A/N; And now, from the eyes of Draco Malfoy. I've decided that I would follow the Half-Blood Prince to a certain degree, just with a different focus, a new character, and thus new scenes. Disclaimer: Harry Potter is still J.K Rowling's. Do review, it would mean A LOT to me!

Draco's POV

He had sat in the train for about an hour or so before people started streaming in through the pillar that separated their world from the Muggles'. Though he was already at Hogwarts and could remain there, having no need to travel to and fro again, he had requested not to. Snape had agreed to let him take the train back to school with the rest of his schoolmates without hesitation. He could understand the reasons behind Draco's decisions. No one had ever missed the train ride to Hogwarts on that day of the Opening Feast, after all, no one had ever remained in school during the summer holidays. An exception had been made for Draco, considering his circumstances, and those circumstances were exactly what Draco had sought to forget. Or at least try to let others forget about it; his father being arrested for being a Death Eater was one huge blow to his family name. He had hoped that the holidays would allow the memory of his father's arrest to fade in the minds of his schoolmates. Once word spreads about him spending his holidays in Hogwarts, he knew that it would be almost impossible for them not to be reminded about that embarrassing incident. For once, he wished not to stand out.

In just a few minutes, the deathly quiet platform had been transformed into noisy chaos. Every nook and cranny was filled up, parents sending their little First Years off with a teary note, friends hugging each other, excited at the reunion, siblings shoving each other around, mothers shouting out last words of advice. He looked on in mild interest; he had never been on this side of the train before, looking on as a spectator, this time, not a participant. It wasn't long before the train started filling up, students chattering excitedly, looking forward to a new year at school. Some walked past his carriage in search of their own. He could hear the sudden pause in footsteps and laughter as they caught sight of him, before they rushed off hurriedly, no doubt whispering behind their hands about him. Face still looking out of the window, he did not bother looking at his gossipers. He sighed, it was probably too much to ask for them to forget what he wanted to erase from his memory.

Soon his own carriage began to fill up, Pansy Parkinson came first, then Crabbe and Goyle, and finally Zabini. They began making small talk about their holidays, and Draco sat by, listening in uninterestedly. At least his friends knew not to raise the issue. He was still respected and feared amongst the ranks of the junior Death Eaters and fellow Slytherins.

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted as the door of the compartment slid open and a breathless third-year girl stepped in. "Professor Slughorn wanted me to deliver this to Blaise Zabini," she managed to squeak out, eyes shyly cast to the ground. The moment she was relieved of the parchment she held in her hands, she stumbled out, glad to get away from the 'Slytherin bullies' compartment' unscathed.

Draco looked at the scroll of parchment tied with a violet ribbon with mild interest as Zabini unrolled it to reveal the message:

'Blaise,

I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C.

Sincerely, Professor H.E.F. Slughorn'

Slughorn, Draco scoffed. He knew who Slughorn was, the teacher who loved collecting connections to famous or powerful icons in the wizarding community. His own father had used to be somewhat of a favourite of his. A part of him felt glad that he had not been invited; spending the journey mingling with 'important' figures and listening to Slughorn reminisce about his old students was the last thing he wanted to do. Yet another part of him felt annoyance that Slughorn had left him out of this exclusive session. Lucius had single-handedly caused the downfall of the Malfoy family by being caught. Trying to appear indifferent, he leaned back and propped up his feet on the empty seat opposite, closing his eyes. Listening to the simpering Parkinson or attempting to talk to the two lumbering blocks of wood, Crabbe and Goyle, was of no interest to him. His mind drifted off, and he suddenly found himself thinking of the girl. He wondered who she was; he was sure that he had never seen her before in Hogwarts. If he had, he would have remembered her for she would be one of the rare beauties in the school. Her face, her eyes, her smile…they were unforgettable. He wondered what she was doing in Hogwarts, appearing out of the blue. Ah well, all would be revealed at the feast tonight.

It was almost dark when Zabini finally got back to the carriage, and he turned towards him lazily as the compartment door slid open, only to witness Zabini's failed attempt at closing the door.

"What's wrong with this thing?," he exclaimed angrily, still trying to pull the door close. Then a remarkable thing happened. The door suddenly flew open, and Zabini, hand still holding onto the handle, toppled over sideways into Goyle's lap. Frowning, Draco's confusion was soon cleared as he caught sight of a trainer whip up to the luggage rack before becoming invisible once again. Potter. They were no longer alone in the carriage. A plan started to form in his head and he sniggered as Goyle slammed the door shut and threw Zabini off him, who returned to his seat looking rather ruffled.

"So, Zabini, what did Slughorn want?," he was actually slightly curious.

"Just trying to make up to well-connected people, not that he managed to find many," he replied, still glowering at Goyle. Draco smirked, Zabini really was clueless that it was someone else who had caused the trouble.

"Who else was invited? Potter, I would expect. McLaggen? His uncle is big in the Ministry," he continued probing.

"Yes. Someone called Belby from Ravenclaw, he was soon cast out when Slughorn realised that he wasn't close to his uncle," Zabini sneered. "Oh, and Longbottom. That Weasley girl as well."

"Longbottom?" Draco could not help but exclaim. To think that Slughorn had invited Longbottom and not him. Zabini shrugged.

"Why that Weasley girl? What's so special about her anyway?" He wondered aloud.

"A lot of boys like her, even Blaise thinks she's good-looking, don't you? And we all know you are so hard to please!" Parkinson piped in.

"I wouldn't touch a filthy little blood traitor like her whatever she looked like," Zabini replied coldy. Parkinson looked pleased and turned back to her Witch's Weekly magazine.

"Who cares about Slughorn and his stupid club, I wouldn't want to be a part of it anyway," Draco cast his eyes out of the window in mock indifference, it was time to let information slip. "I mean, I have bigger and better things to care about."

There was a slight pause and from the reflection on the window, he could see Crabbe and Goyle gawping at him, Zabini looked at him curiously, and Parkinson looked dumbfounded.

"Do you mean…him?"

"Perhaps."

He forced a look of mystery and smugness onto his face, as if he had been chosen to complete a secret mission that only he could know about, and that he was nothing but honored to do the bidding of the Dark Lord. He quenched the feeling of horror and helplessness that arose in him at the thought of his task.

Zabini looked jealous, "What can you do for him? You're only sixteen years old and not even fully qualified yet," he asked scathingly.

He wouldn't reply him. Raising the suspicion of Potter and letting the light side know something was going on was risky enough. Furthermore, the consequences of failing in his mission would be unthinkable, especially if it seemed like the light side was fully aware of it. He just hoped that this bit of confirmation that he would be involved in some dark activities would allow Dumbledore to make adequate preparations to prevent even more deaths from occurring when the Death Eaters were brought into the school. Given the chance, they would kill everyone in their sight until they were stopped. It was one thing he could not agree with. Innocent deaths.

"I can see Hogwarts," he pointed out of the blackened window, "we'd better get our robes on."

They pulled on their robes and fastened their travelling cloaks around their necks as the train slowed to a crawl, then jerked to a stop. Goyle threw the door open and muscled his way out into a crowd of second-years, shoving them aside; Crabbe and Zabini followed. Parkinson was waiting for him with her hand held out, as though hoping that he would hold it. No chance of that happening, Draco thought.

"You go ahead, I want to check something first," he told her. He knew just what he wanted to do. Not wanting to be on the dark side did not mean that he could not cause Potter some pain. Plus, it helped keep up with pretenses.

He moved over to the compartment door and let down the blinds so no one passing by could see in, then bent down over and opened his trunk again. He could feel Potter's eyes following his every move. Without warning, he pointed his wand at the luggage rack.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

He watched in satisfaction as Potter toppled out of the luggage rack and fell with a crash at his feet, looking pretty ridiculous with his legs still curled in the cramped kneeling position. He smiled broadly.

"Ever heard the phrase, curiosity kills the cat?" he asked jubilantly, he twirled his wand in his hand, leaning against the door.

He walked up to Potter and crouched down, head cocked to one side, staring into the eyes that glinted with hate. If looks could kill… He curled his hand into a fist, then punched Potter's face, hard. His lips curled up into a smile as he heard the bone on Potter's nose break, and blood spurted everywhere. Casting a quick 'Scourgify' to clean his clothes of any traces of blood, he stood up and wordlessly left the compartment. Someone would find Potter when they came to do a last checkup on the train. Meanwhile, he had some boasting to do.