Ahm slow x) Anyways, late Happy New Year lol. And thank you to my beta (are you my beta? can I call you my beta in this? xD)!
Disclaimer: I don't own HP. If I did... 8D
Draco twisted in his bed, finally waking up. He pulled the warm emerald sheets closer, shivering. It was winter, and cold, cold, cold in the mornings. He had a slight headache from last night's goings on. He couldn't remember much, but that happened a lot now, no matter how much he drank. It was all just a useless blur of dancing and table chatter to him.
Draco sat up and peered blearily at the miniature clock sitting on his desk. The long hand was at fifty-four… and the hour hand was at… SHIT!Draco jumped out of his warm bed, racing to the trunk where his clothes were lain out. Eleven!! How the hell did he manage to sleep until ELEVEN?! He pulled on his clothes, running into the bathroom to brush his teeth and splash some water on his face. Checking to make sure his clothes were on properly, he raced down the hallway, stopped, breathed, and glided down the stairs.
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Harry was roused from his sleep by Tom. He turned to see Tom standing above him with a (now) empty bucket. It was then he realized that he was absolutely soaked. "Arrrrrrghhhhhhhhh!" Harry jumped out of bed, whipping his soaked blanket at Tom. Tom smirked, pulling out a dry (and exceedingly long) sheet of paper. "Boy, these are your chores for the day," He flipped the page onto his bed. "Maybe once you are done you can try to change your sheets?" Laughing maniacally, he hopped down from the loft to check on Buckbeak and the other horses their barn housed.
Harry sighed, pulling off the wet sheets from his bed and hastily changing clothes. He only had a clean dark red top and a pair of black pants, both of which were slightly scratchy. He spread out his wet clothes and sheets on the railing, hoping they would dry very, very soon. He then looked at the list.
Chores for Harry Potter, stable hand:
Clean all of the horses' stalls.
Feed all the horses.
Clean all the horses and their riding gear.
Inspect the carriage.
Get leather, lantern oil, and shiner.
Make sure hay is fresh.
Draw water from the well.
Inspect all the horses for injury.
Allow the young Mr. Malfoy to ride the horse of his choice today.
The list went on, but the thing that captured Harry's attention the most was number nine. He rarely saw the Malfoys at all, but today he would see their son. Ron had told him a lot about the Malfoys, their snow-blonde hair, pale skin, they sounded like some kind of earth-bound angels. They were also prominent in society, or so Harry had read in many newspapers. They had headlines like, 'The Malfoy's Grand Christmas Ball: the Most Wonderful Party this Holiday!' or 'Malfoy stock has risen – Again!!' Harry climbed down from his loft-bedroom to the stables. The warm smell of horses dominated this part of the structure. On the east side was a door to the kitchens and to the left of that was a wooden table with a wooden stool. On the table sat a breakfast of eggs and some ham along with a cup of water. Harry peeked into the kitchen to get a glimpse of the clock. It read six fifty-seven. Harry scowled. Tom didn't have to have woken him up this early! He slumped into the stool, devouring his breakfast.
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"Draco," Narcissa Malfoy drawled. "You are late…" The petite blonde lazily motioned at the huge grandfather clock in the entrance hall. The clock now read eleven… fifteen. Draco sighed. "I am terribly sorry Mother, Father," he recited. He seemed to say that phrase a lot. "The help did not wake me up."
His mother and father turned away. "No matter, Draco," His father said. "We can now go to the school." He turned, opening the door for Narcissa. Draco followed outside. They were bundled up in rich wool, Narcissa in a dark black silky fur. The academy was only two blocks away, so there was no need for a carriage today.
His parents apparently thought he needed finishing school. Draco resisted the large urge to roll his eyes when presented with this new task. His parents knew he was perfect, always kept polite and cordial. He had passed all of his classes from his tutor. They were probably sending him to an academy because it was in, or they wanted him to be occupied during the day.
Lucius drew up to the school's front steps, waiting for his son and wife to catch up. Draco looked up at the place. The place was a mixture of grays and sandy colors. A large rectangular stone situated above the doors had the words Albus D. Academy for Young Gentlemen. Draco scowled. Albus Dumbledore? Why was a school named after him?
Albus Dumbledore had been one of the highest men in society, unmarried, living in a very grand house. He did not like his wealth though, and often, when telling stories to youngsters, had told them that it was like blindness. All you can see is yourself, and all the wonderful things you can get, he would say. While driving around in your carriage, you would not notice the paupers on the street, holding up tins with their meager hands. What your wealth could do for all of them… He would sink into old memories, regrets, triumphs, at that time, leaving the children to wonder at what his words meant…
He was well mannered, but an outcast in the life of luxury for his strange ideas (to the majority of them). Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco entered the dark building. "Ah!" A large man rumbled. "Misters and Missus Malfoy, welcome. Might I offer you some tea and cakes? I made 'em myself." He grinned, ushering them into his cramped office.
"Eh! Sorry for the cramping," the man said sheepishly. "I don't usually use this room that much; I'm usually out on the grounds." He pointed to his desk, which, in front of extremely large mounds of paperwork, had a small tab propped up that read Hagrid, Admissions/Grounds-keeper. Draco disliked the man, from his bushy black hair to his large feet. Hagrid shuffled through the paperwork, pulling out a largish looking packet of paper.
"Mister Draco, this here is your test," Hagrid handed Draco the paper and told him to go into an empty class room down the hall. Draco walked quickly out of the room and into a classroom on his left.
O o o o o o o o o o o O
Harry was busy toiling on his chores when he heard someone come into the stables. He turned around to see who, keeping his brush on Norbert. Slowly a tall, pale figure emerged from behind the horses' stalls. He looked completely… ethereal. Harry blinked. It must be Master Draco, he thought. He is supposed to come riding today. Draco was dressed impeccably for this, with freshly shined black riding boots, dark emerald riding pants, and a white-silver top. On his head was a black riding cap and in his hands was a dark riding crop.
"I'd like to ride Thiassi," Draco said coldly. He had utterly disliked the meeting and test at Dumbleshit's school. He couldn't wait to get away from his parents. He looked down his nose at the stable-hand. He looked short, with messy brown-black hair and round, bent glasses. His shirt was thing and draped over his torso well. His eyes were a magnificent, glittering emerald, Draco's favorite color. Draco turned his head quickly, wrinkling his nose.
Harry sprang into action, only just realizing that he was staring. Ron was right. The Malfoys looked like angels, or some kind of higher Being. He grabbed saddle and bridle, fumbling with the straps as he dressed Thiassi. The tawny-gray horse snorted at him, impatient for a ride. Harry finished and led Thiassi out to Draco. His hands twitched as he led out the bridle. Draco grasped the reins, his hand slightly brushing Harry's. Their hands looked extremely different, Draco's pale, his fingers well manicured, Harry's dirty from working in the stable, still-slightly-tanned-from-summer skin, dirty fingernails. Harry pulled away quickly, turning and going back to work on Norbert. Norbert snorted and looked down at Harry, his large eyes gleaming mischievously. Harry lightly swatted him, sighing.
Draco turned out of the stable, leading Thiassi out. He turned at the doors to see the stable boy swat at Norbert. He blinked and turned, mounting Thiassi and dashing into the cool outdoor air.
YyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyY
"Draco!" Draco shook his head, moaning as he woke up. His mother was at the door to his room, looking really irritated. "Today we have a social at the Parkinson's. Your father and I expect you to prepare accordingly." Narcissa turned around and pranced off. Draco moaned again, rolling out of bed. Onto the floor. Draco pushed himself off of the thankfully very plush carpet and slumped to the bathroom.
x
Harry woke up, rolling over in the dark of the early morning. Tom wasn't up to pester him right now. Harry rolled out of bed softly, so as to not disturb the horses. He padded down the ladder and to a horseless stall full of hay. Lying down, he peered out of a small skylight to see the murky dawn sky. He was still able to see stars, but the sky was noticeably lighter and slightly pinker.
x
Draco sat stiffly on one of the many plush armchairs in the Parkinsons' parlor. He was tired and cranky. His stomach wombled weakly, evidence of his missed breakfast. His family and the Parkinsons sat around a round table, Draco in between his parents and across from Pansy. She looked made-up as per usual, and had on a slightly less glamourous dress than one she would have worn to a ball. Pansy kept on winking at Draco, deepening his scowl and making his fingers tap quicker on his leg. Narcissa and Lucius were oblivious to their son's discomfort, laughing and exchanging gossip with Pansy's parents. Tea was served, along with fashionable mini-sandwiches. Pansy daintily took one, but Draco (as subtly as possible) ate one after another. He swallowed tea after, watching everyone else seemingly ignore him. Well, Pansy was not ignoring him…
Draco knew he was a very eligible bachelor. He knew he was the only son of the prestigious Malfoys. He also knew he was definitely NOT bad looking. However, he was very unattracted to the girls of his station. They piled on makeup, splashed on perfume and behaved… politely. Draco honestly didn't care about polite; he preferred one who could entertain him and eat whatever she wanted, lounge about in her pajamas all day and still be just fine. His parents were (shockingly) sold on the idea of him marrying, producing one heir and living in his riches. They would most likely pick Fleur, Pansy, or Ginny. Draco shuddered.
A/Ns: Slightly longer than the last chappie! ; ) R&R please!