Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter books and/or movies, or anything associated with them (I'm not repeating this for the other chapters).
Hi!
…er, welcome to the fic! I haven't ever written a Draco/Harry story before, or even a decent Harry Potter fic, so feel free to correct any errors you find in this chapter and beyond. And don't just say something stupid like, "You're fic sucks!" I'd like a reason to know why.
And I happen to be a huge fan of slash, so if you don't like, don't read. Simple as that. Bye, bye, kiddies.
As for the rest of you – enjoy! Ideas are welcome.
NOTE: By the way, this story starts off after Harry left Mr.Ollivander's shop. IN THIS STORY, THOUGH, HARRY'S GETTING HIS ROBES RIGHT AFTER!
HP
The temperature had dropped slightly from the time they had entered Mr.Ollivander's, leaving Harry feelingrather chilly, though everyone else on the streets looked absolutely fine. His system must have slowly adapted to the regular days he spent out in the blistering sun – trust the Dursleys to ruin his health. September couldn't come fast enough, he thought bitterly – he couldn't wait to get away from his 'family' for the entire school year. Perhaps he could somehow figure out a way to stay for the summer, too; he was sure the Dursleys wouldn't mind.
"All right there, 'Arry?" Hagrid grunted cheerily beside him, "Yeh drifted off there fer a mo'."
Before Harry could answer, he was being led back down the street, towards a rather old looking shop, with large letters above the entrance reading Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions.
"Yeh don't mind if I leave yeh on yer own fer a li'l bit, do yeh? I got somethin' I needs to take care o', firs'. I'll be back…"
Nodding silently, Harry made his way into the shop, all the while trying to ignore that horrible feeling that was seeping up into his throat. Everyone thought he was so special, expected such great things from him, but he couldn't even remember what it was that made him so famous in the first place. What if it had all been a mistake? What if it was really the boy down the block in number fourteen Private Drive, and they just got the numbers mixed up?
Slouching miserably up to a random rack of robes, he began to look through for anything remotely resembling what he had seen the wizard's uniforms as on those horrible cartoons Dudley watched on his television set. It struck him quite quickly, though, that he didn't have any idea if those films were actually in any way related to the real wizarding world.
Judging by what he knew so far, they probably weren't.
"Hullo, young man. Are you here for Hogwarts?"
Startled, Harry turned.
"Y-yes,"
"Well, then, just you wait one moment and we'll have you fitted. There's another boybefore you - it'll just be a bit." Madam Malkin (as Harry had assumed she was) said, then walked swiftly into the back room.
Watching her go, Harry was extremely surprised to see how much he had missed in his earlier moping state. He had completely walked by the fitting area, not catching even a glance at the boy who stood there looking at him through the mirror, at this very moment. The boy saw him staring, and began to speak.
"You're going to Hogwarts, too?" he was blond, Harry noticed, and when he looked closer, he saw the eyes in the reflection were silver. Was it perhaps a trick of the mirror, or was this a common trait in some wizards? "Do you know what House you're going to be sorted into?"
"No." he answered immediately, but found he couldn't say anything more. House? What was a House? Did they each have different residents they were sorted into, depending on magical ability? Slumping his shoulders, Harry knew he'd be in the raggedy old sheds, all by himself.
"Yes, I suppose you wouldn't. We can only guess. I have a feeling I'll be in Slytherin - though, with that glum look about you I'd say we won't be sorted the same. You'll end up in Hufflepuff if you don't raise your spirits a bit. There'll be no where else to go. What's your name, by the way? I'm Draco Malfoy."
The boy - Draco, as he said - walked off the sort of stage he was on and offered his hand to him in a friendly handshake.
Harry looked at the hand hesitantly. This boy did seemed nice enough, though by the looks of him you'd think he was a snobbish brat. He looked like he had everything, and, judging by the broomstick leaning up on the wall by the mirror, and the way the boys by the window earlier were oggling them, he probably did. But he hadn't had any friends before, and he sure couldn't be passing up any offerings simply by looks. The only thing that made him rather reluctant, though, was what Hagrid had said earlier about the 'bad wizards.' How did you tell a good one from a bad one, or did you ask, and they told you?
Not wanting to make a fool of himself, though, Harry shook hands with the blond haired boy - Draco, as he had said.
At that moment, Madam Malkins rushed back into the room with a bag full of robes, and a tall, blonde women tagging along behind her. One glance at the womanhad Harry guessingthat she was Draco's mother, and the fact that she paid for his robes and picked up what he had assumed was Draco's broomstick confirmed his assumptions.
"Well? Do you have a name, or..." but Draco stopped in midsentence. His gaze had settled on Harry's forehead, who in turn knew he was too late to flatten his fringe and hide his scar.
"You're Harry Potter, aren't you?" the blond stated, his voice laced with a fear Harry had not expected. His expression quickly changed to one of malice, though and he continued, "Well, I didn't think I'd be seeing you here - and I didn't much want to, either. I hadn't been informed that the famous 'Boy-Who-Lived' was to be attending the same school as I. You're going to be stuck in Hufflepuff, you sodding, wretched -"
"Now, now, Draco dear." The blonde women placed her free hand on her son's shoulder and began steering him towards the door, "There's no need to say such things to other people."
Harry saw the apologetic look on her face just before she faded out the door.
HP
"S-so you're Harry Potter?"
He was getting rather tired of going over this so many times. Yes, he was Harry Potter. What was wrong with these people!
"No," he said sarcastically, "I'm Bobby Wood."
"Really? Are you by chance related to Oliver Wood?"
Unfortunately, the boy didn't seem to catch on to his sarcasm, and he immediately lashed out, causing the other boy to squeek in terror and run out of the compartment. Harry felt guilt rise up out of the pit of his stomach, and looked down into his lap with a feeling of subdued regret.
The door to the compartment opened once again, and he jerked his head up, ready to apologize to the boy.
"Oh. You're here. All the other compartments are full. Perhaps I'll go take another round to make sure..."
Harry watched in silent fury as the boy he had met at Madam Malkin's seemed to change his mind and sat down across him. For a moment neither of them spoke, but Harry couldn't take the silence any more than a few seconds.
"Why did you get so angry back when I saw you in Diagon Alley?"
Malfoy, much to his distress, took his sweet time in answering this question. He looked down at his perfectly polished shoes, then allowed his eyes to wander to the window before he answered.
"Why, because you're Harry Potter, of course."
Harry exploded.
"What does that matter! What is wrong with you people! All that you people say to me is linked to my name! I'm just another student, can't you see, RIDING THE TRAIN TO SOME NEW SCHOOL, LOST AS EVER?"
Malfoy looked shocked for a moment, but soon anger flooded his features.
"Well you shouldn't be LOST AS EVER, as you so put it! You're APPARENTLY the MOST POWERFUL WIZARD IN THE WIZARDING WORLD! ARE YOU! COME ON, PROVE THE RUMOURS TRUE!"
Harry, knowing full well that it would be no use for him to attempt to use his wand, fisted his hand and punched Malfoy directly in the face. He grinned in satisfaction as blood began to spill from his nose, and didn't notice what the other boy was going to do until he had done it. Malfoy lunged at him with his hands out, managing to scratch his face all the way from his cheek to the bottom of his neck. Blood welled up on the slices and dripped down the front of Dudley's old clothes, and Harry was pouncing on him, trying to get another shot in.
They rolled around like this, occasionally getting another punch or kick in, using any objects they found on the floor to hurt each other, only stopping when they heard the compartment door open. Harry, who currently had Malfoy pinned to the floor, looked up behind him and saw a little girl with bushy hair watching them with wide eyes.
"HELP!" she suddenly screamed, running away down the hall, "Two boys are trying to kill each other in the seventh compartment!"
Malfoy pushed on Harry's chest as hard as he could, but the boy wouldn't budge.
"Quickly!" he said, "Let's hide in the luggage compartment!I can't get caught, or I'll be expelled, and I sure don't want you around as evidence."
And so Harry, who was in a panic, got up and tried to reach the luggage compartment above his seat on his own. Of course, being only eleven, he couldn't hoist himself up without some help. By the time they had actually managed to agree to help each other in, and then do so, footsteps could already be heard running towards their compartment. Malfoyslid the little luggage door shut.
"Young girl, I don't see anything unusual in here. Are you sure you weren't imagining things?" the voice was old, and stern.
"I...I thought..." this voice undoubtedly belonged to the girl they had seen run away screaming just minutes before.
"Yes, well, you thought wrong." the older person said, "Now get back to your apartment - hurry up! And I want not one more peep out of you kids the rest of the way."
There was a distinct click as the door rolled shut again, and they clambered out of the luggage box, relieved to be out, even if they had been there only a moment.
"Nice going, idiot! You could have gottenme expelled! What were you thinking, throwing a punch at me like that!"
It occurred to Harry briefly that the boy was right - he shouldn't of done that...he hadn't really been thinking at all, actually...but Malfoy had provoked him!
So he punched him again, this time in the stomach. The yelp emitted from the injured boy must have been heard by someone, because the door soon slid open again, and the girl with bushy hair stepped in for the third time in the past five minutes.
"I'm going to report you two!" she said defiantly, raising her nose up in the air.
Malfoy, winded from the punch he had just recieved, struggled to regain his composure.
"No, you won't." he coughed, "You'd get in trouble - we'd disappear again."
The girl glared at him, closing the door behind her.
"You can't disappear!" she said, "There isn't a spell in the school books we were told to get that contains a spell that makes people disappear!"
Harry went to say something, but was cut off by Malfoy.
"Yes, but we're advanced wizards! We know much more than what's in those amateur books! For instance, do you know a spell to make someone go bald?" she stared at him, obviously not wanting to admit that she didn't, "Didn't think so. Now run along, little girl."
When she was gone, Malfoy turned towards him. Whipping out his wand, he pointed it at Harry. Beforehe could react, though, the blond had whispered a few words under his breath and tailed the girl out into the hallway. He nearly bumped into a redheaded boy, who scowled after him and walked into the apartment.
"You don't mind if I stay here with you, do you? The other compartments are full."
HP
And that's the first chapter! I hope it wasn't too short, and too rushed. I honestly just want to get on with the actual story. Nothing more will be said about the first year except for the Sorting, unless I suddenly have a burst of another idea. For a little while, it's just going to be flashes from the years leading up to the sixth year. The third chapter will be when the story truly begins.
Review, please!
And thank you to my friend who reminded me of this fic I was writing! I forgot how much I wanted to get this started, and you brought it up over the phone!