CHAPTER TWO: Draco's Outburst
Ron Weasley was lying on the couch at The Burrow, laughing to himself. But not with his usual laugh. This laugh was strange...malicious even. It was...not Ron. No one noticed these changes. Even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to realize anything was wrong with their son. But there was, and boy, there was a damn lot.
ON THE HOGWARTS TRAIN...
He was thinking. He did this a lot, no matter what that snarky git PottHead thought. Actually, he probably had the best marks last year, underneath that blasted Mudblood Granger. But he did think, yes, he did that. He thought of Ron Weasley. How could he tell Potter about Weasley? He didn't want to help the pansy, but he knew that he'd have a much less guilty conscience if he did. Yes, he would tell Harry. Wait...did he call him Harry? Whatever. He turned to look at himself in the mirror. Yep. Same pale blonde hair, same cold gray eyes, same drawling smirk. Yes, he was still Draco Malfoy, no matter how much he wished he wasn't.
The scene that came later shocked Harry. He'd never expect this out of Ron, and he definitely didn't expect this out of Draco Malfoy. Okay. Here are the facts:
Harry was sitting in a compartment with his best friends Hermione and Ron. Well, now Hermione was his girlfriend, but yeah. Anyhow, Harry was just sitting there when their compartment door burst open.
"Weasley, you better get out of this compartment NOW!!" Malfoy shouted. Harry was stunned, but Ron was not at all.
"You get out you ferret-faced prat!" Ron retorted.
Hermione and Harry were shocked into a silence. Hermione suddenly grabbed Harry's arm and he struggled to get free; she had a death grip. "I knew this would happen! I told you about Ron, didn't I? Didn't I?!" Hermione whispered loudly into Harry's ear. Harry nodded. He remembered.
"You squirmy little weasel, I told you. Don't mess with him anymore. I should tell him about your little 'escapades' right now!!" Draco shouted, his face turning a vibrant color of purple. Ron, for one, looked quite fearful.
"You wouldn't," He hissed.
Draco smirked. "Oh, I would."
Ron stood up suddenly and ran out of the compartment. Harry turned to look at Draco in amazement.
"Wha...? What just happened there? Did you just...shoo my best friend out of this compartment?" Harry asked, quite bewildered.
"Uh. Yeah, I guess I did. You don't need that little wanker hanging around here, anyhow. I know things about him that could make you never want to speak to that WORTHLESS git again," Draco smiled slowly at Harry's reaction to this. How interesting it was to see those green eyes flash angrily. They had a sort of...spark. Intriguing, really.
"You will NOT speak of my BEST FRIEND that way, you...you....BISCUIT!" Harry shouted angrily. Hermione snickered softly at the insult that Harry used. Biscuit? What kind of person calls someone a biscuit? Harry, apparently. Ah, well. Draco obviously took offense to it, so all was well.
"How dare you call me a biscuit, you sodding prat!" Malfoy shouted, his gray eyes sparking dangerously. Harry sniggered, his black hair falling into his eyes as he doubled up with laughter. Draco was beside himself in anger.
"You wanna know something, Potter? You wanna know why I'm telling you about Weasley? It's strange, but I don't want to see him hurt you. And know why he'd hurt you if you spent any more time in his insufferable presence? Because, Ron Weasley has joined forces with Lord VOLDEMORT!" Draco bellowed. Then he clamped a hand over his mouth. How could he tell Harry like that, out of anger? Now Harry would never believe him.
Harry just stood in shock. He stared at Draco, his emerald eyes blank. How could this be? No, he was lying. But why...why, why, why??? Why did things match up so perfectly with Malfoy's explanation?! No, this isn't right. This isn't real. This was a lie, a lie, a lie... Yes, it was. He wouldn't believe it. Ron Weasley was his best friend. No, no, no. It's a lie. It's a lie. It's just—
"Lies. All of it. It's a lie. Get out of here and never come back. I would take Ron Weasley over you any day. I'm touched, but get the fuck out of here, anyhow. I don't need you insulting my best friend to my face! I thought you got the hint when we first met. It's simple; I DON'T LIKE YOU, I don't want you as my friend, and I don't want you ANYWHERE NEAR ME!!!" Harry was close to tears. Mainly because the reason he was saying this was to convince himself that what Malfoy was saying wasn't true.
Draco whimpered. How could he have let himself yell at Potter like that? Now Hogwarts would fall apart, and it'd be all of his fault. He wiped at his eyes, and said goodbye to Hogwarts. Voldemort would win. He'd win. And he could already imagine his father standing over him again. "See, you disappointing child?" He'd say. "I told you, did I not? I told you Lord Voldemort would win in the end. And he did. And now I'll show you what I do to sons who BETRAY ME!!" And he'd beat Draco, worse than he had done every day of Draco's life. He'd kill him. He knew it, he knew it. Draco cried out, fell down, and curled into the fetal position. Nothing was right, everything was falling apart...
Ron Weasley was lying on the couch at The Burrow, laughing to himself. But not with his usual laugh. This laugh was strange...malicious even. It was...not Ron. No one noticed these changes. Even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to realize anything was wrong with their son. But there was, and boy, there was a damn lot.
ON THE HOGWARTS TRAIN...
He was thinking. He did this a lot, no matter what that snarky git PottHead thought. Actually, he probably had the best marks last year, underneath that blasted Mudblood Granger. But he did think, yes, he did that. He thought of Ron Weasley. How could he tell Potter about Weasley? He didn't want to help the pansy, but he knew that he'd have a much less guilty conscience if he did. Yes, he would tell Harry. Wait...did he call him Harry? Whatever. He turned to look at himself in the mirror. Yep. Same pale blonde hair, same cold gray eyes, same drawling smirk. Yes, he was still Draco Malfoy, no matter how much he wished he wasn't.
The scene that came later shocked Harry. He'd never expect this out of Ron, and he definitely didn't expect this out of Draco Malfoy. Okay. Here are the facts:
Harry was sitting in a compartment with his best friends Hermione and Ron. Well, now Hermione was his girlfriend, but yeah. Anyhow, Harry was just sitting there when their compartment door burst open.
"Weasley, you better get out of this compartment NOW!!" Malfoy shouted. Harry was stunned, but Ron was not at all.
"You get out you ferret-faced prat!" Ron retorted.
Hermione and Harry were shocked into a silence. Hermione suddenly grabbed Harry's arm and he struggled to get free; she had a death grip. "I knew this would happen! I told you about Ron, didn't I? Didn't I?!" Hermione whispered loudly into Harry's ear. Harry nodded. He remembered.
"You squirmy little weasel, I told you. Don't mess with him anymore. I should tell him about your little 'escapades' right now!!" Draco shouted, his face turning a vibrant color of purple. Ron, for one, looked quite fearful.
"You wouldn't," He hissed.
Draco smirked. "Oh, I would."
Ron stood up suddenly and ran out of the compartment. Harry turned to look at Draco in amazement.
"Wha...? What just happened there? Did you just...shoo my best friend out of this compartment?" Harry asked, quite bewildered.
"Uh. Yeah, I guess I did. You don't need that little wanker hanging around here, anyhow. I know things about him that could make you never want to speak to that WORTHLESS git again," Draco smiled slowly at Harry's reaction to this. How interesting it was to see those green eyes flash angrily. They had a sort of...spark. Intriguing, really.
"You will NOT speak of my BEST FRIEND that way, you...you....BISCUIT!" Harry shouted angrily. Hermione snickered softly at the insult that Harry used. Biscuit? What kind of person calls someone a biscuit? Harry, apparently. Ah, well. Draco obviously took offense to it, so all was well.
"How dare you call me a biscuit, you sodding prat!" Malfoy shouted, his gray eyes sparking dangerously. Harry sniggered, his black hair falling into his eyes as he doubled up with laughter. Draco was beside himself in anger.
"You wanna know something, Potter? You wanna know why I'm telling you about Weasley? It's strange, but I don't want to see him hurt you. And know why he'd hurt you if you spent any more time in his insufferable presence? Because, Ron Weasley has joined forces with Lord VOLDEMORT!" Draco bellowed. Then he clamped a hand over his mouth. How could he tell Harry like that, out of anger? Now Harry would never believe him.
Harry just stood in shock. He stared at Draco, his emerald eyes blank. How could this be? No, he was lying. But why...why, why, why??? Why did things match up so perfectly with Malfoy's explanation?! No, this isn't right. This isn't real. This was a lie, a lie, a lie... Yes, it was. He wouldn't believe it. Ron Weasley was his best friend. No, no, no. It's a lie. It's a lie. It's just—
"Lies. All of it. It's a lie. Get out of here and never come back. I would take Ron Weasley over you any day. I'm touched, but get the fuck out of here, anyhow. I don't need you insulting my best friend to my face! I thought you got the hint when we first met. It's simple; I DON'T LIKE YOU, I don't want you as my friend, and I don't want you ANYWHERE NEAR ME!!!" Harry was close to tears. Mainly because the reason he was saying this was to convince himself that what Malfoy was saying wasn't true.
Draco whimpered. How could he have let himself yell at Potter like that? Now Hogwarts would fall apart, and it'd be all of his fault. He wiped at his eyes, and said goodbye to Hogwarts. Voldemort would win. He'd win. And he could already imagine his father standing over him again. "See, you disappointing child?" He'd say. "I told you, did I not? I told you Lord Voldemort would win in the end. And he did. And now I'll show you what I do to sons who BETRAY ME!!" And he'd beat Draco, worse than he had done every day of Draco's life. He'd kill him. He knew it, he knew it. Draco cried out, fell down, and curled into the fetal position. Nothing was right, everything was falling apart...