A/N: I apologise for the end of the chapter, it gets a little too dramatic and clichéd. But the explanation needed to be there...
Disclaimer: I do not own anything, none of the characters, none of the places. Not even a wand.
Draco lay on his bed and thumbed through the latest Nimbus catalogue. His day shopping in Diagon Alley hadn't been completely wasted, even if he hadn't managed to convince his father to buy him a racing broom. He'd got his mother onto that, and he could already hear her voice coming up the spiral staircase and through his bedroom door ...Draco's not a little boy anymore, he's eleven, he's old enough, and responsible enough to have a new racing broom, and have you seen the state of his old one... He was sure his father would give in eventually.
He looked over at his new wand lying on his bedside table. A wand. His wand. His first wand, and in a couple of weeks he would be heading off on the Hogwarts express, heading off to start his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His new robes, his school robes were already hanging neatly in his wardrobe, and a pile of brand new, unused school books stood next to the new green and silver trunk in the corner of his room.
He was growing up; even his mother had to admit it. In fact, judging from how she was going on at his father, she had admitted it at last.
Draco flipped through another couple of pages, but he wasn't really paying much attention to them. He was busy imagining himself at Hogwarts, walking into the Slytherin common room for the first time, surrounded by the people he had grown up with, Vincent, Greg, even Pansy Parkinson, who had started to get really annoying the last time her family had visited Malfoy Manor. He could picture the great hall in his head; his mother had described it to him so many times, and could imagine the great feast on the first night appearing on the four long tables.
He just couldn't wait.
Glancing over at the silver glass-faced clock hanging on his bedroom wall, Draco saw that the single hand was now pointing towards the word 'dinner'. Sighing, he tucked his catalogue onto the shelf beside his bed and walked towards his bedroom door. Once there, he stopped, and looked back at his wand lying there enticingly on the table. He'd have to get used to carrying it with him at all times, the way students did at Hogwarts. Grinning, he dashed back, snatched up the wand, and continued on out the door and down the stairs.
...
Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy, was sitting at the head of the table. Draco slid into his accustomed place opposite his mother, grinning at her as he did so. He had been able to hear her nagging and wanted her to know he was grateful. Even glancing through the Nimbus catalogue had made him so much more aware of all the amazing brooms out there that he was missing out on. There'd been one broom he'd seen in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies earlier today, it was said to be the fastest model yet. Just the mere thought of the Nimbus Two Thousand made him drool. He hoped that it would be the broom he would get.
Draco's father clapped his hands and Dobby, the family house-elf staggered into the dining room carrying a silver dish almost as big as he was. Narcissa smiled at Draco, "I thought that, to celebrate the purchasing of your first wand, we'd have a 'Hogwarts' dinner. Just so you know what to expect once you get there."
Lucius smiled also, though in a more calculating sort of way, "And once we've eaten, Draco, I have a ...proposition I'd like to put to you." Draco looked nervously towards his mother, but she smiled encouragingly, so looking back towards his father he said "Thank you father." Smiling more naturally, Lucius then leaned forward and whipped the cover off the enormous silver dish saying as he did so, "Now, shall we eat?"
...
After dinner Draco felt as if he had eaten a whole horse. There had been so much food, roast beef, roast chicken, roast potatoes, roast apples, lamb chops, pork chops, sausages, salads... If that was what he was to expect at Hogwarts it would be a wonder if his new robes still fit by the end of the first term.
He looked towards his father "You wanted to speak to me father?" Lucius leaned towards him "I did, would you care to join me in my study?" then, seeing the look on Draco's face, he added "Don't worry, you're not in trouble, indeed, quite the opposite, in fact..."
Smiling smugly, Draco followed his father out of the dining room and into Lucius's office where they sat down, facing each other across the big, oak desk.
"Now Draco," started Lucius, "I know this is a lot to entrust to an eleven year old, but you must hear me out. I'm sure you know of the event that happened ten years ago, when the Dark Lord was vanquished by a mere baby."
Draco nodded. He did know. It would be hard not to.
"Well, what you don't know is that we still have no idea how The Boy Who Lived managed to survive while the Dark Lord was destroyed. But we have some theories. There are some of us who feel that this boy, this Harry Potter could only have survived by being in possession of magic even stronger, even darker than that used by the Dark Lord. There are some of us who feel that, should the boy possess the same ...sentiments as us, we should use him as a standard to rally around, to regain the power we lost all those years ago, to further the Dark Lord's noble cause. Unfortunately, Dumbledore has had the boy hidden away, so we have no idea of his feelings towards us, or the cause. And that is where you come in, Draco."
Draco, who had been listening to his father's story, his eyes growing wider with every word, seemed to shake himself "Me? What can I do?"
"We are very lucky to have you Draco. You also know how I am on the school board of Hogwarts?"
Draco nodded again.
"Well last week Dumbledore revealed to the board that this year, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will be blessed with the presence of Harry Potter himself. He has turned eleven and is old enough to go to school. Just like you. Now do you see where you come in Draco?"
Once again, Draco nodded, "I think so."
Lucius smiled. "Your job Draco, is to get to know the Potter boy. Talk to him; find out if he is suitable for our needs. Get him to trust you, if possible. Dumbledore has kept him hidden from the wizarding community so he will have had little, if any, contact with wizards. You should find him on the train before others do, teach him about the houses, tell him about Slytherin, nudge him in the right direction. If he gets sorted into Slytherin house, well then, we will know that he is likely to be susceptible. We need this Draco. We grow tired of sucking up to muggle-lovers like that old fool Dumbledore. We need someone like Potter, someone who we can rally around, someone who will draw in more followers, and it will be your job to see whether he will be suitable for our needs. Can you do this? We need you Draco."
Draco looked up, his eyes seeming to shine. Suddenly all his fantasizing over racing brooms seemed very juvenile indeed. "I can do this – I will do this. Thank you father, thank you for your trust. I will do my best. I will not let you down."
Lucius Malfoy stood up and walked over to his son and stood looking down at him. "Draco. It is I who should be thanking you."