Here is my new story, my female Draco. She does seem a bit Mary-sueish, but she is a Malfoy. I don't think they would settle for her being less than the very best. Hopefully she will still be in character, but also revealing a more understanding and patient feminine side. I hope you guys like!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Darcy Malfoy was ecstatic to be out on her own in Diagon Alley. It was not often that she was allotted any type of freedom. She had spent her entire lifetime being treated as a princess, but with restrictions that would test any child's patience. She had to be lady-like, polite, demure, and intelligent, quick with both wand and wit. Ever since she could remember Darcy had lesson after lesson, schooling her how to dance, play different assorted instruments, sing, speak French, ride horses, embroider, and on and on the list went. Darcy hated every moment of it.

Of course, she grew to enjoy many of the rewards her diligence brought. She was proud of her singing and talent at the violin, adored riding her horse, Betel, and knowing French was very handy when they traveled to Paris on holidays. What she really resented was the cultivation her parents were insisting on instilling in her. She was a Malfoy, and that meant she had to be perfect. She was under no allusion that she was not the child that her parents had wanted. Both her mother and her father had wished for a boy to carry on the Malfoy name, and had gotten Darcy instead. Even her name was a constant reminder of her parents disappointment. Darcy's mother had her heart set on naming her son Draco, but when Narcissa learned that she would be unable to have any more children after her first, she forwent the traditional astrological names and named her daughter the closest female equivalent. Darcy was constantly plagued with the pressures of being as close to perfect as she could in order to make up for the fact that she was not a boy.

Not to say that her parents did not love her. They did. Family was very important to the Malfoy's, and the love they bore one another was quite strong. They just did not often show it, and certainly not in public. But that did not keep Lucius from being wrapped around his little girl's finger. He could never say no to her when her big blue eyes turned up at him. This was how Darcy was able to participate in some of her more un-lady like activities such as flying and Quidditch. Narcissa frowned upon the matter, but conceded when she saw how happy flying made her daughter. It was one of the few freedoms allowed to the young Malfoy heiress.

But now Darcy was preparing to go off to Hogwarts, alone for the first time in her life, away from being under her parents and their rules. Today, Darcy had begged her father to allow her to go get her school robes by herself. He had been hesitant at first but eventually agreed to give Darcy her first taste of responsibility. So when they reached Madame Malkin's, all three of the Malfoy's parted ways. Darcy's father went on down the street to Flourish and Blotts, while her mother agreed to met them at Ollivanders. Darcy herself walked inside the robe shop, allowing Madame Malkin to place her up on a stool and begin taking her measurements.

She soon realized that her first adventure on her own was incredibly boring. They were the only two in the shop. Darcy had assumed that the store would be swimming with Hogwarts students so close to September the first.

Darcy was just getting her robes fitted when the bell on the front door indicated that someone had entered. Madame Malkin got to her feet and went to see the new customers, leaving Darcy standing on the stool like a mannequin. She felt a little annoyed for being left there without a word, and repressed a huff. When the tailor came back, she was escorting a boy with messy black hair, round wire glasses, and clothes that looked three times to big and twice as old.

"Hello. Hogwarts as well?" Darcy asked, attempting to be polite as a small shoot of excitement coursed through her. Perhaps this would be her first friend. Or, her first time making a friend, anyway. Her parents had introduced her to other purebloods her age, and they got along well enough, but for once she wanted to make a friend that her parents had not picked out first.

"Yes." The boy said simply. When he did not speak again, Darcy continued speaking of the first topic that came into her head.

"My father down the street buying my books, and mother is looking at wands." she said before mentally hitting herself in the head. Why on earth had she said that? She had wanted to get away from her parents, not strike up a conversation about them! Darcy hastily recovered by plunging onward, turning the subject to something she enjoyed. "Then I am 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 will ask father to get me one anyway and bring it somehow. Have you got your own broom?" Darcy asked, now realizing that she was rambling on and should probably let him get in a word edgewise.

"No." The boy replied. Darcy held back her frown. It would be difficult to have a proper conversation if he had nothing to contribute.

"Play Quidditch at all?" Darcy prompted.

"No."

This was not going so well. Her first chance at making her own friend and she was failing miserably.

"I do. Father says it will be a crime if I am not picked to play for my house. Know what house you will be in yet?" Darcy asked, moving the subject to one that he might be more interested in.

"No."

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they?" Darcy said, trying to prod him into an answer. "But I know I will be in Slytherin. All our family have been. Imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I would leave wouldn't you?"

The boy gave a non-comital hum. Perhaps she had offended him? Had one of his family been in Huffelpuff? Darcy scrambled yet again for another topic, and found it walking outside the window. The largest man she had ever seen had come into view.

"I say, look at that man!" Darcy said, and he looked over his shoulder to see whom she was referring too.

"That's Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts." the boy spoke up. Darcy looked at him in surprise that he had actually responded to her with more than one word. She felt like cheering at the small victory.

"Oh yes. I have heard of him. He is sort of a servant isn't he?" She tried to remember what she had heard about him from her parents.

"He's the gamekeeper." the boy corrected.

"Yes, exactly. I hear he is a sort of savage." Darcy nodded with growing excitement. "I hear he lives in a hut on the grounds, and every so often tries to do magic and ends up setting things on fire." She was just about to suggest that the two of them go see if the rumors were true once they had both arrived at Hogwarts, but the boy cut her off.

"I think he is brilliant." he said with a frostiness that told her she had offended him again.

"Do you?" Darcy asked nervously, realizing that his knowledge had come from knowing the man personally and not word of mouth. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead."

Darcy was ready to crawl under a rock. Everything she said was wrong!

"Oh, sorry." She said softly in her embarrassment. "Were they like us?"

Darcy wanted to kick herself again. She had just wanted to take his mind off their death, but talking about them was clearly not the best way to do that. Sometimes her mouth just refused to cooperate with her head.

"They were a witch and wizard if that is what you mean."

Darcy grabbed onto the subject of bloodlines with both hands. Anything if it meant that she could stop putting her foot in her mouth by talking about his deceased parents.

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? I mean, they are just not the same, not brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get their letter. Imagine! It would be too hard for them to understand. Hogwarts itself should just stick with the old wizarding families." She rambled. Muggleborns would learn better in a different environment, where there was not so much to distract them or send them into a culture shock. How could they expect to be on the same level? Her godfather, Uncle Sev, had been teaching her the theory behind potions since she could read. "What is your name, anyway?" She asked, realizing that she probably should have asked that first.

"You're all done, my dear." Madame Malkin said, patting her on the shoulder. Darcy frowned, not wanting to leave. She didn't think she made a very good first impression.

"I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose." She said, hopping off the stool. The boy just gave her a nod, and Darcy fled the scene of her humiliation.

...

Darcy left Diagon Alley that day with her entire school list, including her new wand from Ollivanders; Hawthorn and unicorn hair, ten inches and reasonably springy. She loved the way the piece of wood fit into her hand like an old friend, and continued to swish it all the way home. Their house elf by the name of Dobby assisted his young mistress in packing all of her new purchases into her trunk.

"Is yous excited to goes to Hogwarts, Missy Darcy?" He asked her.

"Yes." She said, a bit more heavily than she normally would have.

"What is the matters?"

"Well..." Darcy hesitated, sitting down on the edge of her bed. "I met this boy today, and I thought I could make a friend. You know. On my own. Without help from mother and father. But I completely ruined it! What if I'm no good at making friends at all? What if no one likes me?"

Dobby patted her hands with his small one.

"Oh, Missy Darcy. Yous will have friends. Just bes yourself and nice. Yous a good girl. You will make friends. Dobby assures you."

"I hope you are right, Dobby." Darcy sighed. "I'm just not so sure."