Ditto from chapter three, and I still don't own anything!!!
By the time Draco finally fell asleep, it was at least five in the morning, since he hadn't even begun to pack his new things (and his old things) in his trunk. It seemed like his grateful slumber was interrupted after merely minutes.
"Draco!" his mother called shrilly. "Come get some breakfast, dear!" He just moaned and rolled onto his side, not even bothering to open his eyes. Just a few more minutes….
But he was too hungry. He had gone to bed without eating, even though he was hungry. He had simply been too tired to do anything but collapse upon his bed. Opening his eyes took some real effort; each lid felt as if it weighed about a ton. He stood up fast, so as not to prolong his agony, put on his green bathrobe, and walked slowly downstairs and into the large kitchen.
The cook, Amelia, was cleaning up what appeared to be pancake batter. Upon seeing him, she dropped her rag on the red marble counter and curtsied.
"Good morning, young Master Malfoy," she said. "Your pancakes are on the table."
"Thank you, Amelia," Draco said quietly, before sitting down at the large wooden kitchen table that was much too big for only the two of them. It was covered in a black satin tablecloth, the food on dishes of pure silver.
"We're leaving for the train in an hour, Draco dear, ok?" Mother said.
"Yes, ma'am," he said, taking a large gulp of orange juice.
He seemed to be in a different world during breakfast. He didn't hear a word his mother said, merely nodding or saying "yeah" every few seconds. He left the table quickly to dress and get ready.
He slept on the way to King's Cross, barely felt his mother's too-proper hug and kiss, and could hardly recall getting his stuff on the train. He wandered into the Prefect's compartment, only to run into someone—literally.
"Sorry," he mumbled, not even realizing who it was until she spoke.
"Did you just apologize to me, Malfoy?" Granger's voice was full of mock surprise. He turned around and sighed.
"Ya know, Granger, I'm too tired to even be able to come up with a comment for that so I suppose that yes, I apologized to you."
"You look awful," she said. He raised an eyebrow.
"Thanks…."
"No! That's not what I meant," she said quickly, blushing. "I just meant…."
"It doesn't matter, Granger," Draco sighed, leaving her to sit by himself in a corner, absolutely exhausted.
The Prefect compartment was large and decorated very brightly. The walls were a purplish pink, the carpet turquoise, everything else was gold. There was an orange table piled with sweets and drinks, around which students were chatting with their friends.
Draco had just been drifting off in one of the lime green seats, when a high voice woke him abruptly.
"What's wrong, Draco?" Pansy asked, sitting beside him and tousling his blond hair. It didn't do much, however; he had gelled his spikes to a veritable plastic.
"'M tired," he mumbled. "I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."
"What were you doing?" she asked. Draco gave the most mischievous smirk he could muster.
"That's my business," he said, raising his eyebrows. She gasped, grinning. He knew exactly what she was thinking he did last night, and that was precisely what he wanted her to think. "Now let me sleep." He leaned his head against the wall and shut his eyes again. Pansy gave an exasperated sigh, making it apparent that she wanted the non-existent details, but when he didn't stir, she left him.
He was running as fast as he could through a forest that was thick with trees. He was trying to stick to the path, but hands were pushing him off it. He tripped and the hands rolled him into the unpathed woods and then off a cliff. He was falling, screaming….
"Draco! Draco, get up!" It was Pansy again.
"What do you want?" he asked in irritation. "I thought I told you to let me sleep."
"But we're going to be there in about two minutes and you still aren't even in your robes!"
"What?" he said stupidly, checking his watch. "Holy shit!" he yelled.
"Language, Malfoy!" someone said, but he paid them no mind. He slipped off into one of the Prefect dressing rooms off the compartment and changed as the train slowed. As it came to a halt, he was just fastening the last button of his cloak.
"Nice timing," he said to himself, running to the train exits to show the other students off.
And so he sat at the feast, sneering at the new Slytherins. He couldn't ever remember being that small, least of all while he was at Hogwarts.
"So Greg, what you do this summer?" Draco asked his friend, Gregory Goyle, who was shoving food into his mouth in enormous quantities.
"Nothin'," he replied stupidly. A few girls said "Eww!!!" at the sight of his half-chewed food.
Draco shook his head. Why did he even bother asking?
"Hey, kid," he said to a first year a few seats down from him. "Um, midget with the black hair!" The kid turned around and looked at him, saying nothing. "Kid, what's your name?"
"Bobby," he said.
"Yeah, Bobby, pass me the pumpkin juice, would ya?" The kid grabbed the pitcher with both hands and passed it to Draco who smirked.
"What's your name?" the kid asked back.
"Draco Malfoy," he replied automatically. The boy gasped.
"Are you related to the Death Eater Malfoy? Who escaped from prison?" he asked in horrified awe. Draco gave him a strange look, a mix of anger and confusion.
"What does that have to do with anything?" The kid just shrugged and went back to his food. Draco's hand absentmindedly went to his left forearm. He looked at Crabbe on one side, to Goyle his other.
"What the hell was that about?" he asked them both. They shrugged. Again, he wondered why he ever bothered asking.
"Hey, quit throwing food, or I'm giving you detention," Draco called down the table at a third year named Alex Monk.
Not liking the eerie silence growing between he and his friends, he decided to resort back to an old pastime; Potter.
"So Crabbe, Goyle, we never decided what we're doing to Potter for what he did to my father," he whispered. The two stupid oafs that Draco sadly enough called his best friends looked all excited and leaned in toward him, nearly squashing him with their masses.
"Any ideas?" He could have smacked himself. Could he have asked a dumber question?
"I have an idea!" Crabbe said proudly. Draco just stared at him, unable to believe his ears.
"What is it Crabbe?" he asked slowly.
"We should push him off a cliff!" Draco continued to just stare, though now in awe at his stupidity, rather than the fact that he had come up with an idea.
"That would be great, Crabbe, if it wasn't for the minor detail," He held up his fingers a fraction of and inch apart. "That we don't have a cliff!"
Someone tapped him on the back. He turned in his seat to see Pansy and their friend Carla, a short girl with hair died black and more body piercings than Draco cared to count.
"Come on, we're heading back to the common room," Pansy said quietly. "Leave these idiots; you look ready to kill them both." Draco nodded and made to stand up. However, they were all seated by a look from Snape, saying clearly that Dumbledore was still going to speak to them.
After everyone had had their fill, the contents of the golden plates and goblets disappeared, leaving them perfectly clean.
"If I may have your attention!" the headmaster said. A hush fell over the Great Hall and all eyes fell on Dumbledore; even Draco's for once.
"Welcome back, welcome back." The professor had a tired look about him that Draco had never noticed before. Maybe he's dying, Draco thought with glee. Maybe without him, the Mudbloods would get kicked out….
"As you are all aware, recent events have made safety an important issue. Voldemort's return to power, the escape of Death Eaters from Azkaban," Dumbledore was looking directly at Draco. Draco looked down at the Slytherin table and started playing with the hem of the tablecloth, looking anywhere but at the headmaster now. He noticed several other pairs of eyes on him. "among other things, have made the rules at Hogwarts much more strict and the penalties for breaking those rules far more severe.
"First of all, no one shall enter the Forbidden Forest under any circumstances, including for any class. This is always a rule, but is being much more strictly enforced this year. Second, you shall not leave the castle, even to wander the grounds, without first informing a teacher or other supervisor. The last rule is only for those able to attend Hogsmade trips. I want no less than four people traveling together at all times.
"On a lighter note, Hogwarts shall be hosting another ball this winter, which all ages are permitted to attend. Why, you may ask? Because in light of the current situation, I think a time for you all to have fun and perhaps form bonds with members of other Houses will be refreshing.
"I also believe an introduction is in order. Professor Delecour will be taking the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and will also take on the Theory of Spell Creation classes." Dumbledore indicated a woman at the staff table with silvery blond hair and pale pink robes.
The applause following her tiny bow and smile and wink was deafening.
And no wonder; she was gorgeous. Draco recognized her as the girl who had been in the Triwizard Tournament two years ago. He felt a squirming in his stomach as he looked at her, mouth open.
"When you're through drooling, we can head up now," Carla said, pulling Draco out of his trance. She and Pansy were behind him again, smirking. He just smirked right back and stood up.
"Damn," he said as they left the Great Hall. 'There is nothing I wouldn't do to get in her robes." The girls giggled and he amused himself with a pleasurable brief mental picture. "Well," He put his arms around the girls. "She's a teacher so I guess you gals will have to do. So who's first?"
"Eww!" they chorused, giggling and throwing his arms off them.
"Your loss… UGH!" All of a sudden, he was flat on the floor.
"Whoops," said a voice from above him. He looked up to see two Ravenclaw boys sneering at him. "Sorry bout that, Death Eater." They walked away, snickering.
What the hell?
Draco pushed himself up off the floor and looked at Pansy. "What the fuck was that about?" As if in answer to his question, he heard another voice, a female by the sound of it, shout "How's your father, Death Eater?" from across the hall.
So that was what it was. His father was a Death Eater and now everyone knew.
He started off at a fast pace, leaving the girls behind. He heard their shouts to wait, but he ignored them. If anything the calls made him go faster.
Whispering as he passed. Sneers. Threatening glares. He felt like everyone was staring at him, their eyes boring into him as though trying to break him into giving his father's or perhaps Voldemort's position, neither of which he knew anyway. Daring him to use black magic. They assumed him to be evil. To be just like him. He wished they'd stop staring.
He had given out three detentions by the time he reached the Slytherin common room. The reasons had been very stupid, but he was very upset at the moment.
He felt a bit better however, upon walking into the stone common room. Beautiful, comfortable green chairs and couches surrounded the large fireplace. Above the mantle, a portrait of Salazar Slytherin hung, glaring down at everyone. He never moved, never spoke. He was rather like a Muggle painting, actually, except his eyes. Everything was lit with torches and candles as tall as any of them, and the flames flickered in both orange and green, depending on their mood.
"Malfoy!" called a voice just as he stared down the hall to the boys' dormitories. He turned to see Lander Cayce, a burly seventh year. "Hey, Malfoy, come 'ere!" Draco turned, robes sweeping, and strode across the room to where Cayce was standing by the fire.
"What?" he snapped, looking daggers at the person who dared to intrude on his thoughts.
"I'm Quiditch captain this year, and we need a two new Chasers and a Beater. You need to come to the tryouts, kay? They're gonna be on Saturday at noon."
"What's today?"
"Tuesday."
Draco nodded. "I'll be there.''
"Ya know," Draco muttered under his breath, starting back down the dark, narrow corridor. "If I were captain, I wouldn't put so many fuckin' seventh years on the team." He stopped at a door near the end of the hall. There was a silver plaque on it reading "Draco Malfoy and Vincent Crabbe." Slytherins preferred privacy, so unlike the other Houses, their dormitories were two to a room.
The dorm was big enough, stone like the rest of the House, lit with torches. The hangings on the bed, the carpet, and their blankets were green. There were no windows, as they were underground.
Draco sat on the edge of his bed, which every year was the one closer to the door. His things had already been brought up and he put his feet on his trunk, as it was at the end of the bed. He then rested his elbows on his legs and buried his head in his hands.
"Great," he mumbled. "Just dandy. Those damn Gryffindors are gonna get me so bad." And after what he'd been doing to them for years, he knew it was true. He could see it now; all of them with some stupid buttons saying awful things about him. "Why did I start that whole button-thing in the first place?"
"Who are you talking to?" Crabbe said stupidly. Draco looked up at him, very seriously.
"The bogart under my bed."
"You have a bogart under your bed?!" the idiot asked fearfully. Draco rolled his eyes, but figured he may as well use the oaf's stupidity to his own advantage.
"Yup. He's my pet." He said, trying to keep his face straight. "So you better be good Crabbe!"
Crabbe didn't look too happy about this. Draco vividly remembered the time they had been battling bogarts in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Crabbe's had actually turned into giant crab, causing the entire class to laugh at the irony of the situation. Crabbe however, had not found it funny, and could not seem to get the spell right. He had been blatently terrified and that poor-boy Lupin teacher had to help him out.
This caused Draco to wonder dully if Voldemort would ever even accept either Crabbe or Goyle, as they had even less sense than their fathers—and that wasn't saying much.
Lucky them, he thought.
Thanks muchos for reading, you guys are great!