Chapter Six

Draco watched as the team of elves finished bringing in his luggage.

"Just set them by the door. I can unpack myself," he said, watching as they visibly wilted. House-elves did love to be useful, and he had just denied them one of their chief pleasures.

"Is sir sure?" a particularly small female elf asked. She had large brown eyes and a tiny pillbox hat placed on her head at a jaunty angle. The hat managed to match her yellow tea towel perfectly.

"Yes, I believe I can manage," Draco said impatiently. He wanted them gone so he could have time to himself finally. As much as he played the part of the braggart, the true Draco often needed time to himself to recharge his batteries. It had been a strain, even more so than usual but he had played his part perfectly, and now he was ready to relax the act. He also had several things to think about, and plan, and he didn't need any more interruptions.

He was glad that he had opted to lease a private room for the school year. It would be essential in maintaining the secrecy of his task. Private rooms in Slytherin house were only extended to sixth and seventh year students. That is if they had the coin to afford the privilege. There were four private rooms in total, and they went to the highest bidder. Some former, enterprising Slytherin head of house, Draco didn't trouble himself to find out how long ago, had realized an opportunity when he saw one.

The Hogwarts dungeons were vast, and because of this Slytherin House actually had the largest lodgings in the castle. They had all of the same rooms that the other houses had like the common room, boys and girls wings, and prefect quarters, but Slytherin House was in a class of its own. There was also a library, several different types of fitness rooms, a music room with a piano, two additional common rooms, and even a kitchen that was only rarely used. Many a Slytherin had held back a condescending laugh when they were pitied for living in the Hogwarts Dungeons. Snape was also known to turn a blind eye to co-ed shared rooms if it would benefit himself, either financially or otherwise, as long as the lease holder was discreet in his activities.

The private rooms were in a wing of their own, nicknamed Serpent Hall. The hall had its own common room that could only be used by the current lease holders and whatever guest that they deemed worthy of a visit.

The private rooms were actually more like tiny flats. Each had a small living area with stairs that lead to the bedroom, a fully functional kitchenette, and a bathroom with an adjoining loo. There were no actual windows of course, since they were located in the dungeons after all, instead the rooms boasted artificial windows charmed to display whichever view the boarder wanted to see. The rooms were all blank canvases so to speak. Each had typical the stone walls and basic furniture. The walls were charmed to change color to whatever the lease holder wanted. The lease holder could also bring items, as long as they took said items home at the end of the year. In addition to the leasing fee a security deposit was required in case of damage. Professor Snape made a tidy sum just from leasing the four rooms every year.

"Wingardium Leviosa," Draco said, pointing his wand toward his trunks. The luggage obediently followed him upstairs to his bedroom. The room was decently sized, though in no way as large as his room at home. He pointed his wand at the trunks once more, and they settled gently to the ground. Items began to remove themselves, some folding neatly before settling into one of the drawers, or floating to the open closet door. It was going to be nice not having to live out of his trunks for a change.

The bed, he was glad to note, wasn't a large four poster. It was a king size platform bed, done in a rich mahogany tone that matched the set of drawers. There was a nice pillow top mattress just waiting to be made.

Draco half wished that he had allowed the elves to make the bed and do the moving chores for him, but he valued his privacy much more.

After his clothes were stored, he made his bed, with thousand count Egyptian sheets in a medium blue, over which he placed a charcoal toned goose down comforter. Draco didn't spare any expense on his bed. He figured since a person spent roughly a third of their life sleeping, well, it made sense to make it a luxury. Also he didn't plan to be alone in it every night if he had anything to say about it.

He pulled the small box containing his Room of Requirement from his trunk, enlarging the door before attaching it to his bedroom wall. He would take the time later to explore its capabilities.

Downstairs, he opened a box from his mother. Inside were things he wouldn't have thought himself to buy. There were coffee cups, plates, saucers, glasses, tableware, pots, pans, a teakettle, dishtowels, and an oven mitt. She had also included dish soap and a dish drain.

There was a note nestled in the side of the box. He unfolded the note to find his mother's distinct flowing script.

Draco,

Since you wouldn't agree to my sending you a personal house elf to see to your needs while at school, I have included everything that I think that you will need to start the year. Please let me know If I have forgotten anything. I have arranged for groceries to be delivered at the first of each week. You need only let the grocers know if there is something more or different that you desire, but I believe that all of the basics should already be in your pantry.

Please take care of yourself, my son, and write often.

Love,

Mother

"How much cooking does she think I'm going to be doing?" he asked out loud. He couldn't remember a time that his mother had made anything herself other than tea. Narcissa Malfoy let her house-elves do the cooking and cleaning around Malfoy Manor, even if she had wanted to the house was far too large.

Walking to the pantry he found it stocked with many different food items, and in the refrigerator were perishable items. He was glad that his mother had thought ahead. Now he didn't even have to worry about grocery shopping.

That was something that people didn't understand about his mother. They saw her cool beauty, and rigid manner and thought that she was immediately a stuck up cold person. Though she could be that person to some degree, those people weren't allowed the privilege of seeing her caring, thoughtful side. Even though they did have servants and the like, Narcissa had always been a true mother. Kissing his scrapes and telling him fantastical stories that had him starry eyed with wonder. It was only in the presence of his father, or visitors, that the blank society mask returned.

Shaking off his musings, he turned his mind toward décor, deciding not to do much to the room other than tenting the walls a calming blue tone.

He took a shower, then sat on his sofa in front of a crackling fire. His mind wandered back to his encounter with Taryn Davis.

The girl was the poster child for mixed signals. The encounter on the train wasn't the first time they had ever spoke, but it was the first time a conversation with the witch had ever stuck with him. The Tracey Davis he remembered, while pretty, was nothing to run and tell anyone about. She had always been rather quiet, keeping to herself, content to stay on the fringes of Pansy's group. He figured the only reason that she had even been allowed there was because she happened to room with Pansy.

Pansy was actually far more the snob than Draco had ever pretended to be. She only befriended anyone less than pureblood if it was going to suit her in some way. Everyone knew that Taryn's father was loaded, he even put the Malfoy fortune to shame. The fact that he had so much money, well it opened doors that would have remained closed to the half-blood otherwise.

Draco didn't know what was drawing him to Taryn now, but the witch definitely had his attention after that display in the Great Hall. He had wanted to stride down the table toward her, knock the dishes aside and spread her on the conveniently emptied space. Judging from the hot looks she had been sending him, she didn't seem adverse to the idea. He would have to make sure that she knew the score.

Draco didn't do girlfriends. To put it bluntly, he had fuck buddies. Pansy was actually the only girl that he had been with for any length of time. It was probably her proximity. Their fathers were great friends and Draco and Pansy had practically grown up together. They had even lost their virginity together when they were fourteen, at least Pansy was under the impression that he had lost his to her as well.

Pansy was good in the sack, but she wanted more that he was willing to give. If it were up to her they would be engaged and married directly after graduation. He would shit bricks before that happened. He knew Pansy. He didn't kid himself believing that she wanted him for himself. No, Pansy could get more turned on at the thought of becoming a Malfoy than for a good shag. Not that she didn't enjoy a good shag as well, but with Pansy it all had strings.

He had broke it off with her after she started talking marriage around his fifteenth birthday. She had hounded him for months afterward trying to get back together, finally retreating in a sulk after he shagged Alexandria Emery. Many a wizard had wanted Alexandria, and he had been frankly flattered that she had looked at him, sending him sultry glances for weeks before leading him to an empty classroom. Draco never thought of chocolate syrup the same way afterward.

Alexandria had seemingly lost her hair shortly thereafter. Draco knew that Pansy had had a hand in it, and frankly it both amused and pissed him off. Amusement at her audacity, and anger at the thought of her scaring away a willing witch. She seemed to think that he was her property.

It didn't help that he sometimes took her up on a shag if he felt the need and she was handy. Every time they had sex she thought that they were back on track, and of course, was disappointed when it didn't happen. He didn't feel sorry for the witch. He had been straight with her. He told her that he didn't want a relationship and that it was strictly casual.

Besides, Pansy had her own share of lovers, and was never too long without a replacement. The real problem was that she didn't want him to have a replacement. He both hated and valued the sentiment. If he was being honest, it probably kept many of the other girls from getting marriage ideas as well. It was well known that Pansy was very vindictive when she thought someone was infringing on her territory.

Perhaps that was why Taryn had never shown an interest in him before. She was a good looking girl, and he wouldn't have turned her down for a shag if offered. He hadn't tried, mostly because he didn't want the hassle and also because she had always seemed kind of...well...meek. Not that the had spent time exchanging much beyond pleasantries with the girl, but now she was different.

What puzzled him most was Taryn's complete turnaround from her earlier attitude. The looks she had sent him were pretty fucking sexy, but Draco was leery of the quick about face. She was attracted to him, he knew, but he had thought that a bit of seduction was in order. It seemed that the witch wanted to be the seducer, and the Slytherin in him was fully amenable to taking advantage of the situation. He'd let her think that she was in control, while in actuality he was the one pulling all of the strings. While he did have an important task to complete for Voldemort, he was still a sixteen year old boy. If Taryn was going to throw it his way, well then, he was going to take it.

The alarm he had set on his wand woke him at three in the morning, accompanied by the artificial sun lightening his windows.

Draco had always had trouble rising in the morning, but he wasn't going to let himself get out of shape, even though he didn't know when he would have the time for his next fight.

Exercise in the morning really started his day. He didn't feel entirely awake if he skipped his workout, even though he would have to go through a slightly different routine here than the one he maintained at home. While residing at the Manor, it was easy to slip away to the gym to get in his workout. Here he would have to go about it differently.

He felt better and better about his decision to get a solo room. Now he didn't have to make excuses for how early he woke in the morning to grumpy roommates and he could amp his workout to the level that he was used to working.

He stumbled into his bathroom, washing his face and brushing his teeth before slipping into a pair of black gym shorts and a gray ribbed tank. Downstairs he made himself a bowl of oatmeal with raisins and a protein powder that didn't taste too bad, alternating sips of orange juice between bites of oatmeal.

He took the time to wash his dish. He would be cleaning after himself. He had already arranged the house elves to only come to his room to pick up his laundry bags on Friday mornings. They were told to only get the laundry, and not to touch anything else in the room.

Walking back toward the attached door he stepped inside and was immediately impressed.

The room was huge. He figured he could run his own damn MMA classes out of the room if he wanted.

The floor was covered in dark blue high density padding and clearly marked sparring areas. There were several heavy bags and one corner was obviously dedicated to weight training. The walls were painted a pale beige color and one wall was completely mirrored. The air even smelled clean and fresh, almost as if there were opened windows in the room.

"There is even a bloody treadmill," Draco muttered to himself in amazement.

He went through a series of warm ups before moving on to a sparring partner that the room provided, landing punishing strikes to the figure he had decided to call Mort. It was odd how much the figure looked and felt like a real person. The thing actually seemed to breathe and sweat. Only the eyes told the tale. They were completely blank, and slightly creepy, so Draco didn't feel bad at all for kicking the shit out of Mort. He made a mental note to himself to raise Mort's difficulty level, because while it was nice having a sparring partner, if Mort didn't give him a challenge then it wasn't a workout. At home he usually worked out at least four hours a day, but at school it was harder. He did two hours before class and two hours before bed if he had the time after finishing his schoolwork.

He had to maintain control over at least this tiny aspect of his life. So much else was being decided for him, he felt like training and keeping his body in peak condition was his calm in the storm.

It seemed that with the Dark Lord's return the time of relative tranquility within the Malfoy home was gone. Following the Dark Lord had changed his Lucius. He had never been an extremely demonstrative man, but even the little shows of appreciation had disappeared behind a polite mask.

Now that he had taken the mark, Draco knew that that mask could hide a wealth of seething emotion.

The only other thing that calmed him, well, that was going to take some delicate maneuvering. His next conquest lived with his ex. It would make for some interesting situations, he predicted.

After his workout he had just enough time to shower, dress, and gather his books for class.

Draco's road to MMA was a strange one. Lucius had had his only son in sports starting at the age of five. Draco had been involved in wrestling, fencing, horseback riding, and later boxing. He hadn't minded. Draco had always been athletic, the kind of child that played outside until forced inside by his mother at the end of the day. Also it had been some of the only times that he was able to spend with his father. Lucius had always been involved as well, watching him carefully for progression, at least until Draco's second year of Hogwarts. By then Lucius had been embroiled in various plots to bring back the Dark Lord, and the time they spent together grew less and less.

He had never understood why his father had insisted on such physical pursuits. Perhaps it was because Draco had always been a little high strung. Physical activity had always channeled his excess energy and brought him peace. He figured that was why he was a natural at mixed martial arts. The sheer physicality appealed to him at an intrinsic level. He didn't know what it said about himself that pounding a blokes face in had a calming affect on his psyche.

Draco had met Jeff Leonard quite by accident. He had slipped away from a stupid charity event that his mother and father patronized, and insisted that he attend. He hated society events. They were all see and be seen. Who is married to whom? Who is cheating on their spouse? Whose child is the most accomplished? That last bit always angered him. No matter what he did or how hard he tried he could never please his father. It got to the point where he wanted to stop trying, but he could never bring himself completely there. Lucius was his father after all, and it had been ingrained in him from birth to strive to uphold the Malfoy name, but the pressure at times was immense.

He had slipped out of a side door, boldly striding through the street, ignoring the occasional curious glance. Once out of the wizarding district, he threw his dress robes into a dumpster, grateful for the dark trousers and shirt he wore beneath.

He had wondered the streets for hours, and if anyone thought it odd to see a thirteen year old boy walking alone at such a late hour, his angry eyes warned them away.

It was on a street of warehouses where he discovered his home away from home.

He watched as an exceedingly long line of people moved steadily through a large pair of metal doors, a few grumpy people being turned away. It was strange, to him, the groupings of people. There were women dressed in elegant, and sometimes shockingly revealing dresses, escorted by men in sharp suits. At odds with this dress code were the men dressed in sweats and gym gear. Those men varied in size, but each one looked just as deadly as the one behind him.

Draco was already tall for his age, though still obviously young, joined the end of the line, ignoring the amused looks sent his way. He patiently waited, his curiosity getting the better of him. He knew that this was some kind of fight club. The cauliflower ears and busted noses on some of the men attested to the fact. He had to get inside.

When he reached the doorway, he tried to slip past the bouncer, but was stopped by a meaty paw on his shoulder.

"This ain't no romper room kid. Get outta here," a gruff, American accented voice said. Draco looked up into the eyes of the biggest man, other than Hagrid, that he had ever seen. And the bloke was a Muggle! His face looked like it was made of stone, but he had keen looking brown eyes under a heavy brow. His ears were huge, the cauliflower ears changing the shape considerably.

"Good, because that would bore me," Draco said in reply, pushing bravado into his voice. This man had nothing on Lucius, who dealt it out like mother's milk, in the intimidation department.

The man, Jeff, looked at him a moment before bursting into laughter. "You're funny kid, but this ain't no place for children," he said wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "You got a lot of balls to showing up, but you'll need more than that to make it around here."

Draco pulled out his wallet, thankful that his mother made sure that he always had both Muggle and wizard funds. He pulled out five hundred pound notes from a thick wad. "How much is it going to cost me to get in?" he asked.

Jeff whistled. "Damn, kid, don't you know better than flashing blunt like that around here? You're gonna get yourself mugged, or worse. Good you came to my place. Hey Rico!" he yelled into the doorway, "Get your ass out here and watch the door! I got some shit to take care of."

"Damn, man, I'm coming. Keep your fucking pants on!" a deeply accented voice said. Draco was surprised to see that the voice belonged to a small Latino boy, about a few years older than he was. That was were the similarities ended.

Ricardo "Rico" Kovalic was the product of a multiracial Brazilian mother and a half Russian half Asian father. It had given the kid an almost pretty look, something Draco could unfortunately identify with. Rico had thick curly dark hair, golden toned skin, and large thickly lashed brown eyes that seemed to draw you in. Draw you in just close enough for him to kick your ass that is. He knew that his features were delicate, only his musculature keeping from an effeminate look. That fact had caused him to demonstrate more than once just how deadly he could be.

Rico had grown up poor in the one of slums of Rio, his mother giving birth to him at only fourteen years old. A teenage mother with no drive and precious little common sense, his mother had lost herself in misery after his father left her, cocaine her only solace. The prostitution that she used to buy her drug of choice only seemed to push her deeper into her self-made abyss, and she had neglected her only child often.

One day when he was just seven years old, his mother never returned home. By then he was used to her many absences and it was days before he began to worry. It was only after he discovered her small bundle of clothes missing that he realized that he would probably never see his mother again. After the small bit of money that she left folded under the sugar bowl had dried up, Rico was forced to leave the little shack he called home. He had wondered the streets for days, dodging the pimps that wanted to use him for his pretty face.

It was sheer luck, or hunger rather, that drove him to steal from a small home. He had his ass handed to him by the grandson of the owner of the home. Matheus Brito had taken pity on the small child, feeding him and eventually adopting him and training him in Brazilian Jiujitsu and Judo alongside his own grandson Leo.

Leo and Rico had been like brothers, Leo being one year older. When Matheus died when they were eleven and twelve respectively, the boys had tried to keep up with the finances around the home, but Rico again found himself homeless. Tragedy joined homelessness when Leo died a year later. It was a gunshot wound to the head that had taken his brother from him. Leo had been desperate to take care of both himself and his brother. He had known that they would most likely be separated if they went into Child Protective Services, so he had reluctantly joined one of the many gangs that riddled the area. He had been shot to death within a month of joining.

Rico had spent the next two or so years working one hustle after another to gain money. He had resisted joining one of the gangs and as a result had to move often to keep from being killed in retaliation for infringing on someone's territory. Finally he decided to use what he had learned, earning money and gaining underground fame fighting bouts against much older fighters. He had always had an edge because fighting to him meant survival not just money in his pocket.

Eventually he made his way out of Brazil and all the way to London, where he found himself working as an quasi assistant to Jeff Leonard.

It amused Jeff that such a delicately featured boy was such a fucking savage when it came to fighting. Maybe that was why he gave Draco a chance that day. He saw that same spirit in the kid's grey eyes.

"What the fuck is this?" Rico said eying Draco. "You gonna let this little kid in here?"

"I'm not a kid," Draco said angrily, "Besides, how can you fucking talk? What are you like fifteen?"

Rico looked into the air to his left and drew in a breath before smiling a truly chilling smile at Draco. "Jeff, this kid your friend or what? Tell me now, because one word otherwise and I'm going to fuck him up," Rico said quietly, his tone now different from if he was talking about the weather.

"Don't lose your shit Rico. I gave you a chance. This kid deserves one too if I wanna fucking give it to him," Jeff said.

Rico looked at Jeff for a moment, giving a sharp nod, before turning back to Draco. Turning back quickly, he lunged at Draco, stopping himself short before actually touching the other boy. He was disappointed when Draco didn't even flinch.

"Ahahaha," Jeff laughed, "See? The kid's got more spirit than you think. Just man the door for a bit, and I'll send out Rob to relieve you," he said.

Rico glared at Draco. " Just stay out of my way Cabrao," he said before turning and striding to the doors.

Draco's eyes narrowed. He knew that Rico had just called him something very unpleasant. "What did he call me?" he hissed as Jeff steered him away from the door.

"Don't mind Rico, he's the least of your worries kid. By the way, what's your name?"

Draco thought for a moment. "Ryu," he said quietly. It was true enough. Draco meant dragon and so did Ryu.

Jeff's brow rose. The kid looked more like a Dexter or some other pretentious sounding name. He shrugged. "Okay, Ryu. This is Stygian Gym. We train in mixed martial arts including, but not limited to, jiujitsu, kickboxing, wrestling, muay thai, taekwondo, judo, and anything else I feel like throwing in. I own this shit, but I don't teach every class. The little savage at the door teaches Brazilian jiujitsu to some of the beginners."

That asshole actually taught people? Draco was astonished. He didn't think he had met anyone less likely to be anyone's mentor.

Jeff laughed at Draco's expression. "He ain't that bad. He is just prickly. Anyway, going on," he said showing Draco several workout rooms, stopping in one to tell an equally beefy man, who Draco assumed to be Rob to go man the doors. He finally lead him to a large room that was quickly filling with observers. At the center of the room was an octagon like cage. It was obviously the "ring" where the matches were conducted.

The lights in the large room were slightly dim, making the vivid light on the cage even more arresting.

The mat was a lemon yellow color with Stygian Gym in stark black lettering printed across. The walls were painted black, adding a bit of mystery and danger. You couldn't see exactly every detail, and while that made Draco nervous, he wasn't nervous enough to leave.

The cage was actually lower than the circular wooden bleachers surrounding it. People in finery and street clothes alike, sat elbow to elbow, prejudices temporarily abandoned in for the frenzy of the upcoming bout.

There were people working the crowd, selling drinks and snacks. Money was everywhere, being exchanged for goods and turned in for bets.

"While we do teach and train here," Jeff continued, "this is where my fighter's make a lot of their money. This isn't sanctioned and definitely not legal, but people pay to attend and the fighter's can make a lot of money pretty quick. It ain't legal, but I make sure all the fighters that come in here get tested for blood borne shit, because there's gonna be bloodshed. Hell, I'm in here too, and I'm sure as fuck not getting anything from one of these bastards. Anyway, my club and a bunch of others around the city pit our best fighter's against each other in a competition that we call The Circuit. Every fighter that enters the cage gets paid a flat rate, but the winner gets double. We go by weight class usually, but if a fighter thinks that he can go up, well then we leave that decision to him, but usually only the wannabe's go out of class. Some of my fighters go on to legit careers, and some just stay here. Blue collar and white collar by day, and brawler by night," Jeff said on a chuckle.

Draco wanted badly to join, right at that moment. "How much to join?" he asked. As with most wealthy people, he assumed that the right price would get him instant entrance.

"Slow down kid," Jeff said, "Have a seat and watch a fight before you decide."

Jeff had already decided to let the kid join if he still wanted to after he saw his first bout. He saw something of himself in the kid. Despite his expensive clothes, the kid was lost. You could clearly see the emotion in the kid's grey eyes. Besides, people usually had one of two reactions after seeing a real Stygian bout. They either pissed/puked/fainted before running out of the gym never to be seen again. Or, more rarely, the fight kindled within them a fierce need to compete, to push themselves to their limit, to the realization that this was exactly what they were born to do. If the kid was one of the latter, well Jeff would let him try it out.

Draco nodded, finding a seat in the third row from the bottom. He settled down, ignoring the heat that was accumulating from all the bodies entering the room. He was almost vibrating with excitement as he watched two men walk into the room and enter the cage. They were both huge, definitely heavyweights. One was a dark Black man with dreads drawn into a low ponytail wearing blue shorts. The other was a White man, his brown hair slicked into a wickedly pointed Mohawk, was wearing yellow shorts with a black stripe going down the sides.

The White man looked a little older, more rugged, possibly in his mid thirties. The Black man was perhaps in his early twenties, and still baby faced. They both bounced on the balls of their feet, before each going to an opposite corner of the cage.

Jeff strode out of the room returning with a smaller man, wearing a suit. He handed the man a strange Muggle device. Draco didn't know then that it was a microphone.

The man in the suit, who had an amazingly Weasley-like shock of ginger hair, strode into the cage, stopping directly in the center. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to The Circuit's light heavyweight championship bout. My name is Scott Field and I'll be your announcer and commentator this evening. The doors have been closed. You know the rules, if you leave you're not getting back in again, so get cozy. Our referee tonight is Jared Markham," he said nodding to a wiry Indian man who had just entered the cage. "This bout will consist of five five minute rounds. The usual rules apply. Now, in the red corner, wearing blue shorts is the challenger Jake Morgan. Jake is a twenty-three year old Brazilian jiujitsu and kickboxing practitioner, standing at 6'5" and 14.5 stone. He is represented by Impact Gym."

Jake stood, flexing his muscles a calm look of determination on his face.

"In the blue corner we have our current Light Heavyweight Champion Willy Brock. Willy is a thirty-one year old wrestling, kickboxing, and judo practitioner. He stands and 6'3", weighing in at 14.6 stone, represented by Stygian Club," Scott finished, leaving the cage to sit with three other men at a nearby table.

The crowd at gone steadily louder and Draco couldn't make out what the referee said as he and the fighters made their way to the center of the cage. He leaned forward as the watched the fighters begin to circle each other.

"Just watch the fight kid, and listen to the commentator," Jeff said as he slid onto the bench beside Draco.

His hands on his knees, he watched avidly as the fighters traded blows.

Jeff watched, not the fight, but the boy as the fight played out. Even when Jake's elbow opened a cut on Willy's face, the boy didn't flinch, his gaze engrossed on the fight. His attention only left the cage when the scantily clad ring card girl worked the crowd, her metallic silver bikini barely covering the only the important bits.

The fight when on and on, and finally Jake, in a surprising move, was able to get Willy pinned next to the fence, his fist bringing down punishing the blows that ended the bout in a knockout.

Draco was forced to stand as the crowd began to disperse. He followed Jeff to the side of the room.

"Wait here kid, I'll be back in a second. Don't move," Jeff said motioning Draco to a seat against the wall. It seemed that most of the spectators were either getting cashing in their bets, or trying to get closer to the fighters for an autograph or a word or two.

Draco leaned his head back against the wall. That had been the most exhilarating thing that he had ever seen in his life. The excitement that thrummed through his veins was heady, far more than when he dueled with wands, and it didn't have the sense of requirement that always accompanied the sports that his father expected of him. This was more...primal. Competition at is most basic level. Man pitted against man, one being forced to submit under another superior fighter. The control aspect, for Draco who had very little control over his own life, certainly appealed.

"You seem a little out of your element," a soft feminine voice said, breaking him out of his reverie.

Draco stiffened, turning his grey gaze to the left. It was the ring card girl in all her eye catching glory, her long curling black hair reaching her waist, large brown eyes trained on him. She pulled a pair of wire framed glasses from the wristlet on her arm, perching them on her nose. She went immediately from sexy bikini girl to sexy bikini/perhaps sexy librarian girl.

Draco swallowed, staring. He didn't see many women so, well, revealed. He wondered why she was talking to him.

He goggled at her for a full minute, blushing under the smile that appeared on her face. "I'm Dra—Er, Ryu," he finally said, cursing himself at his lameness. He made the conscious effort to keep his eyes on her face, and from sliding down her body. Being that he was only thirteen, he failed of course, but was grateful when she was polite enough to ignore it.

"Hi, Ryu. I'm Stephanie," she said shaking his hand. "You mind if I wait here with you? My boyfriend is otherwise occupied," she said nodding toward Willy Brock, who was getting tended by a medic.

"Not at all," Draco said, the manners his mother had forced him to learn finally kicking in.

Stephanie sat in the chair next to him. She pulled a tie from her wristlet, securing her hair into a messy ponytail.

"You date Mr. Brock? He won't mind you talking to me?" Draco asked, curiously. She seemed a lot younger than the man, but older than he was, about eighteen or nineteen he would guess. He didn't want any shit with the huge man, who even if he had just lost his title, could render him into a pile of mush on the floor

"Mr. Brock?" Stephanie asked giggling, "No, he is really a big teddy bear, and I doubt that he would mind me talking with you," she said her tone clearly stating that a boy Draco's age wouldn't inspire jealousy.

Draco bristled. He knew he was younger, but after that comment he couldn't even pretend that the girl would be interested, and he doubted that Willy Brock was a teddy bear. He'd never seen a teddy bear throw vicious strikes like that.

Stephanie touched his shoulder gently. "Oh, hon, I didn't mean it like that. I bet in a few years you will be breaking hearts left and right. You are a handsome boy, er, guy. What are you doing here anyway?"

Draco was slightly mollified at her compliment. "I'm going to join Stygian," Draco said determinedly.

Stephanie's brow rose in disbelief. She hadn't known Jeff to let anyone younger than Rico join, and that had only been because Rico didn't have many people that were equal to him in technique. Jeff must have a soft spot for the kid. "You sure, Ryu? This place isn't a walk in the park."

"You don't think I can do it?" Draco asked in irritation.

"No, that's not it. I just have a brother about your age, and well, I would want someone to talk to him if he was going to be at a place like this," Stephanie said in concern.

"You're here," Draco said in retort.

"Yeah I know. This is paying for uni for me. It beats working as a waitress or at a fast food place, and Willy is here," Stephanie said, shrugging.

"What are going to school for?" Draco asked.

"Well, contrary to what my attire might suggest, I'm actually majoring in business. Willy and I eventually want to open our own gym. He is going to train fighters and I'll handle the business end."

"That sounds like a good plan," Draco said. "I hope it happens for you."

"Thanks, sugar," she said standing, "Well it looks like Willy is about finished up. You wanna meet him or something?"

"Really?" Draco said, excitement coloring his voice.

"Sure," she said as Willy walked up to them. His face was swollen like a pumpkin, but still he leaned down kissing Stephanie softly on her temple, before twining one brawny arm around her waist, bringing her closer.

"Hey, sweetie, this is Ryu. He is thinking about joining Stygian," Stephanie said.

Willy looked down at Draco in consideration. "You think you got what it takes?" he said, his voice a low American drawl.

"I do, sir." Draco said decisively.

Willy nodded. The kid had spirit at least. "This isn't just girls, money, and glory, man. You are gonna get hit, and its gonna fucking hurt. Days like today happen. You get your ass handed to you. You leave the cage the loser and losing feels like sucking a thousand dicks with your mom watching. Think you can handle that? Or the dedication that its gonna take? I teach here too, and if you end up in my class half assed shit won't cut it."

Draco cut a look at Stephanie, wondering if she minded Willy's crude analogy. She just shrugged, obviously used to his colorful language. Draco felt that he had better get used to the language if he was going to join the sport. "I'll give it all I have. Failure is something that I know about, but I've never let it stop me before. If I get to train here, and hopefully with you sir, then I'll give it my best. I'll put in the time, whatever it takes."

"You'll do," Willy said slapping him on the back, and almost knocking him off of his feet. "You have some growing to do though. You will definitely get it here. If Jeff approves you, then I better see you in my class," he said, slinging an arm over Stephanie's shoulder, and walking away.

"See you around, Ryu," Stephanie called behind.

"Come on kid," Jeff said coming up behind him. "We'll go to my office and you can tell me why I should let you train here."

Draco followed Jeff to his office, which turned out to be not much more than a tiny closet with just enough room for a metal desk, office chair, file cabinet, and one chair in front of said desk. Jeff motioned him into the chair facing the desk.

Jeff sat down, leaning back in the chair, and slamming his booted feet on the desk. "So, why should you be here. You'd be the youngest to ever get in. Even Rico is fifteen, going on sixteen. Why should I take a chance on you?"

"I'll dedicate myself to training, and well, this might sound weird but I just feel comfortable here. I have a lot of useless shit in my life, and this would be the only thing that I ever really wanted, that I could choose for myself," Draco said, desperation in his voice. He had to get in. He just had to.

"This place ain't cheap kid. We put out the best fighters, despite the loss you saw tonight. A lot of guys have been waiting for months just to train here. If I let you in you're gonna get a lot of shit from the other guys. You're gonna have to train with older, experienced, bigger guys," Jeff said, laying it all down for the boy.

"Money isn't a problem. As far as the other guys, I can take it. Just please, please, give me a chance."

Jeff frowned. "I should probably be shot for this, but okay. I need a grand upfront as a down payment when you come for your first day. Non-refundable, even if you pussy out later."

"Fine. When can I start?" Draco asked.

Damn, the kid had a one track mind. "Monday. I don't think the schools are in session yet, so I want you here at eight at the latest, Monday through Thursday," he watched Draco's brow crinkle. "Is that gonna be a problem kid?"

It was going to take some creative maneuvering to get out of breakfast with his mother. Lucius was usually at the office by then, but Narcissa liked to take breakfast with her only child one the days that she wasn't involved with some sort of function. At least he had a week to come up with an excuse. "No, but I go to, erm, boarding school from September to June. I get out on Easter and Christmas hols."

Jeff's brow rose. Rich kid, he thought. "That's on you kid. You are going to have to be the one to find ways to train outside of the club, and believe me you'll make sure that you do if you want to get any kind of skill in this sport. Either way, you still have to pay club dues to keep your membership."

"So, I'm in?" Draco asked grinning.

"Yeah, you are in kid," Jeff sighed.

"Yeah!" Draco whooped.

"Just be here Monday. With money," Jeff added.

Draco nodded, before standing up to leave the room. He hurried out of the club, ducking into a nearby ally to Apparate back to his parents event. He had thought that he was going to have to explain his absence, but they hadn't even noticed him being gone in the crush of the crowd!

…

Draco used all of his Slytherin cunning in arranging to be able to attend his training sessions. His mother was under the impression that he was in an amateur rugby league with Crabble and Goyle. Of course, he didn't actually tell Crabble and Goyle where he was really going. The two barely had a brain cell in between them, and he couldn't chance them letting any details slip. Instead he just threatened them with exposure of some of their own escapades.

He had had a moment of panic, and thought that the ruse would be discovered when his mother questioned the cost of the "rugby" club dues.

"Its helps to maintain the grounds and such mother," he had said.

"Maybe I should go and visit with the coach. It would settle my mind to have a chat with him," Narcissa had said.

Draco had nearly swallowed his tongue. "Mother, you can't do that. You will make me look like a little kid. Nobody else is going to have their mother wandering around. They'll laugh at me!" He pushed a bit of whine into his voice.

Narcissa had sighed indulgently. Her little boy was growing up so fast. "Okay, fine. I won't come and visit, but If I see anything out of the ordinary you won't be playing for long," she said, settling the manner.

Relief had made Draco nearly boneless. How very close his dream had been to ending, and not even before it had properly began.

...

He spent his entire Saturday before training scouring Muggle shops for all the items on the list of equipment that he would need for training. Since he didn't know if wizard shops carried all of the items he needed, and he didn't want the purchases to be traced back to him, a trip to London had definitely been in order.

This would be the first time that he had attempted such an involved endeavor without magic. The trip, that would have taken a Muggle perhaps an hour or two, took him an entire day to achieve.

He had been confused as to where to begin his search. Finally it clicked to try the phone books to find an address, but it had taken an embarrassingly long time for him to think of the solution, and he was glad that he was doing the searching solo.

He finally found a large shop called Thompson Sport Wear. A nice worker had noted his confusion and helped him to find all the items he needed. By the time he left the shop, Draco owned three different sets of black gloves, a jock strap, mouthpiece, rash guard and leggings, and knee pads, and five sets of black shorts. He wasn't sure he needed all of the items, but the man had insisted.

After buying his sportswear he went to a huge Muggle store called Harrods. He didn't want to show up at the gym again in expensive clothes, and the only alternative he owned were wizard robes. He needed ordinary Muggle items to better preserve his persona. He loaded up on tee-shirts, jeans, a couple pairs of black converse and a few packs of boxers. He also threw in a couple of black hoodies and a black stocking cap, all the better for covering his pale hair when he stuck out.

Since the place seemed a bit higher end than the first Muggle store he visited, Asda, he decided to also throw in a few more quality items. He didn't realize that he was unconsciously gravitating away from the "style" his mother had instilled in him. The leather jacket and graphic tees in his cart were in stark contrast to the cashmere sweaters, silk shirts, and tailored trousers that his mother insisted that he wear. He stored it all in a large duffel that he had bought in Thompson's. He knew of course that he would only be able to wear the clothes whenever he wasn't under his parents watchful eye.

With Jujube's help he smuggled all the items into his room. All Saturday night and the following Sunday, he had to make a conscious effort to stifle his excitement.

Monday morning he was awake at five am, and dressed and on his way to the gym by six-thirty. He poured over Apparition maps to find the quickest route to the gym. He didn't actually have his Apparition license, being too young for qualification, but he had been able to Apparate since the age of ten. It had been something his parents had made him keep a secret, and not do unless of emergency. Being a Malfoy, and a Slytherin, he had promised to their face and secretly continued to do so.

Arriving at the gym, he rapped on the peeling red door at the rear, waiting for several minutes before the door swung open.

He had expected Jeff, but was unpleasantly surprised that Rico opened the door. With a sigh the older boy let him in the building.

"I can't believe he actually let you in," Rico grumbled.

"Why are you here so early? Don't you have somewhere to go?" Draco said in retort.

"Vai Se Foder, I live here. Above the gym," he said nodding his head toward a staircase set off to the left of the rear entrance.

"You live here? Don't you have parents?" Draco asked, instinctively knowing exactly what to say to piss the guy off.

He found himself slammed against the wall, looking down at the slightly shorter boy.

"That is your one time, cuzao. Nobody talks about my parents," Rico said, angrily.

"Eh, now! Cool it, Rico. I need you to keep your head," Jeff said coming up swiftly behind them.

Draco pushed down his fear, refusing to break his gaze first.

"Once he apologizes," Rico said.

"I don't even know what the fuck I'm apologizing for! Even if I did, I don't think I'd want to give you the satisfaction," Draco hissed.

Jeff pulled them apart. "You know what, Kovalic? You just found your next mentoring gig."

Jeff had never seen anyone affect the older boy in such a way. He figured that this would be the best way for the boys to work past their problem.

Rico whipped around. "What! I don't have time to teach this little pussy anything! I bet he can't even throw a punch."

"Why don't you find out?," Draco said quietly, pushing away from the wall.

Rico turned back to him. "Fine. I'm a reasonable guy, I don't expect you to win, and if you can take it without pussing out and running home to mommy, I'll make you my personal project."

"Why would I want that anyway?" Draco asked. He just about already hated the guy.

"Because I'm the best fucking Brazilian jujitsu fighter here," Rico said, confidently.

Draco turned to Jeff, who nodded, backing up Rico's claim. "What about if I do puss out? Not that that will happen," he added quickly.

"If you can't take it, you leave, and I don't have to see your face again," Rico said bluntly.

"Fine. Lets go," Draco said. He wasn't stupid. He knew that Rico was probably going to kick his ass pretty badly, but he wasn't backing down.

The fight ended embarrassingly quickly. In the end Draco had a busted nose, fat lip, and black eye, but he also had Rico's grudging respect.

Over the next three years as they trained together, they became first reluctant friends, and finally almost like brothers. Draco had never had siblings and he cherished the relationship that he had with the other boy, even adding the name Kovalic to his alias.

Draco had to stop himself from smirking at Taryn at breakfast. He knew that the little witch was confused by his actions.

He had left directly after the feast last night, not even stopping to talk to her. After a perfunctory introduction as male prefect, he even begged off hanging out in the common room, instead opting to set his room to rights. That decision had also had the affect of putting Taryn off of her game. He just wished he knew the rules that she was using.

There had to be a reason why she had changed her mind about him. He wasn't vain enough to think his looks, though considerable, had flipped her switches. The witch was up to something, and he would enjoy making her work for it.

AN: The quote about losing in the cage that Willy says comes from a book I read, Blood in the cage : mixed martial arts, Pat Miletich, and the furious rise of the UFC by L. Jon Wertheim.