* * *
Draco Malfoy muttered darkly as he sat on his bed and pulled his gray Hogwarts sweater over his head. He strode quickly across his room to his mirror, his bare feet flying swiftly over the cold floor. As he picked up his green and gray striped tie and adjusted it accordingly, he made a face at his reflection.
"Why am I not happier?" he said out loud as he combed his sunshine locks, "I mean, I get to go back to school for another whole year! Back to insane teachers and mountains of homework," he finished sarcastically.
As he finished slicking a final strand of hair into place, a new wave of impatience washed over him.
"A school full of incompetent little prats who think they're better than everyone else just because they defeated a wizard by accident when they were too young to even remember doing it," Draco growled with gritted teeth, growing angrier by the minute.
He wasn't looking forward to spending yet another year with Potter. In Dracos opinion, being force fed poison was better than having to see that dumb face with that stupid scar every day. Maybe even throw a few Cockroach Clusters in with the poison, and then it would still be better than Harry Potter.
Draco glanced at the silver clock on his wall as he reached under his bed for his socks and shoes. Seeing that it was near time to leave he quickened his pace, knowing that his father hated to be late for anything.
Remembering that his trunks containing all his school supplies and his broomstick were downstairs already, Draco grabbed a black cloak from a hook by his door and swept down the marble staircase that led to the entry way.
As he descended the mountainous steps, his reflection in the mirrors that encrusted the surrounding walls followed him. Draco rolled his eyes at all the glass panels, and twenty Dracos rolled their eyes with him. Draco never thought that all the mirrors that adorned the Malfoy Manor were necessary, but he had never argued the fact with his father. Lucius just said they were for effect, and that they saved some wall space from being bedecked with the hideous paintings that Narcissa liked to decorate with. But Draco doubted that this was the whole truth. More than once he had caught his father walking down a mirrored hallway, head held high, admiring the effect of his flowing cloaks in multiple reflections. Sometimes, Lucius would even descend a staircase in this manner; only to reach the bottom, then go back up just to float down again when he thought no one was looking.
Draco laughed outright as the memory of his fathers out of character antics hit him full force. He stuck his chin into the air and reached both arms behind him, spreading his black cloak out like a bats wings. And strutting like a proud hen, he began to flounce down the stairs in a manner of imitation.
He grinned wickedly as he gazed at his reflection adoringly as he had seen his father do on so many occasions. He was midway through a sweeping twirl when a surprised voice cut sharply through the house, seeming to reverberate off the mirrors.
"Draco? What in the name of Merlin's Beard are you doing?"
Draco halted a look of horror on his face. Lucius Malfoy was standing at the base of the stairs, eyebrows raised, a slightly amused smile curling his lips. His midnight black robes were edged in emerald green, his crisp blonde hair tied back with a black satin ribbon.
"I do believe that you have to be getting on the school train very shortly," Lucius said coolly, looking up at his son, "And I wasn't aware they started teaching you ballet at Hogwarts. New class program I assume?" he finished calmly.
Draco felt shame creep into his expression as he rushed to stand next to his father.
"Er, no Father. I'm sorry about the delay," Draco stammered quickly, "Shall we get a move on?"
As Draco hurried out the huge oak doors and onto the front porch where his trunks were waiting he heard his father's exasperated mutter from behind him.
"I knew we should have sent him to Durmstrang. Next thing you know he will be singing opera while he bathes."
Draco sighed and tried to remember that at Hogwarts there would at least be no Lucius Malfoy to deal with. Not that he didn't love and respect his father, he just got tired of Lucius's rare gift of making anyone who spoke to him want to gouge his eyes out with their wand.
Lucius stepped onto the porch next to his son as soon as a slight breeze began to lift the hems of their cloaks.
"Draco, I do not want to receive any owls this year from your school," Lucius said, adjusting the sleeves of his elegant cloak, "I have better things to do than read letter after letter from that twit of a Headmaster about your bad behavior."
"Yes, Father," Draco said automatically.
"If you insist on breaking the rules, don't do it publicly under the teachers prying eyes," Lucius said with command.
"Yes, Father," Draco said again, getting impatient.
"Very good," Lucius said briskly, "We'd best be off. Come, Draco, hands on your trunk. I would like to be out of here before your mother comes home and begins carrying on about her baby leaving for a whole year." He reached down himself and grabbed a handle on his son's caged eagle owl. "You would think the woman would be used to it by now," Lucius muttered to himself, "The boy has been going to the same school for six years."
Draco struggled to keep a smirk from adorning his face. He never got tired of his parents unusual relationship. They loved each other very much, but they preferred not to show it too blatantly in public. Apparently, Draco thought, even he was considered to be public.
Still, the memory of his father telling Narcissa that he needed her to go to Hogsmeade to pick up some more Butterbeer for a party at the Manor right away was rather comical. Especially since Lucius had no intention of throwing a party anytime in the near future.
"All right Draco, let's get to it, we have about eight minutes before the train leaves," Lucius remarked. And the next thing Draco knew, his father had disapparated.
Draco made sure he had a firm hold on his two trunks, and then turned his head to see behind him for a last look at his house. The Malfoy Manor stood tall and regally upon it's hill, casting a long shadow over everything in front of it. To Draco, it had always seemed very ominous and threatening for something as essential as a house, but he knew his father liked it that way.
"Well, I'm off," Draco said no to no one in particular, and being very careful to picture his destination clearly, he disapparated, off to start another school year.
When Draco reappeared next to the barrier that led to Platform 9 and ¾, his father was nowhere in sight. Draco figured that he had just gone through the barrier to the platform without waiting for him, unwilling to spend even a few moments surrounded by Muggles.
Draco looked around. The big clock hanging on the wall read 10:53. He checked to make sure no one was watching, then slumped halfheartedly through the barrier. He didn't even bother to put his trunks onto a trolley, they weren't all that heavy considering the fact that they contained all his regular school supplies, not to mention his Quidditch gear and Nimbus 2001.
Suddenly, Draco was standing inside Platform 9 and ¾, beholding the usual hustle and bustle of students running back and forth, yelling greetings to their friends, loading their luggage onto the train and saying goodbye to their parents. And in the midst of all the chaos, the great scarlet Hogwarts Express stood humming steadily, reading itself for the long journey ahead.
"Draco! Over here!" Draco heard his fathers call and dragged his trunks over to him. Lucius was standing by a sliding luggage compartment door on the side of the train. Draco let his father stack his eagle owl on top of the many trunks that were already in the storage space before loading his own two trunks. Then Draco straightened up and faced his father.
"Well Draco, off to your last year at Hogwarts," Lucius said formally. Then he lowered his voice to a whisper, "Then maybe you will finally take your place in the family business…"
"Father," Draco shouted, looking around wildly, then spoke in a hushed voice, "We've talked about this before, please, not right here, there are too many people around.
Lucius looked at the pleading look on his sons face.
"I am sick of your delay, Draco," he said viciously, prodding Draco rather harder than necessary in the chest with his silver-topped cane, "You could have joined us when you were sixteen! But I put up with your idiotic excuse that you wanted to finish school without any distraction. I even let you get away with calling what I do a "distraction"!"
Draco sighed and let his shoulders slump, tired of playing this game with his father. It was like a continuous cat and mouse game between them, only Draco knew that in the end the Cat that was his father would trap the mouse into a corner, leaving the mouse no choice but to contend with the will of the cat. Either that or be chewed up and spit out like bad meat.
"Father, I just need some time to think about it, that's all," Draco protested desperately.
"Think about it?" Lucius hissed, growing extremely red in the face, "What is there to think about boy? It is your destiny as a Malfoy."
"Is it?" Draco asked, shaking his head unbelievably. Lucius grabbed the collar of Draco's robes forcefully and spoke directly into his face.
"You had better watch what you say, Draco," Lucius growled venomously, eyes narrowed, "Or else you might find yourself in a very sticky situation. I will see you next year."
Lucius shoved himself away as he released his hold on Dracos collar. Then he straightened up, brushed his hands on his cloak and sauntered away from his son, chin held stubbornly high.
Draco watched his retreating back, sadness and anger coursing through him in equal amounts. Finally, he turned and slammed the full storage compartment door shut with so much force that the owls inside shrieked in their cages and a passing group of nervous first years jumped three feet into the air. Dracos bad mood was elevated to a new level.
"Out of the way," he snarled as he pushed his way in between two of the new students. They parted and let him go by, identical expressions of terror on their faces.
Draco stalked around near the back of the train, hoping to find Crabbe and Goyle somewhere. He could do well with a conversation with the two of them. Actually, Draco wouldn't really call it conversation, since he did all of the talking and Crabbe and Goyle just nodded in agreement to whatever he said, but still, it was comforting. He could tell them anything and they would always make him feel like he was right, then they would forget everything the next day.
Sure enough, Draco found the two huge boys standing outside a compartment door near the end of the train stuffing their faces full of chocolate frogs.
"Hello boys," Draco said, adopting the authority facade he always wore around them, "How goes it?"
Crabbe and Goyle both grunted, neither having the ability to speak due to their massive chocolate intake.
"You will not believe what a bad morning I had," Draco began, but was distracted by a loud yell, followed by the sound of uproarious laughter.
"What the…" Draco said, looking around and trying to find the source of the commotion. "Come on," he said, beckoning to Crabbe and Goyle who followed after scooping up the remainder of their chocolate frogs.
Draco rounded one of the stone columns that stood all over the platform. The source of laughter was coming from behind a column next to a compartment near the middle of the train. Two people were sprawled out on the ground, snickering heartily. Draco caught a flash of bright red hair and a flash of glasses among the rolling pair.
"So, Potter, Weasley," Draco drawled, starting to suddenly feel better, "I see you have finally figured out where you belong. Here, on the ground, not on the train or at the school."
"Pity you can't figure out where you belong, Malfoy," Harry said looking up and spotting his school rival, "But I suppose even you don't have enough money to buy a one-way ticket to Hell."
Draco sneered at Harry, feeling his enmity towards him blossom as it always did when he came into contact with him.
"But I suppose you're used to the ground, Weasley," Draco shot at Ron steely, "With that run down shack of yours and that low class wizard fool you have for a father, you must feel right at home."
To Draco's surprise, Ron didn't retaliate, on the contrary he grew very pale and quiet and his head fell.
Harry glanced at Ron, pity in his eyes, then quickly rose and pulled Draco by the arm to the other side of the pillar.
"Didn't you hear, Malfoy?" Harry hissed, looking at Draco in disbelief.
"Hear about what?" Draco asked, confused, pulling his arm stubbornly away from Harry.
"Rons dad died this summer, Malfoy," Harry said softly.
Dracos eyes widened in shock, his mouth fell open.
"Yeah," Harry said, looking at Draco in disgust, "He's having a really hard time, so don't be such a jerk for once in your life."
"If he's so sad, why were the two of you laughing your heads off about five seconds ago?" said an irritated Draco.
"We were just having fun, Malfoy," Harry said, shaking his head, a sad sort of expression on his face, "It helps Ron to take his mind off…off…"
"Yeah," Draco said, nodding and looking over at Ron, "All right."
"Now go and say you're sorry to him," Harry said directly.
Dracos head snapped back to Harry. "What? You have got to be kidding me. I am not apologizing to Weasley."
"Well, you'd better, unless you want to be spitting slugs the whole ride to Hogwarts," Harry said with raised eyebrows, his wand suddenly out of his pocket and pointing straight at Draco.
Draco shot Harry a nasty look and reluctantly stalked over to where Ron was still sitting.
"Sorry, Weasley," he said shortly. Ron looked up, his wide eyes very bright as he stared into Dracos face.
"Yeah, ok," he croaked, his voice cracking.
"Happy now, Potter?" Draco growled as he passed Harry on his way to find a compartment.
"Actually, yes," Harry said, grinning, "You are all too thoughtful, Draco."
"Can it, Potter," Draco snapped, reaching for the nearest compartment door handle. Crabbe and Goyle, who had resumed eating their Chocolate Frogs, quickly, followed Draco to the train door. Draco pulled it open in a rage and was promptly sprayed with a thick liquid that smelled like rotten eggs.
"Bloody Hell!" Draco bellowed, wiping the substance from his eyes.
From behind him he heard a whoop of laughter. Draco turned around, extremely aware of how red his face must be.
"I suppose this is your doing," he growled fiercely as he saw that Harry and Ron were once again laughing, Harry leaning on the pillar for support.
"You wanted to know why we were laughing before, Malfoy, now you know!" Ron said, suddenly more cheery, in between fits of laughter.
"Oh, now you laugh, Weasley," Draco said, looking disgusted, "Enjoy it while you can, you and your stupid practical joke."
"Ah, but Mr. Malfoy," Harry chided, "It is not a stupid joke, in fact, we like to think of it as a brilliant joke! We rigged the door handle to spray anyone who tried to open it with Gobstone Goo."
"Big deal," Draco muttered, "You're still an annoying little git."
"And you, Mr. Malfoy, are victim number twenty-four of our "stupid" practical joke," Ron said calmly, a wicked glint in his eye and a slight grin on his face.
Draco threw them both a detesting look and grabbed a handful of Goyle's robes which he used to wipe his face off. Goyle didn't even notice. Draco shook his head, pathetic. There was no way Crabbe and Goyle could ever be the sort of friends like Potter and Weasley. They would never have the brains to pull off a trap that could fool twenty-four people, not to mention the fact that they probably couldn't even count to twenty-four.
He decided not to pursue any more Potter-Weasley verbal battles and began to walk off. After all, there was plenty of time for that at the school; they would be stuck there for another year after all.
Draco started to turn and tell Crabbe and Goyle to pay attention and follow him, but as he opened his mouth he decided not to say anything after all. He wasn't really in the mood to watch them fill their decidedly large stomachs with sweets. Besides, it would be amusing to see if they actually remembered to get on the train without being told.
As Draco stalked down the aisle, trying to find an empty compartment he pushed aside a group of second year Hufflepuffs that were standing right in the middle of the hall. They gazed up into his cold eyes then down at the Slytherin crest embroidered on his robes. And, with one good sneer from the mighty Slytherin's lips, they scampered down the aisle, looking over their shoulders with wide eyes.
Draco smirked, satisfied. He still had the gift of striking fear into all the little kiddies' hearts. Now if only it would work on the infamous Potter…
Draco gazed into the window of an empty compartment, then pushed the sliding door open and stood in the threshold. He was about to sit down when something in the corner stirred, and Draco gave a yell.
Someone was already in the compartment, curled up in the corner reading a book. Their figure was so hunched and small that he hadn't even noticed them! But that tumble of firey locks could only mean one thing…
"Weasley," Draco stated, casually leaning against the wall.
Ginny looked up from her book, a blank expression on her face. Draco found himself to be a bit startled; she wasn't the same Ginny he remembered from her previous years at Hogwarts. That Ginny had always been a little girl, shy, rather mousy and squeaky. But the girl in front of him had grown, well, he wasn't too sure how she had grown really. There wasn't a drastic change in her appearance, but her face…her face was different. It looked almost colder than it had before, her eyes very distant and aloof, as if over the summer she had gained five years on her sixteen year old self.
"Draco," Ginny said calmly, addressing him then fixing her eyes to the pages of her book once more.
Draco didn't say anything. For the first time in his life he did not have anything to say to a Weasley. There was something very wrong with Ginny, and he didn't know if he wanted to find out what it was.
As he continued to stand there, Ginny looked up once more, impatience etched all over her face.
"Did you want something?" she asked coolly, eyebrows raised.
"Erm, no," Draco said, startled by her sudden question, "I was just looking for someplace to sit, that's all."
"Then why are you still standing?" she asked, rolling her eyes.
"Can I ask you a question?" Draco said, forehead scrunched up in confusion.
"If you must," Ginny sighed as she turned a page.
"Are you feeling all right?" he said directly.
Ginny looked up, her brown eyes suddenly very dark.
"Can I ask you a question, Draco?" she asked innocently.
"Sure," Draco replied as a grin overtook his face.
"What is wrong with you?!" Ginny screeched, throwing her book down and shooting up to face him. Draco took a step backwards as she advanced on him. She had gotten taller, he noticed.
"I had a very rough summer, Draco!" she yelled, her red hair quivering as she shook with rage, "And I do not appreciate you coming in and making it worse!"
"Look, I'm sorry about your Dad," Draco said quickly, "I know it must feel awful-"
"No, no! No, you don't know how it feels!" Ginny said more quietly, some tears beginning to gather at the corner of her eyes, "No body knows how it feels…" she trailed off.
"What? Haven't you talked to your brothers and mother?" Draco asked her, quite disturbed by her actions.
"Even they don't know everything," Ginny said in a low voice, turning and gazing out the window."
Openly confused, Draco decided not to keep the subject going. Instead, he stooped and grabbed Ginny's book from the floor and looked at the cover.
"Ah, Hogwarts: A History," he said, handing it back to her as she turned back around, "Have you gotten to the part about where they imported the Giant Squid from that town in Scotland?"
Ginny wiped her eyes on her sleeve and looked at him in alarm. "You've read it?" she asked, her head tilted wonderingly.
Draco gave a low chuckle. "You wouldn't believe how boring it can get in that big old house of mine during the summer," Draco explained.
"Well, I sure would love to try it sometime!" Ginny said, her face breaking out into the first smile he had seen from her so far, "I wouldn't mind a couple hundred servents waiting on me hand and foot!"
"Actually, we only have about fifty," Draco said, grinning, but that was my count at least three months ago. Who knows how many more have been hired since then!"
Ginny laughed, her eyes sparkling, Draco laughed too, happy that he made her smile.
Wait, did he really just think that? Draco stopped laughing abruptly; and Ginny stopped too, identical expressions of surprise on their faces. Draco shook himself mentally. Was he going soft? Or was he only being nice to her since her father had just passed away? He certainly hoped the latter was the case, or he might have to admit himself to St. Mungo's in the matter of a few days.
"Well, I'll be getting along now," Draco said awkwardly, glancing at Ginny out of the corner of his eye.
"You won't be staying, you mean?" she asked, sitting down again.
"Erm, no," Draco said, moving closer to the door.
"But I thought, well, now that we're both…oh nevermind," Ginny sighed, watching him, her cheeks turning slightly pink, "I suppose you still don't want to be seen with a Weasley."
"Exactly," Draco said shortly, turning and shutting the compartment door after him.
"Even though we're probably more alike than you think," Ginny whispered into the silence.