Hery everyone! This is my first fanfic! Hope ya like it! It will get better...just needed to set things up! Enjoy...review if ya liek it or for any tips! Thanks! 33

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry, Draco, or any people, things, and plots associated with them. However, if you know who I can go to to borrow Draco for a day or two, let me know...

Chapter 1

"There's nothing new to talk about. And though our kids are blessed, the parents let them shoulder all the blame. Keep the blood in your head and keep your feet on the ground. Today's the day it gets tired. Today's the day we drop down. Give up my body in bed. All for an empty hotel. Wasting words on lowercases and capitals. I lie for only you. And I lie well."

"The Quite Things That No One Ever Knows" – Brand New

Draco put down the knife and gazed at his reflection once more. What was the point anymore? It was wasted; everything was wasted. The timing was all wrong. He never even had a minute to himself anymore. He glanced down at the razor under the palm of hand sardonically. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing he was never alone.

A knock sounded outside his bathroom once again. "Draco!" a fierce voice shrilled, reminding him why he agreed to finish out his last year of schooling under the direction of a wizard he loathed. "Your ride is here! You spend too much time in front of the mirror, Draco. You're like a worthless woman. You're not worthy of the name Malfoy."

Anger gripped Draco's mind, his hand forming into a fist, clutching the blade of the knife into his skin, feeling it get closer and closer to his skin. He looked at the mirror – at the cold eyes he had always seen as a child, twisted in hate, at the pale blond hair he had always seen retreating from him. His father was right; he wasn't worthy of the name. And yet he had it. Fate was cruel.

Draco gained composure and closed his pocket knife, slipping it into the pocket of his school robe. He looked at his palm. There wasn't much blood; no one would notice it. Finally, he opened the door to be greeted with yet another mirror image of himself – his father.

"Father," Draco nodded his head the least amount he could to still show some kind of respect. He didn't need a beating before the start of the fall term.

"Draco, I trust you will do me proud this year. Maybe you'll finally come out of the shadow of Potter."

Lucius' voice was cold, just like everything Draco had ever known. His father knew nothing. There were days when all Draco wanted was to be the damned boy who lived. He could've been, maybe. In another world. But that wasn't Draco's world. People always saw Potter as the stronger one; he had defeated evil time and time again. But at the end of the day, Potter got to walk away from that evil. He thinks what he did was great, try living with evil every day. Try knowing the fear that one action, one step out of line, one word that was even said wrong could mean evil descending on you, bearing down, and picking you apart until there was nothing left but the cold, the harsh cold. Potter could walk away from his evil, his demons; Draco never could.

"I should go father. Don't want to be late," Draco looked up at his father and said, almost mockingly, "Malfoys are never late."

Before his father could punish him for anything he could have done, Draco walked past him and down the steps to the foyer of Malfoy Manner, where his driver was waiting. He gave Draco a slight nod and held the door open for him. Draco stepped out into the warm, summer rain. It was the type of rain Draco despised; it fell, but it didn't cool things down, didn't help. It only fell to cause misery. This rain was the type Draco knew well – all too well.

The ride was all too slow; Draco had never wanted to go to Hogwarts, but it seemed better than the alternative these days. All he had done over the summer was deal with everyone that had come and gone into his life – going more frequently than coming – and try to forget about it all. He just wanted to rinse everything out of his head – everything he had seen and done. But it didn't work; nothing worked.

As soon as he had boarded the train, he was intercepted by an angry Snape. "Malfoy," he bellowed, pulling Draco away from his thoughts. "What are you doing here?"

Draco was taken aback. It was the right date; school had started the same day for years. Snape was the only teacher he had expected to want to see him, and yet he was questioning his reason for coming back to school? It was common knowledge that Draco could have graduated the year earlier, to go straight into the Dark Lord's service, but he had refused that alternative; going to Hogwarts, something he had fought against, was the only thing he had found the strength to fight for over the summer.

"Professor, I'm going to stay for my Seventh Year. I thought you knew that."

A simple reply was all he needed. He didn't even feel like that much. But Snape had always respected him. He might as well respect him back. He didn't want to lose the one person on his side. Well, not exactly on his side, but at least not trying to use him in some power struggle.

"I knew that, Malfoy. What I meant was that you're Head Boy. The letter sent to your house requested that you come a week earlier. The school was going crazy when you didn't come. Dumbledore sent you an owl every day."

This was all news to Draco. He hadn't looked at one letter that had come for him, assuming any news he got would only be bad news. Maybe he was hiding from his problems, but he thought it had worked, but now he may have lost something he had worked towards for six years.

"Professor, I didn't read any mail I received this summer. I didn't know," Draco said. He knew there was no excuse. He didn't even try to make one. Snape seemed to notice, to see that this wasn't the same Malfoy he had dealt with for the past six years. He looked Draco straight in the eye, the blinked, taken aback by what he saw there.

"I'll talk to Dumbledore, explain it to him. He should be forgiving, but know he will be watching, Draco. I won't be there to cover up for you all the time.

Draco was confused. Why was Snape acting so odd? He shrugged it off, deciding just to take things as they were. Sometimes it was worse to ask questions.

"Thank you, sir."

Snape nodded. "I suggest you find a compartment and rest; you'll have many duties once you get back to school."

Before Snape could walk away, Draco stopped him. "Professor, would I be correct in guessing that Hermione Granger was made Head Girl?"

A grim smile spread over Snape's face. "Never assume things, Malfoy. You never know what you'll find." With that, Snape walked off, leaving Draco with a few questions. Walking to find an empty compartment, Draco mulled it over. If it wasn't Granger, who could it be? Even Draco had to admit that she was the brightest girl – brightest student – at Hogwarts. No other girl had even come close to her in grades. How could there be a question over it?

"Malfoy! You got to hear this!"

Draco turned towards the direction the voice was coming from. A voice he knew quite well. "Blaise," he said simply, waiting for his fellow Slytherin to catch up with him.

"The mudblood didn't get it!"

Draco was amazed that the piece of information he was wondering about was the exact thing that Zabini had to tell him. They walked next to each other in silence, Blaise obviously waiting for Draco to ask some type of question. When they finally found a compartment to sit in, Draco took the bait.

"Who is it?"

Blaise sat back, a smug smile plastered on his face. "Well, I'm not so sure I should tell you. I mean, you don't seem very interested."

Draco was too tired to deal with mind games. His goal for spending another horrid year at Hogwarts was to escape them all. He wasn't about to play along with them. "Fine. I'll find out soon enough. I did get Head Boy, after all."

"Well what do ya know!" Blaise exclaimed. "Well, then I might as well tell you. See, it's not exactly that Granger didn't get it, it's just that she has to share it."

Two head girls? This puzzled Draco. He sighed. He had to admit, Zabini knew how to get someone interested. "What's the story behind that, Zabini?"

The smug smile was back in place as Blaise began his story. "You remember in about February of last year when Dumbledore introduced that new girl to the school? The transfer from some school in the States?"

Draco thought back. He had seen many gorgeous girls, and he'd had his own fair share of them. But she was something else. He couldn't help but notice her. She hadn't really been sorted into a house; Dumbledore had told the school he had tried, but the hat was stumped – the first time in history. She spent a month of her time left in the school staying in the dormitories of each house, in hopes that the hat could sort her for her last year. She had made friends in every house; it seemed like she could adapt to anything. But the hat still couldn't sort her. It was peculiar, to say the least.

"Yes, of course I remember her."

"Well," Blaise explained, "it seems that she and Granger will be sharing the title of Head Girl this year."

"Has that ever happened before?"

"Nope," Blaise replied, smiling. "Seems our wonder woman strikes again, breaking yet another tradition at our honorable school."

Draco huffed in reply. She really was a wonder woman, all joking aside. She was beautiful, funny, nice, and obviously brilliant.

"Seems like it's shaping up to be an interesting year for our Head Boy," Blaise commented wryly.

"It does indeed."