"Draco?" Harry looked nervous "I'm sorry for how I've treated you. I've realized you aren't really as bad as you try to act, and I feel bad for the way I refused to shake your hand on the train. Can we be friends?" Harry looked at Draco expectantly. Draco stared into those maddeningly green eyes (maddening because Draco had come to associate the color green—the color of Slytherin, no less—with Harry and his eyes) and gulped. This was it! He'd finally managed to befriend the boy from Madame Malkin's!
"Draaaaacoooo" Harry's voice got softer, kinder than he'd ever spoken to anyone before. "Draaaacoooo…wake up" Draco woke with a start. His mother was sitting by his bed. The sun was up—barely. It was the first day of Quidditch practice. Draco shook his head to dispel the dream from his consciousness. He had to focus on Quidditch today. He'd have time to think about that dream later. "Good morning, Mother" Draco smiled at his mother. He knew she'd missed him while he was gone. His redecorated room was proof of that. She'd obviously spent hours upon hours in his room working to make it the best room a boy could want.
"Good morning, darling. Are you excited about your practice today? I've got a surprise for you, later today, if you do well at practice." Narcissa smiled warmly at her son "And I've asked Dobby to prepare something special for breakfast—I don't want you flying on a full stomach, so it's light, but I've had fresh fruit sent in, and Dobby's been working on an almond torte for you." She laughed at Draco's look of surprise "yes, I know it's normally a birthday breakfast, but I've missed you so much, that I feel today can count as a special occasion!" She rose gracefully from her perch on the side of his bed "Now get up and get ready to go!
Dripping with sweat, Draco pushed to finish his final lap around the pitch. The coach this year was ruthless. A warlock who "could have made it professionally" had he not been concussed too many times by the bludgers, Benedict Richter (known to the young players as "Sir") coached the young team the way a professional Quidditch team would be coached…ruthlessly. He firmly believed that a team had to be physically fit to win matches. He made the team spend their entire first day of practice on the ground, running laps, and doing muggle exercises like "push ups" and "sit ups." Draco and Blaise jokingly said that Voldemort should have just created an exercise tape and let the Muggles torture themselves…apparently, the silly things thought these activities were good for you. After the amount of muggle exercises they had endured that day, Draco wondered how Muggles managed without tension relieving and energy boosting potions.
After rinsing off in the team locker room, Draco changed into a clean set of clothes. He liked to wear the wizarding version of Muggle clothing, especially in the summer when robes were simply too hot. A shrewd pureblood, Parkinson had employed some Muggleborn to create a fashion line that was similar to the type of clothing Muggles wore. Of course, the magical versions had many different qualities that would have been impossible with non-magic cloth, but still, the trendy clothing was wildly popular. Checking the time, he realized that it was well after the time he was supposed to be meeting his mother. Practice had run over by an hour, meaning that the day was almost half over. Rushing out of the locker room, Draco spotted his mother chatting with Ms. Zabini (no one ever dared call her anything else, even when she was currently married) under the shade of a giant tree. Spotting Draco, his mother said her goodbyes to Blaise's mother, and made her way to him.
"How was practice? I noticed it ran over, but I didn't see any of you in the air."
Draco grimaced "Today was all about conditioning. We didn't get to fly at all, and the coach made us run laps." Narcissa's mouth quirked into a smile.
"Yes, that sounds like old Bennie." Draco gaped at her "Yes, Draco, I knew your coach when he was younger. I was actually betrothed to him for a short while, until your father made my parents realize that an alliance with the Malfoys was much superior to an alliance with the Richters. Thank the Gods. I liked Bennie well enough, but, well, the Bludgers to the head left rather much to be desired in the personality department. He is a good coach, however, and his methods are to be respected." She glanced at the position of the sun (Malfoys don't wear watches, #574 in the creed. It's undignified, according to a great great great uncle Malfoy) and seemed to realize what time it was "Oh my! Draco, we have to go!" with that, she held out the portkey and activated it, bringing them back to the mansion.
"What's going on?" Draco asked, wondering at his mother's almost (almost) ungraceful landing. His mother said nothing, but turned and hurried toward the broom shed (though it was really more of a broom mansion with more square footage that the Weasley's Burrow (his great grandfather had made sure of that when designing the broom shed)). The building contained not only brooms, but two locker rooms complete with showers and a lounge each, an indoor facility, where flying could be practiced during the rain (#326, Malfoys do not go out in the rain if at all possible…ruins the hair, and thus, the reputation), and a room his father had designed and added on—a luxurious lounge with couches around the outside. The middle of the room was taken up with a glass box that would play a Quidditch game above it in real time (the box worked with omnioculars, his father had created it for the games he didn't feel like travelling to. The Omnioculars would send the game to the magic in the box, and the box would play the game for those in the lounge.
His mother reached the broom shed, and went to the lounge. Draco still followed bemusedly, wondering what on earth his mother was doing. When he arrived in the lounge, Draco gasped. Sprawled comfortably on the couch was up and coming seeker Viktor Krum. Draco knew he played for his sector at Durmstrang (they had sectors, similar to the Hogwarts houses) and that he was so talented Bulgaria was trying to get the rules re-written so that he could come to play for them at the tender age of 15, and absolutely unheard-of honor for a young Quidditch player. Draco had followed Krum with interest, even getting his father to hire someone to use Omnioculars at Krum's matches so that he could see the seeker in action via the glass box.
"Hello, Draco," said his idol in an accented but very passable English "Your mother has asked me to come and work with you for a few weeks. You are a seeker too, yes?" Draco nodded faintly, still shocked that Krum was here in his lounge talking to him "In exchange, your mother has agreed to introduce me to Severus Snape, the potions master. I very much admire his work in the field of arcane physics as it relates to the use of dried vampire venom." Draco blinked. Despite his slow deliberate way of speaking (which was probably due in part to Krum's desire not to garble his English) Krum was apparently very intelligent. Krum appeared to be waiting for Draco's response, and when none was forthcoming, Draco's mother stepped in.
"I'm sure Draco's very excited to be working with you. He's had a long morning with Quidditch practice already, so perhaps today's not the best day to start practicing-"
"No! Erm, I mean, I feel fine, mother, and I would like to start working with you Mr. Krum, sir." Draco trailed off, noticing the grin on Krum's face.
"You, my young friend, can call me Viktor. No need to call me Sir, either. And yes, if you would like, we can begin right away" Krum rose from the couch. "Perhaps you could show me where to find a broom? This is the most elaborate broom shed I've ever seen!"
Tired, but happy, Draco lay on his back in the soft grass of the back lawn. His favorite thing to do on a summer evening at the Manor was lying down and watching the stars. He knew that it was a Black family tradition to name children after stars, and it was and easy compromise for his mother and father, as Draco was not only a star, but a traditional Malfoy name. Had there been no such overlap, Draco didn't know who would have won, his father for his belief that he was the leader of the family, or his mother, for her certainty that she lead her husband. Draco heard the crack of apparition as his mother and Krum went to visit Severus, then the silence that ensued, broken only by the crickets and the far off summer thunderstorms.
Draco thought back over the past two weeks. He had had a fantastic time with Krum, working on techniques that would surely help him in his tryout for the Slytherin House team. Draco knew that he was no match for Krum, even Krum at age 11, because there are some people for whom flying comes more naturally than breathing, but Draco was satisfied that he could beat anyone at finding the snitch, except, perhaps, for Harry. After the grueling schedule of the past two weeks, it was odd for Draco to realize that he would have a whole two days to himself for Midsummer. Krum was going back to Bulgaria, and his team was taking a break for the Midsummer festivities. It was an old pureblood tradition to hold galas in honor of Midsummer, and the purebloods stuck to this tradition long after the meaning of the galas was forgotten (they theorized the celebrations were in honor of the rituals performed on the longest day, but no one was truly certain anymore.)
As Draco stared up into the sky, he felt utterly at peace. For now, all thoughts of anything unrelated to Quidditch and the Midsummer gala were pushed from his mind, and he was able to relax within his own mind in a way he hadn't been able to for nearly a year, ever since he met Harry at the robe shop. Draco realized his eyes were starting to droop. Not wanting to fall asleep outside (the last time he did this, his mother had teased him mercilessly for ages) Draco made his way inside and to his bed. He saw his clothes for the ball (traditional robes in a deep shade of green that complimented his pale coloring) laid out on his chair. Dobby must have delivered them while Draco was out stargazing. Draco went through his evening routine, bathing, and using the mouth cleaning potion before changing into his pajamas. Before going to sleep, Draco spotted his school trunk. Remembering suddenly, Draco pulled out Thunder's gift, and allowed the silver dragon to curl around his arm (much the same as an armband tattoo). Oddly comforted, Draco climbed into his bed and fell quickly asleep.
"Oh I don't believe this. You're having a lie in? Wake up!" Draco barely registered the words before a slender body jumped on him "Draco! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! C'mon Blaise, help me! Wake up! Wake up!" Draco cracked an eye to see Daphne perched on his stomach chanting. She pulled Blaise onto the bed and the two of them began bouncing in an effort to disturb Draco's sleep enough to rouse him. Blaise accidently knocked Daphne who fell gracefully over Draco. Her grace contrasted with her ungraceful "Oomph!" as she connected with Draco's elbow. Draco gave up the pretense of sleeping to make sure she was okay. Slightly winded, Daphne smiled at him before placing a kiss on his forehead "Hello! I've missed you!"
The three friends sat in Draco's messy bed talking about their weeks. Blaise and Daphne didn't follow amateur Quidditch (and Daphne didn't follow foreign Quidditch) so they were only mildly impressed that Krum had been giving Draco pointers. Draco listened as Daphne detailed her time in Germany with her father (who had an "unorthodox" approach to money for a pureblood…he earned it!) who was covering German pureblood culture in a report for the Wizarding Wireless Network. Daphne got to be a junior correspondent with her father, Altair Greengrass (whose mother had been a Black, hence his first name). Perhaps it was because her father was a radio correspondent, or perhaps it was just her nature, but Daphne was always very well spoken, and able to turn the simplest story into an epic tale that enthralled the listeners. Draco found himself holding his breath when Daphne described the German High Warlock, who hadn't taken the documentation of his culture very kindly. It was a tribute to Altair Greengrass' talent as a wizard and an orator that they left Germany in one piece, memories intact (according to Daphne, the High Warlock wanted to obliviate her and her father).
Blaise's summer, according to the boy, was uneventful thus far. He mentioned that he'd spent a lot of time indoors after Quidditch practice, studying for the upcoming school year. He admitted that he'd done all his homework, and was now just studying for the fun of it. Daphne giggled and told Draco that she was convinced that Blaise was going to try to show off in classes for some girl. Draco glanced at Blaise, and his furious blush told Draco that Daphne hadn't been far off with her teasing. Draco filed that bit of information away for later questioning.
Their silly ramblings were interrupted by a gentle clearing of the throat. Draco's mother stood in the doorway in a lovely but simple under robe. "I thought you children arrived early to help me set up, not sit on my son like he's some sort of lounge chair!" Her smile proved she was only joking, but Daphne scrambled off Draco's stomach, knocking Blaise off the bed. "My dear," said Narcissa gently "You are so graceful in your movements, it is difficult to remember your tendency for tripping over your own feet, and knocking everyone else off theirs!" The two boys howled with laughter, and Daphne grinned cheerfully "Thanks, Mrs. Malfoy. Most people just say I'm clumsy, and don't even mention the 'gracefulness' that I picked up at WANDS' dance class" she said, referring back to the pureblood primary school.
Draco climbed out of bed while his mother asked his friends about their summer. He went into the bathroom and quickly dressed in a simple outfit. He would change into his robes later on, but for now, he needed clothes he could move around in. He had agreed to help his mother set up for the gala that evening, mostly because she said she'd get special permission from the ministry for Draco, Blaise, and Daphne to use magic, just for that afternoon.
When he exited the bathroom, his mother and his friends were still making small talk. Draco knew his mother liked Daphne despite the fact that she'd never been on their "approved" list of friends (because of her father's notions about actually earning money rather than simply spending it for influence). Daphne was well educated and fiercely loyal to Draco, and to a lesser degree, to Blaise (she called them "her boys"). She was the oldest of the bunch, having turned 12 in February (Blaise a close second with his March birthday…he trained with the eleven and unders for Quidditch, but didn't play because he was already 12. Draco couldn't understand why Blaise chose to train with a team he couldn't play with, but Blaise insisted that he was tired of Quidditch, and only played to have a chance to be with Draco).
The group exited Draco's bedroom and made their way to the Grand Hallway, the site of the Midsummer gala for as long as the gala had been held. The manor was ever changing, with additions and renovations, but the Grand Hallway was special. It was built by the ancestor of the architect who built Hogwarts for the four founders, and was the oldest surviving structure in all of Europe. The Grand Hallway was used only for the gala, due partly to tradition and partly to superstition. No one knew what would happen if there were events to occur in the Grand Hallway during "normal" times, but no one had ever dared try it.
The spells Draco, Blaise, and Daphne used were rudimentary, but it felt good to use magic, almost like scratching an itch. The three did their best to follow Narcissa's instructions, and within a few hours, the magnificent room was completely ready for guests. Nobby (Narcissa's personal house elf, the way Lobby was Lucius' and Dobby was Draco's) lead the elves in preparing a fantastic feast rivaled only by the Hogwarts welcoming feast. All the purebloods sent a few house elves to assist in the preparation of the banquet, so there wouldn't be too much strain on the Malfoy house elves. Narcissa performed a quick spell to learn the time (#575…that same great great whatever uncle felt that clocks would remind the guests in the manor that there were places to go and things to see, so he outlawed them in the public rooms…sometimes the rules really did make life difficult!) and sent the children off to Draco's room to change for the gala.
Draco glanced in the mirror one last time. Not one hair was out of place. Draco noticed that he was higher up in the mirror than he used to be. He was beginning to grow, which was a blessing and a curse. A blessing because a lofty stature would give Draco a natural advantage over people by allowing him to tower over them. A curse because if he grew too much, he would be like the youngest Weasley, ungainly, ungraceful, and un-seeker-able. Draco turned, and saw that Blaise and Daphne had long since given up waiting patiently for him, and had pulled out Draco's chess set. Just as Draco made his way to them, Daphne let out a triumphant "Checkmate!" and Blaise groaned…he hadn't seen it coming. Daphne was wearing deep purple robes, with matching amethyst earrings, while Blaise wore a rich blue garment. The three of them made their way to the Grand Hallway, where the gala was already in full swing. Because they weren't of age, the festivities for them ended at 10 o'clock, so the trio planned to take advantage of the party while they could.
Just as Draco reached the tables where the sumptuous feast lay, he heard "Oh Draco! You look so handsome!" He turned to see Pansy (in a rather sickening shade of red that would have suited someone much older, but somehow seemed offensive on her) making her way toward him. She turned "And Blaise and Daphne. You look, erm, okay." Daphne smothered a giggle at the confused look the boys gave Pansy. The four of them made their way to a table, where they talked of their summers, their vacations, and their parents before talk turned to the upcoming school year.
"I personally cannot wait for school to start again," said Draco, reaching for his water glass. "I mean, we're going to be starting the interesting subjects and all, and that'll be alright, but the best part is—"
"That now that you're a second year you can try out for the house team and it'll be so cool because then your father will buy you a new broom," chorused Daphne and Blaise before breaking out into laughter. "Dray, we've heard it a thousand times" said Daphne gently.
"Then what are you so excited for?" asked Draco, overlooking the nickname. It seemed that Daphne was the only person who could mutilate his name and get away with it. Daphne looked at him like he was crazy.
"Herbology, of course! We're going to go into the dangerous greenhouses this year! They've got all sorts of interesting plants, like the mandrake, or the venomous tentactula! Professor Sprout said she might even teach us about the whomping willow!" Daphne grinned manically. For some reason, dangerous plants appealed to Daphne the way dangerous creatures appealed to Hagrid.
"Forget silly leafy things," cut in Pansy "What I really want this year is a boyfriend! I went all last year without one, even though that silly Millicent Bulstrode had one, and she's the ugliest Slytherin I know!" Pansy looked at Draco for a long minute "What I really need is someone handsome and high ranking to be my boyfriend" She blinked in Draco's direction, sending him looks that made him plainly uncomfortable.
Blaise laughed at Draco's discomfort. "This year is going to be great! Like you said about the harder classes, they're going to be neat! I can't wait for things to really get going, especially because I'm going to study with Her—erm…gack" Blaise pretended to choke on his filet mignon coughing violently in an attempt to change the topic. Draco already had his suspicions about Blaise's intended study partner, but didn't say anything. He allowed the conversation to steer its way to last year's classes. As they continued to talk, Pansy's mother came over and pulled her ever so politely toward a table with an eligible young prince from Sweden (with whom the Parkinsons were trying to ingratiate themselves). Just after Pansy left, Daphne turned to Draco and said "So what'd you think of, erm Quirrell?"
"Well, he was a crap teacher…" said Draco cautiously, not wanting to say something wrong and offend either his parents or his friends.
"No, I mean, what do you think of the whole situation? With, well, HIM and everything?" Daphne looked nervous; as though she wasn't sure she was going to like the answer to her question
"Honestly?" said Blaise slowly, as though he were choosing his words carefully "I'm not sure how to feel about it."
"I don't know that I like the possession thing" said Draco slowly, realizing his friends might, just might, feel the same as he did about 'the CEO.' Draco hadn't fully formed his opinion, but he wasn't sure he liked the company policies.
"I definitely didn't like the possession of a teacher, or the attempts to kill a student" said Daphne softly, smiling "am I right to believe you two feel the same as I do on this situation?" the two boys nodded, and all smiled furtively at one another. None had to worry about the others telling their parents about what had just happened. The group was united, in more ways than one.
At 9:45, the music began to play. Draco stood and asked Daphne to dance with exaggeratedly gallant motions. She giggled and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. They whirled expertly around the floor, showing off the moves honed through years of practicing and tutelage. As the song drew to a close, the pair realized it was nearly time to leave. As they made their way toward their table, Draco stopped suddenly. "You go ahead, Daph," said Draco, "I just want to tell my parents Happy Midsummer before we go upstairs." Daphne nodded and made her way to Blaise, as Draco turned and found his parents. As he approached his father, he saw Gregory Nott talking to Lucius. When Draco got closer, he could hear what was being said. His stomach dropped.
"—and as I've been trying to tell him, the obsession with the Potter boy is unhealthy. He needs to learn that such things will be frowned upon by our community." Gregory noticed Lucius looking over Draco's shoulder and turned "Oh, hello! Didn't see you there! Care to join the conversation? I was just telling your father all about your silly little obsession with Harry Potter."
Well...longest chapter! Do you think it was a success? Review! My next chapter looks like it will be even longer...provided I get reviews to motivate me :)
C