A/N: So sorry for the delay! I started college and everything so it took up most of my time.. anyway, here you go! Enjoy :D
"So how was your first year of Hogwarts, Draco?" asked Mother. Draco shrugged, indicating that it was alright. "There's a rumor going about that You-Know-Who possessed Professor Quirrell or something like that, and bloody Harry Potter fought him off and lived to tell the tale. Personally, I think the git's lying. He probably just wants the attention or something," huffed Draco as he threw himself onto the couch in the sitting room. I sighed, shaking my head slightly.
If he only knew the truth… That boy Potter had faced Voldemort countless of times in his life and survived. Mind you, Potter was, and still is, I guess, a bloody nuisance, and the only reason he had actually survived anything was because of Hermione. Hmm, they seem to fit into a group, those three. Harry was the heroic one, Hermione was the brains, and Ron was…
Um…
Well, I guess Ron was just kind of there… Useless git.
Mother laughed at Draco's haughty expression. He smiled back, his mirth softening up his features.
"I take it that you and Harry Potter did not get along so well?" she asked. Draco managed a sigh, leaning back on the couch in the sitting room. Mother snapped for an elf to pour out some lemonade for the two as she reclined on the opposite couch.
"No, we didn't," said Draco, taking a sip from his glass. "I offered to be friends with him and everything, just like Father told me to, but he just wanted to stick to the Weasel," he spat.
"The Weasel?" Mother echoed.
"Ronald Weasley," Draco clarified.
"Good Merlin, how many children do the Weasley family have anyway?" Mother gasped. I chuckled in the background. "Seven, to be exact. Had to see them every bloody Sunday afternoon for tea," I muttered to myself.
I heard Mother's tinkling laugh again as she listened to her son complain about "bloody Potter" and "the Weasel", otherwise known as Harry and Ron.
"And also," he continued. "They befriended a mudblood!" he exclaimed, sounding annoyed. "I mean, I don't know what those two saw in that mudblood Granger to end up being friends with her, let alone talk to her. Bloody Gryffindors. More like the Gryffin-dorks," he snorted, slightly laughing at his little joke.
"Granger? Who is that?" asked Mother, her eyes sparking up interest. Draco sighed, crossing his arms and looking outside the window. "A mudblood," he said finally. "She's a bushy haired, bucktoothed mudblood who makes my life miserable and beats me in every single subject. I hate her," he finished shortly. Mother raised her eyebrow at him.
"Every single subject?" she asked. "I must have a word with Severus-"
"No, no, Mother. I meant every subject except Potions. Snape-"
"Professor Snape, Draco. Show some respect, I know I brought you up better than that," reprimanded Mother. Draco scowled.
"Professor Snape," he repeated. "Makes sure that I shine amongst the other students," he said proudly. "In fact, I was the top of his class," he said, puffing out his chest. Mother smiled at her son in approval.
She was just about to ask him something else when she heard the click of expensive shoes on the marble floors approaching.
"Ah, Son," Father said as he came in through the door. I saw Draco turn around to greet him, getting up slowly as Father fiddled with the head of his cane as he sat next to Mother. "I see you've finally arrived from Hogwarts. Made friends with Harry Potter, I presume?"
I narrowed my eyes. Oh Merlin, Draco was supposed to make friends with Potter that year. Father told him to.
And he failed.
I watched Draco as he shook his head slowly, watching Father's reaction. I winced, closing my eyes for a moment when I saw Father's expression turn into a blank one.
"And pray, tell me, why is this so?" he asked. "You know we need him if we are going to get back into the Ministry's good books once and for all!" he exclaimed, losing his cool as he started to go off into a small rant. "I am being looked down upon by my peers, those low life blood-traitors and mudbloods!" he sneered. "We need Potter in our lives. I need him."
"It's not my fault, Father," said Draco. "I tried, I really did. I offered t be friends with him and everything, but he just chose to be with Weasley-"
I winced. Oooh, bad mistake, Draco. Bad, bad mistake.
"Weasley?" repeated Father. "You've lost your friendship with Potter, the possibility of making the Malfoy name rise even more amongst the wizarding ranks, over some ginger haired, freckled bumbling fool of mudblood loving bloodtraitor?"
Draco stared blankly back at him as Father drew closer. I took a step closer to Draco too, glaring daggers at Father as he got even closer. Suddenly, I knew what was going to happen, and I knew that I had to stop it. I remembered the aftermath of this. I tried to move closer to Draco to shield his body with mine as Father whipped out his wand and raised it, ready to chant, but I couldn't. I was rooted to my spot, unable to move a muscle. I tried tugging at my feet again, but nothing!
Filled with horror, I tried desperately to wrench myself out of my spot, but I just couldn't move. I could do nothing but watch and wince as Draco's shrieks and cries filled the room, drowning out Father's chanting. I saw Mother sitting helplessly in her seat, not moving in the slightest.
Finally, when Father was about to do his worst, I felt my legs spring free and I lunged, covering him with my body, absorbing the pain that was sent shooting up my nonexistent spine. Finally, Draco's cries died down and he left the room, holding back tears as he raced up the stairs with me by his side.
He rushed into his room, slamming his door shut and walking over to the mirror. He gently pulled his shirt up, examining the sore spots on his body. I smoothed my hands over them, trying to think of some way I could make the pain that I could remember so clearly go away. I closed my eyes as I heard his breath catch in his throat, releasing it in a shudder as he finally began to let the tears out.
Please, please, let there be a way for me to take away his pain. I know how it felt, I can remember only too clearly. Please let-
I stopped my inward pleas as I felt my hands warm up suddenly. I opened my eyes in shock to see my hands glowing on top of his sore spots, making some of the pain fade away. Shocked, I moved my hands all over his body, watching as I felt the pain from his body seep from his and into mine. I drew in a sharp breath, bracing myself for the pain.
HOLY POOP! THIS HURTS! THIS BURNS! THIS-
Oh. That didn't hurt at all. Huh. Nevermind.
Anyway, taking advantage of my newfound power, I absorbed most of the pain and left him to trudge off into the bathroom to take a bath, angrily wiping the tear tracks on his cheeks.
"I hate this," he sniffed sadly as he settled himself into a small pool sized bathtub. "I hate my life. I wish I was never born into this family," he splashed angrily at the soapy water with his fist. I looked around, eyeing all of the luxuries surrounding him, up to the solid gold soap dish.
"Trust me, kiddo," I said to him. "You might hate your life now, but you do NOT want to be born into another family. How could you live without all of the things you have now?" I cried, unable to imagine a life without luxuries. He got up from the tub to grab a bottle of shampoo. My eyes landed on the bruise forming on his side.
"And trust me, things will get better, Draco," I told him. "It won't be now, and it won't be soon. But it will get better. Mark my words, it will."
Draco closed his eyes, leaning on the side of the tub. "But when?" he asked quietly. I did a double take. He can hear me?
He opened his eyes, the mercury-filled orbs that were an exact copy of mine stared right back at me. "When?" he asked again, tears clouding up his eyes.
I gently put a hand over his eyes, closing them. He couldn't see me. I didn't know why I did that, because I wanted him to see me and talk to me so badly, but I somehow knew that he shouldn't see me.
"Trust me," I said.
A/N: the more reviews I get, the faster the next chapter will be written and up on the site :D *hint hint*