I wrote this for my friend Michelle, for her birthday back in February. It's sweet and squishy and pre-slashy. Kissies come in the next chapter. ^.~
I own no one. Damn.
Little Dragons
It wasn't the fact that it was his birthday that bothered him, or even the age. In fact, sixteen seemed a good age to be. Sixteen years old, in his sixth year at Hogwarts; it all matched up perfectly. The day even fell perfectly on the day of a Hogsmeade weekend.
However, rather than the usual 'surprise' visit from his mum and father in the small Wizard town, he'd received an owl the previous day at breakfast:
My sweet little dragon,
Sorry, darling, but your father and I won't be able to meet you this year. A very important business meeting came up; you know how it is. Next time, of course, Darling. Enclosed you should find 100 Galleons. Spend them as you wish.
Happy birthday.
-Narcissa Malfoy
Indeed, along with the letter, his mother had sent a small black velvet coin purse with exactly 100 Galleons. How easily his family threw away so much money.
A 'business meeting.' He'd attended several of them during the previous summer at home. They had nothing to do with his father's business at the Ministry, but were, rather, a sort of code name for Death Eater meetings. Beginning just after his fifth year had begun, many had been called, all in preparation of the impending war that loomed over the heads of the entire Wizarding world.
Trust Voldemort to call one on his birthday. 'Remember, son, your alliance lies with the Dark Lord first, yourself second.' Draco had heard the same speech many times that summer, between actual meetings and merciless training in the Dark Arts. Lucius believed that the best way to cast and fight magic was to be subjected first hand.
'Alliance to the Dark Lord first…' His parents chose some horrible old shadow of a Wizard over their own son.
~*~
It snowed on his birthday, a cold, dark day in January, which normally he would have loved. How ironic, he thought, for something so pure and clean as snow to fall on the day of the birth of someone such as myself.
His parents had left him, and despite the almost daily reminders in the weeks since Christmas, his fellow Slytherins had thrown over something so insignificant as 'Draco Malfoy's Birthday' in all their excitement of a Hogsmeade weekend. Even his eternal over-grown shadows, Crabbe and Goyle, had forgotten him in favour of discussing which candies to buy.
Draco made a face at the unseeing wall of his carriage. As per usual, several horseless carriages were escorting the older Hogwarts students down into the small village. Also, as per usual, Crabbe and Goyle had clambered into the cart right after him, followed by a shy third year whom Draco knew not the name of, nor did he care to. "At least he's Slytherin," he mumbled to himself. Anything else would be unheard of and completely not to be tolerated.
The ride into Hogsmeade was uneventful to the point of being boring. Another Saturday; it's just Saturday to them all. The entire school knows, yet no one cares. Draco scoffed, drawing the attention of his carriage-mates to himself, if even for a few uninterested moments. Did I really expect them to care though? I'm not exactly the most popular person in school; anyone not in Slytherin hates me. They hate all of us.
He banged his head on the wall of the carriage, willing the world away. Maybe they're right for once. Maybe I'll just get myself so drunk that I won't remember today…A small voice inside Draco's head reminded him that he didn't much care for alcohol-especially after that last time-but he easily ignored it. If no one else remembered his birthday, why should he?
~*~
Everyone knew of Malfoy's upcoming birthday, from the smallest first year Hufflepuff, to the brightest seventh year Ravenclaw. Unfortunately for him, his musings had been somewhat correct; not many of the schools students, or even the teachers for that matter, were very fond of the blonde Slytherin. After all, why should they be? He was cruel, snide, stuck up…the perfect Slytherin. Certainly he was no Harry Potter. Rather, he was the rival of said boy, and everyone knew that, as a rule, if Harry Potter does not like someone, everyone else must follow suit.
The same went for the opposite; if Harry liked someone, surely they must be a wonderful person, worthy of awe and respect, and-of course-a most formidable Witch or Wizard.
Despite the rumour that had recently been circulating that Harry was in love with his friends Hermione Granger, the dark haired boy had been somewhat lacking in the girlfriend department. Not that there hadn't been ample opportunity; every girl in the school with enough courage, from first year to seventh, had had at some point asked Harry out. All of them had been gently, but firmly, rejected.
It wasn't that he didn't want to have someone, or that he didn't have the time; quite the contrary. He would have been delighted to have someone to relieve even just a bit of his loneliness. However… Harry Potter simply did not fancy girls. All his life his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had warned him away from girls, telling him that the only girls he could trust were those in his family, and old Mrs. Figg down the street. He had a feeling that they mostly just did not want him to breed.
Of course, now he knew that no one in his family was trust worthy, and though Mrs. Figg had finally been revealed as a Witch, Harry had trouble trusting her. All those years that she had known who he was, and how he was being treated, yet she had done nothing.
Sure, he'd had a crush on Cho Chang, and a Veela could entrance any man…but during his years at Hogwarts Harry slowly came to the realization that he rather preferred the company of another boy to that of a girl.
"…hear me, Harry?"
Emerald eyes blinked owlishly behind thick, black frames. "Hmm? Oh, sorry, Ron. Wasn't quite paying attention there." He ducked his head, a bit ashamed that he'd been ignoring his best friend.
"I said let's go. Didn't you even notice that we're here?" The redhead scowled, "everyone's gone already."
"Oh. Right. We were going to see your brothers first, weren't we?" At Ron's nod, Harry climbed out of the carriage, only slightly upset that Ron had been the only one to wait for him. Seamus, Dean and Neville were already long-gone; they had kicked Hermione out of her usual spot with Ron and Harry, claiming they had 'man things' to discuss, and breaking the 'no more than four to a carriage' rule. Harry vaguely remembered them talking about Quidditch, trashing Slytherins, and girls.
Ron's older brothers had opened a joke shop in Hogsmeade across the street from Honeydukes after they graduated, just as they had planned for years. When asked by their mother where they had gotten the money, the twins had imply replied that it had come 'from a magical cup.' Fred and George kept the secret that Harry had given them his prize money from the TriWizard Tournament, and in return, what Harry wanted from Weasley Wizard Wheezes, Harry got.
The twins had sent Ron and Harry an owl a few weeks before, raving about a new trick cloak that shrunk to half it's normal size when wet that they were itching to show the younger boys. They had sent one to Charlie in Romania as a 'gift,' and the second-eldest Weasley boy had gotten a good laugh from it.
A bell that sounded strangely similar to a cat's yowl sounded as the boys pushed the door open, "Hello? Fredngeorge? C'mon out then, or we'll nick the whole lot…"
At their brother's shout, the two Weasleys emerged from the back, hair mussed and identical faces flushed. "Oi oi! Our two favourite customers!" Fred pulled the two boys into a tight embrace, quickly mimicked by George. "We've been waiting for you all day."
Ron looked at him skeptically, "o then you were thinking of us when you were in the back, snogging?"
The twins grinned sheepishly, "Of course! We always think about Harry, don't we, Fred?"
"Who doesn't? He's Briton's Most Lusted After Wizard." Fred laughed, sliding an arm around Harry's shoulder, "How 'bout it, Harry? Ever sleep with twins?"
Ron paled, "I don't want to hear this! It's bad enough that my two brothers are going at it, don't involve my best friend!"
Fred and George laughed at Ron's shock and Harry's embarrassment, "Ok, ok, we get it. C'mon, I wanna show you guys some new stuff that we've been working on." George led his brother away, leaving Harry to Fred.
Before the red head could speak, Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably, "Hey, Fred? Can I ask you something?"
"Sure, Harry, anything you need. You're like a brother to us, you know. Only better, because we didn't have to grow up withy you."
"Yeah. I…that is… You and George are…together, right? So you don't mind that other…I mean..."
Fred cocked his head to one side, "Harry, are you trying to say that you like blokes?"
Harry's cheeks flamed red, "I…yeah. One in particular, actually. But he…it's hard. If he were, say, a Ravenclaw, maybe, or…hell, even Ron would be easier! But…I don't know what to do…"
Fred smiled and placed a brotherly hand on Harry's head, "Strange as it sounds coming from me, take it slow. Make him feel special, drop little hints that you're interested, stuff like that."
"'Special,' huh? Hmmm…" a slow smile spread across Harry's lips, an idea already forming in his mind.
~*~
One chocolate frog.
One chocolate frog between the two of them was all Crabbe and Goyle had been able to come up with as a birthday gift. Soon after, the two goons had parted, leaving Draco to drown his misery in non-alcoholic butterbeer. A quick glance at his watch (very few people knew that Draco 'debased' himself enough to wear a Muggle watch that told only the time) told him that he had less than twenty minutes to get back to the carriages before they left.
He tossed a few gold Galleons on the table, more than enough to pay for his drinks, and stalked out of the bar, daring anyone to get in his way. Damn. This is worse than my ninth birthday. At least then I had a party, and my parents didn't forget about me. His birthday many years before had been devastating; no one ever mentioned it, and if they did, it was simply referred to as 'The Incident.'
The streets outside were nearly empty, everyone having gone home for dinner, or Hogwarts students milling slowly towards the carriages that would take them back. Draco recognized a small group of Slytherin fifth years walking by with ice creams, and various other Hogwarts robes, but no one he really knew, and certainly no one he cared to talk to.
"Malfoy? Hey, Malfoy, wait up…"
Draco turned to find Harry Potter running towards him, surprisingly sans-Weasley. "Potter." Certainly not the person he wanted to see at the moment, but he forced his voice to remain calmly neutral.
"Ma-Malfoy…" Harry stopped to catch his breath, "Sorry. I just…I heard that…" he frowned at himself; he was used to having much more control over his vocalizations. "Anyway, I just...I wanted to give you this…" He reached into his pocket and removed a small package wrapped in green tissue paper and tied with a silver ribbon. "I couldn't actually wrap it, but…here." He thrust the package into the blonde's startles hands, blushing furiously. "I thought I might…well, open it."
Draco looked disbelievingly from Harry to the gift, and then back again. "What? Is this some kind of joke? Thought it might be amusing to make fun of me because everyone forgot my birthday?"
"No!" Harry sputtered, trying to force back his blush, "Its just a gift."
Hesitantly Draco pulled away the string and pulled back the tissue, revealing a small silver dragon dangling from a delicate matching chain. The dragon lay curled in a sleeping position and upon closer inspection, it appeared to be breathing gently. Draco's hands trembled. "…Why?"
Harry kicked at a few loose pebbles on the ground. "It's alive, kind of. When it wakes up, be sure that you're the first thing it sees, so that it imprints you on its brain. That way, if it gets lost or stolen, it'll know who to get back to." He nibbled on his lower lip, afraid to see the blonde's reaction.
Seconds passed in silence, then minutes. Finally a pale hand came to rest tentatively on Harry's arm, "Potter…"
Harry looked up, a small smile on his face, "Happy birthday, Malfoy."
Chapter 1, end.
::giggle:: You loved it, didn't you? You know you did. At least, I did. ^-^ Read chapter 2 now. It's cuter.