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The summer passed much too quickly for Draco's liking for, with Hogwarts looming in front of him, Herculen once again became simply the perfect Malfoy child with little to no resemblance of Draco's playmate. Draco didn't mind being 'little brother' rather than Draco, in fact he was rather attached to the childhood nickname, however he didn't like the condescending tone his brother suddenly attached to the name. Nevertheless, Draco was terribly disappointed when he watched the Hogwarts train depart with his brother inside. Soon he'd be going to Hogwarts with his brother, and he couldn't wait. After all, all he had to look forward to now was another year of owls that his father could brag about while Draco stayed silent.
Draco couldn't wait until he was sending home owls of his own which his father could brag about.
"Come, Draco, it's time to go home," Lucius placed a strong hand on Draco's shoulder, who grimaced under the suddenly harsh grasp.
"Lucius," Narcissa spoke softly, and her husband nodded.
"I know, I see them, and I believe they've spotted us as well. Alright, well change of plans. Come, Draco, I might as well give you a little lesson in behaviors around blood traitors."
Lucius pushed Draco forward, who realized they were headed toward a group of red heads. One looked to be the father and the other two were identical which made Draco very confused. The identicals poked each other as the Malfoy's drew nearer, while the father whispered something to them which might have been to keep quiet.
"How quaint," Lucius said when they'd arrived at where the gingers stood. "It's Weasley senior and his identical kiddies come to wave their dear family goodbye. Where's the rest of the tornado of family members you're always taking about?"
"They stayed at home," the father frowned. "How do you do, Lucius?"
"Oh well certainly better than you I see. This is my son, Draconis. Say hello," Lucius squeezed his son's shoulder, and Draco swallowed a whimper. Since when was his name Draconis? Had that always been his name?
"Hello," Draco murmured.
"Hello, Draconis," one of the twins giggled and poked the other causing Draco to eye them uneasily as he chewed his lip.
Lucius glared at Draco, but after a moment of silence, he turned his attention back to the father Weasley.
"I see your sons haven't taken after Molly's side of the family. They are decidedly following your sense of what constitutes good manors," he stated. "Well, I suppose I'll see you at work, Weasley."
With that, Lucius turned and lead his family away.
"You work with him?" Draco asked his father once they were out of ear shot, and Lucius nodded.
"Unfortunately," Lucius sighed. "And next time I expect you to stand up for yourself. If you ever hear a person laughing at you, make them stop, especially if that person is a Weasley. No son of mine will be made a fool of by blood traitors. Now, let us aparate."
With that, the family aparated back to the manor and Lucius stormed away leaving his son to gloat over his error.
Again, owls constantly arrived from Hogwarts, and Lucius spent much of his time writing long, wordy letters back to his elder son. Draco took to writing in his potions book and waiting for Snape to respond. At least in that way he had some company. His mother also came up to speak with him occasionally, but she never had much of interest to talk about, so Draco found her visits rather dull.
He also occasionally engaged in conversation with the house-elves, however most of them shrank away from his feeble attempts at companionship, and even when one or two did spend a little time with Draco, they were always skittish and on the lookout for his father. Even Dobby was uneasy around Draco, and once when Draco tried inviting Dobby to play with some building blocks, the house elf said that he "mustn't play with Master Draco" and then took off running down the hall. That was the last of Dobby we saw for at least a week.
Draco was sitting in his room reading a book about poisons that his father had instructed him to go through when there was a knock on his door. He was surprised when his mother entered his chambers and told him his father had a surprise for him.
"Two of your father's good friends from Hogwarts have come to visit and they've brought their sons who are just your age!" Narcissa exclaimed. "Your father wishes you to play with them and become good friends with them so that you can all spend time together once you're at Hogwarts."
Draco put down his book and followed his mother into the sitting room. There, two rather plump boys occupied a couch and were whispering to each other, watching as Lucius and two other men laughed over a bottle of Quintin Black.
"Oh, here he is now!" Lucius smiled as his son timidly entered the room. "Draco, meet Vincent Crabb and Gregory Goyle, the sons of two of my very best friends from Hogwarts."
Lucius nodded at the other two men, who examined Draco from head to toe.
"Good son you've got there," one muttered to Lucius.
"Well," Lucius replied proudly. "He is a Malfoy. Now, Draco why don't you bring young Crabbe and Goyle up to your room to play with all your toys? Entertain them so I can have some time with my own friends!"
Draco blinked at his father for a moment. All his toys? He only had a couple; his number of toys was dwarfed by the number of toys his brother possessed.
Still, young Crabbe and Goyle stood as one and followed Draco out the door.
"So," Vincent Crabbe declared when they got outside. "I remember you. I met you at that Christmas party. I remember thinking you were bloody lucky to have all this place. I'll bet you've got the best toy collection in the wizarding world. Ye hear that, Goyle, I think all this Malfoy stuff is bloody fantastic."
Goyle simply nodded.
"So, where's your bedroom?"
"Oh, it's this way," Draco told the two boys who he was beginning to realise were significantly bigger than him. Their bulk made him feel like a goblin amongst giants; it was almost an unsettling feeling. Maybe he was too small like his father always said.
"It's through here," Draco led them to his door. "I don't actually have that many toys, really, but I'll show you the ones I've got."
With that he pushed open his door, and his jaw dropped. His room was filled with toys; more toys than Herculen owned, more toys than he'd ever seen in a single space, more toys than the toy shop in Diagone Alley could possibly have.
"Not that many toys?" Crabbe raised an eyebrow.
"It's more than I have," Goyle finally spoke up.
"Come on, mate," Crabbe declared, running inside with Goyle and leaving Draco to oodle at the room which just a few minutes ago had resembled a quiet, peaceful study place.
Slowly, Draco walked inside, his eyes darting from the slide that twisted around his room to the popperwalkers that littered every corner. Slowly, he sat upon his bed and watched as the two larger boys zoomed about on the slide until they crumpled onto the floor in a snorting, laughing heap.
"Hey, Malfoy, do you want to play galleon snatchers? It's better with more players," Goyle spoke after the boys finished their raucous laughter. Draco shrugged, and so Goyle grabbed the playing pieces from the side of Malfoy's once tidy dresser. Laying the pieces out, the three boys went about playing a game, which Draco easily won.
"Won, you're amazing at that game Malfoy," Goyle gaped.
"You could get better with practice, I'm sure, Gregory," Draco tried to be a bit diplomatic with these people who his father seemed to want him to be friends with, although in reality he doubted these two could improve at the skill game.
"Oh call him Goyle and me Crabbe," Crabbe spoke up. "Why would you ever call us by our first names? Unless of course you want to, then go ahead I guess..."
"In that case call me Malfoy," Draco shrugged.
"I wish my room was like this!" Goyle spoke. "I wish I was a Malfoy! I wish I had all these toys!"
'I wish you'd be quiet,' Draco thought to himself.
"Hey, can I take some home with me?" Goyle asked.
"I'm sure my father wouldn't want that to happen," Draco hesitated. "But I'm sure you're free to play with them any time you visit."
He wasn't actually sure, really, if they were his or where they came from, but he wasn't going to give them away whoever they belonged to if he had any say in it.
"Oh," Goyle trailed off. "Oh, so I can't take them home?"
"No," Draco said as patiently as he could. "They need to stay here." And then pointed at the ground where the toys sat.
"Hey, don't bother the Malfoy or he might not let us keeping playing with his toys," Crabbe whispered to his friend rather loudly. Draco pretended not to hear as he picked up a snapperister and examined it as if it were fascinating.
"Oh yeah, good idea," Goyle agreed.
"So, what now?" Crabbe asked. "I'm bored. Aren't you bored? Everything's boring."
"How can you be bored with so many toys here?" Draco asked. These people were absurd.
"Oh, uh, I guess I'm not bored then," Crabbe replied.
'Wow,' Draco thought to himself. 'These people are rather agreeable with a little prodding.'
"So what do you want to do, Malfoy?" Crabbe asked.
"I don't know. What do you want to do, Goyle?"
"We don't know what we want to do, so how about we do whatever you want to do," Goyle replied.
"Well why don't we build something? That way we can tear it down!" Draco declared enthusiastically.
"Yeah!" They shouted simultaneously. With that, the boys went about building a gigantic tower of sticky blocks. Once it was complete, they dived at it as one and had a splendid time ripping the structure apart. Eventually a house elf came by to tell Crabbe and Goyle that it was time to leave, much to their disappointment.
"Aw," Goyle whined lightly. "Well, I can't wait to come back here again!"
"Same here," Crabbe agreed.
Draco merely nodded at the two before they excited the room in pursuit of the house elf.
"Bye Malfoy," Crabbe called back to Draco, who nodded again.
Once they were gone, Draco visibly relaxed. Those two were perhaps the most annoying people he'd ever met. They did have one defining quality that made Draco decide they were good for something. They listened to every word he said and followed his every whim. No matter how annoying they were, it was rather nice having a little power for once.
Draco's ears perked for a moment and he heard the noise of footsteps approaching. Straightening his back, Draco fixed his slightly mussed hair just in time for his father to burst into his room. There went his feeling of power.
"Draco," Lucius surprised his son by the slick smile on his face. "Congratulations! The Goyles and Crabbes think your are a true pure blood, my old school mates want their sons to become closer with you, and the boys themselves seemed to have a wonderful time! This kind of behaviour deserves a reward. You may keep these toys in your room for three days before I must take them away so you can concentrate better on your studies. However, don't fret. All of these contraptions will appear when Crabbe and Goyle come to visit again. Now, I expect you to be down for dinner at six pm sharp. Don't allow your new toys to make you late; I will not allow tardiness."
Without another word, Lucius strode from the room shutting the door behind him and leaving his son rather speechless. Apparently Crabbe and Goyle would be visiting again, and though Draco wasn't sure if he was happy about that or not, at least they were someone to talk to. Someone to talk to, no matter how tiresome, was probably better than only his elderly tutor.
Draco then turned to the mountain of toys his father had left in his room, although suddenly he didn't feel all that inspired to play with them. Despite how tiresome they were, Draco almost felt a bit lonely without Crabbe and Goyle to play with. Casting a final look at the slide, Draco marched over to his bed and brushed aside the dozens of stuffed, plushy objects. Instead he grabbed a book about dragons and read with with unsurpassed interest.
"So, Draco, how was your visit with the Crabbe and Goyle children?"
"It was alright, but they were a bit tiresome," Draco sighed and flipped to the next page of his book as his mother nodded at him from across the library.
"I understand," Narcissa smiled at her son. "However keep in mind that they are purebloods and are your age. They'll be attending Hogwarts at the same time as you; don't you think it'd be nice to have friends there before you ever even arrive at the school?"
"I guess," Draco shrugged. "Did you?"
"Did I what?" Narcissa glanced up from her book.
"Did you have friends before you ever arrived at Hogwarts?"
"Yes I did," Narcissa nodded. "I knew your father long before we went to Hogwarts together. We always knew we were meant to be friends at Hogwarts and that we'd both go into Slytherin. I'm sure the Crabbe and Goyle children will be going into Slytherin, so you shall have ample time to become friends."
"They do everything I tell them to," Draco told his mother with a puckered face. "It's very odd."
"Perhaps they like you," Narcissa replied.
"I guess," Draco shrugged.
"Besides, they know you are a Malfoy, and the Malfoy's are a very powerful pureblood family, remember."
"True," Draco agreed. It continued to perplex him, yet the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if they would end up being very useful. After all, maybe at Hogwarts they could be like his house elves! Herculen said they didn't have house elves at Hogwarts.
"Did you have a good time with them?" Narcissa asked.
"I think so."
"I'm so glad. Now I'd best go plan which dress I should wear for your father's luncheon tomorrow. It's at his work, Draco, so the house elves will take care of you. Your tutor will be here at ten o'clock as always. I'll see you at super, Draco."
With that, Narcissa slipped from the room leaving Draco to pursue the library for another book about potions, although he was running low. Perhaps he should read about Herbology like his brother?
Nah, Draco decided, and instead he picked up Potions, Projects, and Proper Priorities. Maybe tonight he would write to Professor Snape and tell him what new potion was learned today.
The rest of the fall, Crabbe and Goyle visited Draco every three weeks and spent the days playing in the room full of toys. Each time, Lucius congratulated his son on making friends with the other two purebloods, although Draco respected his playmates less each week. They were atrocious at anything that had to do with thinking and acted as a single being. Once or twice they even fought over who would carry out Draco's commands. They were absolutely ridiculous, but Draco loved his father's praise, so he never said a word against his playmates.
Finally, Christmas drew near and this year Lucius promised that Snape would be visiting along with the Crabbes although the Goyles had other commitments.
When Herculen was picked up from the train station and brought home, Draco could only stare. His brother seemed to have blossomed in the last few months and finally he had obtained the muscles he'd always wanted. He was heads taller than Draco and his smile was more diplomatic than ever.
A casual hug was exchanged between the brothers, and then without anther word Herculen headed for his room.
"Wait," Draco called after him, hurrying to catch up with his brother. "How was Hogwarts?"
"Oh, splendid as always. The quiditch season was marvelous; we won again. I met a girl this year, she's rather stupid but I love her never the less. Her parents are from a pureblood family in Austria that just moved here recently. She's very good at Herbology but not much else. She's very sweet, I guess, people seem to like her. I wouldn't know about that, but she's one of the few in the school who will study dark arts with me, even though I'm not sure she knows exactly what we're studying. The language barrier, you know."
Draco simply blinked at his brother, slightly confused by whatever Herculen was rambling on about.
"Don't tell father about her though," Herculen continued. "I happen to know he wouldn't approve. She's not in Slytherin, you see. Now when you go to Hogwarts, don't get yourself involved with non-Slytherin girls on principal. It was a mistake getting involved with her, but I have now and she is rather a good listener considering she can hardly speak English."
"Are you getting a lot of house points?" Draco changed the subject.
"Of course, little brother. Oh, speaking of which, I've decided I'm going to teach you how to fly on a broom stick. You'll probably get one when you get to Hogwarts, but for now you can use mine. How about in the morning, Draco? I'm dead tired right now. Want to play wizards chess? You can get it out of the drawer in my bookshelf."
Draco obediently proceeded to pull the chess set out from the bookshelf and place it on the table at the foot of Herculen's bed. Herculen won of course, both times they played, and then the brothers were called to dinner during which Herculen told his father of all sorts of stories from his days at Hogwarts before Draco excused himself and went to write to Snape.
"No, Draco, you have to command your broom with your mind!"
"What?"
"Tell it where to go, but don't say it out loud."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"Who cares, it'll shouldn't be this hard. Now sit on the boom, and make it fly."
Draco sighed, frustrated, and tried again to make the bottom fly. Herculen had been trying to teach him for over an hour, and Draco could hardly get it off the ground.
"There, there it's up! Oh, never mind."
Herculen helped his brother stand once again, and Draco winced. He'd have a whole lot of bruises from the broom dropping to the ground by the time this was through.
"Here let me show you," Herculen snatched the broom from his brother and sat upon it. Moments later, it was levitated off the ground with Herculen atop it.
"See? It's simple! Now you try."
Draco tried again, and once more he hovered for several seconds before Draco dropped onto his back with a grunt.
"You are awful at this, aren't you Draco? It's a good thing you had a go at it before you ever arrived at Hogwarts. Almost no one is so bad except this one extremely fat kid who couldn't get his arse of the ground. Honestly Draco, try it again and get it right this time!"
Draco shrank away from his brother's harsh voice, and once again sat upon his broom. Concentrating as hard as he could, he swallowed the tears of frustration that threatened to fall and tried to fly. Once again, his broom lifted shakily into the air, only this time it stayed there. For a moment, Herculen was silent, and then he began to cheer.
"Great job!" He declared. "That's it!"
Draco spared a tiny smile before his broom wobbled dangerously. Still, he kept it in the air and grinned down at his brother.
"There, now try to take it higher and go forward!" Herculen called up to Draco. "Good, good that's high enough, go forward!"
Hesitantly, Draco inched the broom forward, but Herculen shook his head and shouted up at Draco.
"Shoot forward! Pretend it's a race, go fast!"
Gulping, Draco tried to make his broom shoot forward, and to his shock it did. However, then he didn't know how to stop it.
"Where are you going? Come back!" Herculen called after his frustration. When Draco continued to shoot away, Herculen sighed and marched after his rapidly disappearing brother.
"Pull back on the broom like I told you to, you idiot," Herculen muttered, but Draco was far out of earshot even if his brother had shouted at him.
Suddenly, footsteps pounded on the snow behind him, and Herculen spun to see his father standing behind him, just slightly out of breath.
"Why is Draco on a broom?" Lucius asked, his voice just as smooth as ever though his eyes searched the sky. "And where did he go?"
"I was trying to teach him to fly, and even though I told him how, apparently he forgot how to stop. Oh, here he comes again."
Draco shot by his father and brother on his broom, screaming loudly at this point. Lucius merely rolled his eyes.
"It isn't very hard to stop a broom stick," he muttered. "Well, perhaps I should go up after him. He seems rather incapable."
"He is. It took him an hour just to get off the ground!"
Lucius's eyebrows shot upwards and he glanced up at his screaming son.
"Ridiculous. Good thing you taught him before he ever arrived at Hogwarts."
"My thoughts exactly. Oh dear, I think he's going to crash."
Herculen and his father watched at Draco barely missed hitting a tower of the manor and then crashed into a tree instead. For a moment he hung by the back of his shirt, and then he dropped to the snowy ground with a cry.
Herculen took off running to see if his brother was alright, and Lucius followed casually.
"Well," Herculen dropped down beside his brother. "I hope you'll remember how to stop next time. You alright, little brother? Little brother? Draco?"
Draco was clutching his arm, and suddenly he let out a pained cry.
"Draco, are you alright?" Herculen's voice was now filled with concern.
"My arm," Draco squeaked. "It's, it hurts so much. Herculen help!"
Herculen's eyes flew to Draco's arm, and he paled. Suddenly Herculen felt sick to his stomach for Draco's arm was clearly injured. In fact, the bone peaked out from a nasty injury.
"My arm!" Draco cried again, just as his father arrived.
"Be glad it wasn't your neck. Do you know how dangerous it is to go broom riding without being sure of how to command your broom?"
"Father," Herculen interrupted. "I think his arm is really hurt, badly."
Lucius frowned at the two boys who sat on the ground, and then with an indignant huff he knelt down beside them. Immediately, his eyes widened, but he was quick to school his expression into one of milder shock.
"Yes, he uh, he needs medical attention. Draco, I'm going to uh, to lift you up."
Stooping, Lucius lifted the whimpering, crying Draco as Herculen watched with worried eyes.
"Do you need help, father?" He asked.
"No, run ahead and tell your mother to call a healer. I'll be right behind."
Herculen nodded and hurried toward the house.
"It'll... It'll be alright Draco. Keep being brave," Lucius muttered to his whimpering son, and suddenly Draco's pain seemed to reduce a little. His father had just comforted him! He'd called him brave!
As Lucius carried his son back into the manor, Draco wondered if being hurt wasn't such a bad thing after all.
AU: I don't know what a popperwalker or snapperister is; I made them up and they sound wizardish.
I'll continue the story during this same winter break after the healer arrives, I just thought this was a good place to leave off for now.
Also, just a disclaimer, I do not agree with and in fact I highly dislike terms like 'fat' used in the way Herculen used it, but I wanted it to relate to a certain line said by Draco in The Philosopher's Stone. I don't mean to offend anybody; please don't take this line seriously. I really don't want to hurt anyone's feelings! I apologise if I did.