Chapter 2

The child stood still, staring at his surroundings with wide eyes and an open mouth — though he immediately schooled his expressions accordingly after his father gave him a warning look. Since he had his Potions equipment already (Severus Snape, the Potions Master at Hogwarts, was his Godfather; as such, he had been tutored in said subject by the very best), Lucius decided that he'll get the books and the telescope himself.

And so it was by himself that Draco entered Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. He was very relieved as to get indoors, as people seemed to be talking and staring at him wherever he went. They'd tried to pretend that they hadn't been doing so, but he could tell anyways.

Since the downfall of You-Know-Who all those years ago, it took ages for his family to get back in society's good graces — though many were still suspicious of Father's 'innocence'. By default, of course he would be viewed under the same light as his father…for better or for worse.

"Hello, dear." A rather short, friendly-looking woman interrupted his quiet musings. "Are you here for your Hogwarts school robes?" He nodded, supposing that this person was Madam Malkin herself. "Now, come along with one of my assistants — Ingrid!"

A brunette girl stepped forward and led him to a footstool, onto which he was told to stand. He put on the black robe he was given and waited silently as she started to measure and adjust its length. He was beginning to resign himself to boredom when he heard Madam Malkin say "Just stand on this stool, dear."

He hadn't noticed the creaking noise of the shop's door being opented. He turned around slightly and caught sight of another child, one that appeared to be youger than him, with messy black hair and startling green eyes. "Hullo," he said. "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes."

"My father's next door buying my we're going to get a wand for me." He paused for a moment, wondering what to say. "Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No." The boy looked nervous. Draco looked first at the other child's clothes (worn-out, obviously second-hand, way too large), then at the ones he was wearing (velvet, tastefully embroidered around the sleeves and collar, just the right size). He seemed like someone Father would've scorned and deemed 'way beneath us Malfoys' — but then again, most people fell under that category.

He recalled a past conversation with his best friend. Dobby had insisted, in that rather squeaky voice of his, that blood purity was not important — look at Harry Potter, for example. Despite being of 'dubious origins' (his mother was muggle-born), he had managed to defeat the…Dark Lord. The house-elf spoke of Potter as if he were a god-send (which, if one conforms with popular opinion, he was).

While Draco didn't feel inclined to worship Potter for what appeared to be a mere fluke, he wasn't about to do the same for You-Know-Who, either. Hating someone because of the circumstances they happened to be born into seemed unreasonable, and he wondered what might've happened to him had he been born a Squib. He had to supress a shudder at that; Father hated non-magical people — and muggleborns ('Mudbloods', he'd often called them) — especially. Shaking his head slightly, he looked at the other first-year again.

The boy looked rather unsure of himself — perhaps he hadn't heard much about Hogwarts? Draco decided to edit out, as much as possible, the nuances Father was fond of incorporating into the explanation he was going to give; he didn't want this person to talk behind his back as well, like all those annoying people outside. Besides, this was the first person (who was about the same age as him) he had met outside the Manor; he'd rather not make an enemy out of the brunet.

"There's four Houses at Hogwarts: Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. You get sorted into one of them, though that depends on your personality. Gryffindors are bold and brave, Ravenclaws are smart and studious, Slytherins are ambitious and clever, and Hufflepuffs are hardworking and more down-to-earth…Well, that's what I've heard."

"Oh."

He looked thoughtful. "I suppose I'll be in Slytherin — all or our family have been — but Ravenclaw would be nice, too…" He trailed off, looking into the distance. He caught sight of a large man, who was holding two ice-creams, standing at the front window. "I say, look at that man!" That person was huge!

"That's Hagrid," said the boy with a smile. "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh. I've heard of him…He's the gamekeeper, right?"

"Yeah."

"Is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead."

"Oh, sorry." Draco chewed at his lip, trying to think of what to say and failing.

Then there was nothing but an uneasy silence, which went on for quite a while until Ingrid said that she was done. He gave his thanks, then paid her with the coins Father had given him.

He turned to the boy. "Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose." He gave a half-wave before leaving with the package of clothes tucked under one arm.

He met Father on his way to Flourish and Blotts. The package was handed over, shrunk, then tucked into a pocket. After that, he followed the man to Ollivanders.

His father walked in beside him, sniffing dismissively at the broken-down state of the shop.

"Good afternoon." Ollivander was an elderly man with uncannily gleaming eyes that rarely blinked. "Hello, Lucius Malfoy…Ten inches, Elm, and dragon heartstring, correct?"

Lucius gave a stiff nod.

"Well, now — Please hold out your wand arm, Mister Malfoy." This was directed at Draco, who held out his right arm. He was measured from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and around his head (the last part had seemed unnecessary, though). Then Ollivander walked behind the counter and scampered about, picking various boxes off the shelves. He handed a wand to the boy. "Chestnut and dragon heartstring. Seven and a half inches. Rather flexible. Go on."

He took the piece of wood and looked at it before waving it once, twice thrice... Nothing happened. The man took it back, then handed him another. "Mahogany and phoenix feather. Twelve inches. Pliant."

He waved it around for a bit before the stick was snatched back. Ollivander looked through the small pile of boxes on the counter before grabbing one. "Hawthorn and unicorn hair. Ten inches. Reasonably Springy."

The second Draco touched the wand, he realised that it was the right one by the way it fitted comfortably in his hand. He waved it about, looking triumphant as blue and silver sparks burst out from the tip. Ollivander nodded, looking pleased. Father paid him seven Galleons and walked out of the shop, followed behind by Draco.

A moment after the two of them left Ollivanders, a tall man sauntered up to them.

"Lucius! I was looking for you; you're needed at the Ministry. Oh, is this young Draco?" Beady brown eyes peered down at the boy.

"Yes, he is. Draco, this is Javiero Delgado. He's a member of the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

"Hello, sir."

Delgado grinned at the child before saying something, in a low voice, to the other grown-up.

"Ah, I see." Lucius looked at his son. "Draco, I have to leave for the Ministry. Please stay here, in Diagon Alley; I'll come back later, at around five, to pick you up." He put a small bag of coins into said person's hands, then bent down and murmured: "We'll meet at Florean Fortescue's. We'll get you an owl later." The two adults left.

Draco stared at the two figures until they were out far away from him. Then he pulled up the hood of his cloak and turned away.


Some of the sentences (or phrases) were copied, word for word, straight out of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone; they were from page 60...and there were a couple from page 64. Oh, and the bit about Draco's wand was from somewhere in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, I think.