A Similar Point of View

At 7:30 that same day, Draco was already up and dressed. He wasn't exactly psyched to be returning to school, but at least it was a change from the mansion.

"Come downstairs," his father's voice boomed from below. "We must leave by 8:00 if you are to be on time."

I know that, you idiot, Draco thought. He went down the stairs anyway.

"Must you wear those ridiculous clothes?" Lucius asked as Draco appeared at the table. Lucius didn't like Draco's fashion sense very much, but Draco certainly did. In fact, Draco liked a lot of muggle things. For instance, the watch he was wearing, which he made sure to cover with his sleeve before his father noticed it. And he had picked out one of his favorite muggle outfits that morning.

"I think it's…stylish," Draco's mother said.

"I don't," Lucius spat. "Still, it matches. Sit down and eat."

Draco ignored him and ordered a glass of juice. Of course he matched, perfectly. The tie was the exact same fabric and color as his green shirt, and matched his slacks, which were a slightly darker shade. Quite a contrast to his white-blond hair and eyes, which were a rather pale grey at the moment.

8:00 rolled around and the Malfoys entered the carriage, already packed with Draco's trunks for the year. Draco stared out of the window as the countryside passed, contemplating what would happen in his last year. He'd made Head Boy that year, something that had slightly surprised and just barely pleased his father.

Suddenly the carriage stopped. Lucius stepped out and motioned for Draco to follow.

"Are you coming, mum?"

"Oh no, Draco…I think I'll stay. I'm a bit tired." Narcissa took Draco's hand. "I'm proud of you, love. I want you to have a good year, ok?"

"Yes, mum."

"Come on, boy!" Lucius said.

"Love you, mum," Draco said before he stepped out of the carriage.

Draco knew exactly why his mother wasn't going to accompany them, and why she rarely ever did. Not that Draco could ever prove it, but he had a hunch that Lucius had specifically ordered her to show as little affection as possible to her son. Unnecessarily coddling, Lucius would call it, and berate her for her stupidity. In fact, if Lucius were cruel to his son, it was nothing compared to what he showed to his own wife. Lucius insisted she do everything he said, which rarely coincided with her own wishes, and Draco could hardly understand what kept her at his side. Lucius had control over her entire life, and assumed he would control Draco's also. Well, he had another thing coming.

Just outside of the train, they stopped.

"I'm proud of you, son," Lucius said as he grasped Draco's shoulders. "Of course, the Head Boy position was to be expected, so you have done extremely well in not disappointing me. It is a pity that the Head Girl is a mudblood. Do not let her show you up. You will be sorely displeased if she does."

"Of course, father."

"And when you return at the end of the year…you will be ready."

"Yes, father."

"Do not fail me." And with that, Lucius turned away to return to the carriage.

It was little things like that, expecting him to become a Death Eater, that really pissed Draco off. Why would I want to spend my time serving a crazy murderer? Draco glared at his father's retreating back and imagined himself suddenly sticking a knife through it. Wouldn't that be a pleasant surprise?

His thoughts were often of that nature, especially as of late. His father was dead-set on having Draco as one of Voldemort's Death Eaters, but little did he know that Draco had resolved himself never to go down that path. In fact, there was very little that his father truthfully knew about Draco. Lucius didn't know that Draco hated him and everything he stood for with a passion. He didn't know that Draco despised Voldemort and hoped for his downfall at the hands of Harry Potter, no matter how much he personally hated The Boy Who Lived. He didn't know that Draco would gladly kill every single Death Eater himself if there had been the chance he could escape with his life. And Lucius certainly didn't know that Draco wanted to place his hands around his neck, and squeeze, every time he spouted his Muggle inferiority bullcrap.

But Draco wasn't stupid. Not that he ever wanted to talk to his father, but Draco was under no illusion that he could safely tell Lucius what he really thought of Muggles. In truth Draco saw no problem with them—he liked them, even; though he had come in contact with very few. He considered them to be pretty ingenious for people who didn't have magic to serve their needs. And he appreciated their culture and customs, and knew quite a bit about them. But he would never say that to his father. Surely Lucius would kill him with his bare hands if he heard that there was even a question in Draco's mind about his father's correctness—because Lucius was a madman. Lucius was under the impression that everything he said was truth, and that it was madness to think any other way—but Lucius himself was deluded. He was so incredibly wrong in his view of the world, and human life, and people in general. So Draco spent most of the time in his father's presence wishing for Lucius' death, but knowing that it wouldn't happen anytime soon. And until it did, his father would exercise his will over Draco and choose every aspect of his life for him.

Like the pureblooded people he spent his time with. Yes, of course, he was destined to associate only with people who upheld the same ludicrous beliefs as his father. He peered through the window of the train at his so-called friends, who were most likely waiting for his arrival in their compartment, and frowned in disgust. And these people were just as snotty, deluded, and Muggle-hating as his father; only Lucius was more fanatical in his beliefs…

Sighing, Draco entered the compartment, where Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle grunted their congratulations on making Head Boy.

"Oh Draco, I'm so proud of you," Pansy gushed. "So who's the Head Girl? I hope it's not that stupid mudblood Granger."

"Pansy, if she were stupid, she wouldn't be Head Girl."

"Ugh, it is her! What is happening to this school?"

Draco ignored her and closed his eyes, trying to think. Yes, Granger was Head Girl, but wasn't that to be expected? She was way ahead of the other witches and wizards in their grade.

"Draco?"

He opened his eyes. "Go away, Pansy."

"What do you mean, Draco?"

"Exactly what I said. As a matter of fact, why don't you all leave? I want to be alone right now."

Crabbe and Goyle immediately stood and walked to the exit, dragging a reluctant Pansy with them.

Honestly, why do I bury myself with these inferior minds? It was a shame that he was forced to spend time with people who would never provide him with the intellectual stimulation he would have liked. But that was just another part of the life that wasn't really his.

Draco lay back with his hands behind his head when Pansy suddenly reappeared.

"Draco, what's wrong?"

"Didn't I tell you I wanted to be alone?"

"I know, but it looks like you've got something on your mind."

Draco stood and walked to the door where Pansy was standing.

"I can make it better…" she said, placing her hands on his chest.

"Pansy, get out."

"Oh come on, Draco." She moved her hands down to his pants and began unzipping them. Draco stopped her and grabbed her hands.

"I've told you so many times not to do that. Now leave," he said, pushing her out of the compartment and slamming the door.

Did the wench ever quit? She'd been trying to get into his pants forever. He'd even gone so far as to tell her that he was a virgin and wanted to wait until marriage. She'd even bought it, the idiot, but that still didn't stop her from latching onto him every chance she got.

Of course, he wasn't really a virgin. He was far from it. If there were such a thing as the opposite of a virgin, then maybe he could be that. It wasn't his fault though; he had to keep up with the reputation. And Draco knew a lot about keeping up with reputations.

It had all started with the first girl he'd slept with at the school—a Slytherin, of course. She couldn't keep her mouth shut to all the other Slytherin girls, and anyone else who would listen, about how good he was. He'd dumped her when he realized the cause of the sudden large groups of Slytherin girls following him around and batting their lashes at him. They just had to find out what was so good about him. So he shagged a few girls. But they wouldn't go away, so he dumped them too.

And the girls just kept coming. They all wanted to know what it was like; they all wanted to tame him, as he was quickly becoming a legend in himself. The catch was, the only way to get rid of them permanently was to shag and then painfully dump them. So he did. Shag and dump and shag and dump and the cycle continued on.

So it wasn't really his fault that he was known by all the girls as Draco Malfoy the sex god of Hogwarts. Hey, it was their fault.

Draco came out of his reverie when the train began to move. He looked at his watch. 9:00. And that Heads' meeting was at 9:10. Figuring that he wasn't being very productive where he was, he decided to go to the Heads' compartment. Show Granger up, and make a good impression.

When Draco arrived, he was surprised at how nicely it was furnished. The seats were cushioned unlike the others in the train, and the floor was carpeted. There were even a few books on a shelf if he wanted to read. Better yet, there was also a candy cart, stocked with just about everything so that he wouldn't have to bother waiting for the candy cart lady to come through. He smiled and lay down on one of the seats, hoping to relax. Nope. He looked at his watch. 9:02. Ok, so he was a little early. He walked over to the candy cart, selected a piece of chocolate, and began to eat. 9:04. Still early. Gods, why couldn't he relax?

Maybe it was the fact that he'd have to associate with Granger for the rest of the year. It wasn't even that she was even that repulsive or annoying. Well, maybe she was little annoying. But he simply didn't like her.

9:06. Ok, now he wasn't so early anymore. Where was everyone? Draco got up and walked to the door. Maybe someone was coming. He opened the compartment door and came face-to-face with Hermione.