For warnings and disclaimer see prologue.

This chapter's probably sloppy. It hasn't been beta-read. But it's probably worse than the other chapters. sorry :(

The Antagonist

chapter two - Hello Sunshine

by HairoM

.o.O.O.o.

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand dare sieze the fire?

.o.O.O.o

He felt ridiculous. It was still hard to believe that he had actually agreed to do this. Draco looked at the sky-it was nice and blue for the beginning of September. He lowered his gaze back to the group of kids in front of him. They were about fourty, and they looked so small! He didn't remember himself being so small at their age. They stared up at him in wonder, some in anxiety and others in awe. Draco smirked.

"Good morning," he greeted them and recieved faint replies in return which widened his smirk even more. "My name is Draco and I'll be your Flying Instructor." He felt utterly foolish. What in Merlin's pants was he doing here, teaching some brats how to fly? Well, it wasn't like he had any other options how to spend his time.

"There's no need to be nervous," he said, although he kind of liked their fearful expressions. They knew who he really was, of course. They couldn't not know. After all, the murder of Narcissa Malfoy took the front page in the Daily Prophet. Draco didn't expect them to like him, and their fear of him didn't bother him at all. He rather enjoyed it. A little fear harmed nobody. "I see there are Gryffindors and Slytherins here," he continued. "I'm pleased to meet you all. Now take a stand beside your brooms!" Reaction was immediate. The students broke out of the semi-circle they were standing in and rushed to do as he commanded. For a moment Draco enjoyed a chaos of green and scarlet and then it was quiet once again. They stood in a perfect line, very much like guards greeting their lord. Guards and a lord... he was suddenly reminded of his previous life. He had always enjoyed taunting the guards and making them chase him around the castle. Well, the lower ranking guards, anyway. He mentally shook his head and refocused on his students.

How should he start? He wasn't a teacher and he had no idea what to do. What should he say? Will they even listen to him? He took a deep breath.

Maybe he should just... talk to them.

"Ok. Before I begin, I have a question for you," he said. They stared at him. "What do you know about flying in general?" Yes that was a good start. No one answered, just stared, as if each one of them was wondering the same thing: is he mental? The silence was awkward and Draco reprimanded himself for his stupid idea. He was trying to think of a way to not make himself look utterly foolish when he heard it. The voice was so small he almost missed it, and it was nervous but he heard it. "...way to move from place to place..." Draco could have kissed the little girl right there and then! She looked as nervous as she sounded, playing with her fingers and touching her hair the whole time, but she looked up at Draco and he saw determination in those blue eyes. He thought she deserved a smile so he gave her an ancouraging one.

"That is correct! Miss..."

"Um... it's Vela Ashford, sir." was the mumbled reply.

"Very well," Draco turned to the rest of the class. "Miss Ashford's words are right. Flying is indeed a way to transport oneself from one place to another. That is the basic and initial purpose for flying. But," he looked at them all, "can't we also derive pleasure from flying?" a few of them nodded. It seemed that at least some of them were encouraged by Vela's courage and a boy said from the end of the line: "we have Quidditch..."

"Yes," Draco said with a smile, "we have Quidditch. And isn't it fun?" more students nodded this time, most of them boys, and even dared smiling at him. "It's fun, isn't it?" Draco continued in amusement. "Which means flying isn't just a way for moving around, it is also a way to have fun. Am I correct?" affirmative nods. "I'm going to guide you how to have fun on your brooms. It may seem easy, but it isn't." Someone snorted and the other students gasped, horrified. But Draco smirked. "Oh, so you think otherwise?" he asked the boy. He was chubby and pink and wore an arrogant look on his face. "Well, duh!" the boy said. "All you have to do is get on the thing and fly!" There was a tense silence afterwards. No one dared talking or moving in fright. No one knew what a murderer could do to them and no one was stupid enough to try and find out. well, no one except for that stupid boy. Draco approached the kid slowly, enjoying the expression of fear on the kid's face, as each step he took brought them closer, untill finally Draco was towering over the boy. He smirked when the boy took an unconscious step back. "What is your name?" he asked. The boy's eyes were round as saucers when he answered in a squeaky voice: "I-Ian Badrick, s-sir!"

"Ian Badrick," Draco smirked. "If you already know how to fly, why don't you demonstrate for us all?"

"S-sir?"

"Well, Ian? Go on. I'm sure you'll do great."

"I-I don't want to, sir." Ian gulped nervously.

"Don't be shy Ian. Now get on your broom and show us how easy it is to fly." Draco was merciless. He won't tolerate insolence in his classes. The kids watched with anxiety as Ian, left with no other choice, mounted his broom and took a deep breath. He gave Draco a nervous glance before kickng the ground. The broom jerked upwards but other than that, did nothing. Some kids giggled and Ian sat there on his broom, feet on the ground and looking confused. It did seem so easy! What was there to know, really? He just had to... to what? His confusion, combined with the humiliation he felt made him angry and he tried again. This stime he managed to float several seconds before his broom fell back down and Ian felt a sharp pain when his buttox collided with the hard ground. Now they were laughing at him openly and he quickly stood up, scowling and hating his teacher more and more.

"I see now you have a bright career in flying ahead of you Mister Badrick." Draco was not laughing but he sure was amused and it showed in his smirk. "Know this, Ian, I will not tolerate insolence. If you are fool enough to unterrupt me again in such a rude manner, there will be consequences," he told the terrified boy. Ian couldn't even nod in reply but Draco didn't mind. All that mattered was that the messaged got through. And if he was completely honest with himself, he liked being feared.

The silence was filled with anxiety and fear again and Draco sighed in exasperation. He turned to the rest of his class, thinking of a waycalm them down somehow. "There's no need to fear me," he asuured them once again. "It all depends on your behavior. As long as you behave, so will I. The moment you don't, I'll have to act accordingly. People should be punished for the crimes they do."

"Will you be punished, sir?" the question was so unexpected it almost made Draco think that maybe it was in his head. He thought the same thing just then, and he was quite certain the kids were wondering the same thing, but he didn't think any of them would actually dare to ask it. When he looked for the one who asked it, he found he wasn't too surprised to discover it was Vela Ashford. The little girl in Gryffindor robes already showed that the Sorting Hat wasn't wrong in her decision. Draco gave her a soft smile.

"I believe I will," he told her and the rest of them. "But not now, not in the near future." No one said a word. "Now," he suddenly said, "let's get ack to our lesson".

~O~O~O~O~

Draco noticed the boy for the first time the next day. Draco was in the middle of giving a lesson to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff first years when he caught a movement to his left side. He wasn't a boy really, he was probably a seventh-year and he had disshelved dark hair and even from that distance Draco could see those bright green eyes. Like emeralds. Aside from those, though, there was nothing very extraodinary about him; he was rather slim and an inch or two shorter than Draco. The bloke was wearing very simple and plain clothes which were obviously meant for a larger (fatter) man. But there was something about him that made him catch Draco's eye. And Draco had a very good eye. It was the way he walked, his head held high and his back straight, as if he could care less about what people thought of his clothes or his hair. There was something in those eyes, too, something like stubborn determination, Draco wasn't sure.

As if feeling someone's eyes on him, the boy turned to look at Draco. If there was anything Draco expected to see on the boy's face, it sure wasn't a blush. The dark-haired boy's eyes widened a little when he caught sight of Draco and his lips parted to form a small 'o', as if gasping. Then his cheeks flushed crimson and he stood there, rooted to the spot with no ability to move his legs and flee like his mind ordered him to do.

Draco couldn't help the smirk on his lips.

Ever since he was a small child Draco was aware of his good looks. Or rather, he was made aware of them by people commenting to him (or his paents) on how beautiful he was, even more than his older brother. It eventually made him vain and there was a short period in his life (at about the age of fourteen) when he became so unbearable to be around that his father had to do something about it. Draco could still remember the punishment he was given. His beautiful face had been truned into the face of something monstrous and horrid and he couldn't undo the spell. He might have been a prince, but even princes were forbidden from doing magic if they were underage.

Draco wept for the first two days but then he became so miserable that he didn't even feel like crying. After a week his father had asked him if he had learnt his lesson and Draco admitted whole heartedly that he had.

Now, he might not be as vain as he was, but he was still aware of his handsome face and now and then he liked to tease people with it. The boy was no exception.

Draco sent him a wink and smirked in satisfaction as the boy's eyes widened once again and the blush on his face seemed to darken.

"Instructor Draco?" the tiny voice seemed to do what the boy's brained tried to and when he heared the voice he turned on his heels and sprinted away. The students stared in fear as Draco laughed suddenly and seemed to be very amused.

"Sir?"

Draco turned back to his class, amusement still very evident in his eyes. "Can anyone tell me," he asked, "who was that student?" murmurs filled the air and the students looked at each other before openly staring back at their ignorant teacher.

"That's Harry Potter, sir!" a boy squeaked and others murmured their agreements.

"Harry Potter?" Draco asked, obviously missing something. They all seemed to be very excited about that boy-Harry Potter-was he someone special?

"You don't know him?" asked another girl and she sounded honestly amazed at that possibility. Obviously, Harry Potter was someone he ought to have know about. Shame he didn't. He shook his head and the students gasped dramatically.

"Well?"

"He's Harry Potter!"

"Youngest seeker in a hunderd years!"

"Best seeker in a hundred years!"

"He's, like, the best!"

"He hasn't lost a game since his first year here!"

"Yes, and he's only been playing since then."

Ok, so Harry Potter was obviously someone sepcial and apprently had the adoration of the first year students.

"He doesn't seem like much," Draco teased them and immediately there were cries of protest and rage. He chuckled and then called them back to order.

So, Harry Potter. Draco's first impression of the boy was of a strong minded young man. The boy's reaction to seeing Draco, however, completely shattered that impression to pieces. The boy blushed so deeply and fled, ran away like a hormonal teenage girl who couldn't handle being looked at by a handsome guy. The two impressions were so conflicting, Draco didn't know what to make of them. Draco was once told that first impressions last longest, Hary Potter was probably the first to defy that rule (in Draco's mind). Draco, somewhere inside of him, hoped to see that Harry Potter guy once again.

~O~O~O~O~

He saw him again, at dinner. The hall was full with loud students, laughing and chattering with their friends and Draco's head was aching. He wasn't used to such noisy meals. His colleagues seemed to be used to it and the Headmaster smiled pleasntly at Draco.

"I hope you're having a good time, Draco," he said and that twinkle was back in his eyes.

"I'm having a splendid time, Headmaster," Draco replied with a fake smile. He was sure Dumbledore did not buy that at all, but he didn't care.

Then, just like before, he caught a glimpse of a movement. It was absurd really, what with everyone in the great hall being in constant motion, but he seemed to be drawn to one movement in particular. Draco looked up from his plate and followed the motion of one black robe. It was Harry Potter.

The young man sat down between a ginger boy and a bushy haired girl and mounted food on his plate. He seemed to have fun, laughing when his ginger friend said something, radiating confidence and composure. So unlike the blushing boy that Draco had seen. Draco had to admit, the boy was intriguing. There was just something about him which made people like him and want to befriend him, and Draco Malfoy was no exception. Harry Potter seemed to be in his seventh and final year and therefore he was probably seventeen years old. By law he was an adult. But so what? Draco's rational mind supplied. He wasn't interested in the kid, was he? A bloke whom he'd never evem met, let alone seen before, whom he knew nothing about? Surely not. It was just his damned curiosity again. The Great Harry Potter. Since his first encounter with him Draco heard a few more things about the bloke, none of them really imortant or irregular. He was the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team (a Gryffindor, why hadn't he seen that?), which was very reasonable, according to what he's heard of the bloke's flying skills.

Harry Potter seemed to also posses a great ability to detect eyes on him because once again he looked up, sensing Draco's stare. This time his blush was not so deep but there nonetheless. Draco gave him a smile (more of a smirk, really) and, to his surprise, Harry Potter returned him a hesitant smile. The bushy haired girl noticed the expression on her friend's face and turned to look at Draco's direction. And then, Draco suspected she had remarkable powers of observation, she smirked at Harry and made him blush. Draco chuckled to himself. The guy was such a tease! Even his friend could make him blush so easily. He must be a virgin, he thought, and then mentally slapped himself. Harry Potter ignored him for the rest of dinnertime and Draco made no attempt to catch his eyes. Draco engaged himself in a converstaion with professor Flitwick for the rest of dinnertime, not about spells and charms but-oddly enough-about Quidditch. The professor supported Puddlemere United and Draco admitted he didn't support any team but thought the Montrose Magpies was a wonderful team.

When dinner was finally over Draco left the great hall with everyone else. He had to turn a corner, though, and there he was, Harry Potter. He was with his two friends, but it was a trivial fact.

"N.E.W.T.s are ages from now Hermione!" the ginger whinged.

"They're not ages from now Ronald, they'll arrive sooner than you think." The girl, Hermione told him with a scowl.

"But the year has only just begun!"

"All the more reason why you should study hard from now!"

"I can't see the logic in your words."

"Really, Ron, you should know better than to argue with 'Mione." The last sentence was spoken by Harry Potter. Draco was surprised to find out he had a rather deep voice, not too deep, and quite soft.

"Harry! You're not agreeing with her, are you?" Harry Potter scratched the back of his neck. "I think 'Mione's right," he told his shocked ginger friend.

"As much as I am enjoying your conversation," Draco interjected from behind them and the three of them jumped in surprise. "I would appreciate it if you let me pass and reach my chambers." They blushed and made way for him. Draco passed through, smirking when he saw Harry Potter avert his gaze. "By the way Ronald," he told the red headed boy. "You should listen to your friends." Ron opened his mouth to say something but the girl kicked his foot.

Sometimes, Draco absolutely loved power.

~O~O~O~O~

A/N: the poem is 'The Tyger' by William Blake. You might remember that Draco said he was tweny years old. It's not true, really. He's nineteen and he'll be twenty on June 5. Harry, Ron and Hermione are all seventeen so there's only a gap of two years btween them and Draco.

-HairoM

P.S. it probaby doesn't interest anyone but I have to write it down: I Hate . that's all.