Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling
A/N: I have a plot, and I'm not afraid to use it :) We'll be meeting his friends, and dear Draco for the first time. I hope it's enjoyable... And if you spot mistakes, just tell me :)
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The short trip to the train station was very uneventful. He watched people on the streets, enjoying themselves in the sunny day. If he only could, too...
The cabby sadly was of the chatty sort and kept pestering Harry with some in-detail description of his latest holidays in Brighton. He kept a polite smile on his face and nodded at the right times but didn't really listen.
His hand caressed Chien-Liu, who was lying inside a backpack on his seat. He could go on alone, he knew. But if he could still get some help, it couldn't hurt, now could it?
The sudden stop of the cab jerked him out of his thoughts. The cabby heaved his trunks out of the cab and onto a trolley. Harry paid his fare and added a large tip to it.
He walked towards the entrance to platform 9 ¾, deeply in thoughts.
He registered other witches and wizards on their way to the Hogwarts Express, but no one did seem to recognize him. His muggle-style clothes did help him there, as well. Wearing a black pair of trousers and a tight-fitting midnight-blue silk shirt showing almost every detail of his trained body, he got the attention of some girls, and even .
Without attracting too much further attention, he swiftly pushed his trolley through the barrier and then went through himself.
There was the usual hubbub. Parents, hugging their children tightly as if they left for a death march to the north pole, children running around and generally annoying their parents and other grown-ups. He pushed his trolley along, trying his best not to hit anyone.
The people here were looking with a strange expression on their face. They still didn't recognize him, with his long hair and without his telltale glasses, but his muggle-style clothes made him stand out in the sea of robes and wizard clothing.
He saw some of his fellow classmates, having great fun. Somewhere down the platform he made out a group of Slytherins, possibly even Malfoy. There weren't all that many fair-haired snake-heads...
He brought his trunks to the baggage wagon, and then walked back to get on the train. A certain voice made him stop in his tracks. "Ronald Weasley," the female voice cried out, "I don't know why I still stick around you!"
"But Hermione!" the distinct voice of Ron exclaimed. "It is true. He won't show up! Or did you see him?"
"Come on, Ron, you know that's rubbish. He likes the school as much as we do, and he promised Dumbledore."
The last sentence sent icy shivers down his spine. They are talking about me. I wonder...
He moved closer and tried to look unobtrusive until he could see the source of the voices. Standing behind a large cart, he made out Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and some of his fellow Gryffindors. They were chatting lividly, and it seemed he was the topic. "Just look at the attitude he showed towards Lupin, and Dumbledore, even."
"Well, you have to understand Harry," Ginny interjected. "It wasn't easy for him. And that he wasn't allowed to spend the summer with us, you, didn't help the situation either..."
"But to run away?"
He felt hot anger flash through him. How dare he!
With two quick steps, he walked out of his cover and stood before them. They eyed the interloper warily.
"Eh, sorry," Ron said, clearly not recognizing Harry, "this is sort of private..."
It was almost comical. His so-called best friend didn't even recognize him. Hermione's eyes darted across his face and body, clearly seeing something. She was trying to say something, but Harry was quicker.
"Ronald," he said with a frosty voice. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. And the things you said were...refreshing. And if you say I ran away one more time, you're going to...regret it," he smiled a very thin smile.
"You-Harry?" he stammered, sudden realisation hitting him with force. "But-I thought-I didn't mean-"
"From the way you were talking, you did mean it. I expected better of you..." He turned his head towards the others. "Hermione. Ginny," he nodded at them, and even cast a real smile at Ginny.
"What happened to you? Where have you been?" Hermione asked. "I mean, look at yourself!"
He smiled at her. "Life happened," he simply said.
"That's all?" Ron asked. "You don't have anything else to say? Why didn't you even write us?"
"After your letters," Harry snapped, "I don't felt exactly like writing you. But now, if you'll excuse me, I want to get on the train before I miss it."
Ignoring the incredulous stares of his friends, he walked towards the train.
He walked through the wagon, trying to find an empty compartment. Suddenly, the corridor was blocked as two huge lumps of flesh got in his way that heven't been there seconds ago.
"Who are you?" Goyle asked slowly.
"And what do you want here," Crabbe piped in.
Harry sighed. Great, just what I need. Dumb, and Dumber...
"Get out of my way," he said with just a trace of steel in his voice. "I don't have time for this..."
"We don't-"
They never saw it coming. One moment, solidly standing there like huge rocks, the next moment swiped off their feet by a powerful stunning spell. Harry put his wand away, and stepped over the now stunned Slytherins.
"I warned you," he sighed.
"Harry!" he heard Hermione cry from behind. "What did you do?" she pointed at the two boys.
"None of your business, Hermione."
Without one further word, he walked on, still looking for an empty compartment.
Master, he heard Chien-Liu whisper from his backpack, were those your enemies? Should I kill them?
No, he answered. They're not worth the effort. I think it's time you came out of your hiding. Must be terribly confined in there.
Yes, it would be nice...
The snake slithered out of her hiding, and after some movements, coiled herself around his left arm, her head on his neck pointing forward.
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He was sick with frustration. He had begged, whined, even cried at his mother, but to no avail. She wouldn't let him go to Durmstrang.
"Draco, my dear," his mother had said without any warmth in it, "you will go to Hogwarts. I won't go trough all this hassle and paperwork just so you don't have to face your fellow classmates. You're a Malfoy. Try to take it like one."
And so he did. He had no other choice.
Ever since that foul Potter ruined his father, his life had been on a constant downhill slide. Once he was a proud Slytherin, the pinnacle of power in his house, and now? Now I was looked down upon, even laughed at. Surely, whoever did it regretted it seconds later, but before that dreadful summer, no one even dared to begin with!
His father disappointed the Dark Lord. He failed him. And one just doesn't fail the Dark Lord. His father had been silent all the time, and did not give away any secrets or outed any other Death Eater. If he had sung, Draco was sure he would have to face more than just laughs and jokes at his cost.
His friends, if they could be called friends at all, had been told all about it by their parents. And some liked the fact that he now was assailable and not longer under the protective umbrella of his fathers. Some remembered the things he did to them.
Not that his mother would care. Oh no.
She was never a Death Eater, though she still felt that some issues they were addressing were righteous ones. Who would want mudbloods in the same schools as respectable wizards like her son, anyway?
His mother was all about appearance and status. That was what defined her. The moment Lucius Malfoy got caught her status within the wizarding world dropped like a rock. No one in his right mind would want to get tainted by being seen with a Malfoy, at least in the open.
She didn't get any invitations to dinner parties anymore. They got unfortunately lost in the mail. And whenever she was inviting people to Malfoy Manor, there was some incredibly urgent business they had to take care of.
She tried to cover it up under her arrogance and composure, but Draco could see right through her. She was devastated and once, just barely, saw her cry when she thought no one was watching her.
She would never forgive Lucius for what he did.
And now, he was standing alone on platform 9 ¾, waiting for his year of hell to begin.
His fellow Slytherins just snickered when they saw him, or just ignored him.
"Malfoy," the slimy voice of Zabini cut through his thoughts. "Had pleasant holidays? Did you visit your dear father in Azkaban" He laughed, and several people around him, fell in with the laughter. "How does it feel to be the son of a half-assed old git?"
"Shut it," he drawled and pulled his wand out. "You'll regret it, I swear..."
"We'll see," he sneered. But suddenly Zabini seemed to loose interest in him.
"Who's that?" he asked, pointing at a tall boy, dressed in a very classy midnight-blue shirt walking through the crowd some distance from them.
"Dunno," Pansy Parkinson said. "He seems familiar, but I can't say for sure..."
Draco used their diversion to get away from them. But he had to admit, the strange boy really was familiar. He just wasn't able to put him anywhere...
He followed the boy carefully.
He watched in stunned silence as he went to the Weasel and the Mudblood. He seemed to know them, at least that's what he could determine from the way they talked to each other... Now, if only the Wonder Boy was there as well.
And then it hit him like a wall...Impossible! It can't be!
But black hair, the face hidden under it... It all fit. Potter?
There seemed to be some tension between him and his usual sidekicks, too. Jealousy? He wasn't sure...
Moments later, Potter, if he truly was Potter, turned on his heels and made for the train. Draco did likewise, entering the wagon at the other end. But before he could squeeze into an empty compartment, Crabbe and Goyle came from the other wagon into this one and pushed him into the wall. "Oh, sorry," they mumbled. "Didn't see you there..."
They wouldn't have dared a stunt like that last year. Damn his father!
"What you're doing?" he snapped annoyed.
"Looking for this new boy," Goyle slowly answered. "And asking him some questions..."
Draco pondered about this for a moment. This was even better than his original plan. Let the two buffoons ask that new Potter. "Good thinking," he expertly lied. He was sure the only thing they were able to think about was food, food, or maybe even food.
He stepped back, so that he was hidden from view, and waited. He heard Crabbe and Goyle talk to the new boy. He answered something, but it was too subdued for him to make it out.
And the next thing he knew Crabbe and Goyle crashed on the floor. Wha tPotter said then was clear as crystal and easily understood. "I warned you," Potter said, without trembling of anger or fear.
Something was very wrong here, and he didn't like it one bit.
He raced into the next wagon as stealthily as he could and went into a compartment, already occupied by Parkinson. She just looked up, shook her head and went back to reading a potions book.
Just moments after he was safely in his seat, Potter, and he knew now that it was him, strode past.
It was stunning. No boyish uncertainty, no smile on his face, just a cold, determined mask.
Then his mind realised something else. There was a, a snake coiled around his arm? He rubbed his eyes, but the snake was still there.... And Potter spoke with her.
This was going to be a very unusual year, now more than ever...