A Pampered Pureblood

Warning: I don't own any of the characters. This story is weird, and will probably contain weird things. There will also be very little real plot beyond the books themselves, and I make no guarantees that characters will stay in-character. Don't read it if you don't like it.

Prologue

"Draco! Come here, Draco! It's potty time!" Narcissa Malfoy called to her toddler son who was playing in their extensive gardens. Draco walked slowly over to his Mummy and looked up at her imposing figure.

"Me no want potty!" Draco told her arrogantly. She looked mildly amused before her neutral face came back and she tutted at him.

"It's potty time Draco, and you are going to use it!" She picked up her now screaming son and carried him indoors and up to one of the many bathrooms in their manor. She knelt down and removed her son's new potty from one of the cupboards and sat him on it. He sat on it for over half an hour with his mother hovering around, stubbornly doing absolutely nothing. Eventually, she relented and let Draco leave.

"We'll try again when he's older." She said to herself then left the room.

"Come on Draco, just go potty. It's easy, just let go!"

Narcissa Malfoy was sitting on the toilet seat watching her son sit stubbornly on his potty refusing to do his business. For the last three weeks she had sat him naked on the potty for thirty minutes waiting for him to go; he never did. The four year old little boy was either too lazy or too attached to his nappies to stop using them. She was really getting to the end of her tether with him.

"Okay, fine." She said, watching her son smirk with triumph. "I give up. You can stay in nappies until you ask to be potty trained." Her son replied simply saying that was never ever going to happen. He was going to wear nappies forever.

She picked him up and laid him down on the changing table and put a new clean nappy on him, sighing as the front almost immediately turned yellow and the back began to bulge. "If you think I'm changing you now you've got another think coming Draco! You can wait a few hours for a new nappy." But Draco didn't care, he was away from the potty and nothing was ever going to make him want to use it.

"Mr. Malfoy! I asked you a question!" The tutor shouted.

"Sorry, sir," Draco, now nine years old, replied sincerely, "I'm just a bit uncomfortable." The tutor looked at him as if to say continue, "My nappy sir, we've been in the lesson for two hours now and it was already wet when we started; it's starting to sting a little."

The tutor rolled his eyes and beckoned Draco over to his desk; there were two tables in the room in total, as Draco – being a pureblood – was home-schooled. The tutor waved his wand making a padded surface appear on top of the desk along with a bag of changing supplies for Draco. "A kid your age in nappies… what is the world coming to?" he muttered under his breath. He quickly picked up his student and laid him down on the desk, and changed the used diaper at speed so as not to miss any more of the lesson.

Draco just smiled throughout; his tutors all changed his nappy when it needed it, and his parents no longer made any attempts to force him into using the potty. It was sometimes uncomfortable wearing a messy nappy, but it was better than having to make a trek to the nearest bathroom every time he felt the need. He knew he was different; he knew that most kids his age didn't wear nappies and hadn't for years. But, he was a Malfoy. And as a Malfoy he had the right to be different and still be respected. Purest of the purebloods, he deserved to have others waiting on him, doing the dirtiest of jobs for him.

He sat back in his seat as the lesson began again. Yes, Draco Malfoy was very content with his life so far.

"Mother! Father! Has it arrived yet?" Draco shouted as he ran through the halls from his bedroom to the family room, where his family was already seated eating breakfast. Today was a very special day; today was Draco's eleventh birthday – a brilliant day because not only would he be getting presents, he would also be receiving his Hogwarts letter!

Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy smiled – well, Narcissa did; Lucius was far too self-important to smile even in front of his own son – as Narcissa held out a small white envelope with the red wax seal of Hogwarts School on the reverse. "Happy birthday, son." She said.

Draco took the envelope joyfully and practically ripped it open and read it through, annoyed when he saw the postscript about first years not being allowed to take a broomstick – depriving a Malfoy of his possessions was a crime! At least, it was as far as Draco's childish mind was concerned. He didn't say anything however, knowing that his Father would likely take offence – he was on the Board of Governors after all, and was probably involved in creating this rule in the first place.

As he re-read through the letter, he did notice that at least one thing was missing. "It doesn't say anything on here about my nappies. Who is going to change me while I'm at Hogwarts?" he asked, frowning as his parents smiled a little victoriously.

"That's completely up to you, Draco," His mother replied calmly, "The Professors know nothing about the fact that you were never potty trained, and we don't intend to tell them – you're the one who chooses to wear them, and it's up to you to find someone to change you whilst at school." Draco gasped.

"But, but…" he blurted out. He couldn't believe what she was saying; it would be so humiliating going to an adult and explaining the first time he soiled himself.

"No buts, Draco. It's up to you to find somebody. You can't change them yourself, that rule is staying in place – I won't have you leaking everywhere, even at Hogwarts. You can either find a student or a professor to do it. After your first year we will consider potty training you if you wish it, but until then this is your responsibility."

Draco closed his mouth abruptly; he had been about to finally give in and allow himself to be potty trained, but that was no longer an option. For the first time ever, Draco wished that he didn't wear nappies.

"Now dear, if you'll just stand on the platform there – that's it, we'll get you fitted up for some robes, shall we?"

Harry Potter was standing on the platform being measured for his robes. He noticed that there was another boy standing next to him being fitted and said hello. The other boy looked at him with an air of superiority, and looked about to just turn away and ignore him when he replied. "Hi, I'm Draco."

"This place is amazing isn't it?" Harry asked, his eyes glinting with excitement. "I only found out I was a wizard the other day… everything's happening so fast!"

Draco snorted, a mudblood no doubt. Damn muggles. "So you're a mudblood then, are you?" He said, taking Harry's silence as a confirmation. "Shame. We could have been friends too." He turned away from the other boy, feeling fear inside him. He was wetting himself; and there was another kid – a mudblood no less – who would undoubtedly make fun of him for it if he found out. He decided that it couldn't hurt to keep talking to him, to keep his mind off of the smell that was now permeating the air.

As it turned out, Harry wasn't interested in talking anymore; and quickly left the shop when Madam Malkin said that he was finished. Draco sighed in relief, his secret was still safe.

September 1st came around far too quickly in Draco's opinion. He watched apprehensively as a house-elf rushed around his room, packing his trunk full with his things. His nappies and other supplies had already been packed in a secret compartment at the side of the trunk, which thankfully his parents had allowed him to keep them in; a small mercy. He was angry with his mother at the moment; she had decided that she was not going to change his nappy that morning, as she wanted him to have an incentive to get his issue sorted immediately when he got to school – by which point he would undoubtedly be extremely messy and want to get it off as soon as possible.

Soon enough he was stepping through the floo and on his way to the Leaky Cauldron, followed closely by his mother who was going to see him off at the station. She was carrying his trunk behind her and the worry was beginning to really get to him now. As they walked down the street from the pub to Kings Cross station he noticed things that in the past he had never noticed before; the slight bulge in his trousers, the slight waddle of his walk, the light crinkling of plastic and the smell of stale wee. He was beginning to face up to the idea that someone was going to find out.

He boarded the train at 10:55am after giving his mother one last goodbye hug, and made his way to the back of the train – hoping that the last compartment would be empty and he would be able to be alone for the journey. It was not to be. There was already somebody in the compartment. Someone who was already against him.

It was the boy from Madam Malkin's. The mudblood.