Authors Note: Well hopefully you all liked my first chapter. It was a little short and sweet, but of course essential. This one you'll hopefully like a lot better, for this is where to plot thickens. I've decided I won't be introducing any unfamiliar characters as of yet, perhaps this will change in the future, but I think perhaps I would prefer to toy with those that J.K Rowling has already given to me.

ginsensu: Haha, yes Draco is a little full of himself, but that is of course what makes him so interesting, not to mention incredibly gorgeous don't you think? Don't you worry though, attitudes will change a lot in the future.

reader101: Well thank you, I enjoyed writing it!

DaOnLeeSam: I'm glad you approve. Hopefully this update was quick enough for you!

Disclaimer: Oh I wish... Oh I wish... Oh I wish I was the Harry Potter author. To be the author oh it would be fun. And if I were the Harry Potter author. I would be a magnificent one.

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Draco descended the steps to the Malfoy's private dining hall. While not much smaller than the dining hall they used to host parties, it was noticably more compacted. This was the place where the Malfoy family spent the most time together. The only time Lucius wasn't away on business or committing an evil act for his beloved Dark Lord, was when the Malfoy family gathered for a meal. Breakfast was always at 8, lunch at 12 and dinner at 7. This schedule had long ago become the only thing left of stability for this shattered remain of a family.

As Draco reached the ground level of the towering mansion, he remembered. He thought back to before he had entered Hogwarts, when Voldemort was still in hiding and his father was still a father. He remembered very vividly how things used to be, he remembered his father teaching him to ride a broom. He was seven at the time.

"No Draco, you cannot simply will yourself to fly, you need to put concentration into this. Now let go of that fear and kick up off the ground."

A few months prior to that time, Draco had fallen from his fathers broom, and after spending a night in St. Mungo's he was not very happy to be back on a broom. While he wanted to fly like all the great Quidditch players he adored, he simply feared such heights since he had taken that fall. His fathers somewhat calming, steady voice came to mind.

"Look, Draco, stop whimpering and just push up, don't do it hard, kick like you're standing on your tip toes."

Draco remembered that day above any other in his memory. It was the only day he could recall that his father had spent completely devoute to him. Draco finally reached his destination and strode into the dining hall to find his mother and father had just sit down to breakfast. He sat to his fathers right, across the table from his mother. He began to fill his plate with bacon and eggs.

"Well, I'm packed and ready to leave. I figure I'll set out once breakfast is finished." Draco stated, gazing towards his mothers line of vision. "I don't think I'll be coming back after graduation..." He averted his gaze.

"Of course you won't. After graduation you'll undoubtably have a task to complete." His father droned in a monotonous tone, not caring to look up from his copy of The Daily Prophet.

Draco cringed at the thought, he knew what kind of task his father meant, and he was not at all looking forward to completing anything of the sort. While he agreed with many of his fathers views and opinions, he had a great distaste for Voldemort and his methods. Draco did not care to enter into his service, now or ever.

"It will be great for you Draco, you will make me so proud." Lucius smiled a crooked grin and looked up at his only son expectantly. Draco swallowed hard.

"I'm sure I will, father."

Draco finished eating his breakfast and got up to leave the table. He exited wordlessly and returned to his room. He looked around one final time, taking in his surroundings. He wondered if he would miss it. He was very fond of this room. It was his sancuary, his haven in times of trouble, a place to escape when he could not handle the pressures of the outside world. He would spend days at a time under the blankets of his massive bed, surrounded by books, allowing himself to be carried off to distant lands, or mesmorising himself with new knowledge. He had a great love for literature, he even had an abundance of great Muggle literature, hidden away of course, for fear of his father gaining knowledge of this fact about his son.

While Draco detested Muggles, he could not help but be amazed by their creativity. He would amuse himself with the many plays written by Shakespeare, or he would laugh at the absurd ideas of great Muggle philosophers such as Aristotle and Socrates and Plato. While Draco knew better than to believe any of these Muggle excuses and theories, he always loved that they could find a "logical" explanation for anything magical.

Draco crossed the floor to the window and lifted up the couch seat embedded into the wall underneath the window sill. There was a storage unit here, and from it he pulled his Muggle books and packed them neatly into his trunk. Now thoroughly satisfied that he had packed away anything of importance he pulled his black Hogwarts robes over his shoulders, the great Slytherin serpant upon his chest and he lifted his trunk.

Draco carried his trunk into the front entrance hall and set it down, he then strode into the parlor and took his owls cage from its stand. Opening the parlor window his whistled in a peircingly high volume. After a few minutes, a magnificent black eagle-owl flew in through the window and landed on Dracos outstretched arm.

Draco adored this owl. He stroked the feathers on the tops of its head before speaking to it.

"Now Dante, we leave, we're never coming back to this hell hole either, isn't that exciting?" Draco smirked before putting the animal in its cage. He was finally ready to leave. Without saying goodbye to his parents, he grabbed a handful of floo powder from a pot beside the fireplace and throwing it into the flames, shouted "Platform 9 and 3/4!" and disappeared in a whirl of green flame.

Draco watched the gates fly past him as Dante cawed in an annoyed tone. The bird would never be used to traveling by fireplace. At long last Draco reached his gate and stepped out of the fireplace. He looked up to see the magnificent scarlet steam engine infront of him. He looked at his wristwatch, 10:30, he had arrived in plenty of time.

Deciding to go ahead and claim a compartment before having to attend to his Head Boy duties, he boarded the train. Dragging his trunk to his usual compartment, he found it already occupied, and of all the people in the world, is was the three he was the most surprised to see. He opened the door.

"This is my compartment." He uttered in a deathly quiet voice.

"What the hell are you on about? We were here first, these compartments aren't assigned." Ron Weasley jumped at the chance for an arguement. This did not phase Draco in the least.

"I've sat in this compartment every year since first, I would appreciate it if you would do be the courtesy to choose another." Draco drawled out.

"Merlin's beard if I'll be doing you a courtesy." Ron retorted, voice dripping with distaste, looking to his best mate as though searching for agreement. Harry Potter nodded, gaze still focused on Draco, a look of utter hatred upon his face.

Draco surveyed the compartment. He looked at each of them as though trying to decide whether to persist or to find another compartment. Weasley's brow was bent in anger, this amused Draco to no end, knowing how easily he could bother the gingerheaded boy. Harry's expression was of pure malice, it almost worried Draco, knowing he was the target of that anger. Though he did not voice nor show it, he respected Harry Potter deeply. Draco would not deny that his long time enemy was powerful, nor that he had the guts of a lion.

Draco shifted his gaze to the third person in the room. Almost completely hidden behind a book, chocolate brown eyes stared back at him. Then, it a rather quiet voice, she spoke.

"You're welcome to stay here, but we aren't leaving."

Draco couldn't believe it! She was toying with him. He continued to stare at her. He didn't know how to respond to that. Alright, he thought. If she's going to toy with him, he might as well play along. He threw his trunk in the overhead compartment and took the seat beside her.

He looked contemplatively at each of them again before pulling a book out of his bag and beginning to read. This would be an interesting journey.

Harry and Ron looked from Draco to Hermione, to one another. Confused, Ron shrugged.

Hermione, astonished at what was happening before her, decided it best not to say anything. She watched as Draco read his book, he looked contemplative, as though searching for the answer to a particularly troubling question. She could not help but to notice how gorgeous his blue-grey eyes really were. She was mesmorized, watching them dance back and forth as he followed the words on the paper. He glanced up at her from his book and realizing she had been watching him, he winked.

Startled, Hermione hid behind her copy of Hogwarts, A History and blushed.