Pintos and I have decided to start writing a Drarry FanFic together.
So here's the first chapter. :D
We're still deciding on a title that will properly fit, so be prepared to seeing it change.
Summary: Starting with Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy's 4th Year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, this story follows the events that slowly tie the two schoolyard enemies together, at first as friends and eventually as something more. How will the two wizards react to their developing relationship? Will it survive the test the many challenges and obstacles pose?
Warnings: Slash, Language, Mature Themes.
(I'm saying this once, and once only, here at the very beginning:)
WE OWN AND MAKE ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J. K. R.
The morning sun shone brilliantly through the many windows of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, blinding the crowd of students hurrying up the stairs from their Potions classroom in the dungeons. Gratuitously greeting the warmth of the sunlight, they left the freezing chill of the dungeons behind them.
"Professor Snape bloody hates me," a red-haired forth year complained. Another 4th year, obviously one of his friends since they were walking together towards their next class, rolled her eyes. She shook her head to rid her face of the tendrils of hair that clung to it as a gentle breeze blew her long, brown, wavy hair into her face.
"What?" the red-head snorted, having seen his companion's reaction.
"Nothing, Ronald," she sighed. "He does not hate you. He just… You aren't the world's best student, you know."
"Why, thank you, Hermione!" Ron retorted sarcastically, glaring at her.
"Cut it out guys," the third distracted forth year cut in. He had jet black hair that was always tousled and untamable, no matter how much anyone tried to brush and fix it. Beneath the locks that covered his forehead was a famous lightning bolt scar. To most people he was known as the Chosen One, or The Boy Who Lived, but to the two people walking to Charms class with him, his two best friends, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, he was just Harry Potter.
Harry's mind wandered over the events of the past few days back at Hogwarts. They had been utterly terrifying, now that he thought about them clearly. The first night there, he had been rather excited and overly ecstatic about being back; he had actually been looking forward to the drawing of names out of the Goblet of Fire for the tournament that Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster, had announced during his annual welcoming speech. The second day had made a drastic turn for the worst when he had been applauding the people already participating in the Tri Wizard Tournament and suddenly had heard his name being called, making him the contestant from Gryffindor.
Everyone in the entire school had looked at him with utmost disdain as he made his way, half stumbling and completely shocked, to the front of the Great Hall, pointedly avoiding all gazes from his peers and the professors, Dumbledore and McGonagall included. He remembered clearly the events that had followed the drawing; being called into Dumbledore's office, the concerned objections and glances from Professor McGonagall, being told there was no way to get out of the tournament… And now he had to deal with his peer's disgusted gazes and professors' worried glances; they obviously thought he had thrown his name into the goblet himself. How the hell was he supposed to do a think like that? Why would he do something like that?
Harry forced himself to suddenly snap out of his half-daze.
Realizing they were lagging behind the rest of the class, the trio moved a little bit faster and managed to reach the Charms classroom before their teacher, Professor Flitwick arrived. Scanning the room for an open seat, Ron groaned when he saw the only seats that were empty were in the row in front of a certain blonde-haired Slytherin and his two 'bodyguards'.
"Oh, great," Harry muttered under his breath as they walked over to the empty seats.
"Who have we got here?" the blonde haired forth year sneered upon seeing the three Gryffindors approaching. "Potty, Weasel-bee, and the Mudblood, what a surprise."
"Shut your face, Malfoy," Ron growled, the only of the trio that was still provoked easily enough to voice their frustration and hatred whenever Draco Malfoy felt the need to annoy them with his snide remarks, even after four years.
"Hush!" Hermione snapped, instantly silencing Ron, as Professor Flitwick, an extremely short man with a moustache and dark brown hair, entered the classroom. The noise quieted down immediately when the man stepped up on his pile of books stacked behind his podium at the front of the classroom.
"Good morning, class!" Flitwick greeted his students cheerily.
Ron grumbled something under his breath about Malfoy being a nasty little git, which was inaudible to everyone but Harry and Hermione, who elbowed him hard in the side under the table.
Harry turned his attention towards the professor, blocking the silent bickering between his two friends caused by Ron's continuing comments about Draco. Ron honestly didn't know how Hermione could be so polite and just ignore the blonde whenever he called her names, especially 'Mudblood'. Harry on the other hand had noticed the way Hermione took deep breathes every time Draco provoked her to effectively calm herself down.
"Today, class," Flitwick began, "I have prepared something very special for you to celebrate the Tri Wizard Tournament."
A mumble spread through the crowded room of students and all of the eyes in the classroom save for Ron and Hermione's, wandered over to where Harry sat. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, hating to be reminded of the mysterious way his name had been drawn out of the Goblet of Fire. He was sure he hadn't placed his name in the goblet… Nor had he had anyone else do it for him. Why would he? He couldn't risk his life for some stupid Tournament when the entire world was counting on him to defeat the Dark Lord, Voldemort, who had disappeared and was still to be found (not that anyone wanted to find him).
"In honor of the previous winners," Flitwick quickly continued, relieving Harry of the weight of those gazes, "You are going to research each of the winners and the charms that they used throughout the tournament, and master one of them."
The students glanced at each other, eyes lighting up with delight. Their Charms assignments were usually mind numbingly boring.
"There is one condition though," the professor began slowly, looking each of the students in the eye sternly, "You are not allowed, under any circumstances, to learn any of the Forbidden Curses or overly harmful spells."
"Now!" the short professor clapped his hands together, immediately changing the dark mood that had suddenly spread over the classroom, "I shall pass out the books with all the information in them that you will need."
Flitwick hopped down from his stack of precariously stacked books and began to search through another pile that was stacked up against the wall.
"It seems I have forgotten the books!" Flitwick turned around. "I will return in a minute with them! Don't become rowdy while I'm gone."
Without another word, the professor hurried out the door and down the corridor.
"So, Scarhead," Malfoy sneered. "Are you scared of dying during the Tournament yet?"
"Piss off, Malfoy," Ron snapped.
"Don't you dare talk to me, Weasley," the Slytherin hissed with as much venom as a snake.
"You know what you are, Malfoy? You're a filthy, disgusting little git. I bet if you didn't always have bloody Crabbe and Goyle around," Ron gestured at the blonde's 'posse', "You wouldn't be half as arrogant as you are."
"What was that, Weasley?" Draco growled, clenching his fists, ready to stand up and punch Ron at any given moment.
"Shut the hell up, Draco," Harry interjected shooting daggers at the Slytherin. "You, too, Ron."
"Watch your language, Harry," Hermione cut in.
"Yeah, Potter," the blonde sneered. "Listen to the Mudblood. Watch your language."
Harry clenched his teeth. He didn't have time to argue and worry about Malfoy with everything else that was currently going on. He turned back around to face the front of the dusty classroom and concentrated on a nonexistent stain on the far wall. Ron opened his mouth to say something but was silenced by Hermione yanking him back around to face the front like Harry and gave him the death glare.
The trio let out a relieved sigh when Professor Flitwick came back, levitating about twenty books, each of them bigger than his torso, and distributing them to each table.
"You are to work in groups of three," he instructed after every table had a book. "Each and every one of you should be working, and not allowing only one of the people in your group to do all of the work. Aim at having picked out one of the champions of the Tri Wizard Tournament by the end of today's class, and, if at all possible, have already started examining the spells they used. You should have mastered the spell by the end of the week."
When the class was sure that the professor was finished giving instructions, the students turned to their partners and began talking, some about things other than the work they were supposed to be doing. Harry had an uneasy feeling that he could sense eyes trained on him, and thought he could hear some of his classmates whispering things about him.
But then again, that could just be my paranoia, Harry thought.
"So," Hermione began, pulling Harry out of his paranoid thoughts. "Shall we get started?"
Harry gave a thankful nod and glanced at Ron, who was grimacing, clearly still furious at the Slytherin sitting behind them and in pain because of Hermione's method of 'shutting him up'.
The rest of the lesson was extremely awkward for Harry; he kept feeling angry eyes on him from the row behind him. If it hadn't been for Hermione's unbreakable concentration on the task at hand, which seemed like some kind of highly contagious disease that was infecting both him and Ron, Harry thought he might have snapped and ran out of the classroom.
Finally, after Professor Flitwick dismissed the class, Harry let out a deep breath.
"I'm going to the library to work on this Charms work," Hermione began.
"Hermione!" Ron complained. "We have all week to do it!"
"Well, I'm going to get it done as soon as possible so I can concentrate on mastering the spell we're supposed to learn," the girl snapped, slightly agitated. "So are you two coming with?"
"Ugh! Fine," Ron sighed, deciding to tag along with Hermione.
"Harry?" Hermione asked, wondering what was on the young wizard's mind to keep him so preoccupied. She had noticed him staring off into space several times that day already.
"Hmm?" Harry looked up at the two, eyebrows raised slightly. "Oh! I'm not coming. I'm going to… to go for a walk. Clear my mind, you know? I'll see you back in the Common Room."
Without another word or waiting for a reply, Harry waved shortly, turned, and walked off, leaving Hermione and Ron staring after him. Hermione shook her head, deciding that if whatever it was that was on Harry's mind was important enough to tell them, he definitely would. He always did.
"Come on, Ron. Let's head over to the library."
"Alright," the red-head grumbled, also wondering what was wrong with Harry.
It was a crisp autumn day. The sky was baby blue and cloudless. The cool wind blew the colourful leaves across the school grounds. Harry tucked his head further into his golden-maroon patterned scarf and hurried along, glad that he was the only person wandering around outside at the moment. He didn't know where he was going to walk to, considering the weather. For a minute he contemplated heading over to Hagrid's hut, but decided against it. He wanted to be alone for a little while.
Several minutes of brisk walking later Harry was drawing near the Quidditch field he had come to love. He looked up at the towers in the alternating colour patterns of each of the respective houses towering over him, seemingly welcoming him. Harry didn't stop walking until he reached the center of the field and gazed at the far goals before turning around to look at the goals at the other end of the field.
Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the moment and forgetting about his recently developed problems.
Suddenly feeling an angry presence approaching, the black haired forth year turned to see who was coming (though he had a pretty good idea who that person might be, considering the events that had conspired in Charms). Turning his head to the side, Harry saw a fuming Draco Malfoy striding towards him
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry spat, his almost pleasant and relaxed mood immediately changing to hostility.
"Filthy Potter," the Malfoy heir spat, visibly fuming, his face contorted in a nasty snarl. "You think you're the Chosen One? You're a disgrace to the Wizarding World! Everyone expects you to kill You-Know-Who, but you couldn't hurt a fly."
"You're an arrogant arse, Malfoy," Harry spat back with just as much hatred as Draco had just insulted him with.
"At least I didn't cheat to get into the Tri Wizard Tournament," the blonde's glare was unrelentingly staring holes into Harry's head.
"My father and I have a bet going, you see," Draco began before Harry could send out a retort, walking slowly closer to him, causing the Gryffindor to back away reflexively. "I say you won't last ten minutes."
Draco paused, as if to accentuate the point he was about to make, continuously walking steadily closer to Harry, who continued to back up further trying to avoid coming into contact with the blonde. "My father disagrees. He says you won't last five!"
The boy's eyes danced with dark amusement, and Harry had to compose himself enough to stop seeing red and snarl at Malfoy.
"For your information, Malfoy," he spat the name, "I didn't put my name in that damn-"
Harry was cut off by his sudden impact with the side of one of the towers at the edge of the Quidditch field; he hadn't realized how far he had backed up until that moment. The Slytherin smirked, triumphantly towering over the shorter boy.
"Well look at this… I cornered the great Harry Potter," Suddenly Draco slammed his hands down against the side of the tower on either side of the Gryffindor's head, causing the latter to flinch away slightly.
"Get off me, you filthy ferret," Harry tightened his hands into fists, itching to punch the other boy in the face as hard as he could.
"Why should I?" Draco pressed himself up against the black-haired boy and whispered in his ear, causing Harry to shiver and shrink away in disgust.
"Get off of me," Harry snarled, replacing the fear that had caused him to shudder seconds ago with rage.
"Why?" He repeated. Harry could hear Draco smirking, obviously having achieved his goal of intimidating him.
"Malfoy, get the hell off of-"
"Flipendo!" the Slytherin was thrown backwards as the spell hit him, sending him sprawling. Harry's head snapped to the side and stared, wide-eyed and relieved, at his two best friends, who were running across the field towards him. Hermione still had her wand raised and pointed at Draco, anger flaring up in her eyes, when they made it there.
"You filthy Mudblood, I'll get you for this. How dare you-"
"Stupefy!" Ron shouted, temporarily knocking the blonde, who had scrambled back to his feet and began stalking towards the three, out. He grinned for a split second before turning back to Harry.
"Thanks guys," Harry smiled sheepishly at Ron and Hermione, thankful that he had such wonderful best friends.
"Let's get out of here before he gets back up," the redhead gestured towards Malfoy lying on the muddy ground with an obvious look of disgust.
Half an hour later the trio was sitting in the Great Hall, lost in conversation. They had been the first to get there for dinner and had been completely unaware of the other students slowly dribbling into the Hall for their evening meal. They were heatedly debating why Hermione had chosen the only female champion of the Tri Wizard Tournament in history their Charms project.
"But, Hermione-"
"What, Ron? Are you sexist or something?" Hermione snapped back at the redhead, visibly irritated at her friend's criticism of her well thought out choice.
"Ron, just drop it," Harry sighed defeatedly. Unlike Ron, who continued to argue with her every time he didn't agree with her decisions and logic, Harry had learned over the past years at Hogwarts that it was no use arguing with Hermione once she had her mind set on something. Ron glared at his best friend, feeling betrayed.
"So now you're on her side, are you?"
"I said drop it, Ron," Harry half-heartedly growled, not wanting to argue with anyone any longer.
"Honestly, Ronald, I don't see why you have to argue every time-"
Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall flew open, startling most of the students out of their easy going conversations and causing them to stare at the angry figure striding furiously through the doors. Some of the students raised an eyebrow while others snickered at the sight of a muddy Draco Malfoy fuming and stalking towards the Gryffindor table, eyes searching for someone in specific.
Several more eyebrows were raised as more students realized that the Slytherin's destination appeared to be the three seats where the Golden Trio were seated, now staring at Malfoy intently with unreadable faces. Ron shrunk back into his seat slightly when Draco reached the three and raised his fist as if to punch him square in the jaw when a snarling, familiar nasal voice spoke, stopping him.
"Mister Malfoy, if you would please lower your fist and go to your own house's table. Also, clean your robes. You are dirtying the floors of the school."
For once Harry was relieved that Severus Snape, the school's Potions Master, had interrupted. The Malfoy heir sneered disgustedly at the three Gryffindors before stomping silently over towards the Slytherin table, shooting several smirking and snickering students a menacing glare on his way, immediately silencing them and making them turn back around to face their housemates. Several minutes later, the usual comfortable noise of conversation flooded the Great Hall as if nothing had ever happened.
No one, not even the Golden Trio, noticed the mixture of nasty glares and unreadable looks of mild disgust Draco Malfoy was sending the three Gryffindors.
Review please! We'd love to know what you think.
Reviews also get us writing faster.
Note: Updates on this story will most likely be slower than on my other story, Reverse Psychology, as that is my priority at the time. That doesn't mean that there won't be updates on this story, though! Especially if I (we) know that people are reading and reviewing.