A/N: First Harry Potter fanfiction, be nice. Malfoy's always been one of my favourite characters, and not because I think he's a truly good person hidden under a hard exterior - I think he's a genuinely bad person who will only redeem himself by doing anything for his family and the ones he actually cares about - which is basically only his family.

Malissa and Sara are mine - everyone else isn't.

X~*~X

Narcissa Malfoy watched her son as he dragged the brush through her long, pale blonde hair, gently brushing the knots out of it. He looked like he was trying to concentrate, and she knew that he was simply trying not to pull at the knots of the day that had settled in her long tresses.

Draco was twelve, now, and his resemblance to her was starting to fade, changing into a resemblance to his father. Lucius was handsome, and she knew Draco would also be handsome once he matured, if only he could stop looking so haughty and arrogant. She sighed.

'Sorry, Mother,' Draco apologised, pulling the brush through an unusually thick clump of knots. He had thought he had hurt her.

This was a daily routine of theirs, Draco brushing his mother's hair before she braided it and then tucked him into bed. She had thought that on e he began school, he would consider himself too old for the ritual, but Draco had always loved their little "rituals", as Narcissa had come to call them - walking through the sprawling gardens of their manor, eating lunch on the terrace at one o'clock, and this, brushing her hair before bedtime. Narcissa's hair had once been far too long for her to reach it all easily, and Draco, only a young boy back then, had taken up her brush and started helping. It had been rough going at first, but e had learned an important lesson in being gentle and even to this day, followed that lesson.

At least, he followed it with her.

Narcissa looked at her son in the mirror. His first year at Hogwarts had change him slightly. He sneered at the staff more readily, and she didn't doubt that their recent mutterings about "reckless mischief" had something to do with him. But, as with any mother, she blinded herself to his faults. He was twelve, after all, and twelve year old boys were bound to get up to mischief. So long as nobody got hurt...

Draco set the silver-backed brush on the dressing table and separated Narcissa's hair into three bunches, before weaving the three together - over, under, over, under...

'Draco,' Narcissa said his name gently, but he looked up sharply, as though expecting to be chastised for some sort of wrong-doing. Lucius was too hard on him sometimes. 'I've a favour to ask of you,'

'Anything, Mother,'

Narcissa looked at him in the mirror, found he had paused in braiding and was looking at her warily.

'Do you remember the Traverss?' She asked, and Draco nodded slowly, so she continued, 'Do you remember their daughter, Malissa?'

'Of course,'

Yes, of course. How could he forget that girl - even now, Narcissa could recall her first memory of the girl, her long brown plait swinging wildly as she told them Draco was hurt. Heart in mouth, Narcissa had raced to her son's aid only to find him sleeping deeply. After rousing him, they had asked what had caused him to sleep, and he had simply replied 'I don't remember'x, while looking around. He had been five then.

There was something odd about the way the Traverss had brushed it off as simple child's play, something that had made her mistrusting of them despite their pure lineage. The mother, Sara, had been considerably more distressed about the matter, however, and had formally apologised to Narcissa upon their next meeting.

'Malissa is starting school this year,' Narcissa told him, 'Sara worries, so I have assured her that you will help her where you can. You will try, won't you?'

'Of course, Mother,' Draco replied, looking far more relieved, in Narcissa's opinion.

Of course, she had no idea why Sarah was so concerned. It was, after all, Hogwarts - students may injure themselves but there had been no deaths at the school for around fifty years.

They met in Diagon Alley prior to the start of the school term, and Narcissa, who had not seen Sara or Malissa in five years, was slightly startled by how thin the elder was looking. Malissa had only been small at the time, and hadn't appeared to grow much. Her hair had darkened, but it was still tied back in a braid that fell halfway down her back, and Sara's blue eyes peered back at her from her angular, lightly tanned face.

'Draco,' she said, placing a hand on his shoulder, 'This is Malissa,'

'You remember Draco and Mrs Malfoy, don't you?' Sara asked Malissa. She nodded, eyeing Draco carefully as if sizing him up. She smiled nervously at Draco, who hesitated, then returned the gesture.

'Have you finished your shopping for the day?' Narcissa asked Sara conversationally. Sara smiled politely.

'We were planning to go to Eeylops before leaving,' she replied, 'Malissa will need her own owl, of course, living so far from home,'

'Draco,' Narcissa called Draco's attention back to them; he had been watching a group of people meander by, 'Why don't you go and help Malissa choose a suitable owl?'

Draco eyed the girl up and down, then gestured. 'Come on, then,'

She was short, even for her age, and had to half-run to keep up with him as he strode up the alley towards the shop. He could only faintly remember the last time they'd met - he had spent most of the time avoiding her. After their first... unusual encounter, he had always been wary of her, uncertain about being left alone with her. She seemed to be better, now though.

'What's Hogwarts like?' she asked softly. Draco glanced down at her, to see she was taking three steps to his one, and reluctantly slowed his pace.

'It's big,' he replied, 'And full of idiots. What kind of owl do you want?'

They had reached Eeylops' Owl Emporium, and several large barn owls peered at them from their cages. Malissa eyed them warily.

'Nothing too big,' she replied, 'Something little, but not too little because I send lots of letters.'

Draco stood back while she looked at all the different owls, pausing in front of a handsome screech owl, hesitating while looking at a small pygmy owl.

'That won't carry post very far,' he warned her as she reached out to stroke a Scops owl through the bars of it's cage, 'They're usually only used for local letters.'

'What about this one?' she asked, scurrying through the crowded shop to look at what appeared to be an empty cage. A large, thick piece of branch stood in the middle, and Draco wondered if for a moment, the girl was seeing things. She stuck her fingers through the bars of the cage, rattling it slightly, and what Draco had first assumed to be a branch ruffled its feathers and opened a pair of bright, yellow eyes and peered at them.

'It looks ugly,' Draco told her, spotting a similar-sized eagle owl, 'Here's one that is suitable,'

'I like this one,' Malissa told him indignantly, as the shopkeeper wended his way towards them.

'You like that one, eh?' he asked, eyeing the bird, 'Well, it's technically not an owl, but we just got a few of them in from Australia, and most witches and wizards there say their intelligence makes up for their looks.'

'We don't want it,' Draco told the shopkeeper, indicating the eagle owl, 'How much for this one?'

'I don't want that one,' Malissa told him, 'I want this one,'

'Hardly anyone has these at school,' he told her impatiently, 'Think of the impression you'd give off,'

'I bet nobody at school has one of these, though,' she responded, turning to the assistant, 'Have you sold any of these to Hogwarts students?'

'Haven't sold any, yet,' the shopkeeper replied, 'Granted, they're not much to look at, and that's what keeps most people away,'

'Then I'll take it,' Malissa said defiantly. Draco made an impatient noise, and she looked at him, before shrugging, 'It's different, and people won't think it can do anything it can do,'

'You sound like a Hufflepuff,' Draco said snidely, as the shopkeeper collected the cage and started for the counter. Malissa scowled.

'I do not,'

'You do, too,' he reassured her, smirking, 'I bet, when you put the sorting hat on, it'll say Hufflepuff straight away.'

Malissa's scowl deepened, and she opened her mouth to give an angry retort, but the shopkeeper called out to her. Throwing one last, disgusted look at Draco, she headed for the counter and began counting out her money.

Draco walked as quickly as possible to return to his mother, to avoid being seen with Malissa. Two other young students stopped and goggled at her as she tried to keep up, carrying the cage with her. He paused just short of them, to let her catch up, and snatched the cage off her before either of the women could see him walking alone.

'Oh, what an interesting bird,' Narcissa commented as they approached, but Draco could tell that she didn't like it at all.

'I suggested an eagle owl, like my own,' he told her, 'But she insisted on this one,'

'It's an interesting owl, certainly,' Sara noted, taking the cage from Draco, 'Thank you for carrying it,'

'Yeah, thanks, Draco,' Malissa sneered, clearly annoyed at him. Draco thought she would get over it.

Narcissa and Sara continued talking for what felt like forever, and he continued to ignore Malissa's murderous glares that she kept giving him. He spotted a group of familiar redheads entering a shop, and looked up at his mother.

'We haven't been to Flourish and Blotts yet,' he reminded her casually, 'Shall I go ahead?'

'Of course,' Narcissa waved, 'I forgot to mention, your father will be in there, somewhere,'

'I expect we'll be seeing you tomorrow,' Sara said, smiling at Draco, who nodded curtly.

'Until tomorrow, then,'

'Bye, Draco,' Malissa sneered again, but this time her mother cuffed her around the head.

'Show some manners, Malissa,'

Malissa, now rubbing the back of her head, scowled slightly, but then her expression smoothed, 'Good bye, Draco. Thank you for helping me choose my owl,'

Draco was unnerved by her sudden change of tone - especially the way she had almost sung the words, but he had no time to think of that. Instead, he sped towards Flourish and Botts, intent on getting in a few jibes at the Weasley children before his father found him.