A/N: Short, but enter Draco. I hope you all enjoy--and don't forget to review if you'd like.
Hermione searched Platform 9 ¾ anxiously. Where was Harry? She knew she had been ignoring him all summer, and felt guilty about abandoning him when she was sure he needed comfort because of Sirius's untimely death. But Dumbledore had warned her and Ron to keep all communication with Harry limited and rather obscure, and knowing how much Harry hated vague reassurances and meaningless chatter when so many more important things were happening, she had not written him at all. Besides, her friendship with Ron had escalated into something more, something deeper—Merlin only knew how—and she had, admittedly, been engrossed in their blossoming relationship. Now, standing on her tip toes on the train platform and scanning the crowd with nervous eyes, she felt weighed by guilt and wished she did not have to face what she was sure would be Harry's coldly angry visage.
But she couldn't even find him! Where was that boy? She hoped nothing had happened to him, and she worried over it for some time before Ron rushed up to her and kissed her cheek. "C'mon, 'Mione," he said, quietly. "The train's boarding. I'm sure everything's okay…I mean, maybe Harry's already on the train, wondering where in the bloody hell we are." Uncertainly, she nodded and boarded the Hogwarts Express with her boyfriend.
Ron was worried about his mate, too, and feeling guilty about the careless lack of communication over the summer. He didn't want to show his feelings to Hermione, unless he encourage her own brooding, so he tried to act casual and led the way to their usual compartment—the one they had all shared before Ron and Hermione had become Prefects, that is.
The compartment was not empty, as they had expected, but occupied by two strange looking boys. Ron immediately felt uncomfortable around them, and Hermione stepped back out into the hallway, grimacing. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Just looking for my friend, didn't mean to disturb you." He began to step back out into the hall.
"Ron," said one of the boys, uncertainly. That voice—it's Harry! Ron thought. Immediately, he felt foolish, but when he turned to look at the young man questioningly, his mouth flopped open and his eyes bulged.
"H-Harry!" he stuttered stupidly. The boy smiled. Behind him, Hermione let out a soft shriek that nonetheless echoed down the corridor.
This was not Harry Potter. This couldn't be Harry Potter!
His glasses were gone, probably replaced with contacts, and without the bulky rims to soften his features, the first thing to leap out at Ron and Hermione was the intense, somewhat cold emerald of his eyes and the sharp, angular beauty of his face. His eyes were smudged with black kohl and neon green eyeshadow, stark against the healthy tan of his skin. A small black ring adorned the center of his bottom lip, and piercings glinted in each of his ears. His hair was every bit as untidy as usual, but now it was gelled to look as if it was meant to be that way, and tipped with silver. He had styled it in a way that effectively hid his scar better than his bangs had ever managed. His clothes were form-fitting, showing off his slender build and muscles usually hidden by Dudley's enormous cast offs, and consisted mostly of leather and fishnet.
"Ohh," Hermione moaned, clutching at Ron's rigid arm, "ohh, Harry, Harry, no, what have you done to yourself? What happened to make you want to be this?"
It was the wrong thing to say. The tentative smile Harry had been wearing vanished in an instant, and when he spoke, his voice was cold. "Hello to you, too, Hermione. Ron." With a curt nod, he sat back down by the other boy and gazed out the window, back stiff. The boy next to him, who had violently red hair and multiple piercings, glared at Ron and Hermione, and put a reassuring hand on Harry's arm. Harry glanced at him, tried to smile, and looked back out the window.
Ron and Hermione stood stupidly in the doorway to the compartment, stunned and unsure how to treat this new development. Ron finally cleared his throat after many uncomfortable moments.
"Well, umm, yes. Hermione and I have to be making our way to the Prefects' section now. Harry…we'll see you later…and we'll talk then." With that, Ron grasped Hermione's arm and made a hasty exit.
The sudden silence in the compartment was stony, and Ian gently grabbed Harry's face, tilting it towards him. "Harry, darling—" he began, but stopped short. He didn't see the hurt he had expected, but rather, a cold, bitter sort of pleasure. Harry seemed to have expected—even wanted—such a rejection. "Harry?" he asked, his confusion plain.
"Suddenly, I'm not their Golden Boy," his partner answered, his voice sharp. "Not anymore." And when Harry smiled, it was almost cruel.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Draco Malfoy settled himself onto one of the Prefect carriage's plush leather seats next to his Slytherin housemate and fellow Prefect, Pansy Parkinson. His trademark smirk faltered momentarily as she wrapped her arms around his and gave him a hug hard enough to crack his back. "Off," he gasped, trying to sound menacing. She complied, beaming at him.
"Drake," she gushed, "how was your summer? I've missed you!"
Draco scowled irritably. "Drake-oh," he corrected. "It's Draco, Pansy, and this is the last time I'm going to tell you this. And my summer bloody sucked. I got kicked out of the bloody fucking house." He crossed his arms, leaned back, and glared around at the nearly empty carriage. None of the other houses' Prefects had arrived yet.
Pansy gaped stupidly at him. "W-what? You got kicked out of Malfoy Manor? Are you joking?"
"I wish I was," he muttered, thinking, Bloody cow. Am I joking? Merlin.
"That's simply horrid, Drake! I can't believe it. What about your parents? What about—sweet Merlin—what about your fortune?"
Draco felt the urge to flail about, perhaps hitting Parkinson soundly but accidentally, but he quelled it, if barely. Indignant rage and disbelief rushed through him like it had been doing intermittently all summer, ever since his father had disowned him. "It's gone," he spat. "It's not my fortune anymore." Pansy just kept staring, and finally, he sighed and continued. "I refused the Dark Mark, Pansy."
Pansy gasped. "But—why are you still alive?"
Draco winced in understanding. If not for Dumbledore's protection, he would have been dead; but he had told his father in private, not at one of the weekly Death Eater meetings, and he had invoked the protection the elderly Headmaster had offered to him. Lucius could not have risked breaking that protection without Voldemort's permission, and Draco had been long gone by the time his father had contacted the Dark Lord.
"You are not my son," his father had hissed as Draco slung one hastily packed bag over his shoulder and made for the door as quickly as possible. "I have no son." Bastard, thought Draco, remembering how he had spent the rest of the summer in a drafty, temperamental old castle provided by Dumbledore with only half-sane, ridiculously chipper house elves for company.
He opened his mouth to explain all of this to the ever-attentive Pansy, but held his tongue as the Gryffindor Prefects barged in. Weasley and Granger were holding hands, looking pale and shocked. He supposed they were now a couple—how sickeningly predictable. Draco took careful note of the worry and astonishment in their eyes, and decided to prod at them a little.
"Why, if it isn't the Weasel and the Mudblood," he remarked snidely as the two Gryffindors stumbled to their seat in what seemed like a daze. "Got together over the summer, did you? How perfectly horrid. Why, before we all know it, you two'll have a little ramshackle house, and too many children, all running around with bushy red hair and buck teeth—"
"Shove it, Malfoy," Weasley said halfheartedly, almost as if he hadn't really heard. He looked at Granger, and she at him. "What's happened to Harry?" he said to her, voice desperate and lost. Malfoy grew silent, and motioned for Pansy to remain so. He leaned forward a little. But Granger shook her head and shot Weasley a warning look. Weasley flushed and glanced at the Slytherins, then took his girlfriend by the hand to the other end of the carriage, where they continued their conversation in hushed whispers.
"Damn," Draco muttered. What had happened? Something was wrong with Potter? He burned with curiosity.
The carriage was filling quickly with the Prefects, all chattering and happy to be back in school. Draco sat and sulked, pretending to listen to Pansy as she went on and on about how horrible it was that he had been disowned, and to the Head Boy and Girl as they explained the duties of Prefects this year.
Merlin, he thought, cringing as Pansy leaned a little too close and he could smell breakfast on her breath, this year is going to be bloody awful.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Response to the Reviews:
blackreflectednightmare: Well, I'm recovered, so here's another, albeit short, chapter for you! I'm so glad you enjoy my stories, and thanks for reviewing!
alyse: Thank you. I hope you liked this chapter, as well.
t-oconnor: Heehee, thanks!
Raven's Light: Your opinion means a lot to me, now that I've spoken to you and all...so thank you!
Dea Puella: O.O That IS freaky! Thanks for the review...but geez, I can't get over that...that image...
Siren of Hell: I'm reluctant to make Ian a terribly lovable character, because eventually he'll be edged out by Draco, and I don't want people to start screaming at me about it. Lol. Thanks for the advice, though--and the review!
Twisted Crimson: I love the rebel!Harry thing, don't you? Thanks!
driven to insanity: Heehee, thanks! More for you!
iced-forest: Your favorite of favorites, perhaps? Woo hoo! And Christmas is over, and yes, my fingers are firmly superglued to the keyboard.
LJMHarry: I would make the chapters longer, but a lot of my family is staying with me, and some friends now, as well, and I don't have too much computer time, and won't for awhile. Sorry. Get anything good for Christmas? Thanks for your review!
ura: Thank you!
lita-2003: Thanks! Is this one soon enough for you?
Skyla Gerdes: Three, and counting!
Squirrelswillrule: And where exactly is the libre piercing...? Around the mouth, I know...but any farther than that, and I'm clueless. Thanks for the review!
Mistress Vamp: Well, wait no more! Heehee. Thank you!
tnr: Thank you. I suppose this means you've been reading Stonewall High, as well? Heehee.
fudgebaby: Like I told Mistress Vamp: Wait no more! Thanks!
Sandalino Silvio Leif: Continuing, continuing. Thank you for reviewing!
sarah-928: Thanks for the reassurance, and for the review, as always.
Lady of the Rivers: Patience, my lady (heehee corny pun), Draco WILL be with Harry, we're working up to it. Thanks!
enamoringfixation: Yes, Harry does go kind of punktastic-gothic. Thanks for reviewing!
niceven: Thank you for the review and the offer; I'll certainly email you if I begin to lag.
Lo26: Thank you, and Happy...somewhat belated...Holidays to you, too!
K:...I'm hurrying.
angelkitty77: Yep, Harry's gone goth. Thanks!
Okay, everyone, that's it a belated and somewhat crappy Christmas present to all of you! (Or Hannukah present...or any other kind!)