A/N: I know, I haven't updated this in about two months. Summer was actually busy for me. I worked too much. I go back to school tomorrow, but I figured I owed everyone this! I will try my best to update while school's going on, but no promises! I think I have some hard courses and work is still going till October. I will certainly try my best though! I'm thinking that I will actually have more time now.

Anyways, you meet Draco in this and the story is just getting started! It's about 12,000 words already and will probably be at least 100,000 in the end. Got a ways to go though!

I started this yesterday, because really, what else is there to do in a hurricane? Hope all of you who live on the east coast didn't get hit too badly! We didn't suffer too badly from Irene over here.

Sorry if my grammar is atrocious. I have poor editing skills. I need a beta to help me edit and to help me with Britishisms, as am I not British no matter how much I may wish it at times or how many times a day I speak in an impersonation of their accent! Any takers?

There will be some original characters in this. Two of which are mentioned in this chapter. None of them will be at all central to the story. I simply needed bodies.

Disclaimer: All characters and original ideas belong to J. K. Rowling and her affiliates. I only play with them in a way that JKR would probably be appalled by (:

Part Two

~Chapter 2~

The Welcoming Feast

Trumpets blared and drums sounded across the giant hall with chants of ceremonial music being played by a live symphony. Rows upon rows of chandeliers lined the room's archways, illuminating the gothic room in bouts of golden light, the stained glass windows glimmering rainbows. Four tables of deep mahogany spanned the length of the hall, leading to a table at the far end upon a stage. All around the Great Hall, students clamored over the benches and tables till they were lining the walls, leaving a path cleared in the center that lead directly to the platform and grand table at the end of the large room. The students clapped and cheered as the procession of new freshman students made their way down the center aisle.

Harry stuck as close to Hermione as he could, her hand still on his arm, feeling his anxiety heightened by the loud cheering going on by the older students. To him, their smiles of glee were not at all as welcoming as they were supposed to offer. Instead, they only caused intimidation and embarrassment to overtake him. He felt as though he were a monkey in a zoo, the gazes that lingered on him unsettling. He could not look around and meet them in the eye as the rest of the freshman did in awe. He could only look down at the floor and hug close to Hermione as she guided him deeper into the chaos.

Eventually, the freshman students all came to a stop and stand still in front of the grand table in which members of the staff were seated at. Harry still could not look up, trying his best to block out the ongoing ovations from the crowd. To say that he was overwhelmed would be an understatement.

"Isn't it wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed next to him, letting her hand fall from his arm. "Have you ever seen anything like it?"

Harry could not answer her; for if he did he would have to come face to face with the sense of foreboding the students' cheers and the symphony's processional music gave him. Harry doubted she noticed anyway. She was too busy marveling at the exquisite beauty of the ancient, medieval fortress they now stood in.

The noise began to quiet down and Harry new that the Headmaster must have gotten up to speak his welcoming address. As soon as the hall was silent, Harry allowed himself to tear his eyes away from the floor and his tattered trainers to look at the Headmaster.

The man stood up at the head table on the raised platform, towering over the other staff members seated and the whole student body who's eyes were all focused on him. He smiled warmly to all of his onlookers with a twinkling in his bright blue eyes. He wore a suit of deep purple velvet that spoke of nobility and a pair of spectacles sat upon his hooked nose.

"Welcome back my fine students to another year at Hogwarts School of the Arts," he began, his deep voice echoing around the room for all ears to hear. "I am pleased to see that you have not lost your enthusiasm or spirit over the summer," he continued, earning a hearty chuckle to be released from several of the room's occupants. "And to those new students this year," he began again, looking pointedly down at the group of freshman students gathered in front of him, "welcome to our magnificent school! I am Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. Here, you will receive extraordinary opportunities in your chosen field of art and also get to explore many other areas."

The Headmaster went on about the many opportunities the school offered its' students and Harry couldn't help but be somewhat entranced by his words. His warm voice served as a reminder to him of why he was there; to fulfill his dream of becoming proficient in the dramatic arts. With this reminder, he felt the tension in his nerves begin to decrease. The Headmaster's kind words drove away some of his fears for the moment.

"Here, you find yourself in the Great Hall, which serves primarily as meeting hall for all of the students and staff," Dumbledore spoke, waving his arms in the air in acknowledgement of the great room that held them. "All meals are held here, as well as many important functions throughout the year. The Great Hall is a place where all houses and teachers can gather together." The man paused his speech for effect to look back into the excited eyes of each of the freshman. "You will be shown around the rest of the school later by your house prefects and will get the chance to explore this enormous castle within the next few days. However, now it is time that we divide our new students into their prospective houses and without further ado, I'd like to welcome Professor McGonagall, Headmistress to the school and also Head of the Dramatic and Theatrical Arts House, to speak to you."

Clapping and cheering filled the room as Professor Dumbledore took his seat at the head of the Staff Table and Professor McGonagall walked up the steps to the platform from where she stood with the freshman.

As soon as she reached the top of the stage, silence overtook the room as everyone waited to hear her words. "Thank you Headmaster," she began in her kind, but stern voice. "Houses are what separate each student from their peers. Our houses have students grouped by their chosen field of art, whom they will share most of their classes and time with. There are forty students to each house, no more and no less, ten from each class. We have four houses here at Hogwarts; the House of Music, the House of the Visual Arts, the House of Dance, and the House of the Dramatic and Theatrical Arts. Each house occupies one area of the castle with it's own common room and dorms. All students eat in the Great Hall, but must sit with their house. Students are only allowed in their own house territory and cannot go into another, even common rooms. If you wish to interact with students from another house, there are plenty of recreational rooms inside the castle as well as the library and the city outside. All students are allowed to leave the school whenever they wish, as long as it is not during class time and they are back before curfew. Curfews will be explained later to you by your house prefects. There are two prefects for every house, one male and one female, both of whom are seniors. They are there to offer help when needed and also to make sure that the members of their house follow all rules. Rules will be explained to you later by your prefects. Also, each house has a designated Head of House who is one of our staff members. They are teachers with a vast experience in the field of art represented by their house. Our Head of Houses include Professor Filius Flitwick for the House of Music, Professor Pomona Sprout for the House of the Visual Arts, Professor Severus Snape for the House of Dance, and myself for the House of the Dramatic and Theatrical Arts. As Heads of Houses, we will be there to listen to any of our students who seek our help, to enforce rules, and to offer guidance in aiding students in mapping their career after Hogwarts. Now," McGonagall said loudly, pausing to gather everyone's attention for the most important part of her time up on stage. "It is time to introduce our new students to their houses and their prefects. Returning students, please take your seats at your house tables and prefects, please join me on the stage."

McGonagall stopped speaking as the commotion of students trying to get where they were instructed to be overtook the room. Harry felt anticipation and anxiety creep through his veins once again at the prospect of meeting the other students in his house. Of course he knew which house he would be in, and he did know that Hermione would be with him, but he was especially nervous about how his dorm mates would react to him. Did they come from a world like Hermione where they were exposed to the theatre before the age of one? Were they homophobic?

Professor McGonagall began pointing out the other three Heads of Houses among the teachers as the prefects began making their way onto the stage. Harry thought the one who was Head of the House of Dance, Professor Snape, looked rather intimidating and frightening and was instantly glad he would not belong to that House.

McGonagall cleared her throat sharply to direct everyone's attention back to her once all of the prefects had taken their positions on the stage. "Now, that we have our prefects gathered here, it is time to call of you new students up to stand with them. I will introduce the prefects of each house and then begin calling your names. Once your name is called, you will come up here and stand with the two prefects of your house and the other freshman in your house."

Harry began to scan the prefects that were lined up on the stage, each standing with the other from their house in one particular spot on the platform. His eyes made it to the third group of prefects standing on the right, and at once, his breath caught in his throat and his blood quickened. His eyes were glued to the boy who stood proudly as the prefect of the House of Dance and heat rushed from his face downwards. This boy was quite possibly the most beautiful man Harry had ever seen; a man that would be the center of everyone's innocent or erotic fantasies. His short, wispy bleach blonde hair framed his face; the soft locks alleviating the sharpness presented by his structured jaw line. The body that belonged to him was well sculpted, a carefully chiseled statue displaying Adonis-like beauty. He was tall, thin, and well muscled, but not bulky and Harry felt as if he would give anything in that moment to run his hands over the silky pale skin pulled taut over his exposed muscled bicep.

However, the boy's most prominent feature was the startling blue eyes that looked out at the crowd beneath him, shining with a hard power and pride. The deep blue orbs were both intimidating and alluring. They were eyes one could simply get lost in, lusting after their beauty. However, there was still a trace of inspired fear from a danger within, as if their owner would show no mercy. The young man's whole physique screamed power, dominance, danger, and seduction, but there was still a soft, innocent, and angelic air to him. Harry was drawn to both conflicting parts of the boy and he knew that he would never be able to get the image he presented out of his mind and dreams for a very long time.

The part of Harry's mind that consciously knew what was going on around him vaguely realized that he had missed McGonagall calling the boy's name as one of the prefects. He had also missed the introduction of the rest of the prefects including his own. Now, McGonagall was calling the names of the new students in the House of Dance, having already called the names of students for the Houses of Music and the Visual Arts. Harry watched in wonderment and envy as the handsome young man offered his hand to the new students of the House of Dance as they climbed up the steps to stand upon the stage with him and the other female prefect. He gave every new student a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and stood with a manner grace that commanded respect. Harry suddenly wished that he belonged to the House of Dance, despite his fears of the ominous Professor Snape, if only just to be near the beauty who now plagued his mind.

Finally, it was time for Harry and the rest of the House of the Dramatic and Theatrical Arts to make their way up onto the stage to stand with their prefects. Harry tore his eyes away from the boy to watch his housemates get called to the stage and felt his nerves increase at the prospect of walking by the blue-eyed beauty to stand with his own house.

"Lavender Brown," McGonagall called and the first of the House of the Dramatic and Theatrical Arts made her way up on the stage to be greeted by the two prefects. She continued calling the names Celia Cartier, Seamus Finnegan, Hermione Granger, Elaina Larson, Neville Longbottom, and Parvarti Patil until she got to Harry Potter.

Harry froze as soon as he heard his name called and could not make his feet move up to the stage. He felt everyone's eyes fall on him and once again felt like a monkey at a zoo. To make matters worst, he felt the sharp stare of the blonde-haired boy's eyes glare daggers through him. One of the remaining freshmen next to him, one with dark skin and dark hair, shoved him with a quick mutter of "Go on!"

Harry had no choice but to stumble his way up the steps to the stage, blushing profusely. He looked down at his trainers the whole time, praying that he wouldn't trip over his own feet and fall on his face. He only lifted his face once on his way up and that was to meet the face of the beautiful boy who gave him a leering smirk with a hint of curiosity setting fire in his cool eyes. His face flaming even redder, Harry tore his eyes away from the boy and brought them back down to his sneakers. He shyly shook his prefects' hands and only looked up again when he reached the comforting smile of Hermione.

Soon the rest of the House of the Dramatic and Theatrical Arts names were called and all of the prefects were leading their new freshman to their house tables to tuck into supper. As Harry walked off the stage, he looked back to glimpse the boy leading the freshmen of his own house across the room to their table. When the boy didn't look back, he was disappointed that he would not get to glimpse those stunning eyes again but relieved that he would not have to face humiliation again when the boy looked back at him in disgust.

At the table, Harry took a seat next to Hermione who was already busy chatting to a girl, Celia, with short, dirty blonde hair. On his other side, was a tall boy with freckles and bright ginger hair. As soon as Harry turned to look at him, the boy gave him a broad, friendly smile.

"Ron Weasley," he said, sticking out a hand for Harry to shake.

"Harry Potter," he mumbled, shaking the outstretched hand and giving him the friendliest smile that he could muster in return.

"Where you from?" Ron asked as he dropped Harry's hand.

"Surrey," Harry answered tentatively. He felt like it was the beginning of the earlier conversation with Hermione all over again. "How about yourself?"

"Devon, right out in the countryside," he said proudly. "Mum had big hopes and dreams for all of us though. She wanted us to do something special with our lives. So we all came here." He nodded down the table where a group of redheads, hair the same shade as his own, sat grouped together, talking animatedly to some of the other students. "That's some of them down there; Percy, Fred and George," Ron continued. "Bill graduated a few years back and Charlie just last year. Bill's over in America, touring in an ensemble of Gypsy and Charlie's here in London, doing lighting and sound for a production on the West End starting in a couple of months. Ginny's just a year behind me, but she'll be coming here as well."

Harry looked at the other redheads and knew that they all must be pretty talented to get into the school. It was hard enough for one person to get accepted to Hogwarts, but a whole a generation of a family getting in was pretty amazing. "Wow, guess it runs in your family then," Harry replied, a bit in awe. He knew he should probably be intimidated by a family of this size at the school, but in actuality he wasn't. There was something friendly and kind written on Ron's face as well as on the rest of the Weasleys', and Harry was instead comforted by it.

"Sure does. My mum and dad both came here," he said casually as if it wasn't even close to such a great thing. "So what about you? Your family come here? Any siblings?"

Harry hesitated, not knowing what to expose to the friendly boy he just met. However, he seemed nice enough to Harry and maybe one of the only people here who wouldn't judge him. "I don't really know where my parents went to school," he started tentatively. "They died in a car crash when I was one. I've been living with my aunt and uncle since."

He just nodded, a look of sympathy for his parent's death crossing his face. "They never mentioned it?" he asked curiously, a bit taken aback by the fact that his relatives would never mention something so important about his parents.

"No, they didn't…like my parents much," Harry answered cautiously, wishing not to divulge anymore secrets just yet.

"Oh." Ron seemed to understand and left Harry's answer alone and instead inquired, "So no siblings then?"

"Nope," Harry responded with a shake of his head, his messy hair flying around his face. "I grew up with my cousin, but he's going to a community college back in Surrey."

Ron didn't respond anything in return, only nodded silently. Then, several waiters made their ways to each of the tables, placing dishes upon dishes of food on them. As soon as they did, students were grabbing and swiping things off of the dishes to put onto their own, like Ron who didn't waste a moment before shoving food onto his plate and into his mouth. There were dishes of fish and several different meats, as well as an assortment of vegetables, fruits, and bread.

Unlike the other boys in his house, Harry ate his food slowly, instead, concentrating his gaze on the blonde boy across the room who was currently consuming a peach. Harry could feel his mouth begin to water as he watched the boy's lips close gently around the fruit, suckling in its' juice as it dripped down his chin. Harry began to feel a stirring in his lower regions and had to look away in order to avoid humiliation at the dinner table.

Ron was busy in conversation with the two boys sitting across from them, Dean and Seamus, so Harry turned to Hermione who was no longer talking to Celia.

He saw that her chocolate brown eyes were narrowed, looking over at the dancers' table and at one dancer in particular: the beautiful blond hair, blue-eyed male.

Noticing her gaze, Harry asked her sheepishly, "Who is that?"

"Who?" she replied curiously, turning to look at Harry.

"That prefect over at the dancers' table with the blond hair," Harry said, trying to keep the blossoming blush off of his cheeks as he saw a tongue dart out of the blonde's mouth to lick the peach's juice off of his lips.

"Oh, that's Draco Malfoy," she said scowling.

"Why?" he asked carefully, sensing the anger and upset in her voice, "What's wrong with him?"

"Well, nothing except that he's a lying, cheating, violent, arrogant son of a—"

"What, why?" Harry asked in alarm, cutting off her foul words.

She sighed and took a deep breath before continuing, her voice now even and all the anger gone. "He's a dancer; a professional one at that. He's been in competitions since he was seven. He's been to the finest dance schools and learned about every type of dance imaginable. He's won competitions for tango, ballroom dancing, rumbas, sambas, hip-hop, lyrical, tap, jazz, character, everything. My mother was his choreographer for a short while when he was new to competing. He even toured with a pop artist as a backup dancer one summer. He's probably the youngest dancer to ever have that much success."

Harry was flabbergasted by Draco's success. He also felt disappointment and humiliation creep into his system as he knew Draco would never give him the time of day. However, his distress did not quell the intrigue Draco posed for him nor the attraction. "So then what's so bad about him?"

"Just about everything," Hermione exclaimed, the anger and disgust back and evident on her face. "He's rude, obnoxious, cruel, and awfully full of himself. He was horrible to my mother when she was his choreographer. He's cheated in competitions, seducing women in order to find out information about other competitors, lying when questioned. One of my friends, a student of my mum's, was one of the women he seduced to gain information. He used to compete in partner competitions, you know with tango, rumba, and samba, but now he only does solo. He sabotaged his partner, wanting the glory all for himself, tarnishing her reputation so she couldn't compete anymore. But that's not the worst of it. Last spring, he came in second to one of his top competitors, Viktor Krum from Russia, in the international dance competition. It was the first time he lost in years and the first time losing to Krum. After the competition, he attacked Krum outside. The next day, Krum was found dead in a nearby river, stabbed to death. There was no proof that Malfoy did it. He had an alibi. He had flown from Russia back to England as soon as the competition was over. However, that doesn't mean he had nothing to with it."

Harry felt a shiver run down his spine as he stared at the blond who was now conversing with a few of his friends. According to Hermione, the angel he had found himself irresistibly attracted to was not the angel he had thought he was. When he first glimpsed Draco, he knew that the blond seemed somewhat dangerous, but not to the extent Hermione was speaking about. He tore his eyes and turned to Hermione. "What happened to Malfoy? After the competition?"

She shrugged her shoulders and answered coolly, "He was arrested for attacking Krum, but let out on bail. His family's filthy rich. He was almost expelled from school. They had a hearing, but since the incident had nothing to do with Hogwarts, they let him stay. However, he's still under close watch by the headmaster."

Harry nodded and turned back to his lock eyes on Malfoy, still ogling at his beauty. Somehow, the stories Hermione told him only made Malfoy seem more mysterious, more appealing. Harry felt as if Draco was a man of secrets with hidden truths and pasts, making Harry even more curious about this boy. He now felt an even stronger urge to get to know this man and discover the truth of him.

Hermione must have saw the meaning of Harry's gaze for she exclaimed in warning, "Harry you must not get involved with him. He's dangerous and so is his family! There's…rumors…that Malfoy's family is connected to the mob. It's not been proven and no one's been convicted of any crimes, but it's rather suspicious. People can get hurt because of them. I've seen it happen, please Harry, just leave Draco alone."

Harry did not want to hear more of her warnings of the evilness inside Draco and his family. In his rational mind, he knew he should let this fascination with Draco go. He didn't know who Draco was and he was in no position to get to know him, a man who was more or less the champion of his own art. Coupled with the fact that he and his family were violent and dangerous, Harry knew that this obsession would be no good for him. He had to focus on school, the reason why he was here after all. It would not do to get caught up in Draco's mystery. With a slow nod, he answered Hermione with a resigned "I won't."

She nodded glumly, seeing the conflict in Harry's eyes, and turned back to Celia. Harry looked back up at the mysterious blue-eyed boy, Draco Malfoy. This time, Draco looked up and caught his eyes and Harry felt something that he couldn't quite place. Draco's face was expressionless, but there was some type of passionate fire that burned behind his brilliant blue eyes, a fire that was echoed back in Harry's own emerald eyes. He felt a pull to this boy and he couldn't look away. And that was when he knew. He was lost. He couldn't simply walk away from the chance of discovering more about this man. There was an invisible force inside him, pulling him to Draco and he wouldn't be able to relax until he found out more. Harry realized that he was left in fate's hands now and Draco was there tempting him for a reason, though for what reason, Harry didn't know. He just knew that he needed to discover more about this man.

Draco's gaze broke his as he turned back to his friends as if nothing unusual happened and Harry's breath came back to him. Somehow, no matter how dangerous it was, he would get to know the intriguing man Draco was and unravel the mystery set before him, if only so he would be able to get some sleep at night…

To be continued...

Hope you enjoyed and I hope I kept everyone in character! Please review and tell me what you think! Many of you have this on your story alerts and thank you so much for that, but please review as well! Thanxx!

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Thank youu! xx

P.S.- Anyone know any good archives to post this on? Like slash archives? I know a bunch for Snarry fanfics because I am an avid Snarry reader, but none for Drarry fics.