Wintersalad │ Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter." │ Written: 7/15/12 │ Posted: 7/23/12 │ Last Edited: 8/16/12

by chance

Draco Malfoy was an entitled boy and he knew it. He was even, dare he say it, spoiled. He knew he was different from all his peers and never once questioned it. He was a Malfoy, and that was that.

But being entitled and spoiled did not necessarily mean that he grew up never wanting. Oh, he wanted. He never stopped wanting. And perhaps that was just a part of being a Malfoy too.

The one thing he wanted more than anything else however, the one thing he could never really remember ever really having, was his father's approval. While his mother doted on him, his father always kept him at length, coolly accessing his performance and worth. Never had his father's eyes lit up with pride the way Goyle's did when he flew his first four feet off the ground. And ever since he saw that peculiar phenomenon on that unspectacular afternoon at some unimportant time and place, he craved it.

But alas, Lucius Malfoy was not one who was impressed by much of anything. Instead, he had expectations. You either met those expectations, or were found lacking.

And more often than not, Draco wondered if he was the latter.

That wasn't to say that his father didn't love him. So long as he behaved or did as was expected, Draco got everything he could ask for. But that was the only measure he had. And somewhere, deep inside a small honest part of himself, he knew it wasn't enough.

And so, when Dumbledore called for everyone to return to their rooms, Draco grinned at his two companions and nodded discretely down the hall. What better way to get the recognition he desired from both his peers and his father than by beating a troll his first year? He'd show that Potter for turning him down.

And perhaps, his father will finally see that Draco was enough. No, more than enough for a son.

And really, how hard could it be to beat a dumb troll? He'd learned about them before, and really, they didn't seem all that bright or strong, especially against magic.

But when they finally caught up to the smelly beast, Crabbe and Goyle hightailed out of there.

And left him alone with a giant mountain troll.

He'll never remember exactly what happened after that. Everything happened way too fast. Somehow, he was rooted to the spot even as he felt Crabbe and Goyle disappear from the corridor and he might have had screamed like a little girl, but in hindsight, it probably was just the mudblood. He couldn't believe he let that filth touch him!

But yes, back to the point. Crabbe and Goyle, his two supposed bodyguards-slash-friends ran out on him and left him to the mercy of one giant troll with a giant club and of all people and things, Granger comes to his rescue by throwing a bloody summoning charm at him. Then, she had the gall to touch him and drag him with her like a bloody giant, before shoving him away from her like she hadn't been the one to grab at him in the first place!

"Ow! What's wrong with you Granger!"

But then, as he turned to glare at the girl, he felt his face pale and blood run cold. Granger, the dirty little annoying know-it-all, was on the floor, limbs askew at odd angles and blood seeping from her body at a steady pace. Draco had never seen so much gore in his life.

And for once, he felt something for someone other than himself.

Fear.

"Granger! Granger, get up!"

He'd never seen someone die before, and honestly he had no wish to start now, regardless of the threats and lies he sometimes threw around carelessly. But more than that, he didn't want to die himself. And Draco knew, somehow, that he'd never get out of this alive just by himself.

Curse Crabbe and Goyle.

But even as his eyes widened while he watched the ugly beast gear up for another round of beat-the-mudblood, he could do nothing but hold his breath. In fear. In anticipation. In dread.

A shoe hit the smelly creature's head.

"Hey! Dumb and ugly!"

Draco turned his head in disbelief towards the two boys panting breathlessly about a yard away. It was Potty and the Weasel.

The troll swiveled in confusion, the shoe doing barely any damage but arouse its curiosity, but somehow, it seemed to register the insult a minute later and roared in anger as it swung around in a wide arc, turning its body away from Granger and moving towards the redhead. Potter took advantage of the distraction and made to move towards the girl bleeding out on the floor, but the troll snorted in irritation and swung back up with its club, keeping him away.

"Whoa!" the boy-who-wouldn't-die yelled, barely dodging the swing. "Ron, do something!"

"Like what!"

"I don't know, just do it!"

Rolling his eyes at the imbeciles, Draco discreetly edged away from the chaos, eyeing Granger and the troll surreptitiously.

"Gryffindors."

But just as he was about to pass by the prone form of the girl who had probably saved his life, not that he'd ever admit it, he heard the Weasel yell out, "Wingardium Leviosar!"

Incredulous, he tore his eyes away to stare at the dismal display of one Ronald Weasley coughing up ash as his botched spell backfired. Really, what was Weasley trying to do? Hover the troll to death?

But the Weasel's little trick did more than kick up a little dust- it aggravated an already pissed-off mountain troll. Thundering with fury, the stupid thing swung its club around wildly, smashing into the wall on its left, before swinging again back down between the two Gryffindors. The castle shook in protest at the abuse and debris began to fall atop of all four first-years. Somehow, during the continued fray, they all gathered within a foot of the other, the floor completely torn around them with wreckage blocking their escape, and all within reaching distance of the troll's wrath. The three boys stared in terror as the troll gave a semblance of a smirk as it saw its victims all gathered so neatly and raised its club up high.

"I told you," a scratchy, yet still soft, voice muttered from the floor. "It's Wingardium Leviosa, not Leviosar."

All three boys witnessed, mouths agape, as the troll's club slipped out of his grip and suspended in the air above his head.

But just as abruptly as Hermione Granger entered into consciousness, she just as quickly left it, and with that, the club fell along with her, right onto the troll's head.

With the troll following soon after.

"Merlin, the mudblood did save him. Bloody hell, she saved all of them."

.

AN: This feels so fast-paced. Is it going too fast for anyone? I'm not sure if it is good or bad, since I suppose it does portray the action and sense of urgency in these two chapters. Of course, it just may be that I'm going very fast with this story in general, being as this is a different writing style and effort of mine in attempts to just write it all out as quickly as possible. Let me know how you feel about it please! Again, I'll probably edit it in its entirety sometime in the very far future.

On another note, thank you for the kind reviews, and I'd like to reassure everyone, that I have all intentions of continuing this story. Thank you for your support.