfort as he passed by a group of giggling Hufflepuff girls. In doing so, he heard an almost inaudible whisper pass between them behind his back; he turned on his heels in a fit and glared. He realized too late that it was probably the worst mistake he'd made all day, finally deciding that looks could kill as one girl in the group decided to fall to the floor in a dead faint. In both anger and surprise, he whirled around with a menacing hiss, planning only to relieve himself of this nightmare with a cold splash of water on his face.

Since the beginning of the day, he'd been having nothing but a series of bad luck. It all began with Crabbe and Goyle's failure to recognize him --- him! Their undoubted superior! And since then the same bad luck had followed him throughout the train. Everyone who had seen him that morning had either gaped up at him openly or giggled themselves silly that even he who had only been watching them found it very challenging to even bear the pain in his own side! And just now, a girl had actually fainted! What did they think he looked like! Homer Simpson! He almost choked at his bad choice of comparison. He certainly didn't look that bad --- did he?

So what in the abyss was wrong with everybody!

In a lethal fit of fury, he glowered at the next person he saw, stopping him before he could gawk.

Unutterably mortified at the nerve-crushing sight of Malfoy's metal-piercing stare, Neville Longbottom --- who had the most unfortunate timing of crossing his path at that very moment --- cowered himself into a corner, trembling violently, hoping in vain to be the corner.

Draco left him there with a grunt, focusing his attention in reaching the seclusion of the lavatory which was now only a few meters at hand...

Someone bumped him.

His anger exploded. Draco flared, willing himself to pounce on whomever it was that had brought that incessant disturbance to his thoughts, preparing himself to tear that intruder limb from limb.

He heard the audible thudding of books falling to the floor beside his feet. When his vision finally cleared from the steaming blur of his anger, he saw who the intruder was. Indeterminable anger only made him narrow his eyes in a glare that even he himself couldn't have survived. He didn't speak, trying to regain his composure, deciding against his previous plan of pouncing on the intruder that had somehow turned out to be a girl. Such act would hardly be able to give his classmates a good impression of him in his last year of school if he should be found sprawled on top of this girl --- especially this Gryffindor girl.

Hermione only stood there, infront of him, looking up into his face with open-mouthed amazement.

Calming down, he raised his chin nonchalantly, ignoring her blank stare. In a gesture of princely regality, Draco brushed his robes with the back of his hand, straightening them in the same manner. Not wanting to loose control of himself once again and risk doing something really stupid, he only eyed her with pure hatred. `Next time, Granger,' he whispered threateningly, `watch where you're going.' And with that, he stepped aside, and walked passed her, barely even brushing their shoulders.

Hermione, obviously stunned, forgot to retort and watched him go; Harry and Ron, who wore identical expressions, did the same.

When Hermione finally spoke, it came out as a gasp. `Did you see ---?'

`Yes,' they choked.

`Do you think ---?'

`Yes.'

`Was it really ---?'

`Yes.'

`That was...'

`Yes.'

Overwhelmed, she breathed out, `What happened to Malfoy?'

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The water was refreshing, trickling down his face in a flowing stream of enlightenment. Draco braced his hands against the sides of the sink; his head bowed low in silent reflection. He was calmed now, but apparently not calm enough to figure out the reason for the series of extreme reactions he had gotten by only traipsing along aimlessly. These events had finally changed his mind about fame, making him regret the day he had wished for it.

It felt awkward... having people stare at you for no obvious reason, having your every single movement watched.

*So...* he thought. *This was how it felt like to be in the shoes of the great Harry Potter...*

`Honestly, Potter,' he said, talking to the Boy Who Lived as if he was really there. `You can keep your fame.' He grinned. `But the look on Granger's face was priceless!' He had never thought that the intolerable Headgirl of the century could actually be dumbstruck with naught but a mere inkling of what she was seeing. He frowned, suddenly. What was she seeing?

Draco raised his head to examine himself in the mirror. He narrowed his eyes in scrutiny, turning his face this way and that to have clearer view of himself. *Funny...* he thought. *I look the same. *

Leaning closer towards the reflection, he concluded that he really hadn't changed... much.

The myriad of freckles that had broken out all over his face that summer had completely disappeared, leaving only a clear and untainted stretch of alabaster skin. His features had refined over the years, allowing him to attain a set of delicate yet powerful jaws to go with his pair of tantalizing gray eyes, his cheekbones finely chiseled into perfection, lengthened platinum hair falling over the sides of his face adding to his natural allure. He was tall, and lanky. He didn't own the set of well-toned muscles the Weasley twins had acquired over the years of retaining their position as Beaters; but Draco did have a hard, though slightly, muscled body he had obtained during the heavy training he had undergone as the Slytherin Seeker.

In short, he was absolutely striking, if not, handsome.

But that particularly didn't give that Hufflepuff student the right to faint --- nor for the rest of his schoolmates to gawk at him in such open...

No. He wasn't sure if it was admiration, or some peculiar kind of eye disease all of them had acquired during the summer; and even though he had much preferred the former over the latter, he still didn't risk jumping into unproven conclusions which had last time brought him to a state of abysmal embarrassment.

He pushed himself up, his posture set in the mode of charming regality. Let them gawk for all he cared; he was going to ignore them --- he shrugged --- as much as he can...

* * * * * * * * * * * *

A/N: *glare* It didn't turn out the way that I had wanted it... like all others that are of my make. And I can't promise you that the next chapter would be better. *glare* these things have a way of finding themselves in a different direction and might not turn out in the path that you had planned. Forgive me. I am inconsistent. Please don't forget to send your reviews. *Grin* I like reviews.