Author's Note: Sorry for not updating as regularly as (I, at least) hoped this past week! It has been very busy due to camp and driver's education. I chose to update this story as I have a limited amount of typing time, so I am greatly sorry to those awaiting an update on The Room of Death. I will get to it as soon as possible. Please let me know what you think of my story! This is one of my favorite sections in this story. After this, we move onto the Marauders' perspectives. Thanks!
Disclaimer: Characters are property of JKR!
Draco Malfoy
As Draco twiddled his new wand between his fingers, thinking about the foolishly uninformed boy from the robe shop, there was a knock upon his bedroom door. It opened timidly, revealing the lowly house elf. "Dobby is sorry to disturb you, sir, but Dobby was sent to inform you that it is time to eat dinner, sir." With a smirk at the fearful elf, Draco swung himself off the bed and waltzed out of his room. The elf shrank back as he passed, but no strike came. His body visibly relaxed, just as Draco turned to give him a swift kick. The enslaved creature shrieked softly but made no protest. The blonde boy sneered at him before running down the stairs.
As he approached the dining room door, he heard his parents talking in low voices. His father sounded drained, muttering almost to himself. "Speaking with Macnair today…seems to think the boy might be more powerful. That he…that he defeated the Dark Lord because he was more evil…" His mother's fearful voice broke in. "But why should that concern us?" His father sighed, and Draco knew he would be pacing in agitation. "He could be…a rallying point. Goyle reckons…he could bring us back together under the mark. No, a new mark. Continue the noble work. We should send Draco to…befriend him." Grinning slightly, Draco decided he had heard enough. He pushed his way into the kitchen, pretending to have just arrived. "Well? Are we eating or not?" He demanded.
During dinner, his mother timidly addressed him. "Draco, dear, you're father and I have been talking." I know you have been, Draco thought smugly. "There is a boy, Harry Potter, who is starting in your year. I am sure you are familiar with his history. Your father and I would like you to…befriend him." It was with extreme gratification that he replied, "How much will I get?" His father glared at him. "The satisfaction of helping your parents rise to power as they work toward restoring our rightful place as pure-bloods!" Draco was startled by his father's anger, and simply nodded his agreement. He would have to obey. With the slightest hint of a sneer, he remembered the boy in Diagon Alley once again. I hope the "Boy Who Lived" isn't as much of an idiot as the boy in the robe shop! he thought savagely.