A few months after Draco started practicing his wandless magic, he was able to hold the Lumos spell for a few minutes, and at a decent brightness, too. Hermione, on the other hand, was doing even better than him, holding her light for up to ten minutes. She found it very useful, as she was able to read late into the night, both Draco's letters and some of the books they have been sharing between the two of them.
Speaking of, Draco enjoyed the Shakespeare plays quite a bit, and Hermione had a lot of fun reading The Tales of Beedle the Bard. The two of them often referred to each other with nicknames, and their friendship was still growing somehow. They hadn't seen each other in those months, but with school starting in a few weeks, Hermione was ecstatic to be able to see him almost daily.
She had written to him about McGonagall's visit, and the ensuing trip to Diagon Alley. She gushed about the bookstore, and when Draco read the letter, he laughed. He was glad that he didn't have to keep sending Amethyst with the heavy tomes to Hermione's house once a week. The poor owl was getting a bit tired after the trips to who knows where with the massive books.
Hermione had gotten a dragon heartstring wand wrapped in vinewood, and it was 10.75 inches long. Draco joked that it wasn't nine and three quarters. When Draco's mother took him to the Alley the next week, he really didn't have much contact with people until Madam Malkin's Robe Shop. He mentally sighed and put up the persona that he would have at school, of the haughty rich boy he wished he wasn't.
"Hello. Hogwarts as well?" He asked in a tone he hated. It was all acting.
"Yes."
"My father is next door buying me my books, and my mother is checking out the wand shops." He really did hate this tone, the one where he acted like he was above everyone else. He just wanted to be equal. "Once they get back, I'm going to drag them off to see the racing brooms. I think I'll bully father into buying me one, then somehow smuggle it into Hogwarts." More like the other way around. His father would buy him one, and force him into bringing it in. Whatever. "Have you got your own broom?"
The other boy was dressed in muggle clothing that looked like it was hand-me-downs, so Draco knew he didn't, but the character he was playing was a jerk, so he would act like he wasn't all that observant.
The whole time Draco was speaking, though, he had been looking at the boy, and he had an inkling as to who it was. He was surprised the Boy-Who-Lived was so, well, mistreated. There were a couple of fading bruises on his upper arms, and again with the clothes. He was expecting a prince, someone who thought themselves better than everyone around him. He was glad this boy was so down to earth, though.
"No." Potter answered. For the bangs were hiding the mark, and he was sure to have gotten attention for it, so he was now hiding it. Draco knew this was Potter.
"I do. Father says it would be a crime if I'm not picked to play for the House team, and I really do agree. Do you have any idea what house you'll be in yet?"
"No," Potter said as he looked down with an ashamed expression. Was it so bad at his house, that he didn't even know what magic was? Did he live with muggles?
"Well, actually, no one really knows what house they'll be in until they get there, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all of my family has been. Would you imagine being placed in Hufflepuff? I think I would leave. What would you do?"
Potter just hummed. Just then, Draco saw Rubeus Hagrid, who his father had said was a 'big oaf who couldn't be more clumsy.' Knowing he would have to say something scathing to the person who was most likely to be Harry's guide, he geared up for it.
"I say, look at that man!"
"That's Hagrid, he works at Hogwarts."
"Oh, I've heard of him. He works as a servant to Hogwarts, is that right?" Draco hated the words coming out of his mouth. It seems Potter did too.
He's the gamekeeper."
"Yes, that's what I said. I heard he's sort of, well, savage, isn't he? He lives in a hut on the edge of the Forest. Every once in a while, he gets himself drunk and tries to do magic, ending up setting his house, if you could call it that, on fire."
"I think he's brilliant." He was probably the first person to ever show Potter any sort of kindness.
"Do you?" Draco said with quite a rude tone. "Why is he with you, and not your parents?"
"My parents died." Draco could see that Potter didn't really want to go into it. Whatever.
"Oh, sorry. But they were our kind, yes?" Draco really was sorry, even if he couldn't sound like it.
"They were magical, if that is what you mean."
"I really just don't think the other kind should be let in, don't you?" Sorry, Hermione. "They really just aren't the same, being brought up without magic. Some of them haven't even heard of Hogwarts until they read their letter. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families, anyway. What's your surname?" He already knew, but he was just acting. That's all it was. You never knew who was watching.
Luckily for Potter, Malkin was done. "That's you done, dearest." Potter eagerly hopped off the stool and practically ran out.
"Well, I suppose I'll see you at Hogwarts." He drawled.
Potter went out of the shop and eagerly grabbed the ice cream Hagrid had brought, probably the first time he had ever had something so extravagant. Draco really didn't know the full scope of his home life, but at least he wasn't crucio'ed every other day.
Once Draco finished his own robes, Madam Malkin removed them to be made up, and Draco went to the wand shop. Seeing Ollivander putting up a lot of wands, he correctly guessed the previous customer was a tricky one. Draco had a few wands handed to him, to be snatched back a couple of seconds later. Eventually, a ten inch hawthorn wand with a unicorn tail hair core was handed to him, and, swishing it, Draco produced a shower of green and silver sparks, with a couple red, gold and blue mixed in. His mother clapped politely, and his father was tapping his foot impatiently, ready to get out of there. Ollivander gratefully let them out of the shop, and the next couple of people crowded in. Draco nodded to Blaise, and went to the broom shop his father led him to.
Draco sighed resignedly, and, half an hour later, walked out with a Nimbus 2000 under his arm. He would be ditching it the first chance he got.
.
Four weeks, seven letters to Hermione, and a couple of joy flights on the new broom later, Draco was walking through the wall to the platform. It felt weird the first time, a bit like going through a mist, and Draco shook himself a little. Seeing they were a little early, Draco went on the train and claimed a cabin. He expected Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise, Pansy and possibly Greengrass would join him. Knowing he would be expected to pick a couple of bodyguards, he would pick Crabbe and Goyle, the big gorillas they were. A few minutes later, He saw a sea of redheads with one black head among them, and snorted. His mother and father had already left, and it seems Potter had found the Weasleys. What great influences. Seeing Hermione for the first time in months had him happy, even if it was just a flash of her crazy hair out of the corner of his eye.
Potter got on the train, and with the Weasley twins helping him load his trunk, Draco lost interest in his problems. Catching snatches of conversations through the open window, Draco's compartment slowly filled up. The first to come in was Pansy, and she clung to his arm like a leech the first change she got.
The marriage contract could be a problem in future years. He had to choose a pure-blood to be contracted to, and it seemed Pansy had decided it would be her. If Draco had a choice, he wouldn't even have a stupid contract to decide who his wife would be.
When the train started moving at eleven o'clock on the dot, Draco stood up and walked to the front of the train, ready to put up his bully persona. He hated it.
Passing all the compartments with the older students he would most definitely be sorted with, he opened compartment doors and harassed other first years, turning his nose up at the muggleborns. There were whispers of Harry Potter being on the train, and Draco knew they were true.
So, he made his way to the compartment near the end of the train. Passing by his, he grabbed Crabbe and Goyle, for appearances sake.
"So, is it true? Everyone is saying Harry Potter is in here." Seeing Potter, he said, "It's you, is it?" Draco already knew the answer, but whatever. His life was awful, so many different masks. The only one who had seen past them was Hermione, and that was because she hadn't seen any of them.
"Yes." Potter answered shortly. He was looking at Draco's companions with fear in his eyes. It was bad at his home.
"Oh, this is Crabbe and Goyle. And my name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."
Weasley coughed, but Draco heard the snigger behind it. "Think my name is funny, do you?" To be fair, his name meant dragon. It was annoying how pure-blooded families wanted to name their children after astronomic things. "No need to ask who you are. My father told me all about the Weasleys. Red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." Turning back to Potter, he added, "You will soon find out some families are better than others. You don't want to align yourself with the wrong sort. I can help you there." Sticking out his hand, he wasn't surprised when Potter didn't take it. He was a jerk, and the mask he couldn't take off made sure of that.
I think I can sort out the wrong kind on my own, thanks." Draco mentally breathed a sigh of relief. You really shouldn't be aligned with him. He forced a slight blush.
"I'd be careful if I was you, Potter. Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was best for them either. You hang around with people like the Weasleys and that Hagrid bloke, and it'll rub off on you."
Weasley got angry, and rose in Potter's defence. "Say that again!"
"Oh, you're going to fight us now, are you?"
"Unless you get out now," Potter threatened in a low voice.
"But we don't feel like leaving, now do we boys? We've eaten all the food in our compartment, and you still seem to have some."
He knew that was a lie, but Goyle still reached out and grabbed a box of Bertie Botts, only to pull away the next second. There was a fat rat attached to his finger, and Draco had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. Goyle swung it around, and the three of them left.
As Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle ran out of the compartment, Draco brushed past Hermione, and had to resist shouting out at her, hugging her right there. He did grab her hand and squeeze it before letting go, feeling her do the same. Stalking back to his compartment, Draco sat down quite unlike how he would at home, and Pansy reattached herself to his arm. He mentally sighed (again) and calculated how many hours it would take to get to the school. The rest of the ride faded to a grey blur, and Draco was only slightly aware of how much candy Crabbe and Goyle were stuffing down their throats.
.
Draco was so glad to feel the train slowing down. He shook himself from his little nap he must have taken and grabbed his cloak. He knew they would go across the lake, and it was cold out there.
"Firs' years, this way! This way!" Hagrid yelled, swinging a lantern as big as the first years' heads.
Following the giant man, Draco and all the other first years climbed into boats, with four to a boat. Well, most of the time. Hagrid had his own boat, and Crabbe and Goyle were too intimidating for anyone else to join their boat. Draco had Blaise, Pansy and Greengrass in a boat with him. Potter, Weasley, Longbottom, and Hermione were all in a boat together.
Reaching the school, there was a cat waiting on the front step. Almost all of the new students went to pet it, but backed off as soon as it turned into a human. Professor McGonagall, Animagus. Draco couldn't wait until he could become one.
She gave a speech on the different houses, then led the first years into the hall. Draco heard Hermione talking about the ceiling, and couldn't resist looking up at it. It was as magnificent as he had been told. Course, overhearing Hermione, it wasn't Hogwarts, a History that had told her that, it was him.
Waiting to be sorted, he perked up imperceptibly when Hermione's name was called and shook his head fondly when a cry of "GRYFFINDOR" was heard. Of course she got the one house it would be hardest for her to get a hold of him in. Life just wasn't easy.
"Malfoy, Draco!" The hat had hardly touched his head when there was a cry of "SLYTHERIN", and he swaggered confidently over to the table that he didn't want to be in. Smiling like he wanted to be there, only Hermione looked at him like she didn't believe it. Good. it was all a part in the play that was his life. It was all acting, and once he was free from school, he could take the big bow and renounce the ways of his father. Seven years.
.
After a feast fit for kings filled with foods Draco would gladly eat over and over, the entire school was practically in a food coma, and Dumbledore released them for bed. Reaching the dungeons, Draco gracelessly flopped on his bed and fell asleep still in his robes. He would worry about talking to 'Mione tomorrow.