Chapter Three
Draco was eleven when he first met the Boy who Lived.
He was at King's Cross Station with Mother and Father, surrounded by the crowd of parents and students and porters pushing trolleys piled high with overstuffed trunks. Under the skylight that basked the platform in sunlight, friends greeted each other delightedly after a long summer of being apart, parents struggled to deliver last-minute reminders to their children who were clearly more eager to catch up on gossip, and younger siblings shrieked as they chased each other about the station. The air was simmering with excitement for the upcoming school year, but while Draco was just as enthusiastic, he was slightly different. His eyes were fixed impatiently in the distance, waiting for the Express to roll into view, but rather than bouncing on his feet or fidgeting, he stood perfectly still, as calm and composed as a little adult.
Hogwarts was the most prestigious boarding school in the United Kingdom, and yes, it did have a rather unconventional name, but there was no denying its renown. The education it provided was the most superior in the world, and only the wealthiest or the most intelligent students were allowed to enroll. It was Draco's first year there, and he was more than ready for it. He had been homeschooled his entire life up to that moment, and was tired of being kept in the Manor all day and bored to tears by his tutors. He couldn't wait to explore Hogwarts' halls and courtyards, meet exciting new teachers, and friends! Draco hardly had any friends, and he couldn't wait to find himself companions…
"Draco, darling, will you stop fidgeting?" Mother sighed. She was dressed stylishly, a picture of elegance and grace, and looked distinctly uncomfortable surrounded in the chaos of a bustling train station.
"Sorry, Mother," Draco apologized. Despite his best efforts, anticipation still fizzed in his bloodstream like champagne bubbles, and must have started fidgeting unconsciously. He forced himself to still immediately.
"What's taking the Express so long?" Father sounded irritated and glanced at his pocket-watch. Draco knew that a string of muttered curses and criticism was coming next, but right at the moment, two burly men came up to them, their wives and children trailing behind. Immediately, every trace of annoyance vanished from Father's face and was replaced by a well-practiced smile. "Crabbe, Goyle."
Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle nearly tripped over each other to greet Father first, and Draco found himself facing Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Both of them were short and stocky, wearing stupid grins on their ruddy faces, and Draco forced himself to smile as well. "Hello, Vincent. Hello, Gregory."
"Hello, Draco," Vincent leaned forward eagerly, and Draco wrinkled his nose when he caught a whiff of sweat. "Are you excited for Hogwarts?"
"I am," Draco said politely, but dismay twisted in his stomach. He knew Vincent and Gregory from the occasional joint tutoring sessions, and they certainly were nice enough, but to put it bluntly, they weren't the brightest crayons in the box. Vincent didn't master the alphabet until last year, and Gregory still couldn't tell the difference between right and left. Those classes and the short playdates that followed were frustrating ordeals, and honestly, Draco wanted to have friends at Hogwarts that were smart and funny.
Right at that moment, a loud whistle pierced through the air, and everybody rushed to the edge of the platform as a majestic crimson train rolled to a halt before them. Brakes screeched and plumes of steam gushed from its engines, flooding the station with smoke. The passenger doors opened with a hiss, and the crowd dissolved into a flurry of movement. Parents hugged and kissed their children fiercely before letting them run with their friends into the train, and porters hurried to load the students' belongings into a luggage car.
"Have an incredible year, my darling," Mother leaned down and kissed Draco on both of his cheeks. She smiled at him fondly, her eyes shining with affection, and Draco blushed. Drawing himself away from his mother's embrace, he turned to his father. A childish part of him hoped that he would lean down as well, to pat him on the shoulder and wish him a wonderful year, but even at eleven years old, Draco knew that it would never happen.
"Make me proud, son." Father said simply. Those words were never meant to be an encouragement. Every letter was a command.
"I will, Father." Draco looked up at his father's face. It was a hard face, one that was used to issuing orders that dared not be disobeyed. Resolve hardened in Draco's chest, and he straightened his spine and squared his shoulders. He would get the best grades. He would be the best athlete. He would make the most friends. He would not let his father down.
"Good." Father nodded curtly.
Another whistled pierced through the air, and students still on the platform hurried to enter the passenger doors before they closed. Draco embraced his mother one last time before hurrying to where Vincent and Gregory waited for him at an entrance, and stepped into the train just as the doors hissed shut. He glanced out the window to see Mother waving at him, her face brimming with pride, but Father was already striding down the platform towards an exit, talking busily into his phone.
The engines steamed, the gears rumbled, and steam poured from the chimney and fogged the windows. With one final whistle, the Hogwarts Express began its journey.
"Where'd you want to sit?" Gregory asked from beside him.
"I suppose we'll see," Draco brushed past them and headed down the narrow hallway. He glanced at the compartments, but every one he passed were filled. However, midway through the car, he stopped. There was a plump blond boy and a tall ginger lad sitting in the compartment, but what caught his attention was the boy they were talking to – the one with black hair, green eyes, and a scar shaped like a lightning bolt on his forehead.
It was Harry Potter. The Boy who Lived
Everybody has heard of Voldemort – the notorious kingpin of the largest empire of crime whose influence stretched across the globe, the lord of the underworld with leaders of every criminal organization bowing at his feet – but nobody knew his true identity. Everybody knew of the things he did, that he controlled the drug trade and trafficking rings and that he was even involved in countless assassinations, but nobody knew his true name nor his physical appearance. He was difficult to trace, impervious to capture, and impossible to be held accountable for his crimes.
Until James Potter and Lily Evans. James Potter came from a wealthy family with plenty of influence, and Lily Evans was one of the brightest investigative journalists of her time. The combination of Potter's influence and Evans' intelligence mixed with their determination to bring down Voldemort's empire of crime sent them voyaging across the globe gathering evidence and chasing leads. Four years later, and just after the young couple welcomed their son to the world, their mission was finally complete. They discovered the identity of Voldemort, and with its revelation to the public, was ready to bring him to justice.
However, Voldemort had different plans. That night, the lord of the underworld himself came to the Potters' home. He killed James Potter defending his family at the door, and cut down Lily Potter who died protecting her son. He reached for the baby in the cradle, but right at that moment, the police arrived, breaking down the front door and storming up the house. Not wanting to be captured, Voldemort spared the child and fled, and his secret remained safe.
The world mourned the death of James and Lily Potter, the brave young couple who lost their lives to a ruthless villain. Secretary of State Tom Marvolo Riddle delivered a particularly moving speech about how it was one of the greatest injustices in history. And their son, Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived, was sent to live with his only existing relatives, his aunt and uncle.
Until now. Harry Potter was sitting in the Hogwarts Express, ready for his first-year of school, and Draco absolutely couldn't wait to meet him.
He opened the door eagerly and made his way in. There was only one empty seat left in the compartment, so he took it, making himself comfortable. When he glanced up, he realized that everybody was staring at him awkwardly. That was when he realized that Vincent and Gregory were still fidgeting at the door.
"Not enough space for all of us," Vincent mumbled.
"Go find another compartment to sit in, then." Draco replied dismissively. Vincent and Gregory closed the door and trundled away.
"That wasn't very nice," the ginger boy frowned.
Draco glanced at him. The carroty hair and freckled faces seemed slightly familiar… right! The Weasleys! He'd heard Father talking about them before, a family that had been respected for founding Weasley Automobiles but now had their business failing due to their incapability to keep up with the times, and Draco remembered more than a few pointed comments about how it must be miracle for Arthur Weasley to afford the school fees for all his children.
"Too bad for them. Those idiots don't deserve to be here, anyway, if it weren't for their parents' money. Speaking of which, how did your parents afford to send you here anyway? Isn't your family business bankrupt by now?" Draco said haughtily.
Weasley turned crimson and began to splutter, "No, my family's business is doing fine!" but Draco paid him no attention. He turned to face Harry. "You're Harry Potter, aren't you?"
The boy's green eyes flashed with surprise, but he nodded.
"I'm Draco Malfoy," Draco introduced himself. He couldn't stop the excitement from entering his voice as he said, "Which House do you think you're getting into? I bet it's Slytherin, because everyone knows that Slytherin is the best, and that's where I'll be going too! We're going to have a great time, you and I, and our first year at Hogwarts is going to be incredible!"
He looked up after his rant, expecting to see Harry's face light up with excitement at the thought of all the amazing things they were going to do together and perhaps contain even a little bit of awe that the only child of the Malfoy family chose him first to be his friend, but what Draco did not expect whatsoever was rejection.
"No, thank you," Harry said politely. Unlike the Weasley, who now stared at Draco with open disgust or the blond boy gaping in shock, Harry's face was carefully indifferent, but the traces of distaste that leaked through the mask of neutrality was undeniable. "I think I'll stick with Ron and Neville."
Right at that moment, the door opened to reveal a first-year girl with bushy brown hair. Seeing that the compartment was full, she turned away, but Harry stopped her, asking, "Are you looking for a seat?"
"Yeah," the girl replied. She had a rather bossy know-it-all voice. "But there aren't any seats left."
"Malfoy's just leaving," Weasley was grinning rather meanly, perhaps looking forward to seeing Draco protest, but he refused to give him that satisfaction. Shrugging disdainfully, he stood up, pointed his nose in the air, and stepped out of the compartment.
Even though the girl closed the door after she entered, Draco still heard snippets of their conversation. The word "git" was thrown around a few times. So was "spoiled" and "arrogant."
He hurried down the hallway and felt his face burn with humiliation. What had happened? He just wanted to be friends with Harry. All he did was to hope that Harry might be in the same House as him. But why did they react with such disgust? What had Draco done wrong?
The next few compartments he passed were all full, but at the end of the car, found one that was still relatively empty. He opened the door cautiously and peered in. It was occupied by two first-years. One of them was a striking girl with short black hair and a slightly squashed face. She wasn't ugly, but there was something distinctly pug-like about her features. The other was a rather good-looking boy with a chocolatey complexion, looking thoughtfully out the window at the scenery rolling by.
"Is this seat taken?" Draco asked.
"You can have it," the girl flashed a smile at him. She stuck out a hand. "I'm Pansy, and that's Blaise. Who're you?"
"I'm Draco Malfoy," Draco answered, shaking it. He hesitated. "What House do you think you'll be getting into?"
"Slytherin, because everyone knows that that's the best. Blaise thinks so too." The girl answered easily. She glanced at Draco curiously. "How about you?"
"Same!" Draco beamed. Happiness and relief flooded his heart, and the humiliation and anxiety he felt earlier vanished as he sat down with his new friends – his true friends.