Disclaimer: I'm too young to be Rowling so there is sadly no way Harry Potter is mine…

Placing:6years after the first war.

Challenge: 'Prompt of the day'. Prompt: (action) shopping for a dress. 2000 words. Gryffindor, Hogwarts.

xXxXxXxXxXxSlytherinxXxXxXxWayxXxXxXxXxWayxXxXxXxXxSlytherinxXxXxXxXxXxXx

sSsSsSsSs

SHINY ROOM

sSs

The first thing Draco spotted when he opened his eyes in the past was a golden glint in the hands of a woman not too far away from him.

Oh, shiny!

Draco shook his head.

He was in the past – and from his surrounding somewhere out in the open – there was no way that he…

The golden glint again sparkled in the sunlight.

So shiny…

The woman turned her hand with the small key in it to hand the key to the cashier.

Cashier.

Past.

Right – no stealing, Draco!

Draco tried to turn away from the woman, but his eyes were fixed on the key in her hands.

"My cohorts will kill me if I'm found stealing from innocent people," He hold himself. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He might not be able to turn away, but at least he was able to close his eyes so that he didn't have to see the key anymore…

"Draco, dearest," a long forgotten voice suddenly spoke up and Draco forced himself to not only open his eyes but turn around as well.

The woman who had spoken to him was his mother.

In his future she had died barely four years after the second war. She had fallen ill while being stuck in Azkaban for six months for her crimes and had never recovered.

"Yes, mother?" He said, turning around and looking at the woman.

While turning, he got a good look at the mirror not too far from him and he nearly stopped dead at what he saw in there.

Blond, slicked back hair.

Grey eyes.

And baby-fat on his cheeks!

By Merlin and Morgana, how old was he?

Five?

Six?!

He couldn't be seven!

Or if he was, he had to be it barely…

Draco wanted to groan.

"What do you think of this dress, darling?" His mother asked and turned around to show off the dress she was wearing.

It was blue with silver highlights and Draco remembered it well. His mother had worn it one time and then never again after the press had ridiculed it as 'too simple for a Malfoy'.

Draco had loved the dress back then and even now he thought that his mother looked fabulous in it. Regretfully he knew that his mother would never wear it again after the press ridiculing her for it.

Draco hated Rita Skeeter just for that alone.

"Fabulous, mother," he said anyway, before adding some valuable advice. "But if you buy it, you should ask them about changing it a bit."

His mother looked a little bit surprised that Draco had decided to add his second sentence – of course, back then Draco might have liked going out with his mother, but he had never truly been interested in fashion before.

"I guess that I know now more about it is all Astoria's fault," he mused. His wife had always wanted his exact opinion on her dresses and he had learned fashion just to escape her wrath he would encounter if he just told her she 'looked beautiful'.

"Change it how, darling?" His mother asked interested.

"It needs a bit more… style," Draco finally settled on. "Maybe some pearls and embroidery on the left skirt part. Both done in a bluish silver, nearly invisible, but there when you look at it in certain light. It could also use some of this nearly see-through silk in a bluish silver also embroidered as sleeves instead of the ones it has right now."

His mother looked thoughtfully at her own reflection.

"This is some intriguing advice, darling," she said while still looking at herself. "Maybe I should talk to the seamstress about changing the dress a bit for me."

Draco nodded and smiled at her – that was the moment he saw the golden glint of a vault key again from the corner of his eyes.

Oh, shiny!

"No, Draco," he reminded himself. "You're not out on the prowl today."

Sadly, it wasn't that easy.

Within the last few years, Draco had always been out in Diagon Alley to steal from those who deserved it. He hadn't stolen from anybody else, but Death Eater sympathisers where always there and he always had at least taken one of their keys and emptied their vault before they even noticed the key missing.

Luckily, Gringotts had the philosophy that if you gave your key to another person, said person had full access to your vault.

Draco had long since learned how to mimic it so that the key showed 'willingness' to the goblins who checked it. It had taken some years for Draco to crack their system, but he had – and they hadn't been even close to finding out in the future.

As long as he was fast and the family didn't go to Gringotts first to declare the key stolen, he was safe…

The key gleamed again in the sunlight.

"I'm going to talk to the seamstress for a while, Draco," his mother said. "Behave."

Draco fixated on his mother again.

She was still looking into the mirror, but now there was a determined expression on her face. Draco had seen that expression before. Obviously she had decided to head his advice and ask for some changes on the dress she was currently wearing.

Draco was sure that this time around Rita Skeeter would have a hard time to call his mother's dress 'simple' when the seamstress was done with it.

Then he was again distracted by the gleam of a key.

Oh, this was torture!

Draco definitely should find another place to stand!

"I hope you didn't remove the funds for this ugly dress you wanted to add to my pile as well from my vault," a snooty female voice said in that moment.

"Of course not," the cashier replied and Draco stared at the woman who had her Gringotts key in her hand.

He knew that woman – but where from?

In that moment his mother returned and gestured to him to follow her.

"Come on, Draco," she said. "Let's pay for the dress and then we can go to the quidditch shop if you want."

"Coming, mother," Draco replied automatically, still musing over the woman who was arguing with the cashier.

Then his mother reached the other two women.

"Mrs Parkinson," she greeted the woman arguing with the cashier.

"Mrs Malfoy," the woman replied snootily.

Draco's mother forced a smile.

"How's young Pansy?" She asked and finally Draco knew where to put that woman.

Pansy's mother.

"Figures," he thought to himself with a hidden grimace. Instead he stepped forward next to his mother and greeted the woman politely when his mother gestured him to do so.

The woman returned his greeting and put away her key.

Shiny!

"No, Draco," he reminded himself. "The others might not be happy if I start something without talking to them first –"

On the other hand it was Pansy's mum – and the whole family definitely deserved it…

Also, that key was so shiny!

While his mother and the woman made some stilted conversation, Draco pouted next to them.

He wanted to have something shiny!

But the others…

But then, it was Parkinson!

Still the others…

Parkinson!

"You know that you and the others might need some funds to change whatever you want to change," Draco reminded himself.

"But the others might have planned something else already," he thought. "I promised Longbottom that he would be the one to decide on our strategy. I have to wait until he contacts me before doing anything –"

But Parkinson!

NO! Not without approval of the others! You swore that to yourself!

But it was Parkinson – the family who was responsible for the death of his own!

Still, the others first…

Parkinson!

Then the woman left and Narcissa Malfoy paid for her altered dress.

"Come on, Draco," she said. "I take you to the quidditch shop. I still have to go and buy a new cauldron, but I guess you're old enough to stay inside the shop alone for a few minutes – or do you want to accompany me?"

"No, mother," Draco said. "I promise I will be at the quidditch shop when you return!"

His mother touched his shoulder in approval and then took him to the shop where she left him.

Draco smiled and held up a shiny key towards the sunlight before he left the shop and went to Gringotts.

There he stepped up to the first free teller.

"Excuse me," he said. "I want to open a business vault and transfer some funds to it."

The goblin raised an eyebrow at him.

"Aren't you a bit young to open any kind of vault?" The goblin asked.

Draco returned the raised eyebrow.

"Will you stop me just because I'm underage?" He replied. He hoped that they wouldn't but they were goblins so maybe they would…

"If you were our own young it would be understandable," the goblin asked. "But for a wizard child you seem to be a bit early. I remember that you don't leave your parents until you're eleven years old."

Draco shrugged.

"Then I'm different," he said. "So what?"

The goblin thought about it for another moment. Then the goblin nodded.

"I will open your vault," he said. "But I insist on monitoring your endeavour like I would with my own young. If it is a success, I will treat you like every other business man, if it isn't I will go to your parents, explain to them what you did and demand to be recompensed for my time."

Draco thought about that for a moment.

Then he remembered Harry's declaration and his own agreement to the murder of his father.

Besides, they might need some money to act – and Gringotts keys were so shiny!

"Alright," he said shrugging.

"So what name do you want to have for your business?" The goblin asked. "And who's name do you want to add for access?"

"Access to Harry James Potter, Neville – I don't know, maybe Frank – Longbottom and Luna – whatever – Lovegood as well as Draco Lucius Malfoy," Draco replied. "For the name… we haven't decided on one yet – will this be a problem?"

The goblin shook his head.

"As long as you have a name when you start your business, it should be no problem. I will simply put it in your name for now and mark it as 'unnamed'. If you don't take too long, naming it won't force you to pay for a name-change."

Draco narrowed his eyes.

"What's 'too long'?" He asked suspiciously.

"A month," the goblin replied while showing his teeth.

Draco guessed that they should manage to name it within the next month.

"Alright," he said. "Let's do it like that."

With that, he handed over the key.

Ten minutes later he left the bank with his own key on a chain around his neck and three more for the same vault in his pocket, the one for the Parkinson vault handed over to Gringotts so that they could hand it back. It would cost the Parkinson's a fee because it was treated like a key-return after a loss – but Draco had told them that Mrs Parkinson said that she didn't mind and that she was giving them the money as a present with no wish for them to return it.

The Parkinson key in Draco's hands had reflected that wish.

At the end of the day, the Parkinson would be poor without any way to get back their money because they 'donated it willingly'.

Draco didn't feel guilty at all.

"Mother!" He greeted his mother joyfully when she came to pick him up from the quidditch shop. "Can I have 'Quidditch through the ages'? I want to send it to a friend for his birthday!"

His mother just smiled indulgently and bought him the book.

Not even ten minutes later they were home and Draco went to wrap the book as a present.

Inside the book he put a note and a key.

So shiny – and all theirs!

Then he called for his house-elf.

"Dobby!" He said. "I want you to deliver this present to the psychopath."

Oh, what a fun he would have now that he was back!

xXxXxXxXxXxSlytherinxXxXxXxWayxXxXxXxXxWayxXxXxXxXxSlytherinxXxXxXxXxXxXx

And here comes Draco – and it's my friend's fault that he's obsessed with shiny objects. I didn't plan to write him that way before hearing my friend's 'shiny' comment! Honestly! Also, Draco always could hold a grudge – even if his revenge wasn't that particular when he was young the first time around… xDD

Well, I hope you liked him anyway.

'Till next time

Ebenbild