A/N1: Hey again everyone! Thank you all so much for reviewing the last chapter, I'm having a LOT of fun with this story and it's great to know that other people are liking it too!. I re-read it today to see where I should end this chapter and I didn't want to stop. I want to know what happens next, too.;) This Chapter is rated G.
Important: Ok, first off I would like to say to PikaCheeka (Thank you for reviewing, btw:)) that I have read a number of your stories and enjoyed them very much, but as far as I can recall, I have never, never read any story-by you or another author-in which Lupin and Draco even spoke, let alone formed any sort of relationship. Therefore, I am sorry if this story bares a resemblance to something you or other talented authors have done, but it is purely coincidental.
2: Some people seem to be having trouble viewing this story (my guess would be in something with my html) so I am going to try re-posting them in .txt format, granted it takes my pretty fonts away, but I'd prefer people are able to read it. Thank you all again for reading and reviewing!!:)
Again, if everyone could review that'd be great....suggestions are quite welcome! Enjoy!
Hopeful? What me?
Part Two: The Great Hall.
The train ride seemed to go much more quickly after that. Draco hardly noticed the rest of the time going by, until finally the train halted, and students stumbled off in droves, first years being separated and led off towards the lake, and there about to the sorting.
It was at this point that Lupin and Draco parted ways, though Draco couldn't say this exactly displeased him. The man-the freak of a man-unnerved him for some reason he couldn't decipher.
And one he didn't have much want to.
"Come on, Draco! We'll miss the feast." Goyle said, rubbing his hands together. "Oh please," Draco drawled, walking up with Crabbe to where Goyle stood, "The feast hasn't even started yet, how could we possibly miss it? Honestly."
Goyle looked slightly dumbfounded. "But- I...the feas-" "Oh, don't blubber!" Draco spat, "We're on our way to the feast aren't we?" Goyle and Crabbe both nodded, mouths hanging slightly slack jawed. "Right, then we have nothing to worry over."
With a shake of his head Draco began to make his way through the coming darkness of evening, towards the giant stone figure of Hogwarts School.
It loomed. That was the very best way to describe it, with an air of kindness, and majesty, the huge castle was something from a dream. Something that even when you stood in front of it, or walked inside, didn't seem quite real. As if even as you lived there, you were asleep someplace else and would wake any moment from the reverie it held over you.
It was Hogwarts, and in a large way it demanded respect.
Draco and the other students filed inside its huge oak doors, and the castle almost sang. With the sound of all the students before them that had come inside as second years, or seventh. It was a buzz with the noises of current students, of the present day, and memories of laughter and excitement. It had always been this way; it was as though the castle itself were almost alive. The way the doors would move on different days, and the stairs always played tricks on you. The castle seemed to have a mind of it's own, and if you were quiet, at night in your dorm...sometimes it seems as if the castle is breathing with you, in restful slumber.
However now, in the early evening hours of September first, the castle and all inhabitants were anything but asleep, or quiet. It was alive-awake with the sounds of thousands of footfalls on hard stone floors.
"They always seem to make this place smile again." Draco heard the voice of a teacher-though he couldn't quite place which one.
He turned to try and see but the crowd of students piled in behind him too quickly, blocking his view of anything save for pointed black hats and red faces, blushed from the chill of the outdoors.
He turned again to try and push his way into the Great Hall. Crabbe and Goyle had somewhere along the line been lost to the masses, but Draco didn't doubt they'd soon turn up where the food was. Which was exactly where Draco headed now.
The Great Hall was a long room, with five tables almost equally as long. One for each of the houses and then one for the staff.
Draco Malfoy looked at all the tables briefly, all of them still being quite empty. Ravenclaw was fullest, followed only by Gryffindor. Slytherin was next and the Hufflepuff table was still being filled.
The table at which the professor's sat was nearly full, only the faces of Professor McGonagall and Filch missing, and only because of McGonagall's duty involved with the sorting.
Draco found it quite likely that Filch was off giving as much detention as soon as possible to students, for things such as running in the halls or speaking too loudly.
Draco looked down at his shoes, silently wondering just how much mud he'd tracked in. Multiply that by the number of students marching up and down the halls, and he began to see why Filch was so overzealous with his work.
Draco sat down by the end of the Slytherin table, nearest to the staff table. He scanned the scene again; it all looked the same as it had last year, perhaps a bit more homelike, less exotic to him but only because he'd seen it every morning, noon and night for the past five years.
Still, it had something about it that made it so unique. So different every time. It was the essence of something he couldn't place. If Hogwarts was alive, then the Great Hall was at the least, very near to its heart.
Something Draco wasn't familiar with. He had been raised to use his head rather then heart. Logic seemed just so much more...well, logical to him then emotions. It had always been like this. The longer he thought about it, the tougher it became to think of a time when he was anything but what he was now. And though he couldn't put a name to it, he knew it was different then what most boys his age were. He didn't play well with others.
So much of his time had been spent with his father growing up, that sometimes early on he'd found it hard to communicate properly with children his own age. It had worried his mother, Narcissa Malfoy, to no point. And finally his father had decided to do something about it.
It had been called Alginines Educational Reformatory, and had in essence been a Purebloods answer to daycare.
Draco had been sent there merely to learn how to socialize better with people his own age. For he was perfectly fine around adults, such as his father's friends. But when it came to people Draco didn't know his place with, he came across as too bossy for most of them, and they left him alone. Which is-to the grave disappointment of his family members-what happened at Alginines.
Draco went there for two weeks before the Alginine himself suggested that perhaps the boy would prefer some socializing at home.
Draco had spent his time at the school in a corner alone, reading or doing nothing at all save for watching the others play. Which, needless to say, disturbed them.
He had been less then 6 when he attended.
Draco vaguely heard the scattered applause as the first years were led out onto the small rise of floor in front of the house tables. He'd apparently not been paying attention as the stool and Sorting Hat had already been brought out.
Draco's socializing problem had been fixed when he turned nine. It had been fixed by his father, ironically the one who had caused much of it in the first place.
An endless number of speeches had been tried by Lucius Malfoy with no result. And finally, at a party one new years, when a young child of one of Lucius' friends had tried to speak with Draco, it resulted in a bloody lip for the boy and the final straw for Lucius.
He had apologized dearly to the boy's father, who said that it wasn't anything to worry over, and that his son had probably done something to begin it in the first place.
Never the less, later on that evening as the incident became forgotten, Lucius nonchalantly hustled Draco into another room and told him in no uncertain terms, that if he did not start behaving like any normal child, and stop insisting to be with adults only, then he would lock Draco in his room, and slide what little food he could under the door. And that way, they'd both be happy for "You will get to be by yourself for as long as you please, and I will not have a disgrace for a son."
Draco hadn't enjoyed the thought of being locked inside his room entirely by himself with no food. And so, thusly he had began to suddenly enjoy the company of almost every person he met. Both old and young.
He was still a bit bossy, and now rather cold. But he had done as his father told him. And he had adapted without much outer fuss. He also found very nicely, just how useful a smirk could be to hide one's true expressions.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
".... -Davids, Andrea." Andrea Davids stepped forward and sat on the stool, placing the Sorting Hat onto her head. It fell low and she fidgeted as it began to talk so only she could hear it.
Draco watched this all without much interest. Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught the sight of something that he found much more interesting. Someone was entering the Great Hall, only just now, sneaking the door open softly and removing his hat, padding quietly over to the staff table, attracting several more looks from professors.
It was that werewolf again; he was speaking with Professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore nodded once and then motioned for Professor Snape to move down a seat and give the man he'd been speaking to room to sit down.
Remus Lupin looked grateful as he wrung his hat out between pale hands. He took the seat offered by Dumbledore. The seat which had belonged to Snape, who looked more then a bit displeased with having to give it up.
"There are plenty more, Severus." Draco thought he had caught Dumbledore's voice say, and he definitely had made out the low rumble of Snape's reply.
Lupin sat down looking paler then ever at the thought of sitting directly next to Snape, and he hid his hands beneath the table, though Draco could still see him ringing them out on his fraying hat.
Draco scoffed quietly, then raising his voice to speak: "You'd think with all the money they gave him here back in third year he'd have been able to buy himself some decent clothing. I mean, I know he's only a dog but doesn't he care what he looks like? Even dogs clean themselves." Draco said a bit more loudly then was really needed for the other Slytherin's to hear.
Draco looked around smugly to the staff table as the Slytherin's snickered behind their hands. He caught Potter glaring at him along with his cronies Weasley and the Mudblood Granger.
Draco only smirked more widely as he saw the indignant looks on their faces, but as he returned his gaze to the staff table the smirk faded. Lupin didn't seem to have heard what he'd said, or didn't care.
He was buttering bread, looking down at it as if studying the lines his knife made in the soft, cream coloured spread.
Draco nearly jumped out from his seat as Lupin abruptly looked up, not a scowl on his face, but something looked so much more like sorrow. Not at what Draco had said-but at Draco. He looked disappointed at the fact that Draco saw him this way. It troubled Draco, and he found he had to turn and face towards his own table again, to steady his rapidly beating heart. Was he...nervous?
A/N2: How was it? Hope it was ok, I'm off to try and write some more of it now. Wish me luck *points to the review box and grins*
Important: Ok, first off I would like to say to PikaCheeka (Thank you for reviewing, btw:)) that I have read a number of your stories and enjoyed them very much, but as far as I can recall, I have never, never read any story-by you or another author-in which Lupin and Draco even spoke, let alone formed any sort of relationship. Therefore, I am sorry if this story bares a resemblance to something you or other talented authors have done, but it is purely coincidental.
2: Some people seem to be having trouble viewing this story (my guess would be in something with my html) so I am going to try re-posting them in .txt format, granted it takes my pretty fonts away, but I'd prefer people are able to read it. Thank you all again for reading and reviewing!!:)
Again, if everyone could review that'd be great....suggestions are quite welcome! Enjoy!
Hopeful? What me?
Part Two: The Great Hall.
The train ride seemed to go much more quickly after that. Draco hardly noticed the rest of the time going by, until finally the train halted, and students stumbled off in droves, first years being separated and led off towards the lake, and there about to the sorting.
It was at this point that Lupin and Draco parted ways, though Draco couldn't say this exactly displeased him. The man-the freak of a man-unnerved him for some reason he couldn't decipher.
And one he didn't have much want to.
"Come on, Draco! We'll miss the feast." Goyle said, rubbing his hands together. "Oh please," Draco drawled, walking up with Crabbe to where Goyle stood, "The feast hasn't even started yet, how could we possibly miss it? Honestly."
Goyle looked slightly dumbfounded. "But- I...the feas-" "Oh, don't blubber!" Draco spat, "We're on our way to the feast aren't we?" Goyle and Crabbe both nodded, mouths hanging slightly slack jawed. "Right, then we have nothing to worry over."
With a shake of his head Draco began to make his way through the coming darkness of evening, towards the giant stone figure of Hogwarts School.
It loomed. That was the very best way to describe it, with an air of kindness, and majesty, the huge castle was something from a dream. Something that even when you stood in front of it, or walked inside, didn't seem quite real. As if even as you lived there, you were asleep someplace else and would wake any moment from the reverie it held over you.
It was Hogwarts, and in a large way it demanded respect.
Draco and the other students filed inside its huge oak doors, and the castle almost sang. With the sound of all the students before them that had come inside as second years, or seventh. It was a buzz with the noises of current students, of the present day, and memories of laughter and excitement. It had always been this way; it was as though the castle itself were almost alive. The way the doors would move on different days, and the stairs always played tricks on you. The castle seemed to have a mind of it's own, and if you were quiet, at night in your dorm...sometimes it seems as if the castle is breathing with you, in restful slumber.
However now, in the early evening hours of September first, the castle and all inhabitants were anything but asleep, or quiet. It was alive-awake with the sounds of thousands of footfalls on hard stone floors.
"They always seem to make this place smile again." Draco heard the voice of a teacher-though he couldn't quite place which one.
He turned to try and see but the crowd of students piled in behind him too quickly, blocking his view of anything save for pointed black hats and red faces, blushed from the chill of the outdoors.
He turned again to try and push his way into the Great Hall. Crabbe and Goyle had somewhere along the line been lost to the masses, but Draco didn't doubt they'd soon turn up where the food was. Which was exactly where Draco headed now.
The Great Hall was a long room, with five tables almost equally as long. One for each of the houses and then one for the staff.
Draco Malfoy looked at all the tables briefly, all of them still being quite empty. Ravenclaw was fullest, followed only by Gryffindor. Slytherin was next and the Hufflepuff table was still being filled.
The table at which the professor's sat was nearly full, only the faces of Professor McGonagall and Filch missing, and only because of McGonagall's duty involved with the sorting.
Draco found it quite likely that Filch was off giving as much detention as soon as possible to students, for things such as running in the halls or speaking too loudly.
Draco looked down at his shoes, silently wondering just how much mud he'd tracked in. Multiply that by the number of students marching up and down the halls, and he began to see why Filch was so overzealous with his work.
Draco sat down by the end of the Slytherin table, nearest to the staff table. He scanned the scene again; it all looked the same as it had last year, perhaps a bit more homelike, less exotic to him but only because he'd seen it every morning, noon and night for the past five years.
Still, it had something about it that made it so unique. So different every time. It was the essence of something he couldn't place. If Hogwarts was alive, then the Great Hall was at the least, very near to its heart.
Something Draco wasn't familiar with. He had been raised to use his head rather then heart. Logic seemed just so much more...well, logical to him then emotions. It had always been like this. The longer he thought about it, the tougher it became to think of a time when he was anything but what he was now. And though he couldn't put a name to it, he knew it was different then what most boys his age were. He didn't play well with others.
So much of his time had been spent with his father growing up, that sometimes early on he'd found it hard to communicate properly with children his own age. It had worried his mother, Narcissa Malfoy, to no point. And finally his father had decided to do something about it.
It had been called Alginines Educational Reformatory, and had in essence been a Purebloods answer to daycare.
Draco had been sent there merely to learn how to socialize better with people his own age. For he was perfectly fine around adults, such as his father's friends. But when it came to people Draco didn't know his place with, he came across as too bossy for most of them, and they left him alone. Which is-to the grave disappointment of his family members-what happened at Alginines.
Draco went there for two weeks before the Alginine himself suggested that perhaps the boy would prefer some socializing at home.
Draco had spent his time at the school in a corner alone, reading or doing nothing at all save for watching the others play. Which, needless to say, disturbed them.
He had been less then 6 when he attended.
Draco vaguely heard the scattered applause as the first years were led out onto the small rise of floor in front of the house tables. He'd apparently not been paying attention as the stool and Sorting Hat had already been brought out.
Draco's socializing problem had been fixed when he turned nine. It had been fixed by his father, ironically the one who had caused much of it in the first place.
An endless number of speeches had been tried by Lucius Malfoy with no result. And finally, at a party one new years, when a young child of one of Lucius' friends had tried to speak with Draco, it resulted in a bloody lip for the boy and the final straw for Lucius.
He had apologized dearly to the boy's father, who said that it wasn't anything to worry over, and that his son had probably done something to begin it in the first place.
Never the less, later on that evening as the incident became forgotten, Lucius nonchalantly hustled Draco into another room and told him in no uncertain terms, that if he did not start behaving like any normal child, and stop insisting to be with adults only, then he would lock Draco in his room, and slide what little food he could under the door. And that way, they'd both be happy for "You will get to be by yourself for as long as you please, and I will not have a disgrace for a son."
Draco hadn't enjoyed the thought of being locked inside his room entirely by himself with no food. And so, thusly he had began to suddenly enjoy the company of almost every person he met. Both old and young.
He was still a bit bossy, and now rather cold. But he had done as his father told him. And he had adapted without much outer fuss. He also found very nicely, just how useful a smirk could be to hide one's true expressions.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
".... -Davids, Andrea." Andrea Davids stepped forward and sat on the stool, placing the Sorting Hat onto her head. It fell low and she fidgeted as it began to talk so only she could hear it.
Draco watched this all without much interest. Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught the sight of something that he found much more interesting. Someone was entering the Great Hall, only just now, sneaking the door open softly and removing his hat, padding quietly over to the staff table, attracting several more looks from professors.
It was that werewolf again; he was speaking with Professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore nodded once and then motioned for Professor Snape to move down a seat and give the man he'd been speaking to room to sit down.
Remus Lupin looked grateful as he wrung his hat out between pale hands. He took the seat offered by Dumbledore. The seat which had belonged to Snape, who looked more then a bit displeased with having to give it up.
"There are plenty more, Severus." Draco thought he had caught Dumbledore's voice say, and he definitely had made out the low rumble of Snape's reply.
Lupin sat down looking paler then ever at the thought of sitting directly next to Snape, and he hid his hands beneath the table, though Draco could still see him ringing them out on his fraying hat.
Draco scoffed quietly, then raising his voice to speak: "You'd think with all the money they gave him here back in third year he'd have been able to buy himself some decent clothing. I mean, I know he's only a dog but doesn't he care what he looks like? Even dogs clean themselves." Draco said a bit more loudly then was really needed for the other Slytherin's to hear.
Draco looked around smugly to the staff table as the Slytherin's snickered behind their hands. He caught Potter glaring at him along with his cronies Weasley and the Mudblood Granger.
Draco only smirked more widely as he saw the indignant looks on their faces, but as he returned his gaze to the staff table the smirk faded. Lupin didn't seem to have heard what he'd said, or didn't care.
He was buttering bread, looking down at it as if studying the lines his knife made in the soft, cream coloured spread.
Draco nearly jumped out from his seat as Lupin abruptly looked up, not a scowl on his face, but something looked so much more like sorrow. Not at what Draco had said-but at Draco. He looked disappointed at the fact that Draco saw him this way. It troubled Draco, and he found he had to turn and face towards his own table again, to steady his rapidly beating heart. Was he...nervous?
A/N2: How was it? Hope it was ok, I'm off to try and write some more of it now. Wish me luck *points to the review box and grins*