The Other Side of the Mirror
Year One
Chapter Five
-Christmas -
Draco sat in Potions during a particularly cold December Friday, measuring out powdered spine of lionfish. He kept close to his hot cauldron, trying to stay as warm as possible. His scarf was wrapped tightly around his neck.
"So, are you going home for the Christmas holiday?" Brandon asked.
"Of course, unlike some people," Draco said. He looked pointedly at Potter, who was measuring his lionfish, as he spoke, "I do feel so sorry for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."
Crabbe and Goyle chuckled. "At least we get to go home," Goyle said as Draco turned back around, putting the powdered spine into the boiling cauldron.
"Yeah, we're wanted," Crabbe said.
Draco just laughed.
~ ~ ~
After Potions, they were heading back to their common room when they stopped, seeing that a large fir tree was blocking the corridor ahead. Draco rolled his eyes. It's cold enough down here. Why is that oaf going and blocking the corridors for? Honestly, didn't he have the courtesy to keep it out of the way? Draco spotted Potter and Weasley standing behind the fir. Why are they just standing there, blocking the way?
"Would you mind moving out of the way?" Draco asked coldly. "Or are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gameKeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose - that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."
Suddenly Weasley dove at Draco, grabbing the front of Draco's robes. Draco looked at him wide-eyed and then sneered as he saw Snape walk up. "WEASLEY!"
Weasley let go of Draco's robes and looked at Snape. Draco smirked and brushed his robes.
"He was provoked, Professor Snape," Hagrid said, looking from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."
"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," Snape said. Draco grinned. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."
Draco smirked. Serves him right for lunging at me like that! Those Weasleys are so troublesome! Draco brushed past the large tree, Crabbe and Goyle following. As they walked, Draco looked at them. "I'm going to go to the library. You two coming?" Crabbe and Goyle both shook their heads and Draco nodded. "Alright then, I'll see you later."
Crabbe and Goyle walked off and Draco turned down a corridor, heading for the library. Once there, he walked over to one of the large tables in the center and pulled out his Potions and Transfiguration books, and sat down to begin his homework.
A few hours later, Terrace came over and asked for help with his Potions. After showing him where to find the information, Draco turned back to his own homework.
Finally, around midnight, Draco finished and headed back to the common room. It was empty as he walked through it and up to his room. I wish I didn't have to study so much or work so hard on my homework. That homework should have been easy, but it's just not. I hope father won't get angry that I'm not top of my class. Wait until he hears that a Mudblood is top. That'll really make him happy.
Draco pulled on his pajamas and slid into his bed. He closed the drapes and went to sleep.
~ ~ ~
Hogwarts mercifully let their students go, but not until after giving them a nice round of testing and loads of homework. Draco knew that he was going to end up spending his entire holiday working on the load that the professors had given him. Oh well, Draco thought as he sat in the back of the car, heading back to Malfoy Manor. At least it'll give me something to do other than wander the corridors aimlessly. I hope it won't be as boring as it was last year. I thought I was going to die of boredom, just sitting there in my room. Maybe I'll get my broomstick! Draco thought happily. I deserve one if Potter got one.
When they reached the manor, Draco took his trunk and cage with Mabol up to his room silently. As he opened the door, he looked around. High arched ceiling, two large windows, one smaller window, a huge closet, a large four- poster bed, thick, expensive carpets that covered most of the dark wood floor, dark wood paneled walls; this was his home. He sighed and set the trunk at the foot of his bed. He took Mabol's cage over to a table near the smaller window and opened the cage door. He opened the window and Mabol hooted, flying out into the night.
Draco walked over to his bed and sat down, his feet dangling. It was slightly chilly in his room, but not even close to the temperature of the dungeons in which they had their some of their classes. He took off his scarf and gloves, laying them on his bed. He flopped down on his back, looking up at the drapes that covered the top of his bed, his cloak spread around him. He took his wand out of his pocket and looked at it. Then he sighed, setting it down on the bed.
After a few minutes, the complete silence began to annoy him. He had grown used to the loudness of the common room and to Crabbe and Goyle running into the room, talking loudly. In a way, he would even miss Potter, because that had given him something to laugh about, although every time he thought about Potter, anger rose in his chest. It just wasn't fair, Draco thought for the thousandth time. Potter gets everything. Friends, special privileges. And I don't think he realizes how lucky he is to be on the Quidditch team! I would have given anything to be on the team! I've been dreaming about it for years! Then he just waltzes right in and gets put on the team! Just because he's famous! And on top of the, he gets a Nimbus Two-Thousand, the broom I want so badly! Even though he doesn't have a proper family, he has a better life than I'll ever have. Sure, I love my father and I admire him deeply, but I get this horrible feeling that my father is disappointed in me. I've tried to hard to be the perfect son, but I don't think I'm good enough. I don't think I'll ever be good enough for him. My mother tries to reassure me that he loves me very much, but I think it's just words. She never speaks up against my father; I think she's afraid to. Then there's the Dark Magic. The secret passageway underneath the manor holds all of our Dark Arts things and sure, they're really interesting, but is it what I want? I don't know what my father is doing with all that stuff; if the ministry ever found out, he'd be taken away to Azkaban, and that's the last thing I need or want! I don't know what I'd do without my father; or my mother for that matter. The Dark Arts fascinate me, but I don't want to make the wrong choices. Then there's the Dark Lord himself. I know he was defeated by Potter, but he's still out there, I know that. What if he comes back? What will happen to my family? What would happen to me?
~ ~ ~
Later that evening, Draco finally made his way downstairs and into the large dining hall. A plate of food sat at the far end and Draco walked over to it, sitting down. He ate his dinner silently, looking around at the tapestries. Another meal by myself, Draco thought. It always turns out that way. I miss Hogwarts and the Great Hall.
He was finishing his desert when his mother walked in. She looked at him, smiling. "Draco, I'm so glad that you're finally home. I've missed you very much. You received my packages and letters?"
Draco nodded, swallowing. He stood up, walking over to his mother. "I missed you too, mother," Draco said, hugging her. He pulled back.
Her eyes scanned his face. "You've changed so much in these past few months," she said, smiling. "And you're at least two inches taller. When your father comes home, you'll have to tell us all about what's happened at Hogwarts. Your letters told us a little, but I'm sure there are other things."
Draco managed a smile. "Sure, mother," he said. Great, I get to disappoint my father. Just what I was looking forward to. Oh well, I suppose the conversation had to come sooner or later.
"Why don't we go sit in the den and you can tell me all about your friends," she said, smiling.
Draco shrugged. "Okay," he said and followed her into the den.
"As you said in your letters, you've adjusted nicely. That is always good," she said, sitting on the couch. Draco sat down next to her.
He nodded. "Crabbe and Goyle are with me wherever I go, practically." He smiled. "Except for the library."
Narcissa laughed. "I didn't suppose that they would want to go in there. They were never the type to do homework."
"No, they aren't," Draco said. "Brandon usually studies with me and sometimes Terrance and Tawny."
"That is so nice to hear," Narcissa said, smiling. Draco didn't know why, but for some reason, his mother seemed a little aloof and her recent letters had not been as long as the first few. Draco hoped it wasn't anything bad.
"Draco," a cool voice said from the doorway. Draco looked up and immediately jumped to his feet.
"Father," he said quickly.
Lucius stood in the doorway, his white hair gleaming in the light from the fire. He held his staff in his left hand, the snake head glittering. "It's good to see that you've finally arrived back from Hogwarts. I trust your first term went well?"
"Yes, father," Draco said, nodding. He watched as his father walked over to a chair, his black cape swirling behind him. He sat down in the high- backed chair, watching Draco intently as he sat down on the couch.
"How did Quidditch tryouts go?" his father asked.
Draco swallowed. He had avoided saying anything about it thus far, and hadn't written anything about it in his letters. He had really hoped that his father wouldn't ask him about it, but that was like wishing for the moon. "Well," Draco started, not sure where to begin, "I - I didn't make it," he finally said. He tensed, waiting for his father to lash out at him, but it never came.
His father looked at him coolly. "I see. And why not?" he asked, his voice cold and emotionless.
"They wouldn't let first-years try out at all."
"Then why is Potter on the team?"
Draco winced. "You know about that?"
"Of course I do, boy, I'm not deaf," his father snapped.
Draco bit his lip and swallowed. "I'm sorry, father, I didn't mean to upset you."
"Yes, yes," his father said with a wave of his hand. "Well, I expect you to make it next year, understood?"
Draco nodded. "Yes, father."
"Has Potter managed to get any more special privileges?"
"Of course," Draco said bitterly. "He hardly ever gets into trouble and he always manages to worm his way out if he does. And they always bend the rules for him. That Muggle-lover Dumbledore adores Potter. He even got a Nimbus Two-Thousand." Draco slammed his fist into his palm. "It's not fair to the rest of us! Why does Potter get all the special treatment? Just because he's famous! And what's even better, he doesn't even care! He flaunts it like he's so special, but he's not! He's just a stupid prat! He didn't even know what Quidditch was before he came here!" Draco could feel some tears welling up in his eyes. "I wanted to make that team so badly! It meant so much to me! Then first-years weren't even allowed to try out, but Potter still managed to get in. And he acts like it's no big deal! It's not fair that he should have everything and the rest of us get left in the dirt!" Draco pulled his knees up and hugged them, burying his face in his knees. He could feel tears tricking down his cheeks and at that point, he didn't care what his father thought and that he wasn't supposed to show emotion, or cry because it showed weakness. "It's not fair," Draco said quietly, sobbing. "It's just not."
"You deal with this," Draco heard his father say. Draco heard a door shut and then arms wrapped themselves around him. Draco turned his head, burying it in his mother's arms.
"Why does Potter get everything? What makes him so special and above the rest of us?" Draco asked, wiping the tears from his eyes.
"Love, you're very special too," Narcissa said, putting her hand under Draco's chin, lifting his face. He looked up at her. She smiled. "Don't you ever forget that. Just because some people think that they are better than you because they get special treatment doesn't mean that they are. It is not your abilities that make who you are; it is your choices. Harry Potter may choose to flaunt what he has, but that is his choice, and while it may not be the right one, it is what he chose to do. You have your own choices to make. You were fortunate to be born into a good family and you have grown up with a family. Harry Potter never did have a proper family; he was raised by Muggles, but that doesn't make him a bad person. Just as your family does not decide what kind of person you are. I know your father expects impossible things of you, but you have to understand what he has gone through to become what he is now. His father didn't set standards for him and Lucius wanted to become something greater. He worked hard to bring you what you see around you, and you have to remember, no matter what, he loves you. I know that he doesn't always seem like he cares, but inside, he is in turmoil. He has pushed himself to his limits and beyond and he just wants you to push yourself to be your very best."
"But I'm just going to disappoint him," Draco said softly, looking down.
"Draco, nobody is perfect and you can't expect to be. But you cannot wallow in sorrow either. You have to choose to rise above the rest, or else your life will be meaningless. You have to trust that your father knows what is best. Do not worry about disappointing him. He will proud of you; no matter what."
Draco shook his head. "I don't think so, mother. He knows what he wants me to be, and he knows that I'll never be his perfect son. I can see it in his face when he looks at me!" Draco said, looking up at his mother. "I'm weak and I'm stupid, and no matter what I do, I'll always disappoint him."
"Draco, don't talk like that," Narcissa said sharply.
"But it's true!"
"You don't know that. Your father struggles constantly with himself, always trying to improve. If you see disappointment on his face, it's not because of you; it's because he looks down on himself. He wants you to have a good life and he doesn't want you to make the same mistakes that he did."
"You're wrong."
"Draco -"
"No," Draco said, pushing himself away. He stood. "I admire father so much that it really cuts into me when I disappoint him. I don't deserve to bear the name of Malfoy! I'm nothing! Don't you understand that? Potter has proven that to me numerous times! I try and try, but I just never seem to be good enough! And then Granger comes in and she's not even pure- blood! Yet she's top of our class and she's brilliant! She doesn't even have to try and she excels at everything! And Potter's the same way! I don't even think he realizes it!" Draco shook his head. "No, he doesn't. He's a lot smarter than he gives himself credit for and on top of that, he has tons of friends and he flies like a natural! He had never even been near a broom until that Flying Lesson, and then he just hops on it like it's nothing! I watched him during the Quidditch match, and I'll admit that he deserves to be Seeker! My father is wrong when he says that I should be on the team! I'm not good enough, and I probably will never be."
"Draco, where is the confident youth I know? Where is the boy that knows that he is good and not useless?"
"I don't know, mother," Draco said, looking at the fire. "I thought that I was the best and that nobody could top me." Draco let out a bitter laugh. "What a shock I was in for." He stomped his foot, clenching his hands into fists. "It's that Potter and that Granger. They make me doubt myself and I hate it! Inside, I know that I'm better than them, but on the outside, it just doesn't seem like that. I studied so hard for finals and you know what grades I received? Eighty and ninety percents! I studied for hours on end, pouring through books, even though father said that I shouldn't study because I'm a Malfoy and Malfoy's don't need to study. Well, this Malfoy does! I worked so hard to prepare myself and Granger," Draco gritted his teeth in anger. "Granger doesn't even study and she received top marks! Well over a hundred and ten percent! That's just not fair! And you know what made it worse? Her, Potter, and that stupid Weasley! They all looked at me smugly and Weasley just had to rub it in my face that even he had received better marks than me!"
"Draco, please -"
"Mother, just face it. I'll never be good enough to please father. I don't deserve to be his son," Draco said quietly, falling into a chair. He looked at his hands. "I don't deserve any of this."
"Draco, don't talk like that," Narcissa said, standing and walking over to him. She knelt in front of him, looking up at his face. He looked at her. She smiled. "Don't let anyone talk you down. If there is one thing that I admire about your father, it is that he always remains confident in his abilities and remembers who he is. Draco, you are a Malfoy, and that will never change. You are better than you give yourself credit for and I believe that with all my heart. Don't ever doubt yourself, love. You have nothing to be disappointed about. You tried your best, and sometimes, that is all that you can do."
"But what if my best isn't good enough? Father seems to think that."
"As before, your father has set high standards that I'm not sure even he can reach. He just wants you to have goals and to always strive to do your personal best. Harry Potter and his friends may think that they are better than you, but they are not. Do you hear me? You are a good boy and a brilliant son, and you remember that. Be confident in your abilities, and you will rise above them all. You will make the house team and although Harry Potter may receive special privileges, that doesn't make him better than you. You will prove that. And don't you mind the Weasley boy. He is nothing compared to you. He is just trying to make you doubt yourself, and so far, he is succeeding. Is that what you want? To make them happy and give them exactly what they want?"
"No," Draco said softly.
"Then ignore their comments and go back to that cool, calm, and collected boy that I know. Ms. Granger may be smart, but it is her choice to make what she will of it. If she decides to throw it in your face, she is no better than the lowest life-forms. But you remember the same thing. If you are better than someone at something, don't throw it back in their faces, because then you'll be no better than those that you despise. Always remain confident, but don't come to the point where your confidence overwhelms you and blinds you to the world around you. That is one of your father's faults that he will never admit. I think he becomes too over- confident at times, but then, at other times, he is brilliant. Do not dwell on what you are not brilliant at; instead, look at what you are good at. You make friends, too, and you are not stupid. You received very good marks. Nobody can be the best at everything and you cannot expect to be, or you are blinding yourself to the truth. You are a very good Quidditch player, and don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. You used to compete in those mini-leagues when you were young and you were and still are a brilliant flyer. Harry Potter may have a gift with the broom, but that is him, not you. I've said this before, and I'm saying it again; you have a greater destiny than you or I could ever imagine. You are destined for great things and how you chose to go about achieving your destiny is what will form who you are."
Draco was silent and looked down at his feet. Narcissa stood. "Goodnight, Draco," she said and she walked away.
A few moments later, Draco left the room and headed upstairs to bed. He lay in bed, thinking about what his mother had said, long into the night and next morning.
~ ~ ~
Two days later, Draco stood in his father's study. He had not seen his father for the past few days, but that morning, his father had sent up word that he wished to speak to Draco, alone. Draco was very nervous, but kept running his mother's words through his mind. Always remain confident, no matter what. His father had told him that too. Well, he would just have to do that. Draco took a deep breath, calming his raging nerves. He looked around his father's impressive study. A large desk sat at one end and the walls, except for the large window, were covered with mahogany bookshelves, lined with books. Draco knew that there were no Dark Arts books in here; they were all down in the secret passageway, but there were still many interesting books sitting on the spotless shelves. Draco looked down at the plush dark red carpet beneath his feet and then looked at himself. Black boots, pants, and a turtleneck, hair slicked back; he was to always look presentable, no matter where he was.
Draco rubbed his hands together anxiously. He looked around again, glancing up at the high arched ceiling. Then he heard the door open and Draco immediately brought his attention to his father as he strode in, his cape swirling behind him. His father set his staff on the desk and turned to Draco, his gray eyes glittering, but his face cold as always.
"We are having visitors tonight for dinner and you will say the right things, and act like I have taught you," his father stated.
"Yes, father," Draco said, his confident look not faltering.
"If they ask you about school, you are not to mention a word about Potter, unless they specifically ask about him. If they ask about Quidditch, tell them that you didn't make the team, and nothing more. You will not say anything that will disgrace our name in front of them, am I understood?"
"Yes, father," Draco said. Who was coming?
"The visitors are old friends of mine; that is all you need to know. I am sure you will know them when you see them, but act like I have taught you, and we will not have any problems."
Draco nodded. "Yes, father."
"Good. Tomorrow is the most important, for there are Ministry officials coming. Clearly, they still suspect our family and we will not have their suspicions verified. Therefore, tonight, you will help search the manor and make sure that there is not a trace of any of our Dark Arts items. And if they ask you any questions, you know how to respond. Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes, father. I know what to do."
"Very well. You may go." Draco nodded and walked towards the door. "And Draco, don't forget what we have talked about."
"Yes, father," Draco said, and left the study.
Ministry officials! Why can't they just leave us alone! They've already searched our manor twice, now they have to do it again? Well, I suppose we'll just have to make sure they don't have any reason to come back a fourth time. The Ministry can be so bothersome; I don't know why father puts up with it. But I suppose he has to be there, or they would all become Muggle-lovers like Weasley and Dumbledore.
~ ~ ~
Draco walked up to his room and entered just as Mabol flew in with letters attached to her legs. Draco quickly untied them and gave her some water and food. She hooted softly and Draco opened his letters. They were replies from Terrace, Tawny, Marcus, Adrian, and Terence. They were going to come over after lunch to play some Quidditch in the pitch behind Malfoy Manor. Draco grinned. Now this is fun; I can't wait!
Since it was nearly lunch already, Draco went into the kitchen, quickly ate a sandwich and an apple, and then headed back upstairs to his room. Walking over to his closet, he flipped open the doors and knelt down. He popped the trunk open that was sitting in the bottom, pulling out his shin and knee guards, his hand, wrist and elbow guards, and his Comet Two-Sixty. Standing, he threw on his thick black cloak and put on his equipment, stretching his fingers in the fingerless gloves, smiling. Quidditch was definitely something to look forward to.
He picked up his broomstick and headed outside. It was cloudy and slightly windy, but otherwise not too bad. The snow had melted for the most part, so the green of the grass could be seen. Draco walked by the maze and then up a hill to the pitch. There were very heavy barriers around the pitch so that there wasn't any chance that a Bludger or the Snitch could get loose. Draco chuckled softly. Wouldn't that give Muggles something to stare at! I can just see it now. Huge ball flies through shop window and tears up store! Well, Draco thought seriously. It wouldn't be any fun for me. I would get in so much trouble if that happened. The one time the quaffle flew out of the pitch thankfully no one saw it. I would have lost my broomstick for sure and my father would have been so angry!
Draco grinned as he spotted the others already out on the pitch, their gear on, and capes flapping in the wind. He saw Terrace, Tawny, Crabbe, and Goyle off to one side, talking. Marcus, Adrian, and Terence were standing together, talking. Then Draco heard voices and looked to see four people walking towards the pitch. He smiled, recognizing Adrien Lanart, one of the Slytherin prefects, Carolina Vanderbaugh, a tall fifth-year, Sandra Hawkings, another fifth-year, and Karl Lanart, Adrien's younger brother and a third-year, currently on the Slytherin team.
This is going to be wicked! Draco thought, running the rest of the way onto the pitch. "You made it, brilliant!" Draco said, stopping in front of Marcus.
Marcus smiled. "We'd never turn down Quidditch," he said.
"Besides, I need to work on my Chaser skills," Terence said. "Being a Seeker is a lot harder than you'd think."
Draco nodded. "It is a rather tough position, isn't it? That's what I always play and it always seems that we get roughed up the most."
"Well, the Beaters help take off that load," Adrian said. He looked at Marcus and Terence. "You know, we could probably all be Chasers."
"Right," Marcus said. "Six per team, just one short of an actual team, it's pretty good." He smiled.
"I can work on my Beater skills," Karl said, running a hand through his short red hair. Draco realized that Karl was the same height as him, but stockier built. Beater, no wonder.
Draco looked at the others. "Come on then," Draco said, beckoning them over. They gathered around.
"Okay, so how are we working this?" Carolina asked.
"Six per team; one Keeper, two Beaters, two Chasers, and a Seeker," Marcus said.
"Alright then," Draco said, looking around. "Marcus, Adrian, Goyle, Carolina, Karl, and me on one team. Tawny, Crabbe, Adrien, Sandra, Terence, and Terrace on the other." The other team turned to each other and began figuring out positions.
Marcus looked at Draco, Goyle, and Carolina. "Adrian and I will be Chasers," Marcus said.
Draco nodded. "Goyle, you and Karl are Beaters; Carolina, you can be Keeper."
"Right," Carolina said. "That's fine, I usually play Keeper anyway."
The other team looked at them and Sandra walked forward. "We're ready. You?"
Draco nodded. "Let's mount and I'll release the Quaffle, Bludgers, and Snitch, since I'm a Seeker."
They all nodded and mounted their brooms, flying up into the air. Draco walked over to the trunk that sat in the middle of the field. The house elves had drug the trunk out earlier that morning, at Draco's request the previous night. The bats sat next to the trunk. Draco tossed the bats up and Goyle, Karl, Crabbe, and Adrien caught them. Draco put his broomstick into his right hand and popped the trunk. The Bludgers and Snitch flew into the air and Draco picked up the Quaffle. He threw it up and Marcus snatched it. Draco mounted his own broom and flew up, dodging a Bludger as it flew by him. He pulled himself into a position high above the action. Terrace, the other team's Seeker, was hovering above the action as well. Terrace gave him a quick smile. "This is the easy part!" he called.
Draco grinned. "Not much to do until we see the Snitch!"
Terrace nodded and looked down below them. Draco followed his gaze and watched as Marcus and Adrian passed the Quaffle between them and threw it in for a goal. Sandra took the Quaffle and between her and Terence, they took it towards their goal.
"Nice one, Sandra!" Draco yelled.
Then Adrian swooped down between them, caught the Quaffle, and sped towards the other end, laughing. Sandra just shook her head, laughing, and sped after him. Adrian threw the Quaffle up and batted it past Tawny and through the hoop. He hit a high five to Marcus and they followed Terence as he sped towards his goal, the Quaffle under his arm. Goyle swept in front of Draco as a Bludger flew towards Draco. Goyle batted the Bludger towards Sandra, who ducked.
"Good one, Goyle," Draco said, smiling. Goyle grinned and flew off. A gold blur caught Draco's attention and he looked over to his right, spotting the Snitch. He turned his broom and sped towards it. Terrace chased after him, inching closer. Draco shot forward with a burst of speed, ducking as a Bludger flew by his head. He reached out his hand as Terrace pulled up next to him. Draco knocked him in the side, but Terrace kept flying. Not bad, Draco thought. But not good enough, Draco grinned. He shot forward again and swept his hand down, feeling the cool ball in his grip. He grinned.
"I got the Snitch!" Draco yelled.
"Brilliant," Marcus said, flying up and stopping next to him. "Not bad. You've been playing all your life, right?"
Draco nodded. "Oh yes, and I've always played Seeker, even in the leagues when I was younger."
Marcus nodded. "Well, that's always good to know. Victoria Bletchley just isn't making it as a Keeper. She's decent, but although I don't like to admit it, the Gryffindor team has improved immensely compared to last year. Last year we squashed them flat!" he said, grinning. "But this year, they're tough. Terence isn't a bad Seeker, but he's a better Chaser, so we'll have an opening for Seeker next year. Keep that in mind."
Draco nodded as Marcus flew off to talk to Adrian. Draco grinned. Yes!
"What are you smiling at?" Tawny asked, flying up to hover next to Draco.
"Oh, I just might have a very good chance of being on the team next year."
"That's brilliant!"
"I know."
"You'll flatten Potter."
"Let's hope so," Draco said, smiling. "He needs to find out that he's not so perfect after all."
"Oy! Draco!" Marcus yelled. Draco looked down at him as Marcus ducked a flying Bludger. "Let's start another match!"
"Right." Draco released the Snitch and it flew off, disappearing.
Marcus threw the Quaffle to Terence and he and Terence flew towards their goal.
"Better go!" Tawny cried and sped off to defend her hoops.
As they proceeded through the second match, a steady rain began to fall. Draco soon became drenched and his hands were going numb. He shivered as he watched Marcus and Adrian speed beneath him, heading to their goal. A flash of lightning lit up the pitch and Draco spotted a flash of gold down near the ground. Draco dove and Terrace flew after him. Draco pulled up sharply, nearing the ground. He held on tightly with his right hand, reaching out. The Snitch fluttered in front of him and Draco leaped, swiping down his hand at the same time. He tumbled in the mud, finally coming to rest on his back. He sat up, grinning, holding up the Snitch.
"I got the Snitch!" Draco yelled over a clap of thunder. All the others flew down, landing. Draco swept his hand over his hair and wiped the rain from his face. "Let's go into the manor," he said. "First though, we need to get the Bludgers back into the trunk."
"Right," Carolina said. "Let's go." She flew up into the air, followed by Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcus. A few moments later, Goyle and Marcus had the wriggling Bludgers held tightly in their arms. They wrestled them into the trunk and Draco put the Snitch and Quaffle away. He closed the trunk and left the bats next to the trunk. The house elves would put it away after the rain stopped.
Draco headed towards the manor, the others trooping down the muddy slope after him. He heard a loud cry behind him and turned to see Carolina sprawled in the mud. He ran over to her, helping her up. "Are you okay?" he asked.
She smiled, nodding. "I'm fine. That mud is just so slippery!"
Draco chuckled. "Yes, mud can be funny like that."
As they trudged towards the manor, a thought arose in Draco's mind. I wish I could be like this at school. I feel so relaxed now and I just had such a brilliant time with my friends playing Quidditch. No acting there. We just had a good time and didn't worry about appearances. The only time I can feel relaxed at school is in the common room, and even there, I still have to hold up to the standards that my father has set for me for the most part. Every single moment of every single day if I'm around anyone that isn't a Slytherin, I have to keep up my act. I hate it. I just wish I could be myself and not be the person my father is trying to shape me into.
Draco sighed and led them through a back entrance and into the large kitchen where house elves were bustling around, cooking dinner. As soon as they entered, a large group of house elves rushed over to them.
"You is all muddy, sir!" one of them cried.
"Get us some hot cocoa and some warm baths," Draco ordered.
"Yes, sir!" the house-elves cried, and began scurrying around.
Draco looked at his friends. "We'll go upstairs and get cleaned up." They nodded and followed Draco up a back staircase to a group of rooms clustered together.
"These are nice," Tawny commented.
"We never use them," Draco said. "Each of these has its own bath and they should be ready. All the closets have clothes in them, mostly black, but they should fit for the most part. There are some large things for you two, things you've left here," Draco added, looking at Crabbe and Goyle. They nodded.
"Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but that bath is calling my name," Sandra said and she walked into one of the larger rooms, closing the door.
"I'll have the house elves bring you up hot cocoa," Draco said, looking at the rest of them. "Just meet back in my room. Crabbe and Goyle know where it is." They nodded and Draco left, heading to his room. He glanced back at the long carpet that covered the dark wood floor down the center of the hall. He smiled as his muddy footsteps disappeared into the carpet. Always loved that part. This place is never dirty. Draco chuckled and walked into his room. He went into the bathing chamber and was pleased when he saw the steam rising from the bath. He quickly got out of his muddy robes and equipment. He set them on a small circle on the floor and they disappeared. The house elves would bring them up later, completely clean. Draco warmed himself and cleaned the mud out of his hair and then pulled on a clean robe. He went into his room and pulled open his closet. Something nice for dinner. Hmm . . . what to wear? He looked through his shirts and pulled out a white collared shirt and a black long-sleeved sweater with a V-neck. He pulled out one of his nicer black cloaks, one that had red lining in the inside. He took a pair of black pants and black boots and walked over to his bed. He put the clothes on and was sitting on his bed, pulling on his boots, when Crabbe and Goyle entered, followed by the rest, all bathed and in clean clothes.
"I feel much better," Sandra said, stretching her arms. "It was getting bloody cold out there!"
"You're telling me," Terrace grumbled, sitting in a chair. "At least you were always moving."
"Well, we're warm now, so don't worry about it," Carolina said, sitting down in another chair. Karl lay down on the bed, propping his head up with a large pillow.
A table suddenly appeared in the center of the room with steaming mugs of cocoa on it.
"Cocoa! Brilliant!" Marcus said, grinning. He walked over to the table and picked up a mug, the steam rising in his face. He sipped and then let out a yell. "Bloody hell, that's hot!"
Everyone laughed. "Glad you tried it first, then," Adrian said. "Better you than us. Now we know not to take a drink of really hot cocoa!" Everyone laughed again, including Marcus, who shook his head.
Draco stood and walked over to the table, picking up the mug. "You'd better let Marcus try it first! He'll tell you if it's hot or not!" Karl said, howling with laughter. He laughed so hard that he fell of the bed. "Ow," he said, sitting up and rubbing his head. Everyone laughed again.
"Here, Karl," Draco said walking over to Karl and handing the mug to him.
He helped Karl to his feet. He looked at Draco, smiling. "Thanks," he said.
Draco shrugged. "Not a problem," he said and walked over to the table, picking up a mug. He blew across the top of it, cooling it slightly. He took a tentative sip. Not bad.
Sandra walked over and picked up a mug. She looked at Draco, taking a sip. "You know, you're a decent Quidditch player for a first-year."
"Thanks, I think," Draco said, quirking an eyebrow. He took a sip of his cocoa.
Sandra smiled. "No, I mean it. I think you have a really good chance of making the team next year."
"What about you? You're not bad."
Sandra shrugged. "I'll be a sixth-year and I'm probably going to be a prefect, so I'm not going to have much time for the team. Besides, I'm alright, but I'd hold back the team more than I'd help it."
"You never know," Draco said, shrugging.
"So you're going to try out?" Tawny asked as she picked up a mug.
"Yes, I think I will," Draco said. "Besides, someone needs to show Potter he's not all that he thinks he is. And I'm just the person to do it. Gryffindor had better savor their success because next year, Slytherin is going to be back on top."
"Here, here!" Marcus called. Draco grinned. "That last match, he nearly swallowed the Snitch!"
"That was priceless," Karl said, laughing.
"That it was," Draco said, still grinning.
"You know what we really need, though?" Marcus said.
"What?" Karl asked.
"We need better broomsticks. We're all on Comet Two-Sixties for the most part and Potter's Nimbus Two-Thousand really outshines us. If they come out with a new broomstick next year, we've got to get it. Then Gryffindor really won't stand a chance."
Everyone nodded in agreement. "Right you are," Adrian said.
"That would cost a bit, now wouldn't it?" Adrien asked.
Marcus nodded. "That's the problem. My father didn't get me a Nimbus Two- Thousand for that reason. He said that is was a waste of good money for just a broom. He knows that the Nimbus is far superior to the Comet, but he can't just see throwing away that much money on a broomstick."
"My father didn't get me the Nimbus, either," Draco said sullenly.
"I wonder what's going to be next?" Carolina asked.
Draco shrugged. "Who knows? I suppose we'll just have to wait."
"Draco?" came his mother's voice through his closed door.
"Yes, Mother?" Draco called.
"Your father wants you down in the parlor. His visitors will be arriving shortly."
"Okay, I'm coming." Draco looked at his friends. "Well, I have to be going. Father is having a dinner tonight; something I look forward to immensely," Draco said, slightly sarcastic.
Marcus nodded. "Well, I'd better be off home. It'll be dinner soon."
Draco nodded. "I'll see you back at school."
"Right."
A table appeared just then with all their clothes and Quidditch gear clean and folded. After all the goodbyes had been said, everyone took their clothes and gear and gradually filtered from his room. They changed back into their clothes and gave Draco the clothes that they had borrowed. Crabbe and Goyle were the last ones to leave, and Draco made sure that they didn't leave anything this time.
When everyone was gone, Draco looked in his mirror one last time, making sure that he looked appropriate. He smoothed the folds in his cloak and headed downstairs.
~ ~ ~
Draco stood at the base of the staircase, next to his father, awaiting the arrival of his father's visitors. "You remember what to do?" his father asked coolly, keeping his eyes forward.
"Yes, Father," Draco said, glancing around.
"Good."
Just then the large front door opened and his father stepped forward to great his guests. "Macnair, so good of you to make it. And Nott, very nice to see you."
"Yes, Lucius," Nott said, looking around. Then he looked at Draco. "Ah, Draco, we've heard much about you."
"I hope it is all pleasant," Draco said, giving a small smile. He saw his father glance at him and Draco stiffened, but his father didn't say anything.
"It is," Nott said with a cool smile. "Brandon had told me much of what has happened at Hogwarts, thus far."
"Shall we go into the dining hall?" Lucius asked, drawing Nott's attention away from Draco. Thankfully! He gives me the creeps.
"Yes, yes, very well," Nott said.
"Lead the way," Macnair said and they followed Lucius out of the parlor. Draco trailed a bit behind, running what his father had told him through his mind.
When he entered the dining hall, he took his seat next to Macnair and the food appeared. They began eating.
"So, Draco, I haven't had a chance to speak with you yet," Macnair said, taking a bit of his carrots. "I know you've recently started at Hogwarts. Have you made many friends?"
Draco nodded. "Yes, sir," he said. "Crabbe and Goyle are also there with me, and we are in the same dorm with Brandon Nott."
"Good," Macnair said, smiling. "You've made Slytherin, I presume."
"Of course," Draco said smugly, letting a smile cross his face. A look from his father made his smile disappear and Draco turned to his lamp chops, cutting a piece and eating it.
"Draco takes after you," Macnair chuckled, looking at Lucius.
"Yes, well, he is my son and he should take after me," Lucius said, glancing at Draco with a cool expression.
Draco glanced at him and quickly bowed his head, eating more of his lamb.
Nott and Macnair chuckled. "He's got you down pat in the expressions department," Nott said.
Lucius didn't say anything; instead, he began eating his fried potatoes.
"Well, Draco, how did Quidditch tryouts go?" Macnair asked.
"I -" Draco began uncomfortably, but Nott cut in, saving Draco from answering.
"My son, Brandon, said that they wouldn't even let first-years try out," Nott said, shaking his head. "I think that's completely unreasonable. Why shouldn't first-years have just as much of a chance as the rest? Brandon has been playing for years and he's rather good."
"Well, I heard, that they did let a first-year on the team," Macnair said, his lip curling up into a sneer. "That Potter kid."
Nott raised his eyebrows. "I see; Brandon didn't mention that, although he was always bitter when talking about Quidditch."
"Yes, Harry Potter, the new celebrity at Hogwarts," Macnair said, sneering. "Soon enough, Potter won't be receiving any more special privileges, once -" At a glare from Lucius, Macnair stopped. "Right."
"So, Macnair, how is business going?" Lucius asked, changing the subject.
"Good. We've managed to hunt down a few more Knarls and we just ridded a house of Bundimuns. You wouldn't believe some of the problems those Muggles have, and then we have to go in to extract the beasts." Lucius cleared his throat and Macnair's eyes widened in realization. "Oh, that business, oh, well -"
Lucius looked at Draco and said coldly, "You are dismissed, Draco. Remember what I told you about tomorrow. Do that now."
Draco nodded and took a bit of his lamb. He hadn't finished dinner yet, but when his father told him to leave, he was to leave. Draco stood, glanced at the plate as it disappeared and left the dining hall.
"What's going on tomorrow?" Nott asked, his voice drifting into the hall.
"More Ministry officials are coming to search our manor," Lucius said disdainfully.
Draco walked up the long staircase and up to his room. The two tables that had once housed hot cocoa and his friends' clothes had disappeared. However, on his bedside table, a plate of food had appeared. The food that he hadn't had a chance to finish. Draco smiled and walked over to it, finishing his supper.
After the plate had disappeared, Draco sat on his bed, thinking. I don't see how Muggles live without house elves. They do everything around here! And the mess; I suppose Muggles actually have to clean it up. No carpet to absorb the dirt in those sorts of houses. Draco smiled. One more of the advantages of being a pure-blood. Well, I suppose it's just too bad that Potter can't enjoy it, of course, he got to stay at Hogwarts over the holiday. In a way, I envy him a bit. My friends are brilliant and all, but when they're not here, this manor is boring and all I have to do is homework, which is not at all enticing. Hogwarts would be much more interesting. Perhaps I can persuade father to let me stay there next Christmas. He might permit it.
Draco stood. Time to search the manor for the thousandth time, Draco thought unhappily. He began walking the halls, going into every room, searching it from top to bottom, making sure there wasn't a trace of the Dark Arts. The Aurors would be able to pick up any tiny trace, so Draco had to make sure he was thorough.
Hours upon hours later, Draco finally dragged himself back into his room, completely exhausted. The manor was so huge and it took so long to do a thorough search. Draco collapsed onto his bed, his eyes shutting. Tomorrow is Christmas, he thought sleepily and he fell into a deep sleep.
~ ~ ~
On Christmas afternoon, Draco awoke to a bright beam of sunshine streaming in through his window. He hadn't had the energy to close his drapes, so the sunlight was in full force. Draco mumbled something unintelligible and rolled himself out of his bed, falling onto the floor. "Bloody hell," he cursed softly, his face smushed against the hard wood floor. He picked himself up, rubbing his face. "Wouldn't Potter have loved to see that," he grumbled, standing.
He walked over to his closet and searched through the clothes. The previous day's clothes had already been cleaned and hung back up. His Quidditch gear, he assumed, was back in the trunk. Draco picked out a dark green robe, black turtleneck, and black pants, and got dressed. He pulled on the black dragon-hide boots that he had received for his birthday and headed downstairs.
The smell of pies and food wafted through the high-arched corridors, making Draco smile. He walked into the large living room with its high-arched ceilings, tapestries and bookshelves filling the walls, and two huge couches near the fireplace. He looked over at the huge Christmas tree and the presents underneath them. His mother sat in a chair next to the tree and stood when he entered.
"Happy Christmas, Draco," she said, smiling. She walked up to him, giving him a hug.
Draco stepped back, looking at his mother. He smiled. "Happy Christmas, Mother." Draco looked around. "Where's Father?"
"He's at the Ministry."
"On Christmas?" Draco asked, raising his eyebrows.
Narcissa sighed. "You know how important your father's work is. He'll be back as soon as he can; the Aurors will be with him. But, meanwhile," she said, giving him a small smile, "why don't we go ahead and open your presents."
Draco smiled slightly. "Sure." Why can't father be here on Christmas? I've never had a Christmas with him; he's always gone. Once I'm back at Hogwarts, I won't see him again. He's always so busy with work and when he is home, it seems like he acts like I don't exist, except where it concerns him. It's like he doesn't want to acknowledge that I'm his son, but he knows that he has to, so he does, reluctantly. Am I that poor of a son that he doesn't want me? Draco pushed away the thoughts and walked over to the tree, where his mother was now kneeling.
She handed him a large box. "This is from your father and me."
Draco sat down and took the box. He ripped off the paper and opened the box. Inside were two rich-looking royal blue and dark green cloaks, a black silk shirt, a pair of green silk pajamas, a pair of dragon-hide boots (this time dark green), two pairs of black pants, and a dark green and silver sweater.
Draco smiled. "Thanks, Mother. It's perfect."
Narcissa smiled. "Good, I had hoped you would like it. I know you always need more clothes, the way you are growing."
Draco chuckled. "As always, Mother, you are right."
He set the box down as Narcissa handed him another. "This is from your grandparents."
Draco nodded, opening the small box. Inside was an ornately carved black box with his name in-scripted in gold on the cover. There was also an indentation of a handprint on the cover. He pulled it out of the box it had come in and turned it over in his hands. It was about a foot in length and half a foot wide and deep. "What is this?" he asked.
"It's a box where you can place all your most treasured and secret items. Once you place your hand on the one on the cover, it will be linked to you; meaning that only you can open the box."
"Brilliant," Draco said, smiling. "They always seem to know exactly what I want, without even me realizing it."
He opened a few more boxes containing more clothes. Once he was finished, he gathered the wrapping paper in one pile and it disappeared. He was collecting his presents when his father strode in, following by four men in various colors of cloaks. Draco stood, making his face expressionless.
"Hello, Father. Happy Christmas," Draco said, smiling.
His father gave him a curt nod. "Draco, the Aurors are going to search the manor and while they are doing this, I would prefer if you stayed in your room and out of the way."
"Yes, Father," Draco said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Why is he always shutting me away? He can't even say Happy Christmas! He picked up his things.
"Narcissa -"
"I know, Lucius," she said, interrupting him. She rose, gracefully, and left the room. Draco walked by the Aurors, glancing up at them as he passed. He though they looked like an unhappy bunch. He walked up the staircase. Another Christmas by myself. Well, at least I got to spend a little time with my mother. Draco sighed. At least at Hogwarts there were other kids and I could busy myself with them. But, I do like being at home, although I hardly see my parents. Mother does exactly what Father tells her to do, and most of the time it leaves me on my own. Draco walked into his room and put away his presents, except for the box. He sat down on his bed and placed his hand on it. He heard a clicking noise and the lid popped open. He closed the lid and placed it on his bed. He laid back, looking up at the drapes hanging above him.
I'm always on my own. Sure, I have friends, but it's not as if they can come over here all the time. Father wouldn't allow it. I know it may seem like I have everything but in truth, that's not how it is. I would give anything to have a father that was always around and would never be disappointed. And as much as I despise the Weasleys, I have to admit, they are a very close family. If my family was like that, life would be perfect, but of course, nothing is as ever as you wish it to be. Life won't allow it. I know I come across as a selfish, arrogant, snobby rich- kid, but it's all a lie. It's my barrier to protect myself from the world around me. My father has pounded his ideas of what a Malfoy should act like into my brain so much I don't think it'll ever leave. I would love to be like Potter and not have to worry about what my father thinks all the time. Every single move my father watches, and I feel like I can't put a toe out of line, or there would be serious consequences. I just hate being forced into someone that I'm not, but I suppose I'll never be able to change that. I am a Malfoy and I will always be a Malfoy; that will never change.
And although I might try to be my own person, I will always be in my father's shadow, no matter how hard I try to move out from it. I admire my father deeply and I do want to be like him, but is the pain of disappointment worth it? I don't want to hurt him, yet I don't think I'll ever be the son he really wants. I know that I'm weak and not very bright, but I try, I really do. And then people like Granger just waltz along and steal all that I've worked so hard to accomplish. I just don't see how she does it. And the part that angers me the most is that she's a Mudblood. And then there's Weasley. He has life a lot better than I think he gives himself credit for. Of course, he is always giving me dirty looks and saying nasty remarks either about me or my house. So, obviously, I'm going to be defensive and I'm going to be nasty right back to him. The laughable part is, in a way, I don't want to be nasty to him, it's just what my father wishes, and so it is done, regardless of what I think. He has given me strict guidelines in which I am to follow, and that means despising Weasleys and Mudbloods. And then, there's Potter, who in fact, has everything. I don't think he realizes how lucky he really is. Sure, he doesn't have parents and he lives with Muggles, but he's a very talented wizard, brighter than I'll ever be, and a superb Quidditch player, and he doesn't even try! And the professors adore him. Saint Potter, that's what he is. Potter can do no wrong. We should all be like Potter! It disgusts me! Nobody ever sees the rest of us because we're all in Potter's shadow. I know I shouldn't get so angry and jealous, but I just can't help it.
Draco heard a 'POP!' and looked over to see that a table had appeared in his room. On it was a plate of food, a dish of desert, and a goblet of pumpkin juice. Draco sighed and got off of his bed. He pulled a chair over to the table and sat down. He began eating his pork chops, cutting small bites and putting them in his mouth.
They probably had a brilliant Christmas. Draco thought bitterly as he ate his dinner in silence. At least they had a Christmas Feast with other people. What a picture I make, eating all by myself. Potter and Weasley would get a dozen laughs if they saw me now.
~ ~ ~
After the Aurors left, the rest of the holiday flew by rather quickly, and for that Draco was glad. He occupied himself by doing his homework, which at least took his thoughts away from being alone.
Soon, Draco was on his way back to Hogwarts, sitting across from Crabbe and Goyle on the train, watching them as they stuffed themselves on sweets. Draco just sighed and looked out the window, watching as the scenery flew by.
Year One
Chapter Five
-Christmas -
Draco sat in Potions during a particularly cold December Friday, measuring out powdered spine of lionfish. He kept close to his hot cauldron, trying to stay as warm as possible. His scarf was wrapped tightly around his neck.
"So, are you going home for the Christmas holiday?" Brandon asked.
"Of course, unlike some people," Draco said. He looked pointedly at Potter, who was measuring his lionfish, as he spoke, "I do feel so sorry for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."
Crabbe and Goyle chuckled. "At least we get to go home," Goyle said as Draco turned back around, putting the powdered spine into the boiling cauldron.
"Yeah, we're wanted," Crabbe said.
Draco just laughed.
~ ~ ~
After Potions, they were heading back to their common room when they stopped, seeing that a large fir tree was blocking the corridor ahead. Draco rolled his eyes. It's cold enough down here. Why is that oaf going and blocking the corridors for? Honestly, didn't he have the courtesy to keep it out of the way? Draco spotted Potter and Weasley standing behind the fir. Why are they just standing there, blocking the way?
"Would you mind moving out of the way?" Draco asked coldly. "Or are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gameKeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose - that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."
Suddenly Weasley dove at Draco, grabbing the front of Draco's robes. Draco looked at him wide-eyed and then sneered as he saw Snape walk up. "WEASLEY!"
Weasley let go of Draco's robes and looked at Snape. Draco smirked and brushed his robes.
"He was provoked, Professor Snape," Hagrid said, looking from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."
"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," Snape said. Draco grinned. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."
Draco smirked. Serves him right for lunging at me like that! Those Weasleys are so troublesome! Draco brushed past the large tree, Crabbe and Goyle following. As they walked, Draco looked at them. "I'm going to go to the library. You two coming?" Crabbe and Goyle both shook their heads and Draco nodded. "Alright then, I'll see you later."
Crabbe and Goyle walked off and Draco turned down a corridor, heading for the library. Once there, he walked over to one of the large tables in the center and pulled out his Potions and Transfiguration books, and sat down to begin his homework.
A few hours later, Terrace came over and asked for help with his Potions. After showing him where to find the information, Draco turned back to his own homework.
Finally, around midnight, Draco finished and headed back to the common room. It was empty as he walked through it and up to his room. I wish I didn't have to study so much or work so hard on my homework. That homework should have been easy, but it's just not. I hope father won't get angry that I'm not top of my class. Wait until he hears that a Mudblood is top. That'll really make him happy.
Draco pulled on his pajamas and slid into his bed. He closed the drapes and went to sleep.
~ ~ ~
Hogwarts mercifully let their students go, but not until after giving them a nice round of testing and loads of homework. Draco knew that he was going to end up spending his entire holiday working on the load that the professors had given him. Oh well, Draco thought as he sat in the back of the car, heading back to Malfoy Manor. At least it'll give me something to do other than wander the corridors aimlessly. I hope it won't be as boring as it was last year. I thought I was going to die of boredom, just sitting there in my room. Maybe I'll get my broomstick! Draco thought happily. I deserve one if Potter got one.
When they reached the manor, Draco took his trunk and cage with Mabol up to his room silently. As he opened the door, he looked around. High arched ceiling, two large windows, one smaller window, a huge closet, a large four- poster bed, thick, expensive carpets that covered most of the dark wood floor, dark wood paneled walls; this was his home. He sighed and set the trunk at the foot of his bed. He took Mabol's cage over to a table near the smaller window and opened the cage door. He opened the window and Mabol hooted, flying out into the night.
Draco walked over to his bed and sat down, his feet dangling. It was slightly chilly in his room, but not even close to the temperature of the dungeons in which they had their some of their classes. He took off his scarf and gloves, laying them on his bed. He flopped down on his back, looking up at the drapes that covered the top of his bed, his cloak spread around him. He took his wand out of his pocket and looked at it. Then he sighed, setting it down on the bed.
After a few minutes, the complete silence began to annoy him. He had grown used to the loudness of the common room and to Crabbe and Goyle running into the room, talking loudly. In a way, he would even miss Potter, because that had given him something to laugh about, although every time he thought about Potter, anger rose in his chest. It just wasn't fair, Draco thought for the thousandth time. Potter gets everything. Friends, special privileges. And I don't think he realizes how lucky he is to be on the Quidditch team! I would have given anything to be on the team! I've been dreaming about it for years! Then he just waltzes right in and gets put on the team! Just because he's famous! And on top of the, he gets a Nimbus Two-Thousand, the broom I want so badly! Even though he doesn't have a proper family, he has a better life than I'll ever have. Sure, I love my father and I admire him deeply, but I get this horrible feeling that my father is disappointed in me. I've tried to hard to be the perfect son, but I don't think I'm good enough. I don't think I'll ever be good enough for him. My mother tries to reassure me that he loves me very much, but I think it's just words. She never speaks up against my father; I think she's afraid to. Then there's the Dark Magic. The secret passageway underneath the manor holds all of our Dark Arts things and sure, they're really interesting, but is it what I want? I don't know what my father is doing with all that stuff; if the ministry ever found out, he'd be taken away to Azkaban, and that's the last thing I need or want! I don't know what I'd do without my father; or my mother for that matter. The Dark Arts fascinate me, but I don't want to make the wrong choices. Then there's the Dark Lord himself. I know he was defeated by Potter, but he's still out there, I know that. What if he comes back? What will happen to my family? What would happen to me?
~ ~ ~
Later that evening, Draco finally made his way downstairs and into the large dining hall. A plate of food sat at the far end and Draco walked over to it, sitting down. He ate his dinner silently, looking around at the tapestries. Another meal by myself, Draco thought. It always turns out that way. I miss Hogwarts and the Great Hall.
He was finishing his desert when his mother walked in. She looked at him, smiling. "Draco, I'm so glad that you're finally home. I've missed you very much. You received my packages and letters?"
Draco nodded, swallowing. He stood up, walking over to his mother. "I missed you too, mother," Draco said, hugging her. He pulled back.
Her eyes scanned his face. "You've changed so much in these past few months," she said, smiling. "And you're at least two inches taller. When your father comes home, you'll have to tell us all about what's happened at Hogwarts. Your letters told us a little, but I'm sure there are other things."
Draco managed a smile. "Sure, mother," he said. Great, I get to disappoint my father. Just what I was looking forward to. Oh well, I suppose the conversation had to come sooner or later.
"Why don't we go sit in the den and you can tell me all about your friends," she said, smiling.
Draco shrugged. "Okay," he said and followed her into the den.
"As you said in your letters, you've adjusted nicely. That is always good," she said, sitting on the couch. Draco sat down next to her.
He nodded. "Crabbe and Goyle are with me wherever I go, practically." He smiled. "Except for the library."
Narcissa laughed. "I didn't suppose that they would want to go in there. They were never the type to do homework."
"No, they aren't," Draco said. "Brandon usually studies with me and sometimes Terrance and Tawny."
"That is so nice to hear," Narcissa said, smiling. Draco didn't know why, but for some reason, his mother seemed a little aloof and her recent letters had not been as long as the first few. Draco hoped it wasn't anything bad.
"Draco," a cool voice said from the doorway. Draco looked up and immediately jumped to his feet.
"Father," he said quickly.
Lucius stood in the doorway, his white hair gleaming in the light from the fire. He held his staff in his left hand, the snake head glittering. "It's good to see that you've finally arrived back from Hogwarts. I trust your first term went well?"
"Yes, father," Draco said, nodding. He watched as his father walked over to a chair, his black cape swirling behind him. He sat down in the high- backed chair, watching Draco intently as he sat down on the couch.
"How did Quidditch tryouts go?" his father asked.
Draco swallowed. He had avoided saying anything about it thus far, and hadn't written anything about it in his letters. He had really hoped that his father wouldn't ask him about it, but that was like wishing for the moon. "Well," Draco started, not sure where to begin, "I - I didn't make it," he finally said. He tensed, waiting for his father to lash out at him, but it never came.
His father looked at him coolly. "I see. And why not?" he asked, his voice cold and emotionless.
"They wouldn't let first-years try out at all."
"Then why is Potter on the team?"
Draco winced. "You know about that?"
"Of course I do, boy, I'm not deaf," his father snapped.
Draco bit his lip and swallowed. "I'm sorry, father, I didn't mean to upset you."
"Yes, yes," his father said with a wave of his hand. "Well, I expect you to make it next year, understood?"
Draco nodded. "Yes, father."
"Has Potter managed to get any more special privileges?"
"Of course," Draco said bitterly. "He hardly ever gets into trouble and he always manages to worm his way out if he does. And they always bend the rules for him. That Muggle-lover Dumbledore adores Potter. He even got a Nimbus Two-Thousand." Draco slammed his fist into his palm. "It's not fair to the rest of us! Why does Potter get all the special treatment? Just because he's famous! And what's even better, he doesn't even care! He flaunts it like he's so special, but he's not! He's just a stupid prat! He didn't even know what Quidditch was before he came here!" Draco could feel some tears welling up in his eyes. "I wanted to make that team so badly! It meant so much to me! Then first-years weren't even allowed to try out, but Potter still managed to get in. And he acts like it's no big deal! It's not fair that he should have everything and the rest of us get left in the dirt!" Draco pulled his knees up and hugged them, burying his face in his knees. He could feel tears tricking down his cheeks and at that point, he didn't care what his father thought and that he wasn't supposed to show emotion, or cry because it showed weakness. "It's not fair," Draco said quietly, sobbing. "It's just not."
"You deal with this," Draco heard his father say. Draco heard a door shut and then arms wrapped themselves around him. Draco turned his head, burying it in his mother's arms.
"Why does Potter get everything? What makes him so special and above the rest of us?" Draco asked, wiping the tears from his eyes.
"Love, you're very special too," Narcissa said, putting her hand under Draco's chin, lifting his face. He looked up at her. She smiled. "Don't you ever forget that. Just because some people think that they are better than you because they get special treatment doesn't mean that they are. It is not your abilities that make who you are; it is your choices. Harry Potter may choose to flaunt what he has, but that is his choice, and while it may not be the right one, it is what he chose to do. You have your own choices to make. You were fortunate to be born into a good family and you have grown up with a family. Harry Potter never did have a proper family; he was raised by Muggles, but that doesn't make him a bad person. Just as your family does not decide what kind of person you are. I know your father expects impossible things of you, but you have to understand what he has gone through to become what he is now. His father didn't set standards for him and Lucius wanted to become something greater. He worked hard to bring you what you see around you, and you have to remember, no matter what, he loves you. I know that he doesn't always seem like he cares, but inside, he is in turmoil. He has pushed himself to his limits and beyond and he just wants you to push yourself to be your very best."
"But I'm just going to disappoint him," Draco said softly, looking down.
"Draco, nobody is perfect and you can't expect to be. But you cannot wallow in sorrow either. You have to choose to rise above the rest, or else your life will be meaningless. You have to trust that your father knows what is best. Do not worry about disappointing him. He will proud of you; no matter what."
Draco shook his head. "I don't think so, mother. He knows what he wants me to be, and he knows that I'll never be his perfect son. I can see it in his face when he looks at me!" Draco said, looking up at his mother. "I'm weak and I'm stupid, and no matter what I do, I'll always disappoint him."
"Draco, don't talk like that," Narcissa said sharply.
"But it's true!"
"You don't know that. Your father struggles constantly with himself, always trying to improve. If you see disappointment on his face, it's not because of you; it's because he looks down on himself. He wants you to have a good life and he doesn't want you to make the same mistakes that he did."
"You're wrong."
"Draco -"
"No," Draco said, pushing himself away. He stood. "I admire father so much that it really cuts into me when I disappoint him. I don't deserve to bear the name of Malfoy! I'm nothing! Don't you understand that? Potter has proven that to me numerous times! I try and try, but I just never seem to be good enough! And then Granger comes in and she's not even pure- blood! Yet she's top of our class and she's brilliant! She doesn't even have to try and she excels at everything! And Potter's the same way! I don't even think he realizes it!" Draco shook his head. "No, he doesn't. He's a lot smarter than he gives himself credit for and on top of that, he has tons of friends and he flies like a natural! He had never even been near a broom until that Flying Lesson, and then he just hops on it like it's nothing! I watched him during the Quidditch match, and I'll admit that he deserves to be Seeker! My father is wrong when he says that I should be on the team! I'm not good enough, and I probably will never be."
"Draco, where is the confident youth I know? Where is the boy that knows that he is good and not useless?"
"I don't know, mother," Draco said, looking at the fire. "I thought that I was the best and that nobody could top me." Draco let out a bitter laugh. "What a shock I was in for." He stomped his foot, clenching his hands into fists. "It's that Potter and that Granger. They make me doubt myself and I hate it! Inside, I know that I'm better than them, but on the outside, it just doesn't seem like that. I studied so hard for finals and you know what grades I received? Eighty and ninety percents! I studied for hours on end, pouring through books, even though father said that I shouldn't study because I'm a Malfoy and Malfoy's don't need to study. Well, this Malfoy does! I worked so hard to prepare myself and Granger," Draco gritted his teeth in anger. "Granger doesn't even study and she received top marks! Well over a hundred and ten percent! That's just not fair! And you know what made it worse? Her, Potter, and that stupid Weasley! They all looked at me smugly and Weasley just had to rub it in my face that even he had received better marks than me!"
"Draco, please -"
"Mother, just face it. I'll never be good enough to please father. I don't deserve to be his son," Draco said quietly, falling into a chair. He looked at his hands. "I don't deserve any of this."
"Draco, don't talk like that," Narcissa said, standing and walking over to him. She knelt in front of him, looking up at his face. He looked at her. She smiled. "Don't let anyone talk you down. If there is one thing that I admire about your father, it is that he always remains confident in his abilities and remembers who he is. Draco, you are a Malfoy, and that will never change. You are better than you give yourself credit for and I believe that with all my heart. Don't ever doubt yourself, love. You have nothing to be disappointed about. You tried your best, and sometimes, that is all that you can do."
"But what if my best isn't good enough? Father seems to think that."
"As before, your father has set high standards that I'm not sure even he can reach. He just wants you to have goals and to always strive to do your personal best. Harry Potter and his friends may think that they are better than you, but they are not. Do you hear me? You are a good boy and a brilliant son, and you remember that. Be confident in your abilities, and you will rise above them all. You will make the house team and although Harry Potter may receive special privileges, that doesn't make him better than you. You will prove that. And don't you mind the Weasley boy. He is nothing compared to you. He is just trying to make you doubt yourself, and so far, he is succeeding. Is that what you want? To make them happy and give them exactly what they want?"
"No," Draco said softly.
"Then ignore their comments and go back to that cool, calm, and collected boy that I know. Ms. Granger may be smart, but it is her choice to make what she will of it. If she decides to throw it in your face, she is no better than the lowest life-forms. But you remember the same thing. If you are better than someone at something, don't throw it back in their faces, because then you'll be no better than those that you despise. Always remain confident, but don't come to the point where your confidence overwhelms you and blinds you to the world around you. That is one of your father's faults that he will never admit. I think he becomes too over- confident at times, but then, at other times, he is brilliant. Do not dwell on what you are not brilliant at; instead, look at what you are good at. You make friends, too, and you are not stupid. You received very good marks. Nobody can be the best at everything and you cannot expect to be, or you are blinding yourself to the truth. You are a very good Quidditch player, and don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. You used to compete in those mini-leagues when you were young and you were and still are a brilliant flyer. Harry Potter may have a gift with the broom, but that is him, not you. I've said this before, and I'm saying it again; you have a greater destiny than you or I could ever imagine. You are destined for great things and how you chose to go about achieving your destiny is what will form who you are."
Draco was silent and looked down at his feet. Narcissa stood. "Goodnight, Draco," she said and she walked away.
A few moments later, Draco left the room and headed upstairs to bed. He lay in bed, thinking about what his mother had said, long into the night and next morning.
~ ~ ~
Two days later, Draco stood in his father's study. He had not seen his father for the past few days, but that morning, his father had sent up word that he wished to speak to Draco, alone. Draco was very nervous, but kept running his mother's words through his mind. Always remain confident, no matter what. His father had told him that too. Well, he would just have to do that. Draco took a deep breath, calming his raging nerves. He looked around his father's impressive study. A large desk sat at one end and the walls, except for the large window, were covered with mahogany bookshelves, lined with books. Draco knew that there were no Dark Arts books in here; they were all down in the secret passageway, but there were still many interesting books sitting on the spotless shelves. Draco looked down at the plush dark red carpet beneath his feet and then looked at himself. Black boots, pants, and a turtleneck, hair slicked back; he was to always look presentable, no matter where he was.
Draco rubbed his hands together anxiously. He looked around again, glancing up at the high arched ceiling. Then he heard the door open and Draco immediately brought his attention to his father as he strode in, his cape swirling behind him. His father set his staff on the desk and turned to Draco, his gray eyes glittering, but his face cold as always.
"We are having visitors tonight for dinner and you will say the right things, and act like I have taught you," his father stated.
"Yes, father," Draco said, his confident look not faltering.
"If they ask you about school, you are not to mention a word about Potter, unless they specifically ask about him. If they ask about Quidditch, tell them that you didn't make the team, and nothing more. You will not say anything that will disgrace our name in front of them, am I understood?"
"Yes, father," Draco said. Who was coming?
"The visitors are old friends of mine; that is all you need to know. I am sure you will know them when you see them, but act like I have taught you, and we will not have any problems."
Draco nodded. "Yes, father."
"Good. Tomorrow is the most important, for there are Ministry officials coming. Clearly, they still suspect our family and we will not have their suspicions verified. Therefore, tonight, you will help search the manor and make sure that there is not a trace of any of our Dark Arts items. And if they ask you any questions, you know how to respond. Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes, father. I know what to do."
"Very well. You may go." Draco nodded and walked towards the door. "And Draco, don't forget what we have talked about."
"Yes, father," Draco said, and left the study.
Ministry officials! Why can't they just leave us alone! They've already searched our manor twice, now they have to do it again? Well, I suppose we'll just have to make sure they don't have any reason to come back a fourth time. The Ministry can be so bothersome; I don't know why father puts up with it. But I suppose he has to be there, or they would all become Muggle-lovers like Weasley and Dumbledore.
~ ~ ~
Draco walked up to his room and entered just as Mabol flew in with letters attached to her legs. Draco quickly untied them and gave her some water and food. She hooted softly and Draco opened his letters. They were replies from Terrace, Tawny, Marcus, Adrian, and Terence. They were going to come over after lunch to play some Quidditch in the pitch behind Malfoy Manor. Draco grinned. Now this is fun; I can't wait!
Since it was nearly lunch already, Draco went into the kitchen, quickly ate a sandwich and an apple, and then headed back upstairs to his room. Walking over to his closet, he flipped open the doors and knelt down. He popped the trunk open that was sitting in the bottom, pulling out his shin and knee guards, his hand, wrist and elbow guards, and his Comet Two-Sixty. Standing, he threw on his thick black cloak and put on his equipment, stretching his fingers in the fingerless gloves, smiling. Quidditch was definitely something to look forward to.
He picked up his broomstick and headed outside. It was cloudy and slightly windy, but otherwise not too bad. The snow had melted for the most part, so the green of the grass could be seen. Draco walked by the maze and then up a hill to the pitch. There were very heavy barriers around the pitch so that there wasn't any chance that a Bludger or the Snitch could get loose. Draco chuckled softly. Wouldn't that give Muggles something to stare at! I can just see it now. Huge ball flies through shop window and tears up store! Well, Draco thought seriously. It wouldn't be any fun for me. I would get in so much trouble if that happened. The one time the quaffle flew out of the pitch thankfully no one saw it. I would have lost my broomstick for sure and my father would have been so angry!
Draco grinned as he spotted the others already out on the pitch, their gear on, and capes flapping in the wind. He saw Terrace, Tawny, Crabbe, and Goyle off to one side, talking. Marcus, Adrian, and Terence were standing together, talking. Then Draco heard voices and looked to see four people walking towards the pitch. He smiled, recognizing Adrien Lanart, one of the Slytherin prefects, Carolina Vanderbaugh, a tall fifth-year, Sandra Hawkings, another fifth-year, and Karl Lanart, Adrien's younger brother and a third-year, currently on the Slytherin team.
This is going to be wicked! Draco thought, running the rest of the way onto the pitch. "You made it, brilliant!" Draco said, stopping in front of Marcus.
Marcus smiled. "We'd never turn down Quidditch," he said.
"Besides, I need to work on my Chaser skills," Terence said. "Being a Seeker is a lot harder than you'd think."
Draco nodded. "It is a rather tough position, isn't it? That's what I always play and it always seems that we get roughed up the most."
"Well, the Beaters help take off that load," Adrian said. He looked at Marcus and Terence. "You know, we could probably all be Chasers."
"Right," Marcus said. "Six per team, just one short of an actual team, it's pretty good." He smiled.
"I can work on my Beater skills," Karl said, running a hand through his short red hair. Draco realized that Karl was the same height as him, but stockier built. Beater, no wonder.
Draco looked at the others. "Come on then," Draco said, beckoning them over. They gathered around.
"Okay, so how are we working this?" Carolina asked.
"Six per team; one Keeper, two Beaters, two Chasers, and a Seeker," Marcus said.
"Alright then," Draco said, looking around. "Marcus, Adrian, Goyle, Carolina, Karl, and me on one team. Tawny, Crabbe, Adrien, Sandra, Terence, and Terrace on the other." The other team turned to each other and began figuring out positions.
Marcus looked at Draco, Goyle, and Carolina. "Adrian and I will be Chasers," Marcus said.
Draco nodded. "Goyle, you and Karl are Beaters; Carolina, you can be Keeper."
"Right," Carolina said. "That's fine, I usually play Keeper anyway."
The other team looked at them and Sandra walked forward. "We're ready. You?"
Draco nodded. "Let's mount and I'll release the Quaffle, Bludgers, and Snitch, since I'm a Seeker."
They all nodded and mounted their brooms, flying up into the air. Draco walked over to the trunk that sat in the middle of the field. The house elves had drug the trunk out earlier that morning, at Draco's request the previous night. The bats sat next to the trunk. Draco tossed the bats up and Goyle, Karl, Crabbe, and Adrien caught them. Draco put his broomstick into his right hand and popped the trunk. The Bludgers and Snitch flew into the air and Draco picked up the Quaffle. He threw it up and Marcus snatched it. Draco mounted his own broom and flew up, dodging a Bludger as it flew by him. He pulled himself into a position high above the action. Terrace, the other team's Seeker, was hovering above the action as well. Terrace gave him a quick smile. "This is the easy part!" he called.
Draco grinned. "Not much to do until we see the Snitch!"
Terrace nodded and looked down below them. Draco followed his gaze and watched as Marcus and Adrian passed the Quaffle between them and threw it in for a goal. Sandra took the Quaffle and between her and Terence, they took it towards their goal.
"Nice one, Sandra!" Draco yelled.
Then Adrian swooped down between them, caught the Quaffle, and sped towards the other end, laughing. Sandra just shook her head, laughing, and sped after him. Adrian threw the Quaffle up and batted it past Tawny and through the hoop. He hit a high five to Marcus and they followed Terence as he sped towards his goal, the Quaffle under his arm. Goyle swept in front of Draco as a Bludger flew towards Draco. Goyle batted the Bludger towards Sandra, who ducked.
"Good one, Goyle," Draco said, smiling. Goyle grinned and flew off. A gold blur caught Draco's attention and he looked over to his right, spotting the Snitch. He turned his broom and sped towards it. Terrace chased after him, inching closer. Draco shot forward with a burst of speed, ducking as a Bludger flew by his head. He reached out his hand as Terrace pulled up next to him. Draco knocked him in the side, but Terrace kept flying. Not bad, Draco thought. But not good enough, Draco grinned. He shot forward again and swept his hand down, feeling the cool ball in his grip. He grinned.
"I got the Snitch!" Draco yelled.
"Brilliant," Marcus said, flying up and stopping next to him. "Not bad. You've been playing all your life, right?"
Draco nodded. "Oh yes, and I've always played Seeker, even in the leagues when I was younger."
Marcus nodded. "Well, that's always good to know. Victoria Bletchley just isn't making it as a Keeper. She's decent, but although I don't like to admit it, the Gryffindor team has improved immensely compared to last year. Last year we squashed them flat!" he said, grinning. "But this year, they're tough. Terence isn't a bad Seeker, but he's a better Chaser, so we'll have an opening for Seeker next year. Keep that in mind."
Draco nodded as Marcus flew off to talk to Adrian. Draco grinned. Yes!
"What are you smiling at?" Tawny asked, flying up to hover next to Draco.
"Oh, I just might have a very good chance of being on the team next year."
"That's brilliant!"
"I know."
"You'll flatten Potter."
"Let's hope so," Draco said, smiling. "He needs to find out that he's not so perfect after all."
"Oy! Draco!" Marcus yelled. Draco looked down at him as Marcus ducked a flying Bludger. "Let's start another match!"
"Right." Draco released the Snitch and it flew off, disappearing.
Marcus threw the Quaffle to Terence and he and Terence flew towards their goal.
"Better go!" Tawny cried and sped off to defend her hoops.
As they proceeded through the second match, a steady rain began to fall. Draco soon became drenched and his hands were going numb. He shivered as he watched Marcus and Adrian speed beneath him, heading to their goal. A flash of lightning lit up the pitch and Draco spotted a flash of gold down near the ground. Draco dove and Terrace flew after him. Draco pulled up sharply, nearing the ground. He held on tightly with his right hand, reaching out. The Snitch fluttered in front of him and Draco leaped, swiping down his hand at the same time. He tumbled in the mud, finally coming to rest on his back. He sat up, grinning, holding up the Snitch.
"I got the Snitch!" Draco yelled over a clap of thunder. All the others flew down, landing. Draco swept his hand over his hair and wiped the rain from his face. "Let's go into the manor," he said. "First though, we need to get the Bludgers back into the trunk."
"Right," Carolina said. "Let's go." She flew up into the air, followed by Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcus. A few moments later, Goyle and Marcus had the wriggling Bludgers held tightly in their arms. They wrestled them into the trunk and Draco put the Snitch and Quaffle away. He closed the trunk and left the bats next to the trunk. The house elves would put it away after the rain stopped.
Draco headed towards the manor, the others trooping down the muddy slope after him. He heard a loud cry behind him and turned to see Carolina sprawled in the mud. He ran over to her, helping her up. "Are you okay?" he asked.
She smiled, nodding. "I'm fine. That mud is just so slippery!"
Draco chuckled. "Yes, mud can be funny like that."
As they trudged towards the manor, a thought arose in Draco's mind. I wish I could be like this at school. I feel so relaxed now and I just had such a brilliant time with my friends playing Quidditch. No acting there. We just had a good time and didn't worry about appearances. The only time I can feel relaxed at school is in the common room, and even there, I still have to hold up to the standards that my father has set for me for the most part. Every single moment of every single day if I'm around anyone that isn't a Slytherin, I have to keep up my act. I hate it. I just wish I could be myself and not be the person my father is trying to shape me into.
Draco sighed and led them through a back entrance and into the large kitchen where house elves were bustling around, cooking dinner. As soon as they entered, a large group of house elves rushed over to them.
"You is all muddy, sir!" one of them cried.
"Get us some hot cocoa and some warm baths," Draco ordered.
"Yes, sir!" the house-elves cried, and began scurrying around.
Draco looked at his friends. "We'll go upstairs and get cleaned up." They nodded and followed Draco up a back staircase to a group of rooms clustered together.
"These are nice," Tawny commented.
"We never use them," Draco said. "Each of these has its own bath and they should be ready. All the closets have clothes in them, mostly black, but they should fit for the most part. There are some large things for you two, things you've left here," Draco added, looking at Crabbe and Goyle. They nodded.
"Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but that bath is calling my name," Sandra said and she walked into one of the larger rooms, closing the door.
"I'll have the house elves bring you up hot cocoa," Draco said, looking at the rest of them. "Just meet back in my room. Crabbe and Goyle know where it is." They nodded and Draco left, heading to his room. He glanced back at the long carpet that covered the dark wood floor down the center of the hall. He smiled as his muddy footsteps disappeared into the carpet. Always loved that part. This place is never dirty. Draco chuckled and walked into his room. He went into the bathing chamber and was pleased when he saw the steam rising from the bath. He quickly got out of his muddy robes and equipment. He set them on a small circle on the floor and they disappeared. The house elves would bring them up later, completely clean. Draco warmed himself and cleaned the mud out of his hair and then pulled on a clean robe. He went into his room and pulled open his closet. Something nice for dinner. Hmm . . . what to wear? He looked through his shirts and pulled out a white collared shirt and a black long-sleeved sweater with a V-neck. He pulled out one of his nicer black cloaks, one that had red lining in the inside. He took a pair of black pants and black boots and walked over to his bed. He put the clothes on and was sitting on his bed, pulling on his boots, when Crabbe and Goyle entered, followed by the rest, all bathed and in clean clothes.
"I feel much better," Sandra said, stretching her arms. "It was getting bloody cold out there!"
"You're telling me," Terrace grumbled, sitting in a chair. "At least you were always moving."
"Well, we're warm now, so don't worry about it," Carolina said, sitting down in another chair. Karl lay down on the bed, propping his head up with a large pillow.
A table suddenly appeared in the center of the room with steaming mugs of cocoa on it.
"Cocoa! Brilliant!" Marcus said, grinning. He walked over to the table and picked up a mug, the steam rising in his face. He sipped and then let out a yell. "Bloody hell, that's hot!"
Everyone laughed. "Glad you tried it first, then," Adrian said. "Better you than us. Now we know not to take a drink of really hot cocoa!" Everyone laughed again, including Marcus, who shook his head.
Draco stood and walked over to the table, picking up the mug. "You'd better let Marcus try it first! He'll tell you if it's hot or not!" Karl said, howling with laughter. He laughed so hard that he fell of the bed. "Ow," he said, sitting up and rubbing his head. Everyone laughed again.
"Here, Karl," Draco said walking over to Karl and handing the mug to him.
He helped Karl to his feet. He looked at Draco, smiling. "Thanks," he said.
Draco shrugged. "Not a problem," he said and walked over to the table, picking up a mug. He blew across the top of it, cooling it slightly. He took a tentative sip. Not bad.
Sandra walked over and picked up a mug. She looked at Draco, taking a sip. "You know, you're a decent Quidditch player for a first-year."
"Thanks, I think," Draco said, quirking an eyebrow. He took a sip of his cocoa.
Sandra smiled. "No, I mean it. I think you have a really good chance of making the team next year."
"What about you? You're not bad."
Sandra shrugged. "I'll be a sixth-year and I'm probably going to be a prefect, so I'm not going to have much time for the team. Besides, I'm alright, but I'd hold back the team more than I'd help it."
"You never know," Draco said, shrugging.
"So you're going to try out?" Tawny asked as she picked up a mug.
"Yes, I think I will," Draco said. "Besides, someone needs to show Potter he's not all that he thinks he is. And I'm just the person to do it. Gryffindor had better savor their success because next year, Slytherin is going to be back on top."
"Here, here!" Marcus called. Draco grinned. "That last match, he nearly swallowed the Snitch!"
"That was priceless," Karl said, laughing.
"That it was," Draco said, still grinning.
"You know what we really need, though?" Marcus said.
"What?" Karl asked.
"We need better broomsticks. We're all on Comet Two-Sixties for the most part and Potter's Nimbus Two-Thousand really outshines us. If they come out with a new broomstick next year, we've got to get it. Then Gryffindor really won't stand a chance."
Everyone nodded in agreement. "Right you are," Adrian said.
"That would cost a bit, now wouldn't it?" Adrien asked.
Marcus nodded. "That's the problem. My father didn't get me a Nimbus Two- Thousand for that reason. He said that is was a waste of good money for just a broom. He knows that the Nimbus is far superior to the Comet, but he can't just see throwing away that much money on a broomstick."
"My father didn't get me the Nimbus, either," Draco said sullenly.
"I wonder what's going to be next?" Carolina asked.
Draco shrugged. "Who knows? I suppose we'll just have to wait."
"Draco?" came his mother's voice through his closed door.
"Yes, Mother?" Draco called.
"Your father wants you down in the parlor. His visitors will be arriving shortly."
"Okay, I'm coming." Draco looked at his friends. "Well, I have to be going. Father is having a dinner tonight; something I look forward to immensely," Draco said, slightly sarcastic.
Marcus nodded. "Well, I'd better be off home. It'll be dinner soon."
Draco nodded. "I'll see you back at school."
"Right."
A table appeared just then with all their clothes and Quidditch gear clean and folded. After all the goodbyes had been said, everyone took their clothes and gear and gradually filtered from his room. They changed back into their clothes and gave Draco the clothes that they had borrowed. Crabbe and Goyle were the last ones to leave, and Draco made sure that they didn't leave anything this time.
When everyone was gone, Draco looked in his mirror one last time, making sure that he looked appropriate. He smoothed the folds in his cloak and headed downstairs.
~ ~ ~
Draco stood at the base of the staircase, next to his father, awaiting the arrival of his father's visitors. "You remember what to do?" his father asked coolly, keeping his eyes forward.
"Yes, Father," Draco said, glancing around.
"Good."
Just then the large front door opened and his father stepped forward to great his guests. "Macnair, so good of you to make it. And Nott, very nice to see you."
"Yes, Lucius," Nott said, looking around. Then he looked at Draco. "Ah, Draco, we've heard much about you."
"I hope it is all pleasant," Draco said, giving a small smile. He saw his father glance at him and Draco stiffened, but his father didn't say anything.
"It is," Nott said with a cool smile. "Brandon had told me much of what has happened at Hogwarts, thus far."
"Shall we go into the dining hall?" Lucius asked, drawing Nott's attention away from Draco. Thankfully! He gives me the creeps.
"Yes, yes, very well," Nott said.
"Lead the way," Macnair said and they followed Lucius out of the parlor. Draco trailed a bit behind, running what his father had told him through his mind.
When he entered the dining hall, he took his seat next to Macnair and the food appeared. They began eating.
"So, Draco, I haven't had a chance to speak with you yet," Macnair said, taking a bit of his carrots. "I know you've recently started at Hogwarts. Have you made many friends?"
Draco nodded. "Yes, sir," he said. "Crabbe and Goyle are also there with me, and we are in the same dorm with Brandon Nott."
"Good," Macnair said, smiling. "You've made Slytherin, I presume."
"Of course," Draco said smugly, letting a smile cross his face. A look from his father made his smile disappear and Draco turned to his lamp chops, cutting a piece and eating it.
"Draco takes after you," Macnair chuckled, looking at Lucius.
"Yes, well, he is my son and he should take after me," Lucius said, glancing at Draco with a cool expression.
Draco glanced at him and quickly bowed his head, eating more of his lamb.
Nott and Macnair chuckled. "He's got you down pat in the expressions department," Nott said.
Lucius didn't say anything; instead, he began eating his fried potatoes.
"Well, Draco, how did Quidditch tryouts go?" Macnair asked.
"I -" Draco began uncomfortably, but Nott cut in, saving Draco from answering.
"My son, Brandon, said that they wouldn't even let first-years try out," Nott said, shaking his head. "I think that's completely unreasonable. Why shouldn't first-years have just as much of a chance as the rest? Brandon has been playing for years and he's rather good."
"Well, I heard, that they did let a first-year on the team," Macnair said, his lip curling up into a sneer. "That Potter kid."
Nott raised his eyebrows. "I see; Brandon didn't mention that, although he was always bitter when talking about Quidditch."
"Yes, Harry Potter, the new celebrity at Hogwarts," Macnair said, sneering. "Soon enough, Potter won't be receiving any more special privileges, once -" At a glare from Lucius, Macnair stopped. "Right."
"So, Macnair, how is business going?" Lucius asked, changing the subject.
"Good. We've managed to hunt down a few more Knarls and we just ridded a house of Bundimuns. You wouldn't believe some of the problems those Muggles have, and then we have to go in to extract the beasts." Lucius cleared his throat and Macnair's eyes widened in realization. "Oh, that business, oh, well -"
Lucius looked at Draco and said coldly, "You are dismissed, Draco. Remember what I told you about tomorrow. Do that now."
Draco nodded and took a bit of his lamb. He hadn't finished dinner yet, but when his father told him to leave, he was to leave. Draco stood, glanced at the plate as it disappeared and left the dining hall.
"What's going on tomorrow?" Nott asked, his voice drifting into the hall.
"More Ministry officials are coming to search our manor," Lucius said disdainfully.
Draco walked up the long staircase and up to his room. The two tables that had once housed hot cocoa and his friends' clothes had disappeared. However, on his bedside table, a plate of food had appeared. The food that he hadn't had a chance to finish. Draco smiled and walked over to it, finishing his supper.
After the plate had disappeared, Draco sat on his bed, thinking. I don't see how Muggles live without house elves. They do everything around here! And the mess; I suppose Muggles actually have to clean it up. No carpet to absorb the dirt in those sorts of houses. Draco smiled. One more of the advantages of being a pure-blood. Well, I suppose it's just too bad that Potter can't enjoy it, of course, he got to stay at Hogwarts over the holiday. In a way, I envy him a bit. My friends are brilliant and all, but when they're not here, this manor is boring and all I have to do is homework, which is not at all enticing. Hogwarts would be much more interesting. Perhaps I can persuade father to let me stay there next Christmas. He might permit it.
Draco stood. Time to search the manor for the thousandth time, Draco thought unhappily. He began walking the halls, going into every room, searching it from top to bottom, making sure there wasn't a trace of the Dark Arts. The Aurors would be able to pick up any tiny trace, so Draco had to make sure he was thorough.
Hours upon hours later, Draco finally dragged himself back into his room, completely exhausted. The manor was so huge and it took so long to do a thorough search. Draco collapsed onto his bed, his eyes shutting. Tomorrow is Christmas, he thought sleepily and he fell into a deep sleep.
~ ~ ~
On Christmas afternoon, Draco awoke to a bright beam of sunshine streaming in through his window. He hadn't had the energy to close his drapes, so the sunlight was in full force. Draco mumbled something unintelligible and rolled himself out of his bed, falling onto the floor. "Bloody hell," he cursed softly, his face smushed against the hard wood floor. He picked himself up, rubbing his face. "Wouldn't Potter have loved to see that," he grumbled, standing.
He walked over to his closet and searched through the clothes. The previous day's clothes had already been cleaned and hung back up. His Quidditch gear, he assumed, was back in the trunk. Draco picked out a dark green robe, black turtleneck, and black pants, and got dressed. He pulled on the black dragon-hide boots that he had received for his birthday and headed downstairs.
The smell of pies and food wafted through the high-arched corridors, making Draco smile. He walked into the large living room with its high-arched ceilings, tapestries and bookshelves filling the walls, and two huge couches near the fireplace. He looked over at the huge Christmas tree and the presents underneath them. His mother sat in a chair next to the tree and stood when he entered.
"Happy Christmas, Draco," she said, smiling. She walked up to him, giving him a hug.
Draco stepped back, looking at his mother. He smiled. "Happy Christmas, Mother." Draco looked around. "Where's Father?"
"He's at the Ministry."
"On Christmas?" Draco asked, raising his eyebrows.
Narcissa sighed. "You know how important your father's work is. He'll be back as soon as he can; the Aurors will be with him. But, meanwhile," she said, giving him a small smile, "why don't we go ahead and open your presents."
Draco smiled slightly. "Sure." Why can't father be here on Christmas? I've never had a Christmas with him; he's always gone. Once I'm back at Hogwarts, I won't see him again. He's always so busy with work and when he is home, it seems like he acts like I don't exist, except where it concerns him. It's like he doesn't want to acknowledge that I'm his son, but he knows that he has to, so he does, reluctantly. Am I that poor of a son that he doesn't want me? Draco pushed away the thoughts and walked over to the tree, where his mother was now kneeling.
She handed him a large box. "This is from your father and me."
Draco sat down and took the box. He ripped off the paper and opened the box. Inside were two rich-looking royal blue and dark green cloaks, a black silk shirt, a pair of green silk pajamas, a pair of dragon-hide boots (this time dark green), two pairs of black pants, and a dark green and silver sweater.
Draco smiled. "Thanks, Mother. It's perfect."
Narcissa smiled. "Good, I had hoped you would like it. I know you always need more clothes, the way you are growing."
Draco chuckled. "As always, Mother, you are right."
He set the box down as Narcissa handed him another. "This is from your grandparents."
Draco nodded, opening the small box. Inside was an ornately carved black box with his name in-scripted in gold on the cover. There was also an indentation of a handprint on the cover. He pulled it out of the box it had come in and turned it over in his hands. It was about a foot in length and half a foot wide and deep. "What is this?" he asked.
"It's a box where you can place all your most treasured and secret items. Once you place your hand on the one on the cover, it will be linked to you; meaning that only you can open the box."
"Brilliant," Draco said, smiling. "They always seem to know exactly what I want, without even me realizing it."
He opened a few more boxes containing more clothes. Once he was finished, he gathered the wrapping paper in one pile and it disappeared. He was collecting his presents when his father strode in, following by four men in various colors of cloaks. Draco stood, making his face expressionless.
"Hello, Father. Happy Christmas," Draco said, smiling.
His father gave him a curt nod. "Draco, the Aurors are going to search the manor and while they are doing this, I would prefer if you stayed in your room and out of the way."
"Yes, Father," Draco said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Why is he always shutting me away? He can't even say Happy Christmas! He picked up his things.
"Narcissa -"
"I know, Lucius," she said, interrupting him. She rose, gracefully, and left the room. Draco walked by the Aurors, glancing up at them as he passed. He though they looked like an unhappy bunch. He walked up the staircase. Another Christmas by myself. Well, at least I got to spend a little time with my mother. Draco sighed. At least at Hogwarts there were other kids and I could busy myself with them. But, I do like being at home, although I hardly see my parents. Mother does exactly what Father tells her to do, and most of the time it leaves me on my own. Draco walked into his room and put away his presents, except for the box. He sat down on his bed and placed his hand on it. He heard a clicking noise and the lid popped open. He closed the lid and placed it on his bed. He laid back, looking up at the drapes hanging above him.
I'm always on my own. Sure, I have friends, but it's not as if they can come over here all the time. Father wouldn't allow it. I know it may seem like I have everything but in truth, that's not how it is. I would give anything to have a father that was always around and would never be disappointed. And as much as I despise the Weasleys, I have to admit, they are a very close family. If my family was like that, life would be perfect, but of course, nothing is as ever as you wish it to be. Life won't allow it. I know I come across as a selfish, arrogant, snobby rich- kid, but it's all a lie. It's my barrier to protect myself from the world around me. My father has pounded his ideas of what a Malfoy should act like into my brain so much I don't think it'll ever leave. I would love to be like Potter and not have to worry about what my father thinks all the time. Every single move my father watches, and I feel like I can't put a toe out of line, or there would be serious consequences. I just hate being forced into someone that I'm not, but I suppose I'll never be able to change that. I am a Malfoy and I will always be a Malfoy; that will never change.
And although I might try to be my own person, I will always be in my father's shadow, no matter how hard I try to move out from it. I admire my father deeply and I do want to be like him, but is the pain of disappointment worth it? I don't want to hurt him, yet I don't think I'll ever be the son he really wants. I know that I'm weak and not very bright, but I try, I really do. And then people like Granger just waltz along and steal all that I've worked so hard to accomplish. I just don't see how she does it. And the part that angers me the most is that she's a Mudblood. And then there's Weasley. He has life a lot better than I think he gives himself credit for. Of course, he is always giving me dirty looks and saying nasty remarks either about me or my house. So, obviously, I'm going to be defensive and I'm going to be nasty right back to him. The laughable part is, in a way, I don't want to be nasty to him, it's just what my father wishes, and so it is done, regardless of what I think. He has given me strict guidelines in which I am to follow, and that means despising Weasleys and Mudbloods. And then, there's Potter, who in fact, has everything. I don't think he realizes how lucky he really is. Sure, he doesn't have parents and he lives with Muggles, but he's a very talented wizard, brighter than I'll ever be, and a superb Quidditch player, and he doesn't even try! And the professors adore him. Saint Potter, that's what he is. Potter can do no wrong. We should all be like Potter! It disgusts me! Nobody ever sees the rest of us because we're all in Potter's shadow. I know I shouldn't get so angry and jealous, but I just can't help it.
Draco heard a 'POP!' and looked over to see that a table had appeared in his room. On it was a plate of food, a dish of desert, and a goblet of pumpkin juice. Draco sighed and got off of his bed. He pulled a chair over to the table and sat down. He began eating his pork chops, cutting small bites and putting them in his mouth.
They probably had a brilliant Christmas. Draco thought bitterly as he ate his dinner in silence. At least they had a Christmas Feast with other people. What a picture I make, eating all by myself. Potter and Weasley would get a dozen laughs if they saw me now.
~ ~ ~
After the Aurors left, the rest of the holiday flew by rather quickly, and for that Draco was glad. He occupied himself by doing his homework, which at least took his thoughts away from being alone.
Soon, Draco was on his way back to Hogwarts, sitting across from Crabbe and Goyle on the train, watching them as they stuffed themselves on sweets. Draco just sighed and looked out the window, watching as the scenery flew by.