The Hundred Acre Wood
Disclaimer & Warnings: See chapter 1
Timeline: Thursday, August 1st, 1991, still mid-afternoon
Chapter 25 – Draco Wakes Up
"Oh, Draaacooo… wake up!" Pansy Parkinson sang out sweetly as she dumped a bucket of ice-cold water on the sleeping boy.
"WHAT?! Wha'd you do that for!?" Draco Malfoy sputtered, sitting up in the lounge chair by the pond, his platinum blonde hair dripping.
"You were getting sunburned. I was saving you."
"Couldn't you have saved me in a little less wet of a fashion?"
"Yes, but it wouldn't have been nearly as much fun," she giggled back.
"Hey Draco, what were you daydreaming about?" Blaise Zambini questioned, leaning up on his elbows in his own lounge chair.
"Daydreaming? Malfoy's do not 'dream'. We plot. We plan. We are not 'dreamers'," Draco snapped.
"Maybe not, but you were talking in your sleep."
Draco Malfoy was having a summer 'soon-to-be-a-snake' swim party at the Malfoy Manor for his elite circle of friends, all of whom had all been accepted as first years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and all of whom felt fairly certain they'd soon be sorted into Slytherin House. The heat of the late afternoon had made Draco drowsy after swimming, and he'd fallen asleep in the sun. He'd been having some vaguely unsettling dreams about swarms of honeybees, packing for Hogwarts, and his imaginary friend Christopher Robin.
'Merlin! I haven't dreamt about Christopher Robin in years, well months. Okay weeks, well maybe it wasn't even as long ago as al that, but really… I'm eleven now! I'm quite too old to be dreaming about imaginary friends. After all, I am a Malfoy, and Malfoy's don't have imaginary friends.' Draco had never told his parents about it, or his godfather, or his friends. He'd never told anybody. 'Oh no! What if my housemates find out about it once I get to Hogwarts, I'll never live it down. Better put a stop to this right now.'
"Whatever do you mean?" Draco asked innocently as he got up shaking the water out of his ears.
"You were mumbling things like 'dash it all'… I've never heard you use that phrase before and you said it twice. It was really pretty funny Dray," Blaise laughed.
Draco didn't like being laughed at, EVER, for any reason. He narrowed his eyes at his friend as he put his hands on his slim hips and glared as only a Malfoy could glare.
"My name is Draco, NOT Dray," he said evenly.
"No offence Draco… it was just a nickname."
"Malfoy's do not use… 'nick' names," he chastised, changing the subject from his daydream as quickly as possible.
"Hey, don't look at me like that. I said I was sorry. Lighten up a bit, will you? Geez."
"Sorry Blaise. I guess I'm just a bit on edge with school starting soon. And my unexpected shower, just as I was starting to relax, didn't help any," he said, adding a glare in Pansy's direction for emphasis.
"What's to be nervous about? You'll rule the school," the girl flirted.
"Malfoy's are never… nervous. Nevertheless, things will be a bit different than I'm used to. It may take a day or two to get the lay of the land."
"How will it be different Draco? I mean as you're always saying… you are a Malfoy," Daphne Greengrass asked doing her best imitation of the Malfoy drawl and shaking her empty ice tea glass until a house elf appeared to refill it.
"True, the Malfoy name is quite respected, by all the right people anyway. It's just that there will be some half-bloods and mudbloods there as well. Why we have to mix with them, I don't know. There should be a law against it. It'd be much better if Hogwarts were exclusive to purebloods like Durmstrang. It's just wrong when nothings try to be somethings…"
Draco's conscience pricked uncomfortably when he said this. It reminded him of his daydream discussion with Christopher Robin, and he remembered now how he thought he shouldn't have said it then either. He didn't really have anything personal against half-bloods or even muggle-borns for that matter. In fact, he'd never even met one. He was just talking, saying the first thing that popped into his head whether he meant it or not. He tended to do this when he was nervous and usually without thinking first. It was a bad habit he needed to break.
"I'm not going to worry about Hogwarts until I have to," Gregory Goyle stated, "I'm not even going to pack until the night before. The thought of all that studying makes my head hurt."
"I'm not going to pack at all," Draco remarked casually.
"YOU'RE NOT!?" Pansy cried out in shock. "DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE NOT GOING TO HOGWARTS! I'LL JUST DIE!"
"Oh calm down girl. Of course, I'm going to Hogwarts. Malfoys' are all about the finest, and Hogwarts is the finest school of Witchcraft and Wizardry there is. At least it is, if you believe all their pamphlets and propaganda. Of course, now that I'll be attending Father's got himself appointed to the Board, so he will make sure of it."
"Oh good! For a minute there I thought you'd gotten your way about going to Durmstrang."
"I changed my mind," Draco said glibly, not wanting to confess that the real reason was his parents had nixed the idea. "Hogwarts is in a far more agreeable a climate than Durmstrang, and I wouldn't be caught dead at Beauxbaton - too prissy. Also, my godfather's the Potions Master at Hogwarts, and he'd kill me if I went somewhere else."
"Then why aren't you going to pack? I've been packed for a week already," Pansy sniffled.
"The house-elves will take care of it for me," Draco said, inspecting his nails before looking up surprised at the silence. "Well, what'd you think I meant? You didn't honestly think I was going to do it myself now did you?"
"Now that's the Draco we all know and love," Pansy and Daphne fawned.
"EEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEE!"
"Crabbe! What is it? You sound like one of the bloody peacocks!"
"A bee! A bee! Get it off me! Get it off!" Vincent Crabbe yelled out as he danced around arms flailing as he swung at the minute attacker.
"Ha! Got it!" With lightning quick reflexes, Draco deftly scooped up the tiny winged golden insect that'd landed on Vincent's neck, as the boy ran by.
"Draco! I said get it OFF me, not HIT me!" the other boy had jumped sideways, when Draco's hand had moved so quickly towards him, and he landed with a big crash into a stack of unused lawn chairs breaking half of them.
"Do be careful there Crabbe, it was just a bee. You're such a crybaby you'll probably be sorted into Hufflepuff," Draco said carefully letting his buzzing prisoner loose on a nearby flower.
"I am NOT a Hufflepuff!" Crabbe yelled.
"With that display of bravery you definitely won't make Gryffindork. I doubt if Ravenclaw would want you either, I know Slytherin won't. You'll be in Hufflepuff for sure."
"TAKE IT BACK MALFOY!"
"Why should I? Am I wrong?" Draco smirked.
"Is everything alright boys?" Lucius Malfoy called out from the patio.
"Everything's fine Father, just bees being bees, and Crabbe being a crab," Draco laughed as he pulled his friend to his feet and brushed him off.
"It's time for your friends to be heading home now Draco. It's almost time for dinner," Lucius told him.
"You heard him guys, better shove off now. Crabbe, I didn't mean it. You're Slytherin through and through. Okay? Still friends?"
"Okay Draco, still friends."
"Bye Draco. Thanks for the party. See you on the first!" his companions chorused as they gathered up their scattered belongings, and one by one, portkeyed home.
As Draco watched his friends leave, he wondered about how he'd fit in at Hogwarts. He'd always been the big fish in his little pond of close friends and now things were definitely going to be upside down. He'd be a little fish in a big pond. As a first year, he'd be on the bottom rung of the school hierarchy. Even with the legacy of the Malfoy fortune behind him the thought scared him, though he was loathe admitting to it. Malfoys' never admit to being scared.
"Draco, come join your mother and I on the patio," Lucius Malfoy called out to his son.
As his son took a seat on the shady stone patio, Lucius Malfoy studied him carefully, and then exchanged a meaningful glance with his wife Narcissa before he began to speak.
"Draco, we overheard some of what you and your friends were discussing and we think we should talk about a few things."
Draco could see the faint look of disappointment in his parents' eyes and he cringed inwardly. Even more than being laughed at, he hated disappointing his parents.
"Sorry Father, I guess I shouldn't have teased Crabbe like that."
"That's not what I'm talking about son. I'd have to say your assessment of young Vincent's qualifications was accurate. Never back down or apologize when you're right," Lucius said amused.
"What's wrong then?"
"For starters honey, I've instructed the house-elves to not help you pack your trunk," Narcissa avoided looking her son in the eyes as she made this announcement. She knew it wouldn't go over well.
"What! Why not? Am I not going? But… but I received my acceptance letter! All my friends are going!"
"Don't panic, you're going too. The reason is, at school you'll have to do some of these things yourself. You'll need to know how as you won't have your personal house-elves there to do everything for you."
"But there's house-elves at Hogwarts!" he pouted.
"Yes, there are, however, they're not there to cater to your every whim. They're there to cook, do the laundry, and keep the castle clean. However, you'll have to keep your own area neat, and you will have to pack your own trunk."
"But Mother…"
"No arguing."
"Yes, Mother. Is that it then?" Draco sulked.
"Not quite Draco. I also want to talk to you about the sorting. I just want you to be prepared if things don't go as you think they should."
"What do you mean Mother?"
"You're extremely intelligent. You'd do well in Ravenclaw."
"Ravenclaw? But our family's always has been in Slytherin!"
"True, however, I remember the sorting hat almost put me in Ravenclaw. You've inherited my love of learning, so it's possible…"
"Let me just say this once son," Lucius cut in. "If you aren't placed in Slytherin don't bother coming home at Holiday."
"LUCIUS!" Narcissa gasped. "HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT?"
"Just kidding my dear… just kidding. Remember Draco, we'll always love you and take you back even if you end up in… Gryffindor," he pretended to choke on the word, then winked at Draco and mouthed the words 'Slytherin Rules', earning him a swift kick under the table from his wife.
"Yes, Father, I'll remember. Is that all?" Draco smiled warily at his father's antics, not truly sure if the kidding was real. He hadn't ever considered what would happen if he wasn't sorted into Slytherin.
"Just one other thing. There's also the matter of your comment about half-bloods and mudbloods…" Lucius continued.
"But I've heard you say…" Draco cut in.
"Don't interrupt when I'm speaking!" his father ordered in a stern voice, holding up a hand to silence his son.
"Sorry, Father," Draco backed down meekly.
"Son, do you understand why I'm so against non pure-bloods - muggles in particular?"
"Yes, Father."
"Tell me then."
"It's because they aren't as good as we are. They're always pretending to be better than they are, when all they really are is stupid oafs who don't deserve to live."
"Is that how you really think I feel?" Lucius frowned at Narcissa's raised eyebrows and her 'I told you so' expression.
"Isn't it?"
"Not exactly. However, I can certainly see how I may have given you that impression, as I've never hesitated to voice my views in front you. Nevertheless, I do regret instilling my prejudice in you at such a young age. I have my reasons for my hatred of muggles. Reasons I feel are valid. Even so, I must ask you to think carefully before you start voicing any rhetorical judgments. I'd ask that you do so based solely on your own experiences, not on mine. That's a true mark of a superior leader, and I expect no less than that of you, after all, you're a Malfoy.
"May I ask you Father… what are your reasons?"
"We purebloods are proud of our lineage, and justifiably so. The Malfoy and Black lines trace back over seven centuries. Before the world split into magical and non-magical worlds, we were a very prolific clan with great influence over wizards and muggles alike. Then the muggles grew jealous of our power. When they began persecuting witches and wizards in the sixteen hundreds, we lost a great many of our kinsmen - they nearly wiped out our entire line. Normal life spans for wizards can be up to two hundred years or more. Thanks to muggles, very few of our progenitors lived past eighty. All died at the hands of muggles, many by burning. When I turned of age, my father took me into his pensive and showed me the eyewitness memories of their deaths handed down from father to son over the years. It was horrible. I can't erase the sight from my mind. Now, whenever I look at a muggle, all I see are the faces of those that tortured my family, and all I want is retribution."
"May I see them too Father - the memories?" Draco asked with a little dread and a lot of curiosity.
"Your mother disagrees with me on this, so it'll be your choice, but only when you turn of age. Then, if you want, I'll show you the memories as is our tradition, and as is your right as a Malfoy to see them. However, this isn't the time. This is the time for you to go out into the world with an open mind and make your own choices and your own judgments, not coloured by those of the past. This is your time to make friends and alliances that will last you a lifetime. Don't limit yourself by what you hear others say, even if they're your parents."
"So you don't have anything against half-bloods and mudbloods? Just muggles?"
"I wouldn't say that. However, unlike muggles, half-bloods and mudbloods do have their… usefulness."
"What do you mean Father?"
"I have experienced in the political arena that it's best to keep your options open at all times, you never know when you may need one of them in your corner. Frankly, there're too many of them these days, what with unfortunate marriage choices such as the one your mother's sister made, to ignore them completely. You'd do well to remember this."
"So it's alright to be friends with half-bloods and mudbloods?"
"I didn't say that son. I only said that they have their usefulness. Never forget that in the end you're still a Malfoy."
"I don't think I understand."
"Mudbloods are nothings, they're there to be used if necessary, but that's the end of their usefulness to the wizarding world."
"They're nothings?"
"Yes, and they keep trying to overstep their place to become something in the wizarding world. It's quite disconcerting."
"So… nothings should never try to become somethings?"
"Absolutely, you should never try to make something out of nothing. It's a pointless waste of time."
Draco thought about what his father was saying. He recognized it as the same thing he'd spouted mindlessly to Christopher Robin. It didn't feel right then, and it didn't feel right now. At least he knew now how that idea got in his head to start with.
"Father… what about half-bloods? They aren't total mudblood nothings, but they aren't purebloods somethings either. May I be friends with them?"
"Half-bloods at least have a legitimate claim to magic, of course not as great as ours, but legitimate nonetheless. Your godfather's one. I consider him a close friend, and I doubt you love him any less because of it. In fact, if your tender-hearted mother had her way ten years ago, you would've had a half-blood brother."
"WHAT!?" Draco said clearly shocked.
"Get your mind out of the gutter boy. I'm talking about Harry Potter. We applied to adopt him when he was orphaned as a baby but were turned down."
"You and mother were… turned down? But you're Malfoys! How could that happen?"
"Some nasty rumours were circulating about our possible continued Death Eater connections. The ministry didn't feel they could justify placing the boy who lived with anyone even remotely in doubt," Lucius shrugged. "Potter's loss."
"But Draco… that reminds me. Harry Potter should be starting Hogwarts this year too, he's just two months younger that yourself. The Potters were quite well off it. It'd behove you to make an effort to befriend him," Narcissa said, placing a hand over that of her son giving it a reassuring squeeze.
Draco looked doubtful, but not totally unwilling.
"From the rumours your father's heard at the Ministry, he was raised by muggles. Therefore, he might need some help to become acclimated to our world, and someone to guide him in our customs. As such, he'll owe that person a great personal debt, a debit not soon to be forgotten or lightly repaid. However, muggle manners aren't the best so you may have to make the first move, offer him your hand in friendship."
"I will Mother," Draco promised as he got up to go into the manor to get ready for dinner. As he closed the tall diamond-paned french doors behind him, he heard his mother admonishing his father.
"Lucius! You promised me you weren't going to voice any more of intolerant ideas in front of our son!"
"I didn't Cissa."
"Then what do you call what you just said?"
"What in particular did I say to give you cause to take offence my dear? I only told the truth."
"The truth as you see it… 'nothings shouldn't try to be somethings'… what was that all about?"
"And you think differently?"
"At least I don't say it openly."
"If looks could kill my sweet, you'd be the queen of the Death Eaters. If we were still members, of course."
"And you my love, would be their king."
Draco shook his head as he headed upstairs to change.
Talking with his parents had just confused him more.
It didn't make him feel any better.
Not at all.