A/N: This is "I blame Tom Felton for this" Part 2. As I was working on my The Badger Amongst Snake series, reimagining Draco Malfoy in Hufflepuff gave me another sudden and very strong urge for a Gryffindor!Draco fiction. And then I thought, I will wait until I finish Hufflepuff!Draco first before moving on, but NO I just had to write it out. It just distracted me so badly.

So here I am, starting off yet ANOTHER SERIES. Gosh, I feel like I'm just putting too much on my plate once again. 😂

So basically, it's kinda similar to my Hufflepuff!Draco fiction except that he is a Gryffindor in this one instead and will be a great friend to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

In short, Draco Malfoy is the new Sirius Black of the next generation. XD

That being said, I'll let you be the judge of this story yourself. Here's the first chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 01

The Boy Who Asked Too Many Questions

Lucius Malfoy was a man of power. He had sort of talents ― an eye for that particular thing. He could just easily observe where power lied. He knew who to follow when it came to dominance. He saw right away when the said power shifted. That was probably the biggest reason that he could maintain his position within the wizarding society both during the rise of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and even after the fall of the said dark wizard. Some considered it his natural gift. Some said it was his skill acquired with his cunning.

Either way, no one seemed to have any problem assuming one thing: that his son would inherit the same talent along with his strong belief in Pure-blood Supremacy.

And it wasn't entirely wrong. Not really, for it wasn't always the case that Draco Malfoy opposed his father. In fact, he most likely would have grown up to have the same pride, arrogance, and hubris if his seven-year-old self hadn't accompanied his mother to Diagon Alley one day. It was just as Mrs. Malfoy led Draco through Leaky Cauldron to its courtyard when the little boy heard a few wizards and witches talking among themselves.

"They're the Malfoys."

"Those traitors. Still so high and mighty, those folks."

"I don't understand why the Ministry let them get away after serving You-Know-Who."

"They didn't have any solid evidence. They turned as soon as he was gone, remember? That cunning snake, Malfoy."

Little Draco turned around to look at the gossipers. Mrs. Malfoy kept her head high and forward as she grabbed Draco by his hand and pulled him to the entrance to Diagon Alley.

"Don't mind them, Draco," she simply said. She did not lose her calm or grace as she came to face the red brick wall.

Draco, however, could not keep his mind off what he had just heard. He even forgot to watch his mother pull her wand out and tapped on the brick to open up the path into Diagon Alley, his mind only wondering just why his mother was running away from the insulting gossips instead of putting them in their places. Weren't the Malfoys a high and prestigious family that stood above all, including all the pure-bloods? That was what his parents had always told him. Then how dare anyone talked behind their backs, insulting and criticizing them?

Draco looked up at his mother with questioning eyes. Yet, she didn't seem to pay any attention to him as she only had her gaze at Gringotts.

Draco couldn't help it. He needed an answer. But he sure knew that his mother was not going to give it to him.

"Mother?" He asked.

"Yes, Draco?"

"I don't want to sit through the boring thing again," he said in a complaining voice. "Can't I wait for you in the book shop instead?"

Mrs. Malfoy looked down at him. She then turned her eyes to Flouris and Blotts, standing just a few stores down. She seemed to ponder. Draco looked at her intently to urger her to say yes. She always let him do what he wanted unless it was something too drastic or dangerous. She had no reason not to permit him to go to a book shop.

"I will find you there once I'm done," Mrs. Malfoy said finally. "Do not go anywhere."

"Of course, Mother," Draco answered. Then he dashed to Flourish and Blotts, entering through the mountains of books. Mrs. Malfoy watched her young son run rather excitedly to the bookshop. She only turned around when he had gone inside the shop and out of her sight.

Draco didn't exactly know what he was searching for as he looked around all kinds of books filling every little space the shop has other than narrow passages for people to pass through. All he knew was that he needed an answer ― one that could make him understand and piece things together. Yet, which one of the seemingly endless number of books would give him the answer, he did not know.

Well, he wanted to find out more about what his father did to make people talk. And the people at the Leaky Cauldron did talk about him and You-Know-Who―

That could be a good start, Draco thought. He never really knew a lot about You-Know-Who. It was a rare occasion in the Malfoys for his parents to talk about this dark wizard, and even when they did talk about him, they didn't go that deeply into the topic. All Draco knew was that his father had something to do with You-Know-Who until he disappeared mysteriously when he was a year old.

Draco looked at the books around him. He wondered where he would find anything more about the said wizard. He had heard that there were books that talked about him, but he didn't know the title of any of them.

Then he spotted one book along the shelf by the wooden staircase that led to the upstairs. The Most Dangerous Dark Wizards of Wizarding History. If You-Know-Who was someone as bad and famous as people made him seem to be, this would be the kind of book that would talk about him. Draco stretched his hand out and pulled out the great leather-bound book. It fell quite heavy in his hands that he nearly dropped it all the way to the floor. Yet, he managed not to.

Draco held the book and carried it over to the stairs, where he sat down and opened the black leather cover. He flipped through the pages that talked a lot about someone named Grindelwald until he found one page that had the word "You-Know-Who" in it.

The Dark Lord / He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named

Commonly referred to as "You-Know-Who", The Dark Lord is known to be one of the most powerful dark wizards in the entire history of the wizarding community. He is especially well known to the modern population, for he was the last dark wizard to have a national and even global notoriety and influence until his mysterious disappearance in the year 1981 ― after his failed attempt at killing the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, on 31 Oct. It is still unknown whether the Dark Lord is truly defeated for good.

The Dark Lord is known to have murdered numerous witches and wizards of various families, terrorizing the entirety of the wizarding society in Great Britain. He had numerous followers that called themselves the "Death Eaters". Although the group was rumored to have a big number of members, only a few of them have been proven loyal to the Dark Lord and arrested. The most well-known names among the ones that were sentenced to imprisonment in Azkaban were Rabastan Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Bellatrix Lestrange, Barty Crouch Jr., and Sirius Black.

Draco gasped even before he could stop himself. So that was why his mother didn't talk much about Aunt Bellatrix. Draco had learned that he was supposed to have two aunts from his mother's side ― one named Bellatrix and one named Andromeda. When asked about them, his mother had told him that Aunt Andromeda had disgraced the name of Black by becoming a blood-traitor. About Aunt Bellatrix, she only said she had gone away for a long time.

He flipped a few pages and began reading about The Dark Lord's earlier life.

The Dark Lord, according to several sources, was a student at Hogwarts from the school year 1938 to 1945 under the name Tom Riddle. Little is known about Riddle's childhood, for it is assumed that he had not spent his early years within the wizarding world. Some claim that Riddle was either a half-blood wizard or a Muggleborn, for there is no known record of his ancestry. However, considering that the Dark Lord was an advocate and supporter of Pure-Blood Supremacy, most believe that he himself was also a pure-blood wizard.

Draco frowned. Well, if You-Know-Who was another believer of Pure-Blood Supremacy, then there was indeed a high chance that his father might have joined him. His father always taught Draco that Pure-Bloods were the noblest and highest beings in the world, being above those who came from any other lineage or background. But if his father was indeed an associate… did it mean that he was the Dark Lord's follower? His servant? The high and proud man like his father ― the head of one of the purest pure-blood families in the wizarding world ― was a servant to a master? A master that wasn't even proved to be pure-blooded?

Draco thought hard. Riddle. Riddle. He didn't remember ever hearing of the name Riddle. Even outside the Sacred 28, there was no pure-blood family named "Riddle". Then didn't it mean that You-Know-Who was probably not a pure-blood wizard? But if his father served under You-Know-Who, and if You-Know-Who was not a pure-blood… that only meant that his father, a pure-blood, served under a wizard that was not a pure-blood.

That… just did not make any sense. It was illogical. No matter how hard he thought about it, it just made no sense at all.

"Draco."

Draco snapped out of his thought and looked up. His mother was standing by the door of Flourish and Blotts, looking at him.

"Come now," she said. "Let's go."

Draco closed the book and stood up. He didn't know why, but he felt like he should not let his mother know what he had been thinking or reading. So he put the book back in its original spot rather hastily, hoping that his mother had not seen what he was reading.

Yet, just by closing the book, Draco couldn't shake off the questions and thoughts ― the harder he tried to forget about them, the stronger they became to plague him constantly. Thus, he couldn't help but blurt it out during dinner that evening.

"Father?"

His father answered without turning his eyes. "Yes?"

"Is it true that you once served under You-Know-Who?"

"Draco," his mother warned him.

The way his father twitched his eyes showed that he was not pleased with the question. For a moment, Draco thought that he had touched upon the wrong nerve of his father's. Yet, he just could not back off. He needed an answer.

"What gave you such an idea?" His father asked.

"I heard some people talking about it," Draco answered. He knew that his parents would not like him caring so much about all the gossip about them. So he tried to divert the conversation a little by adding, "You-Know-Who was also a pure-blood, wasn't he? He wanted us pure-bloods to rule the world?"

Draco didn't miss the way his parents shared a glance.

"Yes, he was going to be the ruler. That is why I joined his forces," his father answered, his voice cold and stern.

"So he was a pure-blood? What family did he come from?"

His father was getting more and more unpleasant. Yet, Draco just could not stop himself. His father did not say a word in response as he kept eating his meal.

Draco frowned slightly. If You-Know-Who was indeed pure-blood, there was no reason for his father not to say so. The only logical reason that he wasn't able to give an answer was that You-Know-Who was not a pure-blood wizard.

"Draco, that is enough," his mother said.

That was the end of the conversation. Draco never got a direct answer from his father. He was only forbidden to ask such a thing ever again.

However, Draco got one thing from that day: there was something not right in his parents' words and actions ― there was a big hole of inconsistency.

His parents were hypocrites.

Throughout the years from then, Draco spent much time searching for books that would clarify his newly formed doubts and questions about his father and Pure-Blood Supremacy as a whole. He went back to the bookshop every chance he could get to find more information. He snuck into his father's study from time to time and read about the family's history and their actions. However, once he started to question his father's words, everything that he had ever heard from him seemed to stagger.

Draco never found the name "Riddle" in any of the pure-blood lineages recorded ― not even among the blood-traitors. Yet, what he did find out was that there were so many pure-blood witches and wizards that still joined under He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, only to turn to the other side the moment he was gone, claiming that they were all "under his curse". Draco had already known that a lot of the Pure-Bloods did not trust another person ― even one another ― enough to put their faith and loyalty in someone other than themselves. His father also taught him not to trust others but use them. It was not surprising that they turned away from You-Know-Who the moment that they learned he was losing his power. But then, what did it mean? Didn't it only mean that they were not following him for their belief in Pure-Blood Superiority but only because he had power? Didn't it only show that the Pure-Blood wizards could easily abandon their so-called "belief" in their superiority if it meant they could save their lives and faces?

He also learned that You-Know-Who killed anyone that he found unpleasant ― even those who were following him. The wizard of unknown origin and bloodline killed the most prestigious Pure-Bloods as much as he liked. And he proclaimed himself the ruler of all wizards, standing above the Pure-Bloods. And the Pure-Bloods supported him, knowing that he was stepping upon them. They willingly went under someone that might not even be a pure-blood, cowering beneath him and begging him for power. Just what was Pure-Blood Supremacy to those Pure-Blood wizards? Why was everyone so keen on stressing their superiority?

Were they only using the idea of magical inheritance to make themselves feel special? To use such a hollow and meaningless makeshift excuse to give themselves the power?

No wonder some had abandoned and left the family. Draco thought to himself on a summer day just after his tenth birthday as he looked through darkened names on the record of his genealogy. There were not so many, but there surely were some. When he first heard about the blood-traitors that turned away from the Sacred 28 families from his parents, Draco could not understand just how a person could betray their own family, especially the most sacred and proud family they could have. Yet, now? Draco himself just didn't know what to believe anymore. He was starting to see just how inconsistent the Pure-Bloods were ― the inconsistencies of his parents.

It, of course, did not mean that Draco suddenly turned open and accepting toward Muggles, either. He still did not know what to think about the non-Magical race. He had too little experience and encounter with them ― close to none, in fact ― to hold any kind of opinion about them. After all, his parents always forbade him from interacting with such "lowly" beings.

What he did learn, on the other hand, was that the Pure-Bloods were bloody hypocrites ― that his parents were hypocrites. They used the notion of superiority by bloodline to seek power to rule, but they only did so by following someone ― someone that was not even guaranteed to be a Pure-Blood ― with such power rather than ascending to it on their own. It was only counterevidence that being a Pure-Blood did not grant him any innate power to be more capable or stronger as a wizard. Then what made Pure-Bloods so special in terms of wizardry?

Absolutely nothing. Even with the so-called "superiority" of their lineage, Pure-Bloods became nothing more than followers than actual leaders.

And yet, his parents were expecting him to follow their faith blindly. They wanted him not to question anything as they forcefully injected the lies and contradictions of the Pure-Bloods. They were trying to lock him up tightly within the illusion they were trying to create, blocking his eyes and ears. But Draco just couldn't disregard all the convenient sophistries the adults were trying to force down his throat, not anymore. And the more he came to know about his family and the Pure-Blood history, the more resentful he became toward his mother and father's fake, spineless pride.

Draco wanted to get out of it all ― to refuse to become his parents' puppet. To rebel against his parents' oppressive teachings of the Pure-Blood way.

Draco was about to close the book when the door of his father's study opened.

"Draco," his mother said. "You are not supposed to be in here."

"I was just looking at the family tree," Draco said. "That's all."

"Come out of there now and get ready. We're going to have visitors today," his mother said.

Draco groaned.

"Why are they coming over?"

"The Crabbes and the Goyles are family friends," his mother said. She flicked her wand at the genealogy book and it returned to its place on the shelf on its own. "And they have boys just your age, so all three of you will be starting your first years at Hogwarts soon together. There's no harm in getting to know them beforehand."

"And what if I don't want to befriend them?" Draco complained as he walked out of his father's study.

"You'll all be in Slytherin together," she said. "You don't have to be close with them, but you might as well get used to them."

"What if I don't want to be in Slytherin?" Draco asked.

His mother's face turned stern.

"You're not a child anymore, Draco," she said coldly. "You are the sole heir of the Malfoys. Enough with your antics."

Draco sulked as he followed his mother to his room. He had already met some of the Slytherins from other Pure-Blood families. Yet, no one seemed to have the intelligence or the courage to see just how shallow everything around them was. They always liked to brag about things that did not even belong to or come from themselves. If all Slytherins at Hogwarts were as idiotic as they were, then Draco had no desire to be a part of them.

And just as expected, these Crabbe and Goyle were no different. No, they seemed to be even dumber. Draco didn't even try to hide his unimpressed look when Crabbe and Goyle held out their hands toward him. He didn't even really care about his mother's unpleasant frown.

"So you must be Crabbe and Goyle," Draco said surlily. He didn't shake hands with either of them.

"Yeah," Crabbe said. He didn't sound offended or affected in any way. "My name's Vincent."

"And I'm Gregory. Gregory Goyle."

Draco looked at them.

"I just ignored both of you and you don't feel anything?"

Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other confusedly before they blinked at Draco. Clearly, they didn't even understand what he meant.

"Or what, you can't even think for yourselves enough to notice a person disregarding you?"

"Draco," his mother said in a warning tone from where she was standing.

"I don't want to be friends with those who can't think, Mother. Who would just stupidly follow anyone that seems stronger than themselves," Draco said. He then turned around and headed up the stairs to his room.

That night, Draco overheard his parents talking about him.

"Draco's turning strange," his mother told his father. "He's not even trying to befriend any of the other children."

"He is questioning too much." His father's voice was clearly discontent. "I think he's getting some wrong ideas. Perhaps we should send him to Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts."

"No," his mother said. "It's too far. I don't want to send him off to some foreign school."

"But if he is getting any bad ideas, Hogwarts might only have him going into the wrong direction. Remember how Black turned out."

"He had it in him from the beginning," his mother said. "Draco's different. We still have a year. I'll set him straight before he gets to Hogwarts."

His father didn't seem pleased but still agreed.

Durmstrang was a school that didn't admit any students of Muggle background. Draco knew that much. He also knew that he did not want to go there. He wasn't really concerned about the Dark Arts that they taught. He just didn't want to get surrounded by those who had been blindly indoctrinated with that stupid Pure-Blood pride. He did not even want to go to Slytherin in Hogwarts. He was quite sure that it would drive him mad if he were to go to Durmstrang. He wanted to think for himself, to escape from the likes of his parents and try to see the world from his own perspective, not from the one that his parents were trying to force upon him. He wanted to see just what his parents were trying so hard to hide from him.

So Draco came up with a plan. If his father wanted him to go to Dumstrang, he was going to use every means to go to Hogwarts. If his father wanted him to be in Slytherin, he was going to be in any other house than that specific one ― maybe he could go into Hufflepuff or even Gryffindor, just to get on his father's nerves. And if it meant that he had to have his ideas "straight" to get there, a year was not so long a time for him to put on a mask.

From the very next day, Draco put up his best act as the perfect "Slytherin material" for the remaining year. He did not talk back to his parents, had a good relationship with his "friends" Crabbe and Goyle, and held up the family's creed and pride as a Pure-Blood.

Then, one year later, on a fine summer day of July, an owl arrived at the Malfoy Manor to deliver him a letter of acceptance from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

A/N: Just a little side note ― I have this headcanon that Lucius and Narcissa wouldn't have told too much about You-Know-Who and their association with him when Draco was at a young age growing up because they didn't want Draco kind of openly talking about it without knowing. So I'm going off on that.

Thank you so much for reading the story!

I would love to hear what you thought, what you think can be better, and just about anything!

I hope you all stay safe and healthy and wish you a very good day, wherever you are!

Best,
Lisa :)