After running back to his room and remembering to have Linky spell his hair in place, Draco really was on his way to the station with the house elf stashed safely in his pocket once more. Though Draco couldn't shake the feeling that he'd still forgotten something. He didn't have much time to ponder what it might have been between his father's mannerly crack of apparition and the short walk it took them to reach the Hogwarts Express though.
A while later, Draco was biding his parents farewell, latching on to one of Crabbe and Goyle's arms, and dragging them away from the commotion and into the second to last compartment on the train. Snape had suggested Draco use it in the journal, Draco knew, he had read over that section briefly while trying to copy the thing.
Like Snape said it would be, it was empty. Draco took a deep breath, shoved the brutes in ahead of him, and forcefully pulled the door almost shut behind them. Draco next fell into a seat across from Goyle and Crabbe and crossed his legs, eyeing the two lumps seated in front of him. The crowd had Draco on edge more than he would liked to have been. He only hoped it didn't show.
"Draco!" Crabbe said, and Draco felt some of his anxiety drip away. He never was sure the two other boys would remember who Draco was. Eight years of having to be reintroduced each time they met must have left a bad taste in Draco's mouth. "Long time, no see!" the smiling boy continued.
Draco arched an eyebrow. "Crabbe," he said. "I saw you not two weeks ago in Diagon Alley."
"Oh yeah, I forgot," remarked Crabbe. "Still. Two weeks is a long time, yeah?"
Draco just stared at him.
"S'pose," commented Goyle, and shrugged when Draco looked his way.
Draco felt his anxiety come back in full force. Forget two weeks! Draco's mind flashed urgently, it was going to be one long train ride. He'd planned on pulling Linky out and having her ward the door so he could brag about his personal house elf as loud as he pleased, but Draco remembered why it was a bad idea to tell Crabbe and Goyle any kind of secret. Especially one of the long term variety. After a few days they would just seem to forget that things were supposed to be secrets. Instead of trying to fill the silence with conversation, Draco rolled his eyes and pulled out his journal, putting on the perfect busy face and completely ignored whatever stupid banter the other two had going.
The journal really was the most interesting reading he'd done in awhile, and Draco was learning a lot about three people he never could figure out, but even this couldn't distract him once Goyle and Crabbe started noisily eating their candy. Draco tried to ignore them, but a particularly loud wrapper caused Draco to lose his cool. He snapped his journal shut and stood to stretch. Draco sneered at the other two with no effect for a moment before sighing and turning to peak out of their compartment.
As soon as Draco leaned toward the door, it was wrenched open and a short, hissing little thing stormed in through it. All three boys in the compartment were left gaping as the mess sorted itself into a small, pale, and immensely angry female who slid into the seat next to where Draco had been sitting.
"Harry Potter," the girl hissed at none of them in particular. "Can you believe it? Wetting themselves over something so awfully . . . typical. It's disgusting, is what it is."
"Excuse me?" asked Draco, eyebrows both arched high.
The girl seemed startled that there were other people around but quickly recovered. "Well, that's not really any of your business, is it," she sneered and pulled a small book out of the pockets of her robes and instantly began reading it.
"You're the one who came in here shouting!" Draco protested but received no reply whatsoever. Well, fine, thought Draco, two can play that game.
It was a good five minutes of trying to read over the candy wrappers and the fuming anger next to him before Draco finally broke.
He snapped his journal shut and towered over all of them. He pulled out his wand and spoke very slowly. "I will not tolerate such . . . distractions." Crabbe and Goyle blinked at him and slowly re-stuffed their pockets - which surely must have been charmed endless. Draco inwardly released the breath he'd held in and didn't even bother to roll his eyes. They were really the two Draco was worried about leaving, the girl could disappear right now and Draco wouldn't bat an eye. He might actually smile. "You . . . girl," Draco continued, feeling better. "You don't come into my compartment shouting about Harry Potter and then keep your big fat mouth shut about it, so tell me what you know or get out."
He raised his wand and she smirked. "What are you going to do with that?" she asked, drawing her own.
Draco felt his own face go hot and he opened his mouth to most likely say something stupid when suddenly a ton of sparks shot out of his wand.
The girl looked better than mollified, she looked terrified, and luckily she was too busying putting out her robes to notice how shocked Draco was by this turn of events. By the time she looked back toward him Draco had composed himself and was hoping he looked as if he'd meant to do it.
"Fine, crazy!" she snapped, her eyes wide. "I'll tell you."
And that was how Draco learned that Harry Potter was actually on the train that Draco was on . . . at the very same time and all.
Draco had kept telling himself Harry Potter would be at Hogwarts (they were the same age after all, and why wouldn't the boy go to Hogwarts?) but it was different to actually have his desires confirmed. This meant that Draco would have to do something about it.
Draco suddenly felt stupid for picking his journal over a bloody cloak of invisibility. Sod grades, Draco frantically thought, when he could have spied on Harry Potter.
It would have been so easy. Draco could have figured out everything the Boy-Who-Lived liked before they talked so he knew what was right to say. So Harry would have been jumping to be Draco's friend without much effort at all.
"Merlin . . ." muttered Draco, as he sat down and crossed his legs. What he really needed was Linky, but how could he get the others out without it seeming suspicious? Draco wondered. An idea struck him a moment later, and he called to Crabbe and Goyle saying, "you two, go replenish your stocks," Draco handed them some money, "and find out where the Boy-Who-Lived is sitting . . . and who with, if possible," Draco directed. "And keep my name out of it."
That, at least, Draco was confident they could do.
"Finally, some Draco quests," Crabbe smirked at Goyle and Goyle blushed, but left with Crabbe none the the same. So they still weren't too old to be bossed about and find it fun, Draco noted, thinking that this information would more than likely come in use many times in the near future.
Draco was then left with the girl. He opened his mouth to speak but was immediately cut off, which was always irritating. "You're Draco Malfoy," she said, easily ruining all plans he had of tossing her out with clean hands. "We've met. A few times actually."
Draco studied her. "Oh . . . yes," he agreed, "I suppose we have. You're . . . Parkinson's daughter . . . Petunia."
"It's Pansy."
"My apologies."
"Of course."
Draco really looked at her again. "You hate Potter, then, that much is clear . . . set to be in Slytherin, you think?"
"None other."
Draco thought for a moment. "What if . . . what if I made you a deal, could you keep a secret?" Draco asked her next.
She eyed him carefully for a moment then smirked. "Well, I never told on you and . . . what was that little boy's name?" she asked with a chuckle. "I can't remember . . . Cass or something like that?"
Draco could have died as soon as he registered the words that spilled from her curved lips. He didn't understand how he could have forgotten something like that.
"You never did?" asked Draco faintly.
"Why would I? We're on the same side. It can only benefit me to be nice to someone like you, that's what my parents would say anyway - not that I asked them, mind, I just know how they are."
Draco found his smirk. It seemed Parkinson senior had a lot in common with Draco's father. "I think this will work out lovely," he said, suddenly struck with confidence. "I need to befriend Potter. Think of how life as a Slytherin would be with Potter sorted with us."
"You're sure you don't just want to befriend Potter 'cause you like the looks of him and want to invite him to hump pillows with you in the closets of the Slytherin dorms?"
"Pansy!" Draco softly shrieked, her name flying off his tongue as memories rushed back to the forefront of his mind. A vulgar little whore, she was.
"What? It's a legitimate concern I have," explained Pansy without missing a beat.
"No need to be so-so vulgar!" hissed Draco.
"Says the pillow-humper," Pansy replied flatly.
"Merlin!" Draco shrieked loudly this time.
"Oh, don't be such a prude," she drawled. "I let Zabini hump me one time if it makes you feel any better."
It sort of did. "Zabini . . . really?" Draco had thought whore already, right?
"We were like eight."
Draco hummed.
"So, Potter?" Pansy inquired.
"Oh, yes!" replied Draco, too quickly, "I don't even know what Potter looks like!"
"So . . . you do like boys?"
"What?" Draco was genuinely thrown, but tried not to let his confusion show. "I like boys just fine. Wherever did you get the impression I didn't? Because I let you stay here and made them go? Well, you shouldn't be flattered about that. Goyle and Crabbe are just-"
"Of course. I suppose you have a plan then?" she cut in.
Draco blinked. The look on Pansy's face was familiar and irritating, but Draco couldn't remember what they were talking about so he answered her question. "I do have a plan actually but I will only tell it to you if you make an unbreakable vow."
"Seriously? Yes!" the girl hissed. "You know how to cast an unbreakable vow?" she added quickly.
"I don't actually, but now I know you're somewhat serious."
"Any more test you'd like me to pass, mi'lord?" she quipped.
"That isn't even funny." Draco sneered at her and she laughed.
Once the girl ceased all her terribly piggish squealing and properly righted herself, Draco proceeded to tell her of his plan - a plan the likes of which had been seen before only by his own mind's eye. It was terrifying. It was worse than the low buzzing sensation he got in the pit of his stomach while reading when his favorite characters were about to do something stupid-sometimes amazing but mostly just completely stupid-and, just like these characters, Draco was unable to stop himself. He did something he always told himself he would never do and spilled his thoughts to Pansy.
They were going to have Linky take Draco to the manor and get Draco's invisibility cloak so they could spy on Potter. They would use the information to form a friendship with the boy and then invite him to their compartment and charm him with whatever was needed-protection, candy, books on dark magic, clothes, blood sacrifices-until he was begging the sorting hat to put him in Slytherin.
"What about girls?" Pansy asked.
"What about girls?" Draco replied.
Pansy smirked for a long moment. "Nevermind," she drawled at last. "So, where's this elf then?"
Draco opened his coin purse and called for Linky to make a quiet appearance, please. She appeared in a swirl of silver and bowed nearly to the floor. "Master Draco," she greeted. "How is Linky being of service?"
"Linky is-" Draco abruptly cut himself off and glanced at Pansy, who was no longer focused on the elf but Draco instead.
"What is being the matter, master Draco?" Linky asked after a beat.
Draco instantly tried again. "Mas-" he fell silent and closed his eyes. Draco had to control his breathing and think. He held up a finger to his mouth so Linky would know to shut her mouth. The last thing Draco needed was for her to keep belting out that rubbish while he was trying to speak correctly. "I need Linky to be taking me-to take me to Malfoy Manor really quickly. I forgot something, but we have to be-to hurry and get back before the train is-gets too close," Draco explained at last.
"Is that the mouth you're planning on charming Harry Potter with?" questioned Pansy, just as Linky grabbed Draco's hand and they disappeared with a barely there crack.
The cloak was already gone from Draco's bed when they arrived in his room. Draco dragged Linky along with him for the scary trip to the black drawing room, but let go of her hand before they entered.
"Father," Draco greeted. "Mother."
"Draco." His father had an eyebrow raised. "So soon?"
"I think I made a bad decision. I want the cloak."
His father eyed him for a long moment then turned his gaze toward Draco's mother. Draco looked at her as she spoke. "Why did you chose the journal, Draco?"
Draco thought for a moment. "Because it was the best option at the time. I figured I was sneaky enough to sneak about that old castle by myself. I thought learning all your secrets and getting good grades were more important, I suppose."
"And that's changed?" his mother asked him.
"Sort of," Draco said. His mother looked at him blankly. "Fine," Draco relented. "There is someone. Harry Potter. He's on the train. I need the cloak to spy on him."
"And you're natural methods are suddenly failing you why?" his father cut in and Draco could only blink in reply. "You had confidence in them before, why not now, Draco?" he restated a moment later.
Draco thought that was pretty obvious. "It's Harry Potter," he said. "One doesn't just sneak up on Harry Potter."
His mother and father looked at him for a moment then turned to one another. A few seconds passed before Mrs. Malfoy cracked a devilish grin and began to laugh. Mr. Malfoy surprised Draco by joining in a few seconds later.
"Draco," his father chuckled finally, when Draco had just contemplated flooing Snape to come check the manor's water supply. "What do you think Harry Potter is? Some kind of God? He is nothing but a boy with magic, just like you." His father stood and strode to him. "Everything that was done to Harry Potter before he killed Lord Voldemort-the protection charms placed on him and the spells to enhance the birth magic within him-were most certainly done to you too. Had Lord Voldemort chose to attack us instead, you surely would have been the Boy-Who-Lived."
Draco shuddered. "Sounds awful."
"We thought so too," his mother said with a soft smile.
"You, Draco," his father started and laid a hand on Draco's shoulder, "are every bit as good as the Boy-Who-Lived, I assure you." His father took off toward the white hallway and called over his shoulder. "No cloak. Have fun at school, my dear boy," is what he said and then he was gone.
Draco turned with pleading eyes to his mother. "You will just have to charm him another way, I'm afraid," she said and sipped her tea. Draco found her so irritating sometimes. "I am going to miss you terribly, my dear, you know that?"
"I know, mother."
Draco returned to find Pansy blocking the compartment door and Goyle and Crabbe waiting on the other side.
"Did you get it?" Pansy asked him and he shook his head as he pulled out his coin purse and gestured for Linky to hop in.
As she disappeared with a swirl, Pansy threw the door open and let the other two inside.
"What happened?" Pansy asked before anyone could get a word in otherwise.
"Long story." Draco shrugged, not wanting to explain. "I can't bring the cloak yet. I don't know when I can. Boys," he turned to the others, "what is the word?"
"We found Potter," said Crabbe.
"He's with another boy, we hear," Goyle said.
"But not anyone I've ever heard of before," added Crabbe.
"That he can remember," reminded Goyle flatly.
"Good." Draco sat so he could think for a minute. "We'll see what we can find out on the way over. Both can come back with us if need be and Goyle and Crabbe can stand guard - in another compartment or something," he announced at last and turned to Pansy for her approval.
"Pansy be liking this plan," she agreed with a cheeky grin and Draco felt himself grow hot enough to die on the spot.
"Zabini ate a worm once, you know," Draco hissed but Pansy only began to laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes."
They had a brief hang up when they stepped out of the compartment and realized they were now at the front of the train.
"Goyle?" Draco questioned, looking around. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"He wasn't sure if there was something up with it," protested Crabbe.
"Yeah," Goyle offered with a patchy red blush. "But Vince said don't worry about. That you probably knew."
"I did know something would happen," Draco agreed with a smirk. "Though, I wasn't sure what. Charmed to enter through the back and exit through the front, you think, Pans?"
"I'd say." Pansy pointed to the blank wall that now covered where they'd exited from. "What is this 'Pans' business?" she added as she started to push them down the passage. "They get their last names, but I'm stuck with 'Pans?'"
"Yes." Draco nodded.
"You, Draco Malfoy," she started, "are one qu-strange, boy. Very, very strange."
"Thank you," Draco replied sincerely, she thought at least, but then he added, "now who has the impediment, hm?"
"Certainly, Draco," she assured; instead of reacting like he'd wanted her to. "Certainly."
The Potter plan was going better than expected by the time they reached the cart the boy supposedly rode in. Draco had overheard a bushy-haired, obviously mudblood girl asking what was so special about Harry Potter who was clearly just a baby when he defeated this Voldemort person? and Draco had stopped to reply but a herd of squealing girls came to his defence before Draco had a chance. Their protests told Draco a lot though. He learned the Boy Who Lived had green eyes and dark black hair, shaggy so that it modestly covered his scar.
Pansy and Draco had their first argument as they walked there. She thought that Potter would take better to her and Draco going in alone and talking to him. Draco thought the boy would rather Draco appear with Crabbe and Goyle. Draco quickly won because he actually had reasons behind his choice, unlike Pansy who just gave Draco a strange look and then blinked a few times. Dense, that one. Of course a boy who has a threat of death hanging over him from dark wizards everywhere would want to surround himself with people who could protect him. It only made sense.
Pansy agreed to wait outside and then told him that Potter was going to be sorted into Gryffindor right as Draco made to enter the boy's compartment, but . . .
Draco forgot his anger completely as he pulled open the door and two large, magnified green eyes came into focus, followed shortly the most unfortunate looking boy Draco had ever seen. Draco suddenly felt hot, remembering a month ago when he'd first met this boy while purchasing his school robes. In the shop, he'd been reminded of Snape when Draco first saw the dark, brooding little thing of a boy, and figured the other was sure to be sorted into Slytherin with Draco . . . but the boy had turned out to be just as big a tosser as Draco's godfather, too.
Draco swallowed down the solid air that suddenly clogged his throat and opened his mouth to speak.