AN: This is the first chapter where I've written Draco's perspective first and then Harry's. Usually I just go Harry, Draco, Harry, Draco. Anyway, hope you enjoy it and please review!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks
CHAPTER 10: YEAR 1—SECRETS
Harry
Harry and Ron were very pleased to see Neville when they boarded the Hogwarts Express at the end of the holidays. And Neville also looked much happier than he'd ever been before, which Harry guessed had something to do with the amazing Christmas gift that James had gotten him. Neville confirmed it so by pulling out the brand new wand that would replace that old thing that Augusta had insisted on giving him back in August, when he'd received his letter from Hogwarts. According to Harry's father, Augusta said that purchasing a brand new wand at Ollivander's was a "complete waste of time and money". It gave Harry a great deal of happiness to see how Neville's eyes sparkled as he showed his new wand to Ron.
As the train drove off, the boys started a game of Gobstones, which were a Christmas present that Fred and George had given Ron. Ron was of course obsessed with winning and so every half an hour, he cheered his victory and yelled "again, again!", much like a five-year-old. Harry laughed at him and continued playing. He could play all day. Life was absolutely beautiful. Why? Because his father had given him the best present of all and he would use it almost every day if he could. Also, things with Sirius were good again. It was the best Christmas holidays Harry had ever had.
"That's really good, Nev," he said finally, once Neville had stopped talking about his new wand.
Neville sighed happily.
"So what else d'you get?" Ron asked him.
"The jumper from you [Harry gave Ron a look and Ron shrugged], a book from Harry [Ron gave Harry the same look], some Spellotape from Lily, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans from Hermione, a box of chocolate frogs from Remus and a signed Quidditch jersey from Sirius."
"Awe sweet!" said Ron, at once.
"Wait, what about your grandmother?" said Harry, and he almost regretted it as soon as he did because Neville's face saddened instantly.
"A Remembrall," he said, gloomily.
"A what?!" exclaimed Harry and Ron together.
"It's this small ball with smoke that turns red when you've forgotten something. Gran said I'll probably be seeing red all year."
"Bloody hell," said Ron, but Harry quickly jumped to sympathy.
"That's okay," he said, quickly. "Hey, remember the new wand?"
"And the signed Jersey?" said Ron, happily.
Neville cheered up again.
"Yeah, they're great!" he said.
And the rest of the train ride proceeded in the same fashion—Harry and Ron trying to cheer Neville up whenever the subject of his intolerable grandmother came up. By the time they pulled up to Hogsmeade station, Neville was in a good mood again, which was all that mattered to Harry and Ron. They got off the train together and hauled their things up to Gryffindor tower where they dumped them by their beds and postponed unpacking until later. There was something they were very eager to do before they did anything else, and that was to go visit Hagrid.
He was of course extremely pleased to see them and made a large pot of tea and banana cake to treat them. They spent a good hour at Hagrid's house, talking about the holidays and laughing about Ron's obsession with chocolate frog cards. Hagrid was so pleased seeing them, which made Harry very happy that they'd come. It had been the best decision he'd made since he took Dumbledore's advice and welcomed Sirius home.
When classes resumed, Harry had to put aside the excitement of the holidays to focus on the heavy load that the teachers surprised him with. He and Ron were already struggling to balance homework with Quidditch practice, and had to work twice as hard to defend themselves when Neville so cleverly pointed this out over breakfast one morning at the end of February.
"But we can't give up Quidditch!" said Ron. "We just…we just can't! I…tell him, Harry!"
"Ron's completely right, Nev," said Harry. "It's just not a possibility."
"No way!" agreed Ron.
"But it is a possibility," said Neville. "And besides, if you flunk out of school, then it actually won't be a possibility."
"You don't get it," said Harry, pushing his cereal bowl away. "Quidditch has always been the most important thing in my life. I can't give it up."
"Me neither," said Ron, nodding ferociously.
"Don't you want to become an auror?" said Neville to Harry.
Harry shrugged.
"W-well, yeah, but I also want to play Quidditch and I can't see why I can't do both."
"Yep!" said Ron.
Neville sighed.
"Well look, we have our final exams coming up in just four months, and—"
"Four months!" exclaimed Ron, frightening Neville slightly. "That's four whole months! We have nothing to worry about, right Harry?"
Harry nodded.
"Hey Ron," said Neville, casually. "What is a doxy?"
"I dunno," said Ron, taking a bit of his toast, "A kind of quill?"
Harry barked out a laugh and reached for his cereal bowl again. Neville shook his head in frustration.
"Okay," he said, eventually. "I think I can work around my schedule to help one of you, but that's the thing. It'll only be one of you. I don't have enough time to help the other."
"Nev, relax!" said Harry. "We're not going to flunk out of Hogwarts in our first year. Are you kidding me? With my mother, that'd be suicidal."
Ron laughed.
"Still," said Neville. "You ought to hit the books soon."
"And we will!" promised Harry. "Come on, Ron. Wood wanted us to be out on the pitch by 9."
"Coming," said Ron, who gulped another piece of bread, washed it down with orange juice, and jumped up from the table. They waved their goodbyes to Neville and disappeared from the hall.
The next day, the first-year Gryffindors were surprised to see Snape standing at the front of the classroom when they arrived at Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"Sit down," he declared, angrily.
The students found their seats and nervously got their books out.
"Professor Lupin is unfortunately unable to attend classes today," said Snape, turning his back on the students. "So you will have the pleasure of my company for the next hour."
Harry couldn't help but notice how absolutely ecstatic Malfoy was at this news. Hermione however, looked slightly nervous, though not as nervous as Neville, who was Snape's absolutely favourite victim. Harry tried to make himself as invisible as possible for the rest of the hour, and failed miserably at this.
"No, Ms. Granger, that is not the question that I asked," said Snape at one point.
"But—"
"Perhaps the Boy Who Conquered will be able to tell us!"
Harry looked up from his sheet nervously and found Snape glaring down at him. The others were also watching him intently.
"Tell us, Mr. Potter, what are the 12 uses of Dragon Blood?"
Harry gulped nervously.
"But sir!" said Neville, suddenly. "Hermione's already told you!"
"Quiet," said Snape, coldly, his ferocious eyes still on Harry.
Harry looked sideways at Neville for help but he was too scared to say anything. Harry closed his eyes and pictured the page in the textbook right before him. He tried desperately to picture the entire page but it was all blurry. He opened his eyes and glanced up at the professor nervously.
"Um," he said in a rather shaky voice, "Well…I know three." Snape waited. "It's u-used as an oven c-cleaner, a spot remover, and a cure for some d-diseases."
"How very smart of you to know just three of the twelve important uses," said Snape, wickedly. "Five points from Gryffindor."
"FOR WHAT?!" Ron blurted out, and was sorry as soon as he did because Snape smiled and said "Another five points on Weasley's account."
The Gryffindors groaned collectively.
After class, Harry made up an excuse to Ron and Neville and hurried over to the hospital wing to find Remus and check on him. But he was stopped halfway there by a breathless Neville, who'd apparently run after him.
"Ron was yelling after you," he gasped. "You have a Quidditch practice now that you can't be late for."
"But—"
"Go on, I'll check on him," promised Neville, breathing heavily.
Harry stared at him.
"Y-you will?"
"Yeah, of course!" smiled Neville. "Go on, I'll tell you about it afterwards." Harry hesitated. "Go."
"Thanks a million, Nev!" exclaimed Harry, and he ran back in the other direction to catch up with Ron.
It turned out that Remus hadn't suffered too terribly from his last cycle, but that he'd gotten a fairly high fever and was on bed rest on Madame Pomfrey's orders. That was why he couldn't come to class. He also passed along his thanks to Harry, which made him feel slightly better. He'd been terribly worried about him. He didn't know if it was just him but the cycles seemed to be getting worse. He said this much to Neville after Ron went off to bed that night.
"I don't think it's anything to worry about," said Neville. "But we could write to your parents just in case and see what they think."
Harry frowned.
"Mum will go crazy if she finds out," he concluded. "It's better to tell Sirius. He'll know what to do."
"Alright," said Neville. "Write to him then."
So Harry bid Neville a goodnight and watched him climb up to the dormitory before he pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and dipped his quill in ink:
Dear Sirius,
Hope you're doing well. School has been going good and Quidditch practice is really great. You'll come to the finishing match with dad, won't you?
I've got to tell you though…Snape is really starting to scare me. The man hates my guts! I haven't even done anything to him. I suppose I have you and dad to thank for that, don't I? I'm only kidding though.
On another note, Moony's cycles seem to be getting worse and Neville agrees with me. He had to miss class today and guess who took his place? Snape! It was really awful. Maybe you could see if anything could be done to ease Moony's condition? It really sucks seeing him like this.
Write soon,
Harry
When Professor McGonagall handed back the students' tests the next day and Ron whimpered nervously, Harry knew that Neville had been right. Of course, Harry didn't really have that much to worry about himself. He'd received a perfect score on his. But a nervous-looking Ron approached Neville later that afternoon and begged him for help. And so it was that starting then, the two of them were in the common room most evenings, studying. This meant that Harry had free time to do whatever he wanted. He decided to make use of his father's invisibility cloak and explore the castle grounds a bit. He would spy on various students and sneak up behind ghosts. This didn't help Ron's concentration because he really wanted to tag along.
Harry decided it'd been a while since he'd visited Dobby in the kitchens, and so he did just that.
"Harry Potter!" squeaked the elf when he saw him. "How long it's been! Dobby is most pleased that Harry Potter has decided to visit him!"
"Hello Dobby," said Harry, pleasantly.
"But why has Harry Potter decided to visit Dobby?" said the elf. "Oh no! Has Harry Potter missed his dinner again? Would he like for Dobby to make him a meal?"
"Oh no, Dobby that's really alright—"
But before he knew it, he was being pushed through the kitchens by several elves and forced into a chair in the corner, where Dobby brought him a large pumpkin pie and a spoon.
"Dobby baked it himself, sir," squeaked the elf. Harry gave him a small smile and decided to try a bit.
"Wow, this is really good!" he said, and he meant it. Dobby made the most spectacular food Harry had ever had.
"Harry Potter is most kind, sir!" squeaked the elf.
When Harry had had enough to eat, he beckoned for Dobby to join him. He was really curious about the elf, and luckily Dobby was very enthusiastic about sharing.
"So how did you end up working at Hogwarts?" Harry asked him.
"Dobby used to be a house elf, sir. But he was released at the end of the Wizarding War sir, and Dobby found kind Mr. Dumbledore who offered him good work at Hogwarts. So Dobby has been working here ever since."
"You were a house elf?"
"To the Malfoy Family, sir."
"What?!" gasped Harry. "The Malfoys, are you sure?"
"Positive, sir!" squeaked the elf. "The Malfoys were horrible to Dobby but Dobby had to serve his masters."
"But…well how did you escape?"
"Dobby didn't escape, sir. Dobby was released."
"But why?"
"Because the Malfoys had to give up a lot when the ministry wanted to send them to Azkaban, sir. And Dobby was also released because the Malfoys were desperate to show the ministry that they were well-intentioned people, sir. Oh Harry Potter, sir, Dobby will always be most grateful to him."
"W-why?" said Harry.
"Because Harry Potter got rid of the Dark Lord, sir! And that is why Dobby was released. If Harry Potter didn't do it, the Dark Lord would still be here and the Malfoys would still be rich and Dobby would still probably be their…their…"
And he burst into tears. Harry stared at him, not knowing what to do. He awkwardly patted him on the shoulder but was too lost for words.
"Slave!" the elf wailed finally. Harry gently took his hand and squeezed it in his own.
"Dobby," he said, politely. The elf looked up at him, wiping his tears away. "You are the best cook I have ever met."
The elf positively beamed at him.
When Harry left the kitchens ten minutes later, he realised that it was way past his curfew and threw on the cloak at once. He loved wearing it. He loved having the ability to freely wander around without any fear of getting caught. If only Snape knew what he was up to…he'd probably have a fit.
Harry was very pleased on the following Tuesday when he met up with Remus in his office for their weekly lunch, and he saw that he was doing quite well. Remus was very reassuring that it'd only just been a sickness—sort of like a flu—so Harry was able to relax.
"Well, class with Snape was awful," he told him.
"I understand," said Remus. "But as I'm sure you know, I had no control over who took over my classes for the day. Dumbledore just told me that he had it covered."
"Yeah, I guessed that much," said Harry. "Neville said you looked awful though."
"It's alright Harry," said Remus, tiredly. "Haven't you ever had the flu?"
"Yeah, but…"
"But you're not the werewolf here," said Remus, quietly, nodding. "Yes, I can see where you're coming from."
Harry nodded.
"So everything is good with Sirius then?" Remus asked, suddenly.
Harry nodded again.
"I'm sure you know how very proud I am of you," began Remus, "For taking Dumbledore's advice."
"Yeah," said Harry. "I hate being mad at him. Padfoot is my best friend."
"Yes," smiled Remus. "It's not good when best friends fight." He paused. "So has he talked to you more about the subject?"
"Not really," said Harry, shrugging. "We don't talk about Malfoy at all. We've just sort of dropped it."
Remus nodded.
"What about Neville? How is all of that going?"
"Oh, it's all okay now," said Harry. "We talked and decided that he'll be more honest."
"Good, good," said Remus. "Your friendship really reminds me of mine with your father, you know."
Harry smiled. He loved hearing about his father's childhood with Remus and Sirius. He often found himself wishing that he'd been alive at the same time and was their best friend during their days at Hogwarts. It sounds like it would've been wicked fun. But he had every intention to have the same amount of fun with Ron and Neville. Perhaps next year, they'd have plenty more opportunity to have fun, when they wouldn't be the new youngsters anymore.
Over the next couple of weeks, Professor McGonagall surprised the students a great deal with several more tests. Homework was really starting to pile up. But Wood was also keeping him and Ron really busy with Quidditch, so they found themselves staying up late almost every single night, which was really a bother. Near the end of April, Harry was returning from a practice late one evening (Ron had skipped it to study with Neville in the common room) when he found Hedwig standing just outside one of the stained glass windows, tapping gently against it.
"Hedwig!" exclaimed Harry, approaching her. He opened up the window and petted her gently. "Have you got something for me?"
She lifted her leg to reveal the letter attached. Harry untied it and petted her again.
"Thanks, girl," he said, smiling.
She soared off into the sky and he closed the window. He'd been waiting for Sirius' reply for months. His mother had warned him that Sirius would be really busy and she'd been right. Back in the common room, Harry found Neville and Ron snoozing on the couches, though it was only just 10 o'clock. Reluctant to wake them, he moved to one of the corner tables and sat by a candle to read his letter:
Dear Harry,
Before I say anything else, I have one small concern. 'Dear Sirius'? Sirius?! Since when did you stop calling me Padfoot? You know, I think you must be coming down with something. Perhaps a visit to Madame Pomfrey?
Thanks for telling me about Moony. I'll see if I can find something that could maybe help his condition, though James and I have been trying that since we were kids even.
As for Snape, I could give you a couple of tips for how to deal with him—a few little pranks, you know? Though, I doubt your mother would approve. And besides, it might not be a good idea for you to try them out in your first year. Let's wait a couple of years. They're really good, I promise.
I can't write much more because we're really busy over here, preparing for our next match, as I'm sure your mother's told you. And of course I'll come to your final match, I wouldn't miss it! You know, I'm thinking that I might actually retire from the team at the end of the season so I could spend more time with you lot. I miss you loads and I hate being away all the time. But it's just a thought.
Glad you are doing well and write again soon.
Padfoot
Harry smiled down at the letter. His favourites were always from Sirius. Feeling suddenly cheerful, he went to sit on the couch and put his feet up on the table. And as he did so, he found himself wondering whether Neville had the same sort of relationship with James. And if Sirius retired from the team, he'd always be around as well. Though, Harry wondered if retiring would make Sirius sad. He loved his work a lot. But then again, he also had a job at Hogsmeade which was a lot closer to Hogwarts. Still, working with a professional Quidditch team had to be the coolest job ever. How could he ever think about retiring?
Suddenly, Ron gave a loud snort and Neville jumped up, waking loudly.
"Rise and shine!" said Harry, brightly.
Ron began rubbing his eyes and sat up.
"What happened?" he said, glancing at the letter in Harry's hand.
Neville's eyes found it quickly as well.
"Nothing much," said Harry, shrugging. When he noticed them staring at his letter, he folded it up and placed it in his pocket. "Oh that's nothing—just a letter from Sirius."
"So, you two are okay now?" said Ron, slowly. Neville grabbed his open book on the table and put it on his lap again.
"Yeah, why wouldn't we be?" said Harry, smiling widely.
"Oh come on!" said Ron. "I noticed how angry you were at him before the holidays and then he came over to our house to talk to you. Hey, you never did tell us what that was about."
"Right," said Harry, shrugging. He looked around the common room. "Are you lot hungry? We could go down to the kitchens and ask Dobby to maybe make us some sandwiches."
"Hey, don't switch the subject so quickly!" said Ron.
Neville looked up from his book. Harry watched the two of them nervously.
"Go on, mate, tell us what's been going on," said Ron. "After all, we were worried about you. Don't we deserve to know?"
"Yeah, what happened to all that honesty you wanted?" said Neville, smirking at Harry.
Harry sighed and began to play with his cloak.
"So?" said Ron, who was watching Harry eagerly.
Neville seemed to have completely lost interest in the book on his lap and listened carefully. Harry looked down at his hands again and sighed. It was better to tell them now than later. After all, they were his friends. They wouldn't judge him. And the sooner they knew, the better really.
"Draco Malfoy is related to Sirius," he said, very quickly, before he could stop himself.
"Get out of here," said Ron.
"It's not a joke," said Harry, looking up at him finally. When Ron realised that Harry was not smiling, he frowned.
"But..."
"Wait, how can this be?" interjected Neville.
Harry shrugged slightly and then took another deep breath.
"Sirius wrote to me a while back," he began. "You know how he has all these cousins, right? He comes from a fairly large family." Neville nodded. "Well...he said that he has this one cousin who he really hates. He said he hasn't talked to her in years. And her name today is...Narcissa Malfoy."
"Is that...Draco's sister?" said Ron.
"No, he has no brothers or sisters," said Neville.
"How do you know?" said Ron.
Neville raised his eyebrows at him.
"Hermione told me."
"Oh," said Ron. "I didn't know you two talk."
"She helps me with homework from time to time," said Neville.
"We could help you with homework too," Ron muttered. "You don't have to go to the know-it-all."
"You?" laughed Neville, "Help with homework?"
"She's his mother," said Harry, who was now a little annoyed. "And anyway, that's not the point!"
Ron and Neville muttered their apologies and turned their full attention to Harry, who was far from done talking.
"The point is that Sirius never told me he was related to the Malfoys in this way," he went on. "I always knew that his family were Death Eaters back in the war, and that he was the only one who was not. But I didn't know that they were related to the Malfoys."
"It kind of makes sense, now that I think about it," said Neville suddenly. "They were all death eaters."
"Except for Sirius," added Harry.
"Yeah, except for him," said Neville. "I can't believe I never thought that this was a possibility."
"Yeah, you and me both," said Harry, gloomily.
They were quiet for the next minute, as each boy went over this information in his head.
"So," said Ron, finally. "Sirius Black, your godfather, is Draco Malfoy's what?"
"Sirius reckons it's second cousin," said Harry.
Ron nodded.
"Wow," said Neville. "And what do you think about all this?"
Harry's eyebrows shot up.
"I was pissed when I found out!" he said. "Obviously!"
"Yeah, don't you remember?" Ron said to Neville. "He wouldn't tell us what was wrong for weeks."
Harry shrugged.
"I wasn't ready for anyone to know. I mean...well just imagine it, Ron. Me related to Draco Malfoy!"
"Yeah," said Ron, who looked suddenly miserable. "Sorry mate. It must be terrible."
"Well no," said Neville. "Not related, not really."
"I'm sure Malfoy is taking this news worse than you are," Ron said to Harry, an evil smirk on his face.
Harry smiled.
"I don't think he knows and Sirius agrees."
"He doesn't know?" said Neville.
"No," said Ron, turning to look at him. "And you can't tell Hermione, alright? You tell Hermione and the little Slytherin will know in an instant."
"Boy, you really hate her, don't you?" said Harry, smirking.
"No," said Ron. "I don't hate her. She's just really annoying. She's lost us more house points this year than I can even care to count anymore!"
Harry shook his head, and then grew serious again.
"Please though," he said, looking right at Neville. "Don't tell anyone."
"Don't worry, I won't," said Neville. "You guys don't think I can keep a secret?"
"No," said Harry and Ron together.
"Ouch," said Neville.
And the three boys broke into laughter. Interrupting their laughter however was the sound of a scraping chair in the corner. They froze at once as they watched Hermione gather her books and climb up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. Harry stared after her, his mouth wide open.
"How long has she been sitting there?" said Neville.
Harry did not answer. Ron voiced his exact thoughts.
"Do you think that maybe she heard?"
They watched the door to the girls' dormitory slam shut and Harry turned round to look at the other two.
"Oh, yes," said Neville. "She heard."
Draco
There was no doubt in that things had been very different as of late. For the first time since Draco had come to Hogwarts, he felt like Hermione was his best friend again. For once, Slytherin and Gryffindor were not intervening in their friendship. That and the memory of all their fun times was what made Draco decide to ride the train back to Hogwarts with Hermione.
"But—" said Blaise when he told him on the station platform at the end of the holiday break.
"No buts," said Draco, firmly. "I am riding the train back with Hermione. Okay?"
"Okay, Malfoy," said Crabbe and Goyle together. "Whatever you want."
"Thanks," said Draco. He gave Blaise another glance before he boarded the train without another word to him.
He found an empty compartment fairly quickly and took the seat next to the window, all the while watching Hermione in the distance as she hugged both of her parents. Finally, they waved her off and she began to slowly approach the train with her things. The compartment door suddenly slid open and Draco jumped up. Blaise was standing with Crabbe and Goyle peering up behind him.
"Hey, what are you guys doing here?" said Draco.
"Just wanted to check on you," said Blaise, with a sort of shrug. "So you're sure you won't sit with us?"
"I'm sure," said Draco.
Blaise nodded.
"I'll see you at Hogwarts then," said Draco, urging him to go on before Hermione got there.
"Right," said Blaise, who did not even make an attempt to move from his spot.
Draco nodded.
"Okay then. See you there."
"Yeah," said Blaise, still rooted to the spot.
"You'd better go find a seat, Blaise," Draco prodded.
"We already did," Blaise informed him. "Friend of mine is saving us a compartment."
"Friend?"
"Yeah, Avery, you know?"
"Ah," said Draco, who didn't really know Avery that well to connect him with a face.
"Well, here I am!" said Hermione in a singsong voice once she'd reached the compartment. She stopped dead at the sight of Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle standing there with Draco. Her smile vanished quickly. "Oh, h-hello."
"Hello," said Blaise, ignoring Draco's nudge. "I'm Blaise Zabini."
"Hermione Granger."
"Yeah, that I already know," said Blaise, in an odd, sarcastic manner.
"Right," said Hermione, slowly. She glanced at Draco who kept his head bowed and then at the other two who were eyeing her suspiciously. "A-are you boys going to sit with us?"
Blaise glanced at the other two and then screwed on a smile.
"We have other plans, thanks," he said, and jarringly shutting the compartment door behind him.
There was silence. Draco didn't know what to say. He watched Hermione carefully as she stared at the door where Blaise had disappeared. The train whistled. Draco sighed loudly, causing Hermione to finally turn her head to him. He gave her an apologetic smile.
"So," he said.
"So," she said.
Draco bit his lip.
"You get any good gifts?"
The train whistled again.
"Sure," said Hermione, finally sitting down. "Mum and dad got me some new sweaters and Hagrid sent over a box of pastries."
"Hagrid?" said Draco, frowning.
"Oh he's my friend," said Hermione. The train began to move.
"Ah," said Draco, who hardly remembered anything about the man other than his freakish height.
"I also really loved the book, thanks," Hermione added. She pulled out The Princess Bride and placed it on her lap, smiling down at it.
"You're welcome," said Draco.
"What did you get?" said Hermione.
Draco hesitated.
"I love Sherlock," he started, and Hermione smiled pleasantly, "And some food and a scarf and a Sneakerscope and…"
"A Sneakerscope?" said Hermione. "Oh wow that's amazing! Who got it for you?"
"Blaise," said Draco.
"Ah," said Hermione. "And what else?"
"What?"
"You said 'and a Sneakerscope and…'" Hermione reminded him.
Draco tried to pass it off as nothing, but Hermione did not miss the sparkles that had suddenly found their way to his eyes. She laughed as Draco tried to cover up the blushing of his cheeks.
"Oh come on, tell me what else you got!" she said finally.
He sighed and looked out the window again.
"I got a Nimbus 2001," he whispered.
"A what?" said Hermione.
Draco rounded on her.
"It's only like the coolest broom ever and it's not even been launched yet!" he exclaimed. He'd wanted to tell someone ever since Christmas—had been practically dying to spill it.
"But how did you get it? And from whom?"
"Sev sent it," explained Draco. "He got it from a friend of a friend."
"Wow, that was certainly nice of him."
"That was awesome of him!"
Hermione laughed and Draco suddenly went on a rant about the strengths of this new broom. The rant carried him all throughout the day until Hermione stopped him at around supper and begged him to talk about something else. They played a little bit of cards later towards the evening and then talked about some muggle films that Hermione had gone to see over the holidays. When the train finally pulled in to Hogsmeade Station, they were both laughing and practically in tears. It had been the most fun they had had in a long time. But all came to an end as soon as they stepped off the train.
"Oy, Draco!" Blaise called out.
Hermione offered him a smile once he reached them but he ignored her and said to Draco, "Come on, let's go unpack our stuff."
Draco waved goodbye to Hermione and then followed his friends into the castle and towards the dungeons.
"So, what did you all do?" he asked his friends as they climbed through the portrait hole to their common room.
"We played a lot of games," said Crabbe.
"And ate lots of food," said Goyle.
"And talked about the latest news on Gryffindors," added Blaise.
"Oh?" said Draco, who was also very eager to hear more.
Blaise looked at him.
"It's too much to retell. Besides, it's not that important."
And he turned around and climbed up to his dormitory to unpack his things. Draco sighed. He knew it. He knew he would pay for wanting to ride the train back with Hermione instead of with Blaise and the others. But it's not like he'd committed a crime. Feeling on edge, he unpacked his things as well and then joined his friends in the common room for late night games. Blaise was still being very annoying and distant even hours after they'd come back to Hogwarts. Draco thought for a minute, and then knew just the thing to do. Careful so that Crabbe and Goyle didn't hear him, Draco leaned closer to Blaise, whose eyes snapped up at once.
"What?" he said to a grinning Draco.
"Snape got me a Nimbus 2001 for Christmas."
"WHAT?!"
"Shh!"
They looked round at Crabbe and Goyle who were fighting over the last chocolate frog in their pile of junk. Blaise's grin broadened instantly and he gave Draco a smile of gratitude.
Though the common room was fairly crowded that night, the students soon began to head off to bed so it cleared up very quickly. Blaise also retired fairly soon, and Crabbe and Goyle followed. Only Draco was left, sitting on the couch by the fireplace and building his perfect house of cards. Everyone else left as well, and he was all alone in the great big quiet of the common room.
As he continued building his house, he thought a lot about the holidays and how unexpected they had turned out to be. His mother had actually had a decent conversation with him, for the first time since he could remember. It was an amazing, yet completely unfamiliar feeling. Suddenly, a shadow in the corner moved, making Draco jump in his seat and thus destroying his house of cards.
"Sorry," said Marcus Flint, who had moved from his shadowed spot in the corner and was walking towards him now.
"I didn't know anyone else was still here," said Draco, quickly, eager to defend his fright.
"Yeah, I know," said Marcus, taking a seat on the couch next to his. Draco stared at him. Would he try to duel him again? Or perhaps threaten him for getting him into trouble with Snape? Or worse…
"What're you reading?" said Marcus, his eyes on the book lying next to Draco. Draco stared at him and then looked down at his book.
"Um, it's a muggle book that was recommended to me," he answered, finally.
"By her?" said Marcus.
Draco glared at him.
"Yes," he said, firmly.
Marcus hesitated, then nodded.
"Yeah, so listen, I feel bad about…well, you know. And um," he looked around the empty common room. He was obviously very uncomfortable because his fingers were twisting madly and he was absentmindedly kicking his foot against the coffee table over and over again. "Anyway, look I'm sorry, okay?"
Draco stared at him.
"And you can be friends with whoever you want," Marcus continued. "I don't really care. So long as you don't fight with fellow Slytherins in public and all that, we'll have no problem."
"Okay…" said Draco, once he finally found his voice.
"Aaand I won't bother you," said Marcus. "And," he swallowed, looking as though the next bit was almost painful to say, "I would really like it if we could be…f-friends."
At this, Draco cracked a smile, and this time, Marcus stared at him.
"What?"
"Snape really scared you, didn't he?" said Draco.
Marcus smirked.
"You've no idea."
"No, I actually do," said Draco. He moved the book aside and put his feet on the couch, crossing his arms. "I've known him since I was a baby."
"Really?"
"Yeah, he's an old family friend."
"Didn't know that," said Marcus. "That's cool. So like, he never puts you in trouble, does he?"
"Yeah, I suppose so," said Draco, shrugging. "Me and Sev…that's a really complicated story."
"Yeah, I'll bet," said Marcus. "So…how were your holidays?"
Draco shifted in his seat.
"Fine. Yours?"
"Good, good." There was a pause. "Get any good stuff?"
Draco bit his lip. Should he tell…? What the heck.
"Y-yeah, Snape got me a new broom."
"Oh cool," said Marcus. "What model? Not a Sweepstakes, is it?"
Draco smirked.
"A…"
He paused. Marcus raised his eyebrows, waiting.
"A Nimbus 2001."
His mouth fell open. Literally.
"How is that possible?" he breathed.
"He knows people," said Draco, with a slight shrug. Though inside, he was hopping with joy.
"That's…" said Marcus, his face brightening up considerably. "THAT'S AMAZING!"
"Yeah, it's my first broom too," said Draco.
"Well it won't be of any use to you if you're not on the team," said Marcus, suddenly. "You'd better try out for me next year. I mean it. Seriously."
Draco laughed.
"Maybe I will."
"Maybe you don't taunt me and say you'll do it," said Marcus. "I need a new seeker. Nott is just a joke."
"Alright, alright," said Draco. "I'll do it."
"Good. Wow, a Nimbus 2001! Is it any good?"
Draco paused.
"I haven't really tried it out yet, to be honest."
"Haven't tried it out yet?!" exclaimed Marcus. "Gimme, I will! Where is it?"
Draco hesitated.
"In my closet…back at home…"
"IN YOUR…oh my God, how can you stash such a good thing in your closet to collect dust?!"
Draco shrugged and laughed again as Marcus went completely pale.
So this was what hanging out with Slytherins felt like. Draco liked it. They were straightforward and direct with you, and taught you not to be so sensitive. But they also had your back whenever you needed them to. Blaise was a perfect example of that, and was a huge part of the reason why Draco was really starting to feel at home here.
For the next couple of weeks, classes went on really well. For some reason, Draco was not really bothered by Slughorn anymore. He didn't even mind sitting next to Potter in Transfiguration. He was in a better mood than he'd been all year, which might or might not have had something to do with the brand new broom waiting for him at home.
Defense Against the Dark Arts became even more enjoyable as well. Lupin was teaching them about gnomes and doxies, which Draco found to be quite fascinating. Hermione however was completely bored with all this information that she'd studied three times already. Draco made a point of giving her "I told you so" looks in class whenever he could. This really didn't please Hermione, which made Draco laugh even more.
When Draco finally saw Snape in the corridor one morning, he marched up to him with a big smile on his face.
"Good morning, Draco," said Snape, coolly.
Draco smirked.
"Hey Sev."
Snape glared down at him as students passed by them.
"I told you not to call me that here."
"Right, sorry." Draco looked around and then leaned forwards and lowered his voice. "Thanks for the broom."
Snape frowned at him and then looked up ahead at the wall.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Of course you do," said Draco, smiling more widely now. "I really love it. Thanks very much."
"I don't know what you're going on about," said Snape again.
This time, Draco frowned.
"Wait…but you sent me—"
"You'd better get on to class," said Snape, quickly, and he turned around and walked away from Draco.
Just as Draco was about to turn around however, Snape glanced at him and winked.
Later that day, Draco received quite a shock when he walked into Defense Against the Dark Arts and found Snape standing at the front of the classroom. He went to sit next to Hermione, who looked quite shocked herself, and got his books out. The Gryffindors were all bothering Snape with where Lupin was and he glared at them angrily.
"Professor Lupin is unfortunately unable to attend classes today," said Snape, turning his back on the students. "So you will have the pleasure of my company for the next hour."
Draco was absolutely ecstatic at this news. It would be the very first time that he had Snape as a teacher, even if it meant that it was only for just an hour. Hermione however, looked slightly nervous beside him. Draco couldn't understand why. It was Snape, after all! He was only the best bloody teacher in the whole school. But as the class went on, Draco began to understand why Hermione was afraid of Snape. He was absolutely horrible to her! It was very difficult to watch.
"No, Ms. Granger, that is not the question that I asked," he said, after Hermione had recited the purposes of Dragon Blood upon his request.
"But—" said Weasley, when Snape suddenly interrupted him.
"Perhaps the Boy Who Conquered will be able to tell us!"
Potter looked up at Snape nervously and found that he was glaring down at him. In spite of himself, Draco smirked. Everyone else in the class was also watching Potter intently.
"Tell us, Mr. Potter, what are the 12 uses of Dragon Blood?"
There was silence.
"But sir!" said Longbottom, suddenly. "Hermione's told you!"
"Quiet," said Snape, coldly, his ferocious eyes still on Potter.
Draco watched Potter curiously. He of course knew the answer to the question, but wanted to see if Potter knew.
"Um," he said in a shaky voice, "Well…I know three." Snape waited. "It's u-used as an oven c-cleaner, a spot remover, and a cure for some d-diseases."
"How very smart of you to know three of the twelve important uses," said Snape, wickedly. "Five points from Gryffindor."
Draco's grin broadened. Beside him, Hermione gulped nervously.
"FOR WHAT?!" Weasley cried out, but Snape only smiled at him, and said "Another five points on Weasley's account."
The Gryffindors groaned collectively.
As March slowly moved in to April, the homework load for the first years increased slightly. This meant that Draco and Hermione had more study sessions at the library and thus more time to spend together. They quizzed each other on various materials in preparation for their final exams in June. And when they were ready to take breaks, they played Wizard's Chess or Exploding Snap. Hermione was absolutely terrible at both and was exceedingly frustrated by her constant losses. Draco was overjoyed.
On the last week of April, Professor McGonagall decided to surprise the first years with a little test, for which none of them were prepared. Hermione of course turned instantly pale and began questioning McGonagall about how much this assessment would affect her overall performance in the class. But Hermione was not the only one who left the classroom afterwards looking extremely pale. The first year Gryffindors and Slytherins broke at a ferocious rant once they were out of the classroom, each of them complaining about how unfair and brutal McGonagall had been that morning. And Hermione did not look to be doing any better later that night when she met with Draco in the library to revise for a Defense Against the Dark Arts quiz.
"…so doxies are kind of like pests then, right? They infest places and you need to use Doxycide to get rid of them…? Hermione? Oy, earth to Hermione! Hey, are you alright?"
"What?"
Hermione blinked at him and then shook her head quickly and bent over her textbook again.
"What's up with you?" said Draco, smirking. "You're not still going on about that test, are you? Forget about it! It's just one—I'm sure you did well anyway."
"It's not that," said Hermione, quickly.
"Well then what?" said Draco, frowning.
Hermione looked up at him nervously and then shook her head again.
"Never mind," she said.
"Okay," said Draco, slowly. "So I'm right then?"
"About what?"
Draco stared at her.
"Doxies…"
"Oh," said Hermione, jumping up slightly. "Yes, yes, that's correct. They have shiny beetle-like wings and a double row of sharp venomous teeth. That's what makes them so dangerous and therefore pest-like."
"Right," said Draco, copying down her every word. "Okay, next. Um…" he flipped through the pages of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection and frowned down at the book. "Okay, what about the difference between pixies and…imps?"
"What?"
Draco looked up from his book again and saw that Hermione was staring at him blankly.
"Are you okay?" he repeated.
"Yes," said Hermione. "What did you say? Pixies and Imps?" she pulled aside her copy of The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1 and grabbed Draco's Defense Against the Dark Arts book and flipped through the pages.
"Since when do you need to check something in the book?" said Draco, his eyes narrowed.
Hermione sighed and looked up at him.
"Imps and Pixies are very alike in their slapstick sense of humour and height of six to eight inches. They like to push and trip the unwary. The main difference between the two however is that Imps hatch fully formed."
And without waiting for Draco to respond, Hermione turned back to her book and put her head in her hands so that she could read to herself. But Draco was very stubborn. He pushed her heavy book aside with a loud thump and put a hand on her shoulder.
"Please tell me what's wrong," he said in a whisper, because Madame Pince had just glared at him for making noise.
Hermione looked around nervously but seemed to have made up her mind because she pulled the rest of her books aside too, and turned her body completely around so that she was facing Draco. He listened.
"I overheard Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley talking last night," she began. Draco made a face but she put up a hand so that he'd let her finish. "They were talking about something that Harry had found out before the holiday break."
"Okay," said Draco slowly, not knowing where she was going with this or why it was so important to her. "And what did he find out?"
"He…" said Hermione, biting her lip. "He said that he was mad at his godfather. He was mad because he found out something that his godfather had been keeping from him all his childhood."
"Wait," said Draco suddenly. "You mean to tell me that you've been acting weird because of something Potter's godfather said to him? Why do you care?"
"Because it has to do with you, Draco!" Hermione blurted out.
At this, Draco started.
"W-what?"
Hermione took a deep breath.
"Harry's godfather is a man called Sirius Black," said Hermione. Draco gave her a questioning look. "And he has a very large family—a fair number of cousins. And one of his cousins is a woman he hasn't talked to in years."
"Okay," said Draco, slowly.
"Her name is Narcissa Malfoy, Draco," said Hermione.
The common room seemed to swim before his eyes with all sorts of blurred colours as Draco climbed in through the portrait hole and stood, looking around. He didn't remember exactly how he'd gotten there from the library. His feet seemed to drag him up the stairs to his dormitory and voices were shouting in his head.
"Why, hello there, Malfoy," said the Sorting Hat. "It's been too long since I've seen a Malfoy. How's your father doing, I wonder?"
"Just get on with it," grunted Draco.
"Oh but we didn't get a chance to chat!" exclaimed the Hat. "You know, your mother was a kind one but her sister was truly historic to this school. She did some things I haven't seen in years. I wonder if you've inherited the Black gene and will be amazing us with your talents as well."
The Black gene, thought Draco. How could he have missed it? He had been so upset about Hermione getting sorted into Gryffindor that he'd completely neglected everything else the Sorting Hat had told him. Draco kicked his shoes off and drew the hangings around his bed, slumping down and facing the ceiling. Black. How could his mother have been a Black? It could not be true. It just could not. But according to Hermione, Potter had been very energetic about the subject. He seemed extremely upset about this small connection that he had to Draco.
So Sirius Black being his mother's cousin meant that he was Draco's relative as well…an uncle or a distant cousin or something…But his mother had never mentioned his very existence. He had been completely unknown to Draco all his life. So how then could this be? And it was very evident that Hermione had been extremely disturbed by this information and nervous about telling Draco, so it was definitely true. But how could it be true? It couldn't!
Draco turned around on his pillow. What ever had happened that made Sirius a completely neglected part of his family? And since he was clearly aware of this connection he had to Draco's family, why hadn't he ever reached out to him? Wasn't he supposed to be all right and proper, like the perfect little Harry Potter? Draco sighed. Sleep surely wasn't going to find him tonight. He sat up and fetched a bit of parchment and a quill. Looking around the room again to make sure everyone was asleep, he began to write:
Dear mother,
All those years you spent complaining about the Potters. But you never mentioned that Harry Potter's godfather, a man called Sirius Black, is your own cousin. How could you keep this family secret from me? How can you have been a Black before you were a Malfoy? And don't you think I deserved to know?!
Draco
He glared down at the parchment in his hand. Tears were sprinkling down on it. Furious, he crumpled it up quickly and fetched a fresh piece.
Dear mother,
Hope you are alright. Everything is fine here. I am only writing to tell you that today I found out that I have a (Draco paused. Second cousin, was it?) second cousin called Sirius Black. I was just wondering how this is possible.
Draco
Satisfied, he folded it up and placed it under the ink bottle on his bedside table, noting to himself that he'd visit the owlry first thing tomorrow morning and borrow Horus to deliver the crucial letter.
Feeling wide awake, Draco fell back on his pillow and stared up at the ceiling again, wondering now whether there was even the slightest chance that Sev was aware of this small detail of the Black family history.
Which perspective (and plot) is so far your favourite, Harry's or Draco's? And also tell me why.