Draco Malfoy, Boy Who Turned Against His Own Father

Chapter 2: The Mysterious Guest

'I wonder who's coming to stay,' commented Ginny as she fluffed the pillow.

'Me too,' said Ron, watching his sister walked around the room. 'Why won't Mum and Dad tell us who's our guest?'

Ginny shrugged. 'I dunno. Maybe they want to surprise us or something. Do you reckon that it's Bill coming to visit?' asked Ginny, stopping in her work of cleaning the room. She smiled as she thought of her eldest brother, who was living in Southeast Asia at the moment.

'Well, I hope so. It's been a while since he last visited,' said Ron, standing up from the small armchair in the corner. 'I'm going downstairs, you coming?'

Shaking her head, Ginny said, 'I want to tidy up this place more. Bill hates staying in an untidy room.'

'But you don't know for sure that Bill's the one who's coming to visit.'

Ginny scowled at her brother as he left the room before turning back to her work. She was in the process of arranging and re-arranging the flowers in the vase by the window when she heard a familiar voice. She froze, her hands still clamped around the stems. It took her a couple of seconds for the information to sink in before she hastily dropped the flowers and ran down the stairs.

'Bill! You're here!!' Ginny flung her arms around her eldest brother, as she reached the landing of the stairs.

The tall redhead caught his sister, laughing, 'I take it that you missed me, Ginny.'

'See, I told you that Bill would be here,' said Ginny as soon she released Bill, sticking out her tongue at Ron childishly.

Ron merely narrowed his eyes at her, not saying a word. He would very much like sticking his tongue at Ginny as well, and making funny faces, but he was already eighteen and beginning to be treated as an adult by his parents. He did not want his parents to think he was still like a child.

'Let me bring your things up to your room, Bill,' said Ron, offering to take the trunks Bill held in his hands.

'Thank you, Ron, but I can manage. Why don't you help our guest instead?' said Bill instead, already walking up the stairs.

Ron stared at him. 'Guest?' he echoed.

Ginny frowned, looking at Ron with a quizzical expression on her face, 'But Bill, you're our guest.'

'No,' came Bill's voice from the top of the stairs. 'I'm not.'

'Who is, then?' asked Ron, scratching his chin.

'I am.'

Both Ron and Ginny turned around to face the person who just spoke. Before she did, Ginny wondered why the voice was so familiar. She had a very bad feeling about it, although she did not know why. Ginny could not help but gave out a gasp when she saw the visitor standing at the door.

'And by the way, I don't need your help,' added the boy haughtily. With that, he walked up the stairs.

Ginny stared at his back, wondering to herself if she was daydreaming. She looked at Ron, his mouth hanging wide open, and knew that she was not daydreaming. She looked back at the boy who was her guest, hoping that she was just seeing things before. Unfortunately, her eyesight was just fine. Oh, it was him, all right. The trademark blonde hair, steel grey eyes, and snobbish smirk were unmistakable.

'Is that...?' Ron was rubbing his eyes; as if he did not believe what he had just seen.

'Draco Malfoy? Yeah.'

*

Draco Malfoy stomped up the stairs in the hopes of stamping holes into the staircase. Unfortunately for his temper, but fortunately for the Weasleys, the staircase was very sturdy and firm. It made him angrier, so he stomped even more deliberately and harder until his feet hurt. Once he reached the top of the stairs, he realized something. He did not know which room he was having.

'Draco?' said a voice suddenly. It was Bill Weasley, who had picked him up from the Manor in a car, some kind of Muggle transportation. 'That's your room,' he said, pointing at the room right at the opposite of where he was.

'I knew that,' Draco said in an arrogant tone. 'And Weasley, the name's Malfoy.'

Bill was clearly undaunted by Draco's tone. 'Sure, Malfoy,' he grinned. 'And by the way, the name's Bill.'

Draco ignored Bill, and held his head high as he walked into his room. The moment he walked into it, he knew instantly that he hated the room. Firstly, the colours were all wrong. The room was brightly painted, with a mixture of electric blue and bright yellow. It shouted happiness and brightness, which was the exact reason Draco hated it. His old room used to be black and white in colour. It was simple and classy. Another thing he disliked about the room was its fluffy cushions. He picked up a pink cushion with a picture of a teddy bear sewn onto the cover, looking at it with pure disgust before dropping it back. But what he hated the most were the happy portraits and pictures hanging on the wall. Everyone in the portrait was either smiling, or grinning or laughing. And everyone in the pictures looked happy. The whole room practically screamed of happiness, and that made him sick.

Suddenly aching to see the sword he had taken from Malfoy Manor, he put his trunk onto the bed and opened it. There it was, wrapped up with velvet on top of his pile of things. He took it out, unwrapping the velvet slowly and carefully, looking at the sword admiringly as he did so. As he held the hilt in his hands, Draco suddenly felt a surge of power. He moved his wrists, admiring the sword from different angles. The sword was rather heavy, but the longer Draco held it, the lighter it seemed. Near the blade of the sword, the hilt was encrusted with dark red and dark blue gems, the names of which he knew nothing. Draco noticed that some kind of writing was carved into a part of the blade. It was of a language he knew nothing about, and did not seem to look like any of the ancient writings he had ever come across before.

'What's that?' said a feminine voice suddenly, breaking Draco's train of thoughts.

Very hastily, Draco dropped the sword back into his trunk and slammed his trunk shut. He turned around, only to see Ginny Weasley standing at the doorway of his room.

'What are you doing in my room, Weasley?' he growled, angry that she had caught him unaware.

'In case you did not realize, Malfoy,' spat Ginny crossly. 'This is my house you're at.'

Draco smirked, 'Yes, but I am also your guest. Is this how you poor people treat your guests?'

He knew Ginny was now fuming. Her face was red with anger and embarrassment and her eyes seemed to contain burning flames. Draco expected her to come out with some kind of retort or insult, but instead, she turned her back at him, held her head high and left the door. His smirk faded. He was actually looking forward to her response. Draco slumped down onto the bed, feeling empty inside. Even Ginny Weasley, the girl whom he used to insult would not even bother to argue with him. And he was not sure why, but he was feeling depressed because of that fact.

*

The Weasleys held a family meeting that night. It was not exactly a meeting, as it was dinner, but the Weasley children were far too agitated to have a peaceful meal. The topic was, of course, Draco Malfoy, and they spoke freely of what they thought as he had refused haughtily to have dinner with them.

'Why is he staying with us?' asked Fred. 'I thought he had a manor all to himself.'

'Yeah,' joined in George. 'He's such a rich brat, he could afford to stay anywhere he wanted, so why here?'

'And why does he get to sleep in my room?' asked Ron, unhappy at the fact that his parents had allow his archenemy to sleep in his room. 'Ginny's bed is so hard.'

'Hey!' protested Ginny. 'You're lucky that you get the bed. I got the floor. And as if that's not enough, I have to listen to your snoring every night.'

Ron's face turned as red as a beetroot. 'I do not snore!'

'Actually, you do, little Ronniekins,' George joined in gleefully. 'In fact, we can hear it from our room. Isn't that right, Fred?'

Fred grinned. 'Yeah. Do you know you're like an alarm clock to us? When you wake up, you make a funny noise, like this.' He demonstrated, making a rude noise from his throat. 'Then George and I knew straightaway that it's time to wake up.'

'I DO NOT SNORE!!' Ron roared, his temper flaring.

'ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!'

Everyone turned to look at Bill, who had been quietly having his meal until now.

'Do you all have to make such a racket? We have a guest upstairs,' said Bill calmly, as if he had not just shouted at his siblings.

Ron recovered first. 'So what? Afraid that he'll be ashamed of us? Trust me, he already is!'

SLAP!!

Everyone stared at Mrs Weasley, shocked. She, too, looked appalled that she had just slapped her own son.

'You... you slapped me for that bastard upstairs?' asked Ron, trembling. His eyes were dark with fury and embarrassment.

'Watch your language, young man!' Mr Weasley jumped out from his chair. 'Your mother and I thought you would be mature about this. Apparently, we misjudged you!'

'Well, apparently I misjudged my parents too!' With that, Ron stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him with a loud, angry BANG!

Ginny and the twins stared after the door, at a loss of what they should do. Mr Weasley was comforting his wife, who was sobbing uncontrollably.

Fred stood up suddenly. 'Mum, why did you...?' The question was incomplete, but they all knew what he meant. Mrs Weasley sobbed even harder.

'Enough, Fred! Isn't your mother upset enough already?' said Mr Weasley. 'Go to your room, all of you. Yes, you too, Ginny. I have had enough from you for one day. Go!'

Ginny was about to protest, but her brother had pulled her along.

Before she left, she heard her father said in a tired voice to Bill, 'Go after your brother, will you?'

A few seconds later, Bill walked towards the door; taking the coat he hanged in the closet. Ginny looked at him, willing him to look at her. Their eyes met for a brief moment. It was brief, but enough for Ginny to read the message in his eyes: Not now. I'll tell you later. Ginny obediently turned around and followed Fred and George up what seemed like a very long staircase.

*

Draco was faintly aware that something was happening downstairs. The Weasleys were apparently having a row, as he could hear loud, raised angry voices and shouts. Then there was a loud bang, and the noise suddenly lowered its volume. He could make out someone who sounded very much like Mrs Weasley, sobbing. What was she crying about, he wondered. But the thought disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Why should I care anyway? I'm glad they're having a row. Serve them right to be miserable. He thought with cruel satisfaction. Although Draco had a smirk on his face, it was slowly fading into a frown, but he did not realized that. His cold, steel-like heart was starting to melt, but try getting him to admit that.