AU. Her father had given her one task for her first year at Hogwarts: befriend the boy who lived. However, that was before Druella Malfoy met the blabbering fool with the shaggy hair and smudged glasses. Now, she set upon herself a new goal: stop the blithering idiot before he doomed her whole school, bringing her and her family down with it. An analysis of the seven years of her follow-through of this task at her time at Hogwarts and beyond.
Fem!Draco/Harry
Part I: The First Year
There were few things Druella Lucia Malfoy hated her parents for in her life: her name, the pressure of perfection, prejudice, and preservation, and her fucking name. That was until her father spoke to her in Flourish and Blotts where they first spotted the famous boy named Harry Potter.
Her father, Lucius Malfoy, ever the pompous and prideful man, sneered at the sight of the legendary boy following the giant-man Gameskeeper. Both were hopelessly confused as the other. The small boy followed and the clueless giant wandered. Druella could barely prevent her eyes from rolling into her eye sockets at the sight. Hopeless fools, the whole lot of them.
Her father tapped her shin with his engraved cane, barring her from walking forward to greet the boy. His disproval which danced on the line of disgust filled his voice, "Druella Lucia, that boy there is Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. The boy who defeated our Dark Lord on Halloween night when he was only a year-old. The same boy who somehow stopped the Dark Lord's plans in a single night. The same boy that is heralded a hero in the Ministry."
His disdain frightened the eleven-year-old Druella. His angular jaw clenched tighter as he watched the Gameskeeper lead him out of the shop, the boy running behind to match his large strides. He turned to Druella, his gray eyes sharpening as he distastefully sighed.
"Druella, that boy there is an essential part of the Dark Lord's return. He is the key to the revolution, the restoration of our family reputation." He gently caressed his daughter's chin, forcing her own gray eyes to stare into his. His grip was a bit too tight, but it anchored her in reality; it showed her the urgency of his following request. "You must befriend the boy."
She snorted. "That blithering idiot?" Her sneer was too similar to her own father's, its curl of her lips and disgust was indisputably his. "You must be joking."
"Sadly, my dear Druella, I am not."
With a flick of his cloak and the loud taps of his cane hitting the old shop's floorboards, Druella followed her father to the counter to buy her books. Her mind couldn't wrap around the fact that the disgruntled boy with broken glasses and shaggy clothes was the hero that the common Wizarding folk praised and the pureblood elitists cursed. Him, a boy of nothing special? No, she couldn't believe it.
And that was her first mistake.
As she was sized in Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, she saw the same boy walk into the shop. Politely, he nodded as Madam Malkin asked if he was attending Hogwarts. The boy seemed smaller compared to the mauve-wearing squat with his meek demeanor. This boy with no air of authority or confidence defeated old Voldemort, one of the most powerful wizards of his time? Unbelievable.
Madam Malkin walked him to a raised platform beside her. Of course, Father had planned this. Rolling her eyes, Druella looked forward, ignoring the boy. So what if her Father wanted her to "befriend" him; he was not the kind Druella wanted to be associated with. Her friends needed to be confident, preferably with a spine and without a submissive disposition. This boy was, and probably could never be, that. Still, her father's suffocating grip and eyes watched her in her mind.
Inhaling deeply, Druella tried her best at small talk that an eleven-year-old could possibly do.
"Hullo." Druella turned her head to the boy. Up close, she saw that his dark hair could be a brilliant black had he actually cared for the mess, taking time to comb and condition the monstrosity. He was thin, knobbly so as if he never ate enough which seemed preposterous as surely he was a growing boy and they eat everything. His round glasses were held up close with old and fraying pieces of clear paper-like appendages. They were cracked, smudged, and too big and round for his face shape. He was awfully pale, so pale that it probably sent her family flying after their money. However, he had wonderfully bright green eyes. Emerald like Slytherin's seal and her family's crest. At least he was somewhat promising.
She gave a closed-lipped smile, never allowing others to see a real smile. As her mother said, witches could never grace men with their wiles too soon lest they think her of a whore. Still, she felt some discomfort in speaking with him. He looked awfully shy and uncomfortable as her.
"Hogwarts, too?" She continued.
"Yes." said the boy.
"My name is Druella Malfoy, but please refrain from that calling me that. I'd prefer Dru."
"Um, alright then." The boy was even more sheepish as he bowed his head.
"And your name would be...?" Dru irritably asked. Honestly, it seemed like the boy had no manners whatsoever. Where did he come from? Where had he been hiding these past ten years?
"Oh! Harry, Harry Potter."
"Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Harry." She finally turned to him, watching him slightly shake his head, like he was berating himself for being so stupid. "My father is in the other shop with my mother, searching for an animal companion for me. We will move on from there to the wand shop. Hopefully, I can bully Father into buying me a new broom for Quidditch. Honestly, Quidditch shouldn't be banned from the first years! It would save a lot of time training and-"
Druella could be forward and a fast talker, but she knew when her audience had lost interest or was hopelessly lost in her words. Unsurprisingly, Harry Potter was the second option, his mouthing slightly gapping like a shored fish.
"Sorry, but it seems like you're not following." Dru unabashedly said. Potter flushed red in embarrassment. "Well, what are you not following?"
"Um... what is Quidditch?"
Druella could not believe what he had asked. What is Quidditch? What is Quidditch?!
"What is Quidditch?!" Father would not like the loss of her composure as she yelped at the clueless, blithering idiot. "What do you mean what is Quidditch?! Are you not a wizard-" Oh, oh! So that was where he was during the lost decade-he was living with the Muggles. She saw his flushing beet red face now, refusing to acknowledge her. She sighed, annoyed at his lack of thick skin and her raised voice. "Oh, I seem to see the misunderstanding then, Harry Potter. You were raised in the Muggle world, weren't you?"
He nodded. Druella smiled again, hoping to salvage this meeting so her Father would not disown her.
"That's understandable as Muggles do not know that sport. Quidditch is a popular Wizarding sport, much like Muggle, what do you call it, rugabee?"
"Rugby." Harry amended, sheepishly shrugging at her.
Druella nodded. "My apologies, rug-bee, but on brooms which is far superior in my opinion. Anyways, it is a sport that Hogwarts participates in, but bars first-years, like us, from participating in which I think is preposterous! Just wait, Harry Potter, when I'm on the field, they will know better."
Harry simply nodded, still confused about what Quidditch was and how "brooms" played a role. Still, he admired the girl's passion. It was something he lacked, her arrogance. However, he wasn't sure if it was quality he aspired for, as he saw much of Dudley in her pale and angular face and demanding voice.
Before the boy could reply, Madam Malkin tapped his shoulder. "That's you done, my dear." Harry stepped off the platform.
"Well, I will see you at Hogwarts, I suppose." Dru miffed, annoyed at how her conversation was cut short. Father would not be pleased.
Harry nodded before leaving the shop to meet the Gameskeeper. The giant had ice cream in hand, smiling cheerily at the small boy. Druella wondered if her Father would bring her a sweet treat like that with a warm smile. She scowled; how silly of her to think that.
Like Druella had presumed, she didn't meet The Boy Who Lived again until right before the feast.
She was standing with Daphe Greengrass and Pansy Parkison, excitedly chatting about being sorted into Slytherin and the year to come with the "celebrity" in their class.
Pansy snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "Speak of the legend and he shall appear. He's talking to the Weasels."
Druella turned and observed the shaggy boy chatting with the red-haired, red-faced boy. With his freckles, hand-me-down robes and flushed face, he was definitely a Weasley those blood traitors. When the Weasley boy turned towards her and her friends, he immediately scowled at her. In return, Druella rolled her eyes and looked away. Of course, he was a Weasley. He hated her and her blood before he had even talked to her, let alone confirm who she was. If she was a Malfoy, she was despised and spit upon. She was all too well accustomed to his older sibling's cruel looks when her family walked in Diagon Alley. Why Harry Potter would ever be associated with such rude people is beyond her.
"Excuse me," Druella said. Without a second glance toward's Daphne' surprised face, she walked over to the Harry Potter.
"Hullo, again, Harry Potter. Looks like I presumed rightly." She greeted, smiling at the boy with her closed lips. His new robes helped him look more put together, but his doe-eyed expression said otherwise. Surely his naivety would hurt him-and surely it will help her become his friend.
"Hi, Dru." He sheepishly greeted. The Weasley only glared harder. If he stared at her any harder with that scowl on his face, Dru figured his face would combust. The thought of it made her giggle.
"Penny for thought on which house you'll join?" She politely asked. Truly, she wanted to know which House believed they would be blessed with this so-called hero. Surely he would think of himself as such.
"Um, not sure, to be honest..." Of course, a vague statement.
"Well, surely Slytherin would enjoy having The Boy Who Lived add to the esteem collection of powerful and successful witches and wizards who bear the serpent crest." Dru crooned, happy to boast about her family's Hogwarts House.
Apparently, that only angered the Weasel's temper. "Like Harry would wanna join the house filled with dark wizards and murderers!" He spat at her venomously. Dru was not troubled by his comment, used to the misconstrued image of her house. Still, she narrowed her eyes at the red-faced freckled boy.
"Well, that is up for Potter to decide then isn't it Weasley?" She turned back to Harry to see him narrow his eyes at her hostility towards the boy. What, she was only defending her house and reputation? Sighing, she locked her hands behind her back, slowly backing away from the unlikely duo. "See you at the Feast, Potter. Weasley."
She ignored the defamatory comments the Weasel boy was all too happy to share with Harry. She had thick skin; she was a Malfoy, and that was something everyone wanted to be.
Druella watched Harry Potter receive a large and warm welcome as he sat at the Gryffindor table. Ronald, the Weasley boy from earlier, and his twins cheered the loudest. He was all the happy to give the Slytherin table a smug look before excitedly turning his head to brag to Potter about how amazing and stupendous and bloody brilliant Gryffindor was compared to the puny houses, especially the rotted serpents. Well, that is what Dru assumed he was doing. Potter was smiling to everyone, a look of appeasement and relief fell upon his face as he began chatting with the fellow first-year boys. A bushy-haired girl was also speaking to him, raving about something. Probably the history of the castle, Dru presumed based upon her overhearing the girl earlier gushing about Hogwarts: A History in the Hogwarts Express.
It only infuriated Dru more as she couldn't understand why Potter would want to be in a house filled with arrogant, blithering idiots with no common sense of decency or intelligence. They were all stupid wizards and witches that thought with their fists and wands first rather than offer any sense of reason to a presented situation as her Father claimed. And she believed him whole-heartedly as she thought back to Weasley's hostility towards her. She hadn't even said a word to him before he chose to hate her. Of course, their family's rivalry goes back to the forbidden engagement and marriage of her mother's great uncle's daughter, Cedrella Black, with the Muggle-enthusiast Septimus Weasley; also the fact that the Weasley's were blood traitors, the whole Muggle-loving lot. Yes, family business was tricky after all, even with the matters of reputation and prestige.
What infuriated, even more, was the lack of decorum and appeasement from her fellow first-years, especially from the likes of Crabbe and Goyle. She could not believe Father encourage to pick one of those two boys to be a likely spouse. At least Mother had the decency to suggest Theodore Nott, a more pleasing candidate.
The first-years boys, barely seeing Potter speak with the Weasley boy, decided that harassment and aloofness were the better manners of convincing The Boy Who Lived to join their house. Honestly, she believed she would be surrounded by idiots had it not been for Daphne and Blaise, probably the only sensible people in her house, and Pansy when the mood strikes her. It was as if the others didn't understand the importance of a favored individual, beloved by the common public, would join their house. Blithering idiots the lot of them!
"If you keep scowling like that those wrinkles will never go away. And on such a pretty face, love!" Daphne teased her as she spread jam on a warm biscuit. "Surely you'd never find a suitable husband then!"
"And then you'll be forced in the woes and loneliness of spinsterhood!" Pansy added, cackling as she stuffed a pastry into her mouth.
Dru only smiled at them before digging into her soup. "Then I suppose I'd drag you two with me."
"Well, only if you could afford my dowry." Daphne moved her foot as Dru tried to kick under the table. "Sadly, I think I'm a bit out of your price range love."
"Who cares about all that stuff?!" Theo sneered. "Surely we need to focus on the House Cup."
"We have time for that, Theo. We'll win again, that's for sure. Especially with Professor Snape cracking down on Gryffindors the past few years." Blaise paused slightly as he lowered his voice. "At least that's what I've heard."
Dru rolled her eyes at the boy's theatrics. She said, "Well, I'll be focusing on practicing for the Quidditch tryouts next year. Wait until I get out on that field, and that will surely show Gryffindor who's champ."
"That is if you can stay on the broom for that long!"
"Get off it, Pansy!" Dru snapped. "I'm good and it's a loss that first-years can't play. Honestly, our house would surely win if only they let us play."
"Or let you play." Daphne surmised as she delicately bit into her biscuit.
"Precisely!"
The rest of the feast was spent jeering on who would win the Quidditch cup with the current line up. Dru never once looked back at the Gryffindor table. If Potter wanted to be with those buffoons, fine. She'd show him how stupid his mistake was to consider being one of those haughty imbeciles.
Classes began and Druella couldn't be happier with how well she was doing. Most of the material she had already learned from her Mother's hired private lessons from a governess. She was particularly excelling in Potions, no thanks to the biased teachings of Professor Snape. She didn't mind the leniency he gave to her and fellow Slytherins. He was the only one to show any favor at all. The other professors were quick to berate her in other classes, especially in her Transfiguration classes with Professor McGonagall. The old hag didn't appreciate her forwardness and jokes in class. Her friends did though, and that's all that matters.
Unsurprisingly, Slytherin was already ahead in the House Cup. She was all the more happy to boast about that to Mother in her letters back home, along with her excellent academic report in the first few weeks of the classes. Already, Mother had sent Dru a beautiful quill set to congratulate her on her marvelous start at Hogwarts.
Druella was most excited for the first class of flying lessons with Madam Hooch later this afternoon. She couldn't wait to show her skills to her friends and those Gryffindorks out on the Pitch. She wasn't the least bit nervous; she was born to play Quidditch.
She carried this confidence as she walked onto the Pitch with Daphne and Pansy, Blaise and the other Slytherin boys just behind her. It was hard to keep her excitement from bubbling over. Mother's words rang into her head: composure best suits the lady with class and prestige. Daphne nudged her when a giggle escaped from her. Dru looked to see her friend rolling her eyes at Dru's obvious glee.
She stood beside her in a line as Madam Hooch waited for the Gryffindors to show up on the Pitch. Dru snickered to herself; of course, they would be late, those idiots. Running onto the Pitch, Dru saw Potter and his sidekicks, Weasley and Granger, panting as they stood with their housemates in an unorganized line.
"Well, what are you all waiting for?" Madam Hooch barked at them, specifically glaring her yellow hawk eyes at the Gryffindors. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."
Dru stood beside her broom, displeased with how old it looked and its odd-angle twigs. She would have to speak with Father and see if she could convince him to finance new brooms for the school's use. Of course to help out the school, not to improve their image at all.
"Stick out your right hand over your broom and say, 'Up!'" Madam Hooch instructed as she walked down the middle of the lines.
"Up!" She confidently shouted. Instantly, her broom jumped into her hand. Looking around, she saw that only a few were in her housemates' hands. Even Potter, who she assumed had never even seen a broomstick like this, had his in his right hand. He seemed shocked but excited. Some, like Neville Longbottom's, hadn't moved at all.
Walking down the aisle again, she instructed the class how to correctly mount the broom without sliding down the stick of it, and how to grip it. Easily, Dru accomplished these tasks with nods of approval from Madam Hooch. She flourished under her praise, laughing to herself as she saw Weasley glare at her when he struggled to mount it.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard!" ordered Madam Hooch. Her short, spikey hard blew slightly in her face from the breeze. Still, she was intimidating as ever. "Keep your brooms steady rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle - three - two-"
She never finished her countdown as Longbottom prematurely kicked off the ground too hard. She yelled for him to come back, but he was like a cork out of a wine bottle, shooting up high into the air. Dru presumed he was about twelve, now twenty feet high. The blithering idiot! She could see the panic on his face. He gasped, and suddenly was slipping off the broom and- WHAM!- a nasty crack followed the sound as Neville Longbottom met the ground, face down, in a heap of limbs. His broomstick never returned back to the ground, instead, it began lazily gliding over to the Forbidden Forest not too far from the Pitch.
Madam Hooch ran over to the boy, her face as white as his when she muttered, "Broken wrist. Come on, boy- it's all right, up you get!"
Turning to the class who had wide eyes and opened mouths, she stared coolly at them all. Even Druella felt chills down her spine as she ordered, "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'. Come on, dear." Slowly, she and Longbottom hobbled off with her arm wrapped around him.
Druella looked back to the ground where Longbottom took off for his unexpected and disastrous flight. She saw something shine in the grass- his remembrall. She remembered him receiving this gift during lunch at the Great Hall earlier that day. Quickly, she snatched it off the ground, inspecting its quality. Slowly, it turned red.
"Hey!" She turned to see Hermione Granger furiously stomping up to her, flinging her hand out. "That does not belong to you! Give it back so we can give it back to Neville!"
Annoyed at her rude assumption she was stealing it and at her bratty attitude, Druella defensively stepped back, gripping the prized toy tighter.
"Sorry, Granger. But I don't take orders from the likes of you." She sneered. The Slytherin boys and Pansy snickered at her retort. She heard one of the boys, most likely Crabbe or Goyle, snicker to themselves 'Nice, calling her a mudblood!' But she hadn't, Dru thought. She was referring to her haughtiness and arrogance; of course, they would make it more vulgar than it was.
"Shove off, Malfoy," Harry growled at her, stepping in front of Granger. Dru was surprised. She had never seen him other than a state of vagueness and neutrality. Maybe he did have balls after all. Time to test this theory.
"Hmm, let's see if you can actually catch me first." She smirked as she easily mounted the broom, expertly rising a few feet in the air. She held back an annoyed look as she saw him easily follow her up into the air. She assumed it was his first time riding a broomstick, and she would use that to her advantage. "Oh, oh, oh! Impressive Potter, but I can feel it loosen in my grasp." Throwing with all her might, she sent the toy away from the Pitch, towards the castle. "Seemed it slipped. Oops!"
But Potter didn't hear her retort as he already zoomed in the air after Longbottom's toy. Eyes widen in shock, she watched him fly faster and faster. Slowly falling towards the ground, she could feel her fury build into the pits of her stomach as he dodged all the protruding obstacles in his way. She was down-right growling as he soon came back, remembrall in his right hand.
All the Gryffindors cheered as he landed on the ground. Frustrated at his beginner's luck, she huffed and walked away, not even afraid of Madam Hooch's wrath as she broke her one rule. She couldn't believe her eyes. How could he, a boy who has lived among Muggles and never even laid eyes on a broomstick, let alone ride one, beat her? How could a shaggy, naive, and sheepish boy with no real confidence, beat her at her own game? Who was this boy?
She ignored Daphne and Pansy's gossip later on in the common room before supper. She read a book, boiling in her own annoyance until she heard Daphne's trilling voice.
"Apparently, Professor McGonagall wasn't even going to punish him for riding the broomstick. In fact, I've heard she told Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor's Quidditch captain, to let him on the team as a seeker! He'll be the youngest House player in a century!"
"SHE DID WHAT?!"
Druella was still fuming about how awful today had turned out to be. While she was spared from punishment thanks to her housemates vouching for her, she was still infuriated that Harry Potter was to be Gryffindor's newest seeker. Apparently, Headmaster Dumbledore ben the rules, claiming that the first years were not to own broomsticks, therefore, they are allowed to participate in the Quidditch matches. While she was delighted to hear she, too, could play by that rule, the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, refused to let her, a first-year girl to play when they had Terence Higgs, the current seeker for their team. She was beyond appalled at his blatant sexism that barred her from joining the team.
It made her despise Harry Potter all the more. Of course, the wonder boy could do whatever he wanted. He was beloved by all students and Professor's, excluding Professor Snape. He was The Boy Who Lived, therefore, Dumbledore's favorite. She worked for her grades, practiced her skills, and worked to become the young witch she was today. Yes, Father helped here and there with the right push, but her passion drove her all the way to the top. Then, here comes this boy with no training and no background, easily knocking her off the top. She was furious.
She glared at him throughout dinner, ignoring Daphne and Pansy's worried looks. She didn't care that she lost her composure and was being petty. She had every bloody right to be angry.
"Glaring daggers into him won't magically fix the situation, Dru." Daphne gently said, squeezing her hand. "It's best to move on and focus on other things."
"Why would I do that when there are blatant favoritism and sexism factors working against me, Daphne!" Druella hissed back, stabbing her salad with her fork.
"If only you could give him the punishment he deserves." snickered Pansy as she demolished her steak.
Druella stopped stabbing her food, thoughtfully chewing on Pansy hidden suggestion.
"Pansy, you're brilliant!"
"I'm what now?" She muffled through her steak.
Druella smirked as she formulated a perfect plan in her mind. "I will only get justice if I serve it myself. Thanks, love. Just follow my lead after dinner. I think a little congratulations are in order for Potter."
Watching the Weasley twins leave Potter and company, she elbowed Daphne and Pansy to follow her lead as she began to approach Potter at his table.
Slamming her hand down beside him, Druella smiled down at him. "I'll admit where I see a fair competitor, Potter. Nice job catching the little toy. Impressive, really."
"What do you want, snake?!" Weasley hissed, ironically, at the smirking girl. She shrugged.
"Only to say congratulations to Potter for being the youngest in over a century to join a Hogwarts Quidditch team." Dru reveled in their shocked faces. "Yes, the word does get around fast here, ya know?"
"Scram, Malfoy, before I'll hex you." Weasley threatened again. Granger glared at her while Harry narrowed his eyes.
"Like to see you try that with that hand-me-down wand, Weasel," Pansy said with her Cheshire grin. Daphne only inspected her nails, bored with all the chit chat.
"Ya know, Dru," Harry said, staring her down. "You're awfully brave with your housemates around."
Perfect, he took the bait. "Please, I could mop you up with that shaggy hair and smudged glasses any time, Potter." She stood up straight, resting her hand on her hip as she returned his stare. "Up for a little duel, Potter? The trophy room at midnight, or are you scared that Professor McGonagall can't save you?"
"He'll be there, Malfoy!" Ron quickly bluffed, cutting off Potter before he could answer. "You're gonna regret messing with us."
"Surely, Weasley." She miffed. Turning away, she walked towards the exist before calling out one last thing as she loved having the last word. "I would make sure to clean up those glasses, Potter. Wanna have a fair chance and all. It would awfully unfair of me to fight a blind, hopeless first-year after all."
She walked out of the Hall, her friends in tow before Potter could reply. When they were immediately out of earshot, Daphne glared at Dru.
"You'll get all of us expelled, ya know, and your daddy wouldn't be able to bail us out!"
Druella nodded. "I know Daphne. That's why we're not going tonight."
"What do you mean?! You're not chicken are you, Druella?" Pansy loved her name more then she did.
"No, Pansy. But, as our duty of good Hogwarts students, we should let the faculty know of any students breaking school rules, right? Like, say, leaving the common room past curfew?" Druella was practically singing as her plan was coming into fruition.
Daphne nudged her as she laughed at the implication. Pansy, bless her heart, realized a few moments later with her own giggle.
"Sneaky as a serpent, Dru. I love it!"
Dru smirked as they saw Filch walking down the hall towards them. She bouncing on her toes as she told him of rumors she'd heard of a magical duel between students that was going to happen tonight at midnight near the Trophy Room. Potter will surely get the punishment that he deserves after his little stunt today. Druella couldn't be any prouder of her plan. She felt light as a feather as she fell asleep that night, excited to hear of the news that wonder boy was caught sneaking out. Her dreams were peaceful that night.
Come the next morning though, Dru quickly realized at breakfast that Harry, Weasley, Granger, and Longbottom weren't caught at all. They had somehow escaped Filch's detection. She felt her anger grow at that useless man couldn't even catch first-years. Honestly!
She watched as Harry received a package that morning-a new broomstick! And not any old broomstick, but a Nimbus Two Thousand! She couldn't believe her eyes as a rule after the rule was bent for the blithering idiot. He was nothing compared to her. What did he have that she didn't? She couldn't handle it anymore.
She saw Professor Flitwick down the aisle. A sensible professor, surely he would see the favoritism at work here!
"Professor Flitwick!" Druella called, standing from her seat to come to stand by him and Potter. "Isn't it against the rules for a first-year to own a broom?" She almost reveled in Potter's face as he frowned at the reminder. "Wouldn't it be fair to all first-year students that Potter returns the broom? I mean, all students must follow school policy; no one should be above it."
Sighing Professor Flitwick said, "Yes, Miss Malfoy. While that is most certainly true, Mr. Potter is in a unique circumstance where, according to Headmaster Dumbledore, he is allowed to own a broomstick." Druella tried to argue, but Professor Flitwick was quick to intercede. "That is all, Miss Malfoy. I would suggest returning to your breakfast with your housemates. Thank-you."
Embarrassed at the rejection and infuriated by her luck, she huffed and walked back to her table, head held high. According to Mother, never let others know when they have won, composure and class is of the essence.
For the rest of the day, Druella pondered how Potter kept getting away with all of these things. She concluded that it's because of his fame. With his fame, comes the power to live above the others, outside the rules of society set out upon them. That must be why Father wanted her to become friends with him so much. He held so much more power and influence than the blithering idiot was even aware of. Imagine if she were to be friends with him, and made suggestions of things for him to do or think about... So much would be able to get done. She wouldn't have this glass ceiling imposing in on her anymore. She wouldn't feel as suffocated.
Her realization made her grow in envy, however. Envy of the boy with supposedly everything. Envy of the boy where life obviously came easily to him. Envy of the boy that everyone instantly likes and cheers for. Envy of all the things he gets to be, of all of his freedom and power.
It was then, as Druella sat in the common room, writing an essay, that she decided she hated Harry Potter. No, she could never be friends with his sort. No, she would have to disappoint Father on that part...
But, what Father doesn't know won't hurt him.
Without her realizing, two months had passed at her time at Hogwarts, and her jealousy of Harry Potter only grew.
He was an average student, that much was clear to Druella. Without Granger's help and the cooing of professors, he would surely be an acceptable and poor student at best. That infuriated her more as she rarely received praise from her outstanding marks. She was an intelligent and talented witch, whereas he was average at best, with the affinity for Quidditch.
This translated into the first game of the season in November. After the horrendous troll incident during Halloween, all eyes were focused on the first match of the season: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. All eyes were on Harry Potter. Everyone was whispering if he was as good as the Weasley twins boasted. Druella only rolled her eyes at that. Surely, he was just a boy with barely any training. He couldn't be that good, right?
She bit her own words when he coughed up the snitch, waving it in the air as the announcer continuously cheered that Gryffindor beat Slytherin. She was furious at his luck. When will it end? When will he finally realize that he wasn't that special as everyone told him he was?
Soon came December, and along with it, the excitement for the holidays. Druella couldn't say she was particularly cheerful for holiday break. Malfoy Manor would host its annual Winter ball with other members of the Twenty-Eight families, but she planned on staying at Hogwarts that year in hopes to avoid it. Surely her father would boast of her grades and success at Hogwarts, but he would be furious to know she wasn't chummy with The Boy Who Lived as she may have suggested in one of her earlier letters.
Sadly, her father refused.
This irked her more as she left her Potions class with Professor Snape and her housemates. Her foul mood only grew at the sight of Potter, Weasley, and Granger speaking with Hagrid, the Gameskeeper. She never really did like him, frightened by his unkempt clothes, scraggly beard, booming voice, and giant height. He could easily squash or clobber her with any of his pets, and that made her antsy around him.
"Here, let me help you with that Hagrid," Weasley said, motioning towards the gigantic Christmas tree he was towing.
"Of course he would be all over the Gameskeeper position. It would practically be step up from where he spends his time." Druella drawled to her friends as they walked, loud enough for the boy to hear and grow red in the face.
"Why don't you say that to my face you vile, little snake!" He roared, lunging at her.
"Mr. Weasley, I would suggest that you apologize to Miss Malfoy at once for that foul tongue and implicated threat." Professor Snape said with his usual monotone drawl. He glared at the Gryffindor trio. "Five points from Gryffindor for fighting."
He remained impervious to Weasley and Potter's furious faces as he strolled away. Druella couldn't help but feel smug at her small victory. At least Professor Snape wasn't lost in the charm of The Boy Who Lived. That was one of the only good things going for in her rivalry.
She waved goodbye to their furious faces as she laughed with Pansy at their luck. Of course, Daphne remained indifferent, but Druella saw the small smile on her face. Yes, today had been a foul day, but seeing Potter realize he was not above anyone made her feet feel a little lighter. Perhaps she could soldier through another couple more months of his insufferable attitude and luck; maybe the holidays were a time for cheer and joy after all.
Potter changed after she had returned from Holiday. He and his two goons seemed awfully preoccupied with something in their hushed tones and lowered heads during meals. It seemed even more peculiar with their sudden preference of staying in the library for hours on end. Yes, something smelt stinky with those three, and Druella wanted to know what it was.
One afternoon in January, Druella and Pansy were walking from the library after working on Professor Snape's assignment when they saw Neville walking a little farther ahead of them.
"Pansy, mind if we made a quick stop so I could ask Neville some questions?" Druella asked. She knew Neville had been speaking to the trio of troublemakers and wanted to know if he had any whiff of their doings. Surely, he would know something.
"Not a problem, Dru." Pansy grinned, a hop in her step as she walked with her.
"Hullo, Longbottom!" Druella pleasantly called. The fidgety boy flinched as he slowly turned around to face Druella, or, more specifically, Pansy and her Cheshire grin. "Where are you heading now?"
"Um, uh, um..." Longbottom's face froze.
Pansy had no patience. "Well, come on and spit it out already!"
"The loo!" He squeaked, clutching his books tighter to his chest.
Dru only smiled. "Could I ask you a few things first though before you run off?"
Neville slowly shook his head. "Malfoy, I really got to go-"
"Well, bloody hold it, you wanker!" Pansy sneer, pulling out her wand.
"Pansy!" Dru said. "Put that away. I just want a chat with him, not for him to pee through his trousers." She turned back to him, seeing his pale face and the sweat dripping down his brow. She saw him move his feet back.
Suddenly, he moved his feet, pushing himself away from the two Slytherins.
"I don't think so, Longbottom!" Pansy sneered. "Locomotor Mortis!"
Longbottom's legs seized up from underneath him, locking stick-straight in place. He yelped in surprise and pain. He fearfully looked at Druella as she languidly strolled up to the boy. She was annoyed at Pansy's aggressive tactics, thinking of them lacking decorum and dignity, but she needed to know just what Potter was planning. She had to, or else he would get away with it like last time.
"Sorry about that, Longbottom, but a girl has to do what a girl has to do in order to make way around here." Dru shrugged, finally stopping in front of the Gryffindor boy. He was shaking terribly. Dru would've felt sorry for him, but she knew that weak people like him would never get anywhere in life without a hard shove in the right direction. In the end, Dru believed she was doing him a favor by being a little harsh with him. It was for his own good. "So, tell me what Potter, the Weasel, and Granger are planning? Why are they spending so much time in the Library, hmm?"
"I-I-I don't know, Malfoy." His voice raised an octave higher.
"Come now, Longbottom. I don't like liars," She pointed her finger towards Pansy who had an annoyed look on her face as she leaned against the corridor wall. "and I know she just despises them. So, would you please tell us? I'm not one for asking twice..."
His mouth clamped shut as he shook his head. Wow, maybe he did have some balls after all.
Dru sighed. "Bollocks. Well, I guess we'll be on our way then. Have a good day, Longbottom."
She ignored his shouts of protest to remove the curse as she briskly walked back towards her common room, Pansy quickly following behind.
"What was that all for, Dru?" she asked her. "What was with all the questions? Interested in Potter, oh, I see. He's taken quite a bit of space up in that little head of yours."
Dru ignored Pansy's waggling eyebrows. "No," she huffed, "I'm more interested in what he thinks he can get away with. It's not fair that all of these rules are being bent for him, Pans. I'm not letting any more bend just for boy wonder's sake."
With that, she spoke the password for the dormitory, without saying another word towards Pansy. She needed to perform some research and draw up some ideas on just what Potter could be planning. Surely, he was up to no good, and she was the only one who could stop him. Yes, it was a necessity. Besides, she thought to herself, that blithering idiot offers nothing to her that can be considered charming or attractive. He's just a pompous boy who thinks that he deserves everything. Oh, how Dru loved to set that straight!
The day of the first Quidditch match in January left a spark of anxiousness and excitement in the air. Druella and her friends anticipated the heated match between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. If Hufflepuff wins, then Slytherin will surely win the Quidditch Cup! However, if Gryffindor wins... No, that couldn't bloody happen. Potter's luck surely had run out by now with his "impressive" plays as the newest seeker. No, Hufflepuff will win, and then her house would decimate them in the final match.
She carried this confidence as she sat with Pansy and Blaise in the stands, Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode sat a few seats to their left with Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott above them. Weasley, Granger, and Longbottom without Gryffindorks sat below them, excitedly chatting about how they would easily win this match if Potter spotted the Snitch quick enough. Druella snorted at their lunacy; obviously, Terrence Higgs, the more experienced and confident player, would detect it before Potter.
"Yeah, then we can shove that Snitch up Malfoy's ass-" Weasley snickered, before Granger cuffed him in the head, shrilling at his indecency and rudeness. Druella wasn't bothered by the comment, having heard worse from Father's adversaries in the Ministry that would speak of him behind his back. However, she was annoyed at his audacity to see it so blatantly, especially since she was sitting only a few rows behind him.
"Sod off, Weasel," Blaise growled.
Weasley turned his head, glaring. "Well, I would like to see you try with those dainty hands. Come off it now, Malfoy, your high horse. Wouldn't want your knickers in a twist."
Druella seethed at that audacity of this boy. "Well, it seems to me with those hand-me-down robes twisted their way up your arse instead, Weasel."
Weasley grew redder in the face as he stood up. "Better a weasel than a slimy, lying snake like you."
"Please, Weasley. I don't know whether to laugh at you or pity you and your poor family."
"M-Malfoy knock it off!" Neville said, stammering. "He's worth twelve of you at least!"
"And the idiot speaks. Honestly, Longbottom, if brains were gold, you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something!"
"That's it!" Weasley fumed, lunging forward at the girl. However, he tripped over the wooden benches, slamming his face on it. Dru was mortified by the blood dribbling down his nose. This bloody wanker really tried to attack her?
"Serves you right, blood traitor!" Pansy hissed venomously as she grabbed Dru's arm. Dru, still in shock by his actions, mindlessly followed as they moved to different seats, higher up in the stands. The blonde felt horrible for what had happened, but she couldn't forgive Weasely for all the vile things he said and how easily he choose violence over continual verbal discourse. Honestly, what was wrong with that imbecile? "Can't believe that vile vermin tried to attack you, Dru! Honestly, the nerve on that Weasel astounds me. You alright, love?"
"Yea," Dru nodded. "Just peachy."
"Well, we can watch the match from hearing. Surely with Weasley's turn of events, his awful luck will follow in Gryffindor's plays."
It didn't. Shortly after Weasley moved to strike her, Potter caught the Snitch in one of the fastest times in Hogwarts history. Blood perfect irony if you'd ask Dru, but she was too busy cursing that foul little oaf's name and his luck. When will it finally run out? When will she find hers again?
Soon, the cold months of winter melded into the warmer and more pleasant months of spring. After the altercation at the Pitch stands, Dru found herself hating Potter and his goons even more. Whenever the chance was possible, Dru found herself handing out sarcastic remarks and snappy one-liners towards them. During class, walking by them in the hall, or passing them on their way to meals, a cruel smile always followed her words as she cheerily carried on her day. It made her feel immensely satisfied that she was able to bring down those "perfect" students down a few pegs, especially Potter. Yes, she was especially vicious with him.
She didn't see it as harassing, however. No, it was cosmic justice in her eyes. No one else would dare to criticize Potter and his friends, so she was more than willing to fill in that part. So what if she would doc Slytherin a few points here and there? With Snape so vicious in his point-deducting during his class slots, Slytherin was too far in the lead at this point of the year for any of the houses to catch up, especially Gryffindor. She was doing her house and school service with her taunting. Yes, she was only looking at the big picture. When the time came, everyone would realize what a pathetic, meek, and stupid oaf he was. He didn't deserve the fame and favor the title of The Boy Who Lived came with. No, he was an imbecile, a blithering idiot without an inch of earnestly in his body.
Yes, Druella Malfoy truly hated Harry Potter, and she was earnest in her quest to ruin his name, whatever the cost.
And that opportunity came when she, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy were walking the grounds on an evening walk. End-of-the-year exams were looming over their heads, and Pansy suggested that they ditch the studying and actually lived like humans for a change. Crabbe and Goyle-honestly, what use are they for- suggested they ransack the kitchens, but Malfoy needed a breath of fresh air. A girl could only handle the mustiness of the castle before she had the never-ending urge to sneeze embedded into her soul.
As they walked in the crisp and cool evening, Crabbe and Goyle drawled that they wanted to go back inside and check the kitchens for leftovers of supper-"Malfoy, if we haven't a destination in mind, then we ought to make our way back to the kitchens. It's too bloody boring out here!"
"Well, then you and fill your faces then. Pansy and I will actually enjoy the fresh air."
Pansy grimaced. "Actually, love, I was thinking about heading back to the common room. I need to socialize and Nott will be there and-"
"Save it, Pans." Dru huffed. "Go see your boy chum."
Pansy nudged her side playfully before quickly jogging off towards the Castle, leaving her all alone. That was fine by Dru, of course. In fact, it was her plan all along, to bore the three so she could finally get some peace and quiet. Honestly, they were such a ruckus. Yes, Dru most definitely had planned it all out.
She pulled her thick, wool cloak closer to her as she walked down the path by the giant's hut. She was heading towards the Forbidden Forest, wanting to see if it was actually as scary as everyone made it out to be. It was just a forest. Hogwarts had cast barrier enchantments over the whole premise of the castle and its adjacent land, including the Forbidden Forest as Father told her. She was perfectly safe, save from the few magical creatures permitted to live there by the Headmaster. Surely he wouldn't allow any dangerous creatures there, right?
As she walked by the hut, she heard a loud howl sound erupt from the forest, sending chills down her spine.
Immediately, she turned around to head back up the hill. Maybe she would explore the forest another night, preferably with many, many friends beside her. And professors. And Aurors. And Father.
She walked closer to the hut, drawn in by the warmth of its lights and fire inside and the piqued curiosity of what she would see. She would never admit it, but she was always too curious-nosy and pushy according to Daphne-for her own good.
She peered into the window and saw the Gameskeeper speaking to three small individuals. One had frizzy curls, one with red hair and an equally red face, and the third had raven hair with round glasses. She blinked again and realized that it was Potter, Granger, and Weasley. She rolled her eyes. Of course, they were chummy with the unkempt and sloppy Gameskeeper. She snickered to herself as she thought of how Weasley probably right at home in the slob's den, maybe an upgrade from his family's shoe house.
The comment came naturally now. Before his relentless name-calling, slurs, and threat of a physical altercation, Dru didn't like giving in to the harassing that the purebloods loved to do whenever the redheaded family was around. However, she felt no guilt. He had called her worst, saw her as worst before he had even spoken to her. He assumed that she was like her family members before her; he didn't even give her a chance, so why should she now? No, he deserved far worse. Then again, what's a little name-calling going to do? The Weasleys were known for their thick skin and thick skulls.
As Dru peered closer, she saw the trio gathered around Hagrid the Gameskeeper. Huddled in a crouching position, they stared at the thing on a small table that was smoking. It was an orb-shaped item, which made her think of ironsmiths. However, the orb was ... moving.
Her grey eyes widen in realization as she the orb began to crack. No, it wasn't an orb; it was an egg! Dru gasped in shock as she saw a sudden breakage of the egg, a slimy, bony, and scaly wing breaking through. What was that creature? Horns later followed, and soon the baby creature was hatched.
A dragon, she realized. A bloody dragon hatched in the giant's hut! Wait until her father and Professor Snape hear about this!
Too consumed in her thoughts, she was frightened by the sudden shout. She blinked and realized that the trio, the giant, and the baby dragon had seen her. Immediately, Dru ran towards the castle. Her legs pumping, she smiled in glee as she realized that finally, finally, Potter is going to get what's coming to him. After all of these months of being pampered and groomed because of his public status, he was going to be punished for all the rule-bending. Surely his ego will be knocked down a peg or two, and Dru couldn't wait to see his face when the Headmaster berates him, preferably in front of all of Hogwarts! Would he ban from the Quidditch team because of his illegal harboring of the dragon? Dru hoped, praying to any god or deity listening, that it would happen. She couldn't wait to finally show everyone that The Boy Who Lived wasn't as heroic or chivalrous as made out to be.
Dru suddenly slowed to a walk in one of the darkened corridors in realization, however. Stopping, she realized something.
She had no proof.
No proof of the dragon, no proof that Potter and his goons knew about it. No proof that Hagrid was harboring it in his hut. She had nothing. No grounds. Not a single piece of evidence besides her testimony.
She could go straight to Professor Snape and tell him what she saw, but not even he, with all of his own, despise for Potter, would believe her. No professor would, not even her own friends and housemates. No, no one would believe her.
She let out a small scream of frustration, rubbing her hands over her eyes. She was so close. So, so, so close to revealing to the Wizarding world what a fraud Potter was-what a weak, spineless, pathetic oof he was.
She breathed in deeply before resuming her walk to the Slytherin common room. She would not give up, she decided. No, she wouldn't let this stop her. Everyone needed to know. She needed to prove that no one should place their faith in this helpless boy, or else they would all be doomed. No, she needed this to work. And the only way for this to work is for her to find proof.
Yes, she nodded resolutely to herself. She would find her proof. And then everything will be better.
It had to be.
As the week progressed, she was never able to find evidence of the trio knowing of the dragon being kept at the giant's hut. Not a single rumor mill to divulge upon. Not a single piece of suspicious activity for her to follow. She was coming up empty, and it was entirely frustrating.
That was until she heard Weasley had been sent to the hospital wing because his hand grew two sizes too big like a balloon. She found this particularly interesting, as none of their herbology sections noted of any plants that would induce these symptoms according to their professor.
She assumed that it must have been from the hatchling's bite. Curious, she chooses to spend her lunch meal in the library, researching the effects of dragon scratches, bites, bodily fluids, diseases or any other form of a biological connection between dragons and wizard bodily harm. She deduced that the dragon had bitten Weasley, and he not completely clear the site with a dragonsbane potion to counteract the diseases and magical impurities found in dragon's saliva.
She decided that during her afternoon class break, she would go up to the hospital wing and interrogate Weasely under the guise of borrowing a book.
She calmly strutted into the wing, immediately telling Madam Promfrey that she needed to speak with Weasley about a Potions assignment, and needed to borrow a book from him. She allowed her to visit. She smirked at Weasley's obvious hostility as he greeted her.
"What do you want, Malfoy."
"Oh, just to borrow a book. Nothing too much, Weasley." She gave him a sugary-sweet smile as she waved Madam Promfrey goodbye. When she was out of view, she immediately turned to him, her face blank and bored.
"That's quite a nasty injury there." She reveled as his eyes widened a bit in concern. He brought his hand closer to his chest. She continued, "It's quite a mystery of how you got the swelling and infection according to Madam Pomfrey. She saw several puncture holes though, in a rough semi-circle pattern. The curvature of holes highly implicates a tearing motion, almost as if as something bit you." She actually grinned when his face flushed in anger as he began to realize that she might know. "And, from my research and previous observations, I have come to conclude that, in fact, a hatchling dragon has bitten your hand. However, due to the fact that Hogwarts forbids dragons to be on Hogwarts grounds without prior approval from the Headmaster and countless other regulations declared by the Ministry, that surely could not be the case. Isn't that correct, Weasley, unless, however, you have the knowledge, and have even come into contact with, said illegal dragon."
"What do you want, Malfoy?!" He hissed, his fist and jaw clenching in anger.
"Oh, I'm just offering my speculations, Weasley. I would need proof, wouldn't I, to present this case to the Headmaster." She smugly said. She languidly picked up the first book he had stacked on his bedside table in order to confirm the guise she had come into his bed under. "But, from my research and observations, I make a pretty well case if I do say so myself. In fact, I could go to the Headmaster right now and tell him of my findings..."
"Like anyone would believe a ridiculous story like that." He muttered.
She suddenly turned to him. "So you admit, then, Weasley, that this scenario is true?"
He huffed. "I'm not saying another word, you snake. Leave, before I tell Madam Pomfrey that ya harassing me."
"As you wish, Weasel." She shrugged, snatching the book close to her chest and smugly leaving the bed.
That felt too good, she chirped to herself, leaving the wing with a skip in her step. She looked at the book that she had taken; it was the positions book, after all, worn down and stained in all of the unappealing glory. It fell from her hands suddenly, landing with the book open.
There was a piece of paper in the book.
Curiously, she read the paper. Her eyes lit up in excitement as she realized what she finally had in her hands.
Proof.
Oh, wait until Professor McGonagall hears about this!
"But, Professor!" Dru pleaded, standing in front of Professor McGonagall in the corridor leading to the Astronomy Tower, her grey eyes widening. "The letter said that he was coming to the highest tower, which is the Astronomy Tower! Please, Professor, maybe they saw us and went to another tower, they could still be here-"
"That is quite enough Miss Malfoy!" Professor McGonagall barked. "Now, I have listened to your case and given you the time of night, but there had been no entrances into Hogwarts grounds from what I have been reported. There are no signs of Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, or Mr. Weasley with a dragon in their possession. And Mr. Rubeus Hagrid was also found with no evidence of having a hatchling. I have had quite enough of this, Miss Malfoy! Now, as to your situation, twenty points from Slytherin will be deducted, and detention will be given for your late-night escapades. Now, please return to your dormitory before I lose my patience and sanity."
"Professor-" Professor McGonagall's cloak sharply billowed as she turned back to glare at the Slytherin. Dru swore she heard faint giggles behind her, but when she turned around, no one was there. Facing the Professor, Dru admitted defeat. "Yes, Professor."
Never before had Dru felt so cheated. She was embarrassed, frustrated, and, most potently, filled with the thirst for revenge. Never before had she felt this rawness in her. It filled her insides, a fire licking at her fingertips, fueled by her rage and vengeance. Yet, there was also this emptiness that was there... It reminded her that she failed. No one believed her; they wouldn't believe her. She didn't know if it was because she was a Slytherin, a Malfoy, a small girl. Potter kept winning, while she kept losing. She couldn't keep losing. It fed this emptiness inside her; she needed to win.
She had to, otherwise, she was sure it would consume her. Or worse... Father would.
This feeling of failure would soon be alleviated though, coming to the following breakfast meal. Eyes downcast, Dru meekly ate a bowl of porridge with berries as she quietly listened to the gossip that Daphne and Pansy were all too happy to sing.
"Why so down, Dru?" Pansy chirped, scarfing down a piece of bacon drowned in maple syrup. "Sure you got detention, but so did Potter's minions."
Dru suddenly looked up, seizing her by her robes. Pansy huffed in anger at the blonde.
"What gives, Druella?!"
Ignoring her use of her awful name, Dru asked, "What do you mean?!"
"Dru, dear, let Pansy go; you're wrinkling her robes!" Dru listened, annoyed at Daphne's dancing around the answer. Pansy punched her arm before stealing a berry on the top of her porridge. "Now, if you bothered to listen, you would know that Potter, Granger, and Longbottom were caught last night sneaking out like you had assumed, Dru. As such, Professor McGonagall punished them. Fifty points, apiece. Also, they will be serving detention with you next week. The whole Gryffindor table has been ignoring them all morning. It's been quite a showing!"
Dru genuinely smiled for the rest of the day, and the following. Finally, finally, it happened. She won! Sure, she must also serve detention, but it was worth it.
She had won, but the joy quickly faded. Now, as the following week crept by with the looming threat of final examinations, she felt the emptiness again. She wondered what else she could do to fulfill it, but she would upon that later.
She had exams to prepare for and a dreaded night of detention to look forward to.
"Follow me first-years!" Mr. Filch muttered, hobbling along into the Forbidden Forest. "Detention will be served in the Forbidden Forest tonight, so I hope you had brought your wool cloaks. It's curiously colder in there, hmm. Come now, come now!"
His raspy growl frightened Dru as she nervously walked into the Forbidden Forest. Dru was never scared easily but the uneasiness of Mr. Filch, the ambiguity of the Forbidden Forest, and Granger's glare and Potter's indifference and Longbottom's heavy breathing had set her on edge. She was quaking in her polished boots, pulling her outer cloak tighter. She was thankful to be allowed to have her wand on her person. If she didn't she wouldn't have been able to walk into the forest. Still, she felt the fear in her heart as she walked.
She was surprised that Longbottom and Fang were the only sensible ones scared. Dru sensed the Gryffindor bravado and false pride in the others, minus Filch.
Filch was just too creepy. Thank Merlin he turned around when he walked the group to the Gameskeeper and his demon-pet.
Walking into the Forest, near the back of the group behind Potter and Granger and beside Longbottom, she listened to the giant explain their task.
"So, pas' few days been some silver drops of blood found all o'er te forest. Unicorn blood. So, we're splittin' in two groups and searchin' all o'er te forest." The handed the second lantern in his large, calloused hands to Longbottom. "'Arry and Granger will be with me while Neville and Malfoy will take Fang."
Dru grimaced as the large dog drooled all over Longbottom's hand, barking as he further slobbered. He seemed to be a peaceful, but lazy giant. How was he supposed to protect them! And certainly, Longbottom was of no use. marching forward repulsively, she snatched the lantern out of Longbottom's hands, leading the way.
"Come now, Longbottom. The sooner we find the unicorn, the sooner we get to leave!" Longbottom scurried after her as she walked back towards the small puddle of silver blood that had pooled on a small rock. Ripping a large leaf from the tree above, she pressed it into the liquid, avoiding touching it with her bare skin. She held it up to Fang, who quickly sniffed it. Despite slobbering all over it, he barked, pulling on his rope in a direction heading deeper into the forest.
Dru led the way with Longbottom too close to her liking, visibly shaking.
A few minutes in their quest, she had about enough of this boy's nervous energy. Bored of their task, she deviously came up with a plan to humor herself and hopefully loosen up Longbottom and stop his loud breathing.
"I think I see something." She said. "Here, take this. I'll be right back." Handing him the lantern, she quickly walked into a thick overgrowth of bushes. Giggling to herself, she quickly walked around Longbottom until she was directly behind. Waiting a minute, she rolled her eyes as he visibly became more paranoid. He even jumped at the chirping of an owl flying overhead. Using that as a cue, she quietly stepped behind him.
Creeping forward, she inched closer and closer. Longbottom remained unaware. Perfect!
"I didn't find anything-"
"GAH!" Slap!
"You foul, blithering idiot! Did you just slap me?!"
"I'm, I-I-I didn't know it was you!"
"Oh, my bloody Merlin! Ugh! You screamed like a girl! And you slap like one! Why I ought to-AAAHH!"
"Fang, get off her! Please, you can't sit on her you'll suffocate her!"
"GET THIS SMELLY BEAST OFF ME NOW BEFORE I-"
Hagrid hurriedly walked into the clearing to the sight of the Fang sitting on Malfoy, her face being furiously licked while Longbottom stood shell-shock, visibly shaking. Granger and Potter soon followed, quickly chortling at the sight of their nemesis.
"Fang! Come!" Fang slowly sat up, walking towards the Gameskeeper. Dru immediately sat up, wiping the slobber off her with her cloak. Her face was flushed in anger and embarrassment as she seized Longbottom's cloak and pushed him into a tree.
"You loathsome cockroach! Wait until Father-"
"That's enough, Malfoy! Now, seeing as the two of ye cannot be lef' alone, Longbottom will be coming with meh and Potter will join your group."
"Hagrid! But I didn't-" Potter protested.
"We don't have te time, 'Arry!" Hagrid groaned, rubbing his beard. "Past midnight now and meh feet are beginning t' ache from te cold. Let's hurry up, ye?!"
And with that, the giant took the blushing Longbottom and smirking Granger into the woods, following their own blood trail. Malfoy refused to turn to Potter. Instead, she grabbed the lantern the blubbering Gryffindor dropped and marched on with Fang happily following her behind; it seemed as if the large had found a new best friend in the aloof and cold Slytherin girl, and she didn't know if she should be grateful or worried.
"Slow down, won't you, Malfoy?" Potter said, jogging to keep up with the long-legged girl.
She didn't. "Chop, chop, Potter! I don't want to spend the night out here, least of all with the likes of you."
"Hey! What's it to you?" He hissed. Caught up, he grabbed her elbow, yanking her back. Immediately, she slapped it away and walked faster.
"Don't ever touch me again, Potter. Or I will show you why dumb boys shouldn't play with snakes!"
Potter groaned in annoyance at how impossible this girl was! First, she had tried to be his friend. Then, she would attack his best mate, but expect him to be friends with her still. Ever since he took sides with Ron, she had been attacking him and his closest friends ever since. They were the unwilling targets of her accidental curses, implied threats, and blatant name-calling. Frankly, he had enough of this cruel girl and her games.
"I said to come off it, Malfoy!" He growled. "Leave me and mates out of whatever it is you're up to. We haven't done anything to you or your other snakes."
She stopped suddenly. He could see her shoulders tense and her left fist clench tighter. He had hit a nerve, that much was obvious to the boy, but he didn't know what and how deep it cut.
She stared at him coldly, neither glaring nor sneering. She just watched him. It left him deeply unsettled, especially with how her grey eyes just seem to bore into him. He wanted to look away, to walk away. Something inside him was pulling him to treat her like Dudley and just let her have her tantrum and move on. Yet, there was a different part of him that wanted a confrontation. He wanted answers; answers that he knows he deserves.
Finally, she spoke. "Yes," she said in a surprisingly gentle voice. he seemed smaller that way, but still carried her class and pompous attitude that marked her a Malfoy. "you did, Harry."
Harry was at a lost. "What did I do, Malfoy? Stop playing your games and just spit it out."
Dru suddenly changed. Her vulnerability that was a moment ago disappeared. You wouldn't have assumed she could be gentle with how fierce her glare was now. She turned around, stomping off as she huffed in frustration. Boys are so stupid!
Harry huffed in annoyance too. Girls are so confusing! Still, he followed her and Fang deeper into the forest.
Nearly a half-hour had passed as they followed Fang. His tail wagging contrasted with Malfoy's sour face. He could see how her teeth clenched whenever he looked her way. But his mouth did too whenever he caught her glaring at him.
It was horrible, they both thought.
"Wait." Potter suddenly said. Malfoy turned around as she watched him crouch on the forest floor. He was pointing at something. She tugged on Fang's leash. The dog stuck his nose towards the puddle Potter found. He barked. "Unicorn blood. And it's thicker too."
"It shouldn't be too far then. Come on now, hurry up you sloth." She barked, finally happy to see the end of this horrible, horrible detention to come to an end.
Holding onto Fang's leash tightly, she focused her eyes on her surroundings, hoping to find the unicorn. Several minutes passed, and she saw a glint of lint to her left.
"Potter, on your left." She said before jogging towards it. She heard him following her. Fang barked again as they broke through into a clearing.
There laid the beautiful unicorn.
Dead.
Dru found herself both drawn in by the creature's beauty and air of innocence, yet appalled at the brutality of its death. Blood was spilling out its ribcage, right where the heart would be. Dru looked away at out respect, instead, she focused on its head and silky mane. She slowly approached, setting down the lantern as she gazed at it. She placed a hand on its head; it was still slightly warm to the touch.
She felt her wand pulse in her robes. It was cold and somber as if it was mourning. Dru frowned, feeling her eyes tear in sadness. Such a beautiful and innocent creature brutally murdered for no apparent reason. It frustrated her to no end.
"Dr-Dru..." She heard Potter stutter to her. She rolled her eyes.
"Well spit it out, you tosser!" She hissed, turning her head towards him to glare.
He pointed his finger at something in front of her. Slowly, she turned her head to see a hooded figure with silver blood dripping down its mouth and onto its robes. Dru felt her heart seize up in fear as she was unable to move. She was paralyzed.
She was going to die.
Suddenly, a cold hand tugged her back, and she stumbled. She looked up to see Potter.
"Run! Send the signal!" He yelled, slightly pushing her towards the Forest, where the giant and others headed. "Run!"
Fang and she dashed towards the clearing's edge, Fang barking the whole time. She heard footsteps behind her. Potter was right behind her, and that pushed her to run faster. Faster and faster. Her legs pumping. Never stopping. Her lungs burned but faster and faster.
Finally, she remembered to shot her wand up, its red sparks fizzing from it and into the sky. The signal.
Out of breath, she finally stopped running. She looked around and saw Fang heavily panting as he collapsed onto the ground. She held her sides.
Where was Harry?
He, he was right behind her, right?
Dread and guilt filled her stomach as she realizes that he wasn't running behind her. No, that was just Fang. He had never followed her in the first place. No, no, no, no! He was still in the clearing! He was still with the monster!
She hiccuped, tears following from her eyes. Guilt was eating her raw, consuming all her hatred towards him. The emptiness filled her. It was her fault. What will Father say? What will everyone say, when they learn The Boy Who Lived died at her hands?
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she saw Hagrid and the others find her.
"Where's 'Arry, Malfoy?" Hagrid boomed, his eyes watching her.
She bit back another hiccup. She looked at him. "I thought he was right behind me, I swear! He told me to run so I did, and I thought he was right behind me-
"You left him, all alone?" Granger screeched. "How could you? You surely got him killed!"
"'ermione, that's enough," Hagrid said. He turned to Dru, signing. "It's ok, squat. I heard the conch horn of the centaur Firenze; 'Arry should be alright with him around. He's a friend of Dumbledore's."
Dru felt this wave of relief wash over her as a tear fell. She quickly nodded, rubbing her eyes clean and standing up straight. She needed to stop being weak; Mother's voice was barking at her to lift her head and think straight. Now was not the time for emotions and fear. She needed a level head rather than a guilt-ridden one.
She followed Hagrid to a worn path. There, they waited almost half an hour before she saw a centaur appear. On top of his back sat Harry Potter, safe and unharmed. A bit shaky and pale in the face, but alive.
Dru felt all of her anxiety dissipate as she confirmed that she had, in fact, not killed the Dark Lord's most essential component to his return and demise of Great Britain. And, of course, she wouldn't be condemned to Malfoy Manor for the rest of her life, more importantly.
When Potter slid off the centaur's back, Granger rushed to him, hugging him tightly. Dru rolled her eyes at the dramatics. Sure, she had cried, but that a mistake; something Dru swore to herself to never do again over that boy. In fact, he ought to know what he had put them through.
Marching over while pushing up her robe, she punched Potter in the arm-hard.
"Bloody hell, Malfoy!" He hissed, clutching his arm. "What was that for?"
Dru huffed, crossing her arms and turning up her nose. "Don't be stupid again, risking your life to save someone. It'll only end up with you dead and causing even more harm than good."
And with that, Dru turned to march right back to the dorms. She decided she will sleep in tomorrow, missing her lecture of herbology. She deserved it after the hellish night she had to endure through. Too many emotions; too much guilt. She needed a break, a reprieve from Potter and his goonish mates before they completely destroy her with their stupidity and bravado.
Exams came and passed, and Dru wasn't surprised with her outstanding's in every class, except in herbology, which she merely got a exceeds expectations. She was pleased with her scores, seeing her name on the number two spot on the first year ranking, with only Hermione Granger above her. She was mildly impressed with Granger; she was only a Muggle-born yet she exceeded a pureblood. Dru frowned, realizing Father would not be pleased with a mudblood academically excelling her.
She didn't let that stop her, however, as she sat with her friends and housemates for the final night at Hogwarts. The Great Hall was decorated in green and silver. To no surprise, Slytherin had the most points in the race of the House Cup. At least she could tell Father of her house's success in that aspect.
She was laughing with Pansy and Daphne, making plans to visit and write over the summer. Daphne was heading to France and had invited Dru and Pansy to come. It left Dru jumping in her seat. She had something to looked forward to as she wilted in the stuffy Malfoy Manor under Father's watchful eye.
It seemed nothing could bring down her mood as she watched Headmaster Dumbledore begin his farewell speech.
He droned on and on about the bittersweetness it is to have one year come to a completion. The seventh-years shall leave us, but a new group of first-years joins us in the following fall. He was belated to see us all grow and prosper this year, but he had last-minute points to award before announcing the winner of the House Cup.
"What does he mean last-minute points?!" Pansy snarled. Daphne hushed her as they listened.
"To Ronald Weasley, for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, fifty points." A cheer broke in the Gryffindor table as others politely clapped their hands. Dru fumed in rage as she realized what the Headmaster was going to do. "To Hermione Granger, for the cool use of logic in the face of fire, fifty points. And to Mr. Harry Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, sixty points!"
Everyone gasped as Gryffindor roared even louder as they clapped the first-years backs in pride. Dru growled in rage; they were tied with Slytherin!
"And, finally, to Mr. Neville Longbottom, for having the bravery to stand up to one's friends is the hardest trait to achieve, ten points!"
They had lost.
"Well, I believe that calls in a change of decor," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling as he clapped his hands. Instantly, the banners that were once the proud green and silver became red and gold. It left Dru furious and cheated.
Once again, Potter had won, even though he had the rules bent for him. She was tired of playing his game; she was tired of losing. As she glared at Potter as he plastered a large smirk on his face; she felt her rage and jealousy return, hotter and more potent than ever.
She realized then, at that moment, when he hugged his mates; that she had underestimated him. That was her first mistake. She had always assumed that because of his naivety, seeking approval, appeasement, and his meekness that she would easily sway him; he would under her finger with undying loyalty to her.
She was wrong. He was an attention-seeker, never allowing others to be in the spotlight for too long before he would snatch it out of their grasp. He manipulated people, utilizing his fame and money and power to accomplish his goals. He lets his friends fight his battles for him, so his hands stay clean. He acts meek, but he's secretly crafty and strategic. How else was he able to accomplish so much this past year, from winning the House Cup to joining the Quidditch team?
No, Dru vowed. She would not let this continue onto their second year. Life at Hogwarts would be very, very different for him. She would make it so.
Yes, Harry Potter will not beat her again. She had too much to lose and so, so much more to gain from his defeat. She looked forward to him in the fall; she had plans, great plans that Father had written in previous letters.
Let's see him and the other Muggle-borns try to stop her.
Author's Note:
Hello readers! I hoped you enjoy part one of Druella's journey at her time at Hogwarts. I really enjoy writing her character arc, especially for her first year.
I really felt it important to establish a good foundation for Druella's motivations, goals, and fears in this part. It's the introduction of a badass character, with many tropes and traits to live up to in Draco's characters. While I strived to remain the essence and importance of Draco's role in the books, I also wanted to recreate him in a new light, showing his more clever and conniving side.
This is one part I believe that sets him and Druella apart. Druella, because of her position as a female in an elitist patriarchal society, is immediately underestimated, forcing her to continuously prove her worth, skill, competence, and intelligence to notable figures in her life, especially towards Lucius. This is something I really wanted to highlight, and I think I did that with her motivations in her rivalry with Harry.
Harry essentially has everything Dru ever wanted, that she believed that she deserved. With that, I think I developed a sustaining foundation on her hatred for Harry.
Another part of her character that I really wanted to emphasize in this introduction is her own pride and prejudice (btw, I love that movie!). She underestimates Harry, and that ended up costing her in the end. This first year, I think she learned that Harry is powerful in his own right, and she needs to improve and grow if she ever wants to defeat him.
Looking towards the future, I plan on expanding upon Draco's place of upcoming events at Hogwarts, and how that has greatly prevented her from learning how to empathize towards others, especially towards she deems lesser than herself, while also forcing her to grow a thick skin in a male/wizard dominated world.
Currently looking for a Beta reader. Please PM me if you're interested. This fic will be updated monthly because of its heavy, heavy word count. (books 6 & 7 will surely be over 50k+, without a doubt.)
See you soon, dear readers! Please leave a review with your thoughts!
-maurik xx