WARNINGS: This story contains SLASH! As in, male/male, boy/boy relationships. Will later develop into Draco/Harry slash, at the moment its just building up to it. This fic also tells the story of Goblet of Fire from Draco's POV, so it contains spoilers for that book. If you haven't read it and don't want the plot ruined, don't read this.
DISCLAIMERS: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. I'd love to own Draco Malfoy, but I don't so I'm just messing with his head for a bit. J K Rowling created all of the wonderful characters, they're hers, Bloomsbury published my books (I'm British) though I guess if you're American you own the ones published by Scholastic; Bloomsbury and Scholastic own the books, I don't. And I mustn't forget *cough*greedy*cough* Warner Bros., who will undoubtedly be extremely pissed off with me for writing HP slash. Fine, be pissed off, just bear in mind that I'm a poor student, suing me will get you nowhere.
Eurgh, I hate mornings. Who invented them anyway? They're pointless! And alarm clocks, those are creations of evil as well! The only thing worse than waking up at home on the days I have to return to Hogwarts - when I have to wake up EARLY and actually get out of bed before ten o'clock - is waking up at Hogwarts, where I have to get up and I have to eat breakfast in case the teachers think I'm anorexic or something. I'm not starving myself or anything, I just don't eat in the morning, but at Hogwarts I have to force down two pieces of toast. Gah, feel awful afterwards. All I need is coffee, lots of coffee, to keep me going.
Mother knows this, fortunately, so she just makes sure that, on the Evil Last Day of the Holidays, there's lots of food in my backpack for me to eat on the train and that there's a lot of coffee in the kitchen in the morning. I got through four cups of the stuff this morning; I hope I don't get hyper on the train.
The journey to King's Cross was fun. Father didn't want to leave the house and Mother felt that leaving him home alone wasn't a good idea, so I had to go to King's Cross on my own, alone in the old Rolls Royce we use for transportation in the Muggle world. I sat in the back, huddled up and reading The Lord of the Rings for the hundredth time. I like that book, even if Tolkien did get a few things wrong, it's still great.
I'd just got to the Mines of Moria when we reached King's Cross, which was annoying as that's my favourite bit. I grumbled inwardly as I bookmarked my page, shoved the book into my rucksack and scrambled out of the car, thanking the driver (in a nasty, superior way of course) as I took the loaded trolley from him. I had my trunk and owl cage, minus owl, and I must've looked weird but I didn't really care. I was used to it by now.
I was making my way to Platfrom 9 3/4 when I noticed a first year standing near Platform 10, looking scared and confused. No parents. Huh.
"Want a hand?" I asked. "Getting onto the platform I mean."
"Yes, please," she said. "My parents couldn't make it here, they've got important Ministry business."
"They do?"
"Yes, they're going nuts there, have been ever since the Dark Mark appeared."
"Really?" I didn't know. Father's been so isolationist recently that he hasn't even bothered keeping in contact with Cornelius Fudge. I'm actually grateful for this: what I've heard of Fudge makes me want to storm into his office and hit him over the head with something to make him realise how stupid he really is.
"Yes, really," the girl chirped, breaking me out of my reverie of what I'd like to do to Fudge. "I'm Eleanor Brandstone, who are you?"
"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," I said automatically. Her eyes bugged a little and she gazed up at me in something akin to awe.
"Really? But, you look so nice," she said. "And I'd heard that the Malfoys were...oops!"
"That we're what?" I asked, knowing the answer was most likely 'the most evil people on the planet after You-Know-Who'.
"Very powerful," Eleanor gabbled. "Yeah, that's it."
"Uh-huh," I said. I lead her over to the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten. She stopped beside me, looking up at me in confusion.
"You have to walk through the barrier," I told her. "Just run at it and you'll go through."
"Ooookay," she said, looking nervous. She gripped her trolley tightly, aimed it at the barrier and ran. She broke through the barrier fine, reaching Platform 9 3/4 OK. Hey, I just helped someone! Go me.
I followed her and helped her get her trunk on the train, then left her to the tender mercies of her fellow First Years, who were all panicky and nervous. Was I ever like that? Did I spend my first journey to Hogwarts trying not to throw up from the horror of it all? I know I didn't, because I couldn't. Lucius would have slaughtered me if he ever found out, but I'd've died of embarrassment first so his efforts would be wasted. No, my first journey to Hogwarts involved me acting all superior then being turned down by Harry Potter. How was I to know the scrawny little kid in Madam Malkin's was The Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived Then Decided to Dance With Death in the Form of Voldemort? If I'd known, I would've been a bit nicer to him in the shop, but noooo, I had to run my mouth off. Stupid mouth, should have it sewn up!
Anyway, I found a compartment for myself, Crabbe and Goyle, and sat down in a corner, legs propped up on the opposite seat as I returned to my book. Just getting to the bit with the Balrog when...
"DRACO! Oh, you're here!"
I nearly fell off of my seat in shock. It was Pansy, she'd found me! She was standing in the compartment doorway, smiling and looking as if it was only severe self-control that kept her from flinging herself on me. God bless her self-control.
There are many reasons why I dislike Pansy, the first of which is: she's STALKING me! She's always there, wherever I turn, I can't escape. It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for Pansy herself. I guess always having an intelligent, articulate, sweet girl following you would be OK, but this is Pansy! She's the most malicious little bitch I've ever met, she thinks everything should just happen for her, she always wants her own way and her voice...I shudder whenever I hear her voice. If Granger hits high notes when she stresses, Pansy hits them all the time and it's awful. I don't know how my eardrums have lasted so long, or how I didn't kill her last year when I was in the Hospital Wing with my "injured" arm and she visited me every day, brimming with asinine information and spiteful comments about Hagrid, Potter & Co.
"Hello Pansy," I said, fixing my best smile on my face. It was like flicking a switch on my face: I just lit up, all warm and friendly and focussed solely on her. Pretty stupid to do this, it only encourages her, but Lucius wants me to be friends with the Little Bitch Troll From Hell, so I have to be.
"It's so good to see you again," she simpered.
"You too," I lied through my teeth.
"Aren't you going to hug me?" she said, looking tearful. Sighing inwardly, I bookmarked my page again, got to my feet and gave her the quickest hug ever. She was positively delighted by the meagre contact, which made me very worried for my safety.
"What are you reading?" she asked, picking up Lord of the Rings. "This is a Muggle book, isn't it?"
"It's interesting," I said. "Shows how Muggles think. Their ideas on Elves, for example, are so wrong it makes me laugh. And as for their portrayal of Dwarves...ha!"
"Of course, I knew you'd never like anything Muggle," said Pansy, all smug and superior smiles. One of these days I'm going to throw something heavy at her face, see if she can be smug then!
My violent thoughts drew to a complete halt as I looked out of the train window and saw...Harry. Yay! Ick, sound completely lovesick and pathetic but he's so nice! Consider me swooning.
"Oh, there's Potter," Pansy spat. "With his pathetic substitute for a family. Just think Draco, he could have been your friend and stayed with you for the holidays, instead he got the Weasleys."
"Do you really think I'd want Harry Potter in my home?" I said angrily. Oh God, I would, but I could hardly tell Pansy that. And, besides, if I ever did manage to get Harry to go to my house voluntarily, Lucius would try to attack him. Although, at the moment, the attack would probably involve a lot of slurred swearing and hexes accompanied with drunken swaying and an attempt to do spells with a wooden spoon because Lucius had misplaced his wand. That's my father, ladies and gentlemen.
"Of course not," said Pansy hastily. "I was merely pointing out that he had a chance at your friendship but he picked Weasley instead."
Did she have to keep rubbing it in?
"And that Mudblood Granger's as well," I commented. "Still, I s'pose that's just so he can copy homework off her."
"I'm sure she copies from somewhere," said Pansy. "No one can possibly be that clever!"
"Pansy, Granger's a teacher's pet but she isn't a cheat," I said. "Unlike some people."
I gave her a look and she had the decency (Pansy? Decency?) to blush. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, then fell silent, giving me the chance to ogle Harry. He looked really happy, standing there with the Weasleys. He's perfect. Christ, I'm lovesick.
"I suppose he'll be entering the Triwizard Tournament," Pansy said.
"Huh?" I'm so eloquent sometimes I startle myself.
"Potter, the Tournament, he always does like glory," said Pansy. "Oh, Draco, you should go in for it."
Her admiration hit me like a wave. Ow! That sounds conceited, I know, but Pansy admires and adores me and it scares the hell out of me. It's just a stupid teenage crush, but WHAT a crush. If only it wasn't Pansy!
Fortunately, Crabbe and Goyle turned up at that moment. They instantly came to my rescue, demanding my help in finding the refreshments trolley. I bid a hasty goodbye to Pansy and left with them.
"Thanks so much, guys," I said. "Eek, the leech attacks again."
"Why don't you just tell her you don't like her, Draco?" said Goyle.
"I don't want to hurt her feelings," I said. "And, besides, would you want Pansy and her friends ganging up on you?"
They both blanched at the thought. A pack of annoyed teenage girls is about the scariest thing I can think of. Even Voldemort would back down if faced by Pansy and her friends in Full Malicious Gossip Mode (tm).
"Did you have good holidays?" I asked.
"Yes, the Quidditch World Cup was something, huh? That Viktor Krum," said Goyle.
"Is the best Seeker on the planet," said Crabbe. "Even better than Potter."
"Better than me?" I asked, making my voice as dangerous as possible. I felt a cold wave of fear wash over me. They'd had it put into them from a young age that annoying a Malfoy was a bad idea.
"Of course not -"
"You're the best Draco -"
I couldn't help it, I laughed.
"It's cool, I know there's no way in hell I could ever be as good as Krum!" I said.
"You're better than Potter though," Crabbe said loyally, clapping me on the back and almost sending me flying. I've seen Hagrid do that to Harry, and I always sympathised. Being small but having friends who are bigger and stronger than you but don't realise that they're bigger and stronger than you has its disadvantages.
"Where does Krum go to school?" Goyle said, musing. "I'd really like to meet him."
"Durmstrang," I said promptly. Then I decided that it was time to put the old Nasty Malfoy Mask back on and launched into a tirade, "Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the Headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore - the man's such a Mudblood-lover - and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riff-raff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defence rubbish we do."
A compartment door nearby slid shut and we all stopped to look. Weasley, Granger and Harry were inside. I gave Harry my best glare; he wasn't looking at me but it was an excuse to look at him.
"That was rude," said Crabbe.
"What else do you expect from a Mudblood?" I said. "Come on, lets find food or something."
Crabbe, Goyle and I found the trolley and bought some food, then returned to our compartment, where Pansy and some of her friends were gathered. They all fawned over me, ignoring Crabbe and Goyle. Crabbe was blatantly ogling Sally-Anne Lestat, but she didn't notice. I was going to have play matchmaker, I really was.
Eventually, sitting there got to be a bit too much like being stuck in a chicken coop with all the hens cackling at top volume, so I excused myself again. Crabbe and Goyle followed, also glad of the chance to escape, albeit briefly. Without consciously realising I was doing it, I made my way to Harry's compartment. Don't ask me what the hell I was planning to do, maybe storm in and fling myself on him, maybe slag him off - again - I just found myself standing outside. The door was ajar, and I could see Longbottom, Thomas and Finnigan inside; one of them must have left the door open. Weasley was talking. Subject: Quidditch World Cup. Opportunity his speech provided me with to insult him: Excellent.
"We were in the Top Box," Weasley said, insanely proud with this achievement. I nodded to Crabbe and Goyle, then slid the compartment door open and stepped over the threshold.
"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley," I drawled.
The Gryffindors' heads whipped round and I was hit by not only evils but six separate feelings of hatred. It really is nice to be popular with my fellow students.
"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," said Harry. He spoke! He spoke to me, hurrah! He also felt nothing but loathing for me. Woo hoo, the boy I fancy hates me. Is that it? Isn't there anything else?
My Empath skills are weird. I haven't told anyone else about them, as they can be used for Dark Magic. Imagine, being able to know exactly what will cause someone the most pain, what it is they care about the most, just so you can take it away from them...or threaten to take it away if they won't do as you say.
Anyway, I can sense what anyone else is feeling. Surface feelings I get without even trying, but if someone's trying to hide something I have to look for it. I send out, I dunno, I guess its like a tendril of magic that's completely invisible but which I can sense. I sent one out at Harry now, hunting desperately for any sign of anything other than hatred. I found pity. He PITIED me?!?!? Why? Ooh, this makes me so stressed...what's that?
I stepped forward, eyes fixed on the Thing draped over a bird cage, saying "Weasley...what is that?" as loudly as I could. Weasley tried to grab the Thing but I got there first, holding it up. At first I thought it was an old curtain, acting as a cover for his owl's cage. Then I thought it was a dress. Then I realised what it was. Dress robes!
"Look at this!" I crowed. "Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean - they were very fashionable in about 1890..."
"Eat dung, Malfoy," Weasley said, blushing like a beacon as he snatched the robes back. He was incredibly humiliated, and Granger being there only made it worse for him. Ah well, maybe she'd be nice and show him lots of sympathy and TLC.
I looked round at them all, my eyes resting on Harry. What Pansy said to me came back to me, and I couldn't resist taunting him, just to see him get stressed, because he's so lovely when he's stressed.
But if you really want to get Harry mad, attack his friends.
"So...going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well you know...you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won..."
"What are you talking about?" Weasley snapped, looking slightly homicidal.
"Are you going to enter?" I turned to Harry, giving him a superior look that I just knew would piss him off. "I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?"
Harry was also looking homicidal.
"Either explain what you're on about or go away, Malfoy," Granger said. She's one of the best when it comes to knock backs, she can act as if nothing bothers her and there are times when I have to search for a creative retort for her; by 'creative' I mean something other than 'Mudblood'.
I grinned like a maniac; they didn't know! Oh, this gave me such an opportunity to get Harry mad.
"Dont' tell me you don't know?" I crowed. "You've got a father and a brother at the Ministry and you don't even know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago...heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But, then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry...maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley...yes...they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him..."
I did Evil Laugh No. 2 and left, shooting one last glance at Harry. Weasley looked ready to kill me with his bare hands, and I hadn't gone three steps down the corridor when there was a loud bang and a crash: Weasley had slammed the door closed with such force that the glass had cracked. Yikes, I'd really got to him! Feel oddly proud.
"Nice on Draco," Crabbe muttered.
"Yeah, I know," I said smugly.
"Not Weasley," Goyle said. "Potter. How are you ever gonna pull him if you act like that towards him and his friends."
I blinked, momentarily speechless. For some reason, the words 'oh crap' kept flashing repeatedly in my brain. 7nbsp;I blinked again then managed to get out, "what're you two talking about?"
"Please, Draco, we're your best friends," said Crabbe.
"We see right through you," concluded Goyle.
"And we know you want Potter - "
"As do Blaise and Brage [1] - "
"And we're gonna make sure you get him - "
"Although admittedly we'll have to teach you how to be nice to him - "
"Which'll take a mircale - "
"But we want what's best for you - "
"I want what's best for you," concluded Crabbe, "Greg here wants Pansy."
"I do not!"
"Do too!"
"Do not!"
They continued like this for a while, as I just stood there in stunned silence. They knew, they knew I was gay and fancied Harry. And here I was thinking I was so brilliant and subtle. Oh God the floor's opening and swallowing me up, my life is over.
"Guys," I said shakily, "are you really OK with this?"
"Of course," they said in unison, Crabbe smacking me on the back again. I smiled weakly; there was good and bad to this.
I'd just reached this conclusion when the train stopped: we'd reached Hogwarts.
[1] Brage is the fifth member of the Slytherin dormitory. I just figured that there'd be five boys and five girls in each year in each House, and invented the fifth for Slytherin. He'll be in it a bit later (and Blaise is a boy in this story).
I think I'm gonna do this fic book chapter by book chapter, it'll be easier and hopefully faster (notice use of 'hopefully').
To conclude: please review.