Draco Bloody Malfoy

Draco Bloody Malfoy

When one has been on a rather uncomfortable, jerking train for more than one hour, one does not, I will repeat, not feel like sitting down and watching a stupid bloody feast, in which new bloody students are sorted. If they're new in Slytherin, what the hell is it to me? I'm a Malfoy! I care about no one! But, of course, myself.

Hermione, Harry and Ron looked expectantly up at the Sorting Hat, perched on its regular, old, wooden stool. Hermione's eyes glimmered in delight. Even after a long train ride it was still worth it to see the newest students at Hogwarts, even if the majority weren't in Gryffindor. She heard a loud yawn reverberate the entire hall, and was the only one to look up in time to see Draco Malfoy stretching luxuriously, eyes closed, his pale skin stretched on his face as his mouth opened. Several white teeth were revealed as he stretched even farther back. Hermione would have laughed if he fell out of his chair.

But then, quite suddenly, Drac- er.... She meant...Malfoy, stopped yawning. His blond hair settled around his face, and Hermione felt a jolt in the region of her stomach, that might have had something to do with pleasure. His cold, piercing grey eyes met her soft, brown ones. And he smiled, considering this was a Malfoy, Hermione thought, it was probably more of a smirk. She looked away, up at the Sorting hat, which had finished its song. Staring at it, rather dazed, Hermione thought about what that smile, or smirk, meant. Hermione! She scolded herself indignantly, she wasn't supposed to analyse a smirk...it was a Malfoy...a Malfoy smirk.

Hermione scanned the new first years who were about to be sorted. Her eyes rested on each of them, trying to read their expressions, all of which showed nothing less than petrified thoughts. Hermione's choclatey brown eyes scanned their faces again, and felt a jolt of shock. It was Malfoy. Looking across the room she saw Draco Malfoy, checking his reflection with a spoon, she looked back up at the line, there he was again. But that was when Hermione noticed some noticeable differences between the faces that calmed her nerves. All Hogwarts needed was another Boy-o-Lurve.

For one, the boy's face in line was a lot less pointed than Malfoy's; it softened his face, possibly making it possible for him to smile, rather than smirk. It was also a lot less mature. Stealing another glance at the Slytherin table, however, Hermione couldn't help noticing how they both had that gorgeous...white blond hair, and- wait, did she just think that?

The boy proceeded to the beginning of the line with each name called. Many of the first years were Ravenclaws and Gryffindors so far, which was fairly surprising. Hermione watched the boy with an eagerness that made Ron and Harry stare.

'Er, Hermione?' asked Harry after a moment. But at that second the boy stepped forth and Hermione shot him her famous Death GlareTM and said 'shhh!' pressing a finger (perhaps more vicious than usually) to her lips.

"Malfoy, Ian," called Professor McGonagall.

Hermione looked at Draco, who had dropped his spoon.

The boy sat on the stool for about thirty seconds before the hat shouted,

"GRYFFINDOR!" and Hermione's table exploded with cheers. The boy sat down next to Hermione (who was on the far left of the trio) and said,

"Hi! Who're you? I'm Ian! And see that guy over there with the pale face? See him there? He's my cousin, and his Dad's sending him an owl to tell him to take care of me!"

"Really now?" asked Hermione, raising an eyebrow.

The boy looked at her with uncertainty.

"Er- yeah, doesn't he know about...about me?"

"Judging by the look on his face he doesn't," said Hermione observantly, nodding toward Malfoy, who looked shocked and confused (for the first and last time in his entire life).

"Maybe I should talk to him?" asked the boy, looking at Hermione again.

"No, I don't think you should, he'll probably get the owl sometime this week, or sooner," said Hermione.

"What's your name?" asked Ian.

"Hermione Granger," said Hermione, shifting so she could hold out her hand.

"Er yeah, I'm Ian Malfoy, and isn't that Harry Potter?" The boy's mouth dropped open and he gasped.

"That's arry Potter," said Hermione, defeating a sigh. Did everyone have to ask? She loved Harry, but wasn't the oh-so-plain "look-I-defeated-the-Dark-Lord-scar" good enough for everyone?

"Wow," said the boy, his mouth still open. Ron leaned in to talk with Hermione,

"Who's that?" he asked, looking at Ian with pronounced mistrust. Ian couldn't hear anything Ron was saying; the feast had begun and he was shovelling food into his mouth, staring around him, above him, and at the people seated by him. He was already talking enthusiastically to Parvati and Lavender, who were sitting on the other side of him. They were giggling at his every other word, apparently they thought this was the best way to get Draco to notice them. Hermione sighed inwardly, how could you like him, sure, he was attractive, like, drop-dead, traffic-stopping gorgeous (did I just think that?) but he had the attitude of a particularly vindictive Blast-Ended Skrewt.

"Ian, he's actually quite nice, I was talking to him."

"I noticed," said Ron, looking suspiciously still at Ian.

Hermione laughed softly to herself before replying,

"Ron, he's a first year. We're sixth years. Don't even get any ideas!"

Gazing around the table (as Ron returned to his food...sigh) Hermione loved how cheerful everyone looked, it gave you a rather warm and bubbly feeling inside to see everyone smiling and talking gaily. Harry was talking to Alicia Spinnet about new Quidditch Tactics (he had been appointed this years new Quidditch Captain) Lavender and Parvati were laughing as Ian talked with them about definitely not-serious issues. Dean and Seamus were laughing with Neville about Neville being turned into a bat at his Uncle Algie's house.

Before no time, however, it was time to go to bed. As Hermione had been appointed a Prefect last year she was in element. Telling everyone to follow her she stood up and led the way to the Gryffindor Entrance.

"Password?" asked the Fat Lady, straightening her pink, silk gown.

"Bow down to me, Slytherin scum," said Hermione, loudly enough so everyone behind her could hear. Ian was the first in the Common Room after Hermione and he gasped. Hermoine smiled and asked him,

"So, you like?"

"I like, I like," said Ian, still gaping at the chairs, cushions, chess sets, newly cleaned fire-place and everything else that gave Gryffindor a homey-glow. Hermione gave the annual instructions of where the first years would sleep, and made way to her own Dormitory. Just because she was a Prefect didn't mean she got a separate room, unless she requested for one. But no, Hermione liked her dorm-mates, they were all highly enthusiastic, and gave her company during her study hours, even if they did slightly disapprove of some of her choices. Hermione trooped lazily to her bed and threw on her dressing gown. Yawning helplessly she bid everyone in her dormitory good night as irresistible waves of sleep drifted over her seemingly lifeless body.

Hermione awoke the next morning extra early. After pulling on her uniform (yawn) she made her way down to the Great Hall for Breakfast. There were few people up at this hour, Hermione checked her watch and discovered it was only five thirty in the morning. The rest of the school wouldn't be down for another two hours.

Hermione looked at the chances of someone coming to talk to her, and rushed back to her dorm to get a book. Fifteen minutes later she was sitting at the Gryffindor table, munching peacefully on toast. The doors of the Great Hall swung open, and Draco strutted in, seating himself with a flourish at the Slytherin table. For some reason he looked more smug than usual, as if he had just found something out no one else knew about. Dumbledore followed him closely, when Hermione realised what they must have been talking about. Ian. And how was Draco to care for him, when he was in Gryffindor?

Think Hermione, think. Nope, not working. Hermione guessed she would ask Ian later. This slightly comforting thought didn't stop her, however, from staring at Draco as he took a book out of the bag he had slung over his shoulder. He began to read, his blond hair shining brilliantly around him, his face set in a look of deep concentration, and he turned each page with a delicate, piano playing, Quidditch playing, Crabbe and Goyle beating finger. Hermione watched him for about an hour until some stragglers started to show up, sit down and eat with her. Harry, Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus were some of the last people to come down from Gryffindor, all tousle-haired and black-eyed.

Draco was just on his way to get breakfast. Stupid bloody people in his dorm; snoring, snuffling, yelling names. And some of those names weren't of the opposite sex either. Draco shuddered inwardly and made his way up a set of stone steps, cut through a passageway, and who should he run into but Dumbledolt.

"Hello, Mister Malfoy," said Dumbledolt.

"Oh hello, professor," said Malfoy, almost rolling his eyes out of sheer boredom and pulling his best 'out-of-my-way-old-man-I-need-food' look.

"You may be wondering about your cousin, Ian, who was recently sorted into Gryffindor?"

Oh this conversation is going somewhere, thought Draco.

"Yes, I was wondering about that actually," said Draco, yawning.

"Well, considering he has no other relations to show him around the place, the other staff and I have agreed to let you go to Gryffindor Tower to - ah - show him...around. And also, hopefully to make peace with other Gryffindors, maybe your cousin can show you the better side in them?"

"The better side in Gryffindor, what in the name of Merlin's old and wrinkly bottom are you smoking?" asked Draco incredulously.

Dumbledore actually smiled. This irritated Draco, so he continued.

"Gryffindor and Slytherin have been enemies for years, and years, and years, and years, and years, and years, so why should I of all people made peace with them...now?" Draco finished. Slightly out of breath.

Dumbledore suddenly looked very grave.

'In the light of recent events, what with Voldemort rising, we are as strong united, as weak as we are divided."

"Oh that was deep, tell me, have you written a book full of corny quotes I could use on some of the Gryffindor girls?"

Dumbledore chose to ignore this.

"Mister Malfoy, you may go to Gryffindor Tower, tell a prefect, I think they are, ah, Miss Granger and Mister Thomas, that you are allowed to enter their Common Room. If they do not give you the password, I suggest you come to see me, I have an alternate plan."

"An alternate plan, huh? What, are you going to transfigure me into something, cause if you are I suggest it's something not alive, I'd rather be dead than with those bloody Gryffindors..."

"As you wish, Mister Malfoy," said Dumbledore, stepped into a side corridor, until Draco was far enough ahead so he could keep walking.

"Goodbye Mister Dumbledol- Dumbledore," said Malfoy with a mock bow.

"Goodbye," said Dumbledolt.

Hermione made her way to her first class of the year. Transfiguration. Checking her timetable she informed Harry and Ron that they were still with the Slytherins for nearly everything. Ron, of course, swore loudly and Harry laughed darkly. Hermione looked surprised at them both, they usually pretended to not care.

On her way to class Hermione couldn't help but ask.

"What is up with you guys?" asked Hermione incredulously.

"Oh nothing," said Harry sarcastically. "Nothing at all, nope, everything is peaceful and serene here, isn't it Ron? Oh yes, most of our days in this beautiful castle with the ugly Slytherins and their stupid minor-intelligence racked brains, aside from that nothing Herm, nothing at all."

"Could you have cut back on the sarcasm?" asked Hermione, rolling her eyes slightly. "And not all of the Slytherins are bad looking!" she protested.

"WHAT?!" Harry and Ron asked in high voices, staring at her, utterly confused.

"Oh God, come on, you've had to think, not all of them are utterly hideous."

"Oh Herm," began Ron, suddenly looking dreamy. "You know you're right!"

Harry stared.

"No, Harry, think...Pansy Parkinsons lovely squashed face, her square figure, and Blaise Zabini's fat body, ooh yes, and that group of girls with their overdone makeup-"

Harry burst out laughing.

"Okay Ron, you can stop talking about your endless love life," said Hermione.

"Love life? The weasel? With who? Spawns of the devil? Oh no wait, they're too good for him, how about the Giant Squid, many tentacles you know," said a drawling voice from behind them. For some strange reason Hermione blushed.

"We didn't ask you, Drac- uh...Malfoy!" Hermoine recovered herself. Draco was looking at her with great interest.

"Taken to my first name? At last? And to think, Granger, I never would have thought it of you, I'm touched, really," said Draco, putting a hand over his heart.

"Shove off Malfoy," said Harry warningly.

"Oh sorry Potter, didn't want to make you jealous that she likes my name more than yours, and pity too! Just think, Hermione Potter, does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

"No!" Hermione burst out savagely.

"Hermione Malfoy then? Hmmm...interesting," drawled Malfoy.

"Malfoy! Granger! You can have a nice little chat after the lesson!" barked Professor McGonagall from the doorway to the Transfiguration classroom.

Hermione blushed seventeen shades of red, Malfoy winked at her deliberately and the last thought that crossed Hermione's mind before she entered the classroom was, "Prick, prick, prick, prick, prick."

At lunch the very same day Draco decided to stroll over to the Gryffindor table to talk to Ian. After strutting across the hall, his robes billowing behind him (making him look gorgeous, meaning half the girls single and not single swooned) he sat down beside Ian. He smiled at the shocked Gryffindor table and said,

"Just here to talk to my cousin."

Parvati sighed, Lavender nudged her, but she too was staring open-mouthed at Draco.

"Oh hi cuz!" said Ian enthusiastically. "Are you coming to see me later in the Common Room?"

"Sure," said Draco. "What time?"

"WAIT!" roared Ron down the table. "He may not infect our Common Room, we can wash it a million times and the Slytherin scum feeling will never leave it." Half the girls down the table looked scandalised, and told Ron to shut up.

"Dumbledolt said I could, Weasel," said Draco coolly.

"What time?" he repeated to Ian, who looked slightly anxious of the tension between his friends and his cousin.

"Uh...Six I guess? You can come with us after Dinner if you like?"

"Yeah, that would be great," said Draco, getting up to leave. Ooh, this would be fun.

Hermione tried not to worry herself as Dinner approached. Sooner than she would have liked they were heading down for the feast, and even sooner Malfoy was swaggering over to see Ian. Hermione was one of the first people to get to the Portrait Hole that night, but Draco was already there, waiting for her. This was when it struck Hermione how very alone she and Draco were.

"Aw, did you hurry back to get the password for me Granger?" asked Draco, pretending to cry in mirth.

"No," said Hermione shortly. "I was trying to get back before you so I wouldn't have to shame the entire house in giving you the password."

"Shame? Oh now I feel relieved, I thought you thought of me as the scum of the earth, whew!"

"Draco Malfoy, when you're welcome in Gryffindor, Hell will freeze over."

"Oh what a lovely Christmas gift that would be!" said Draco enthusiastically. Yawning, he looked deliberately at the Fat Lady.

"Password?" she asked, staring back at him.

"I hate to break eye contact with the only love you'll ever experience Malfoy, but the new password is Fairy Darts."

"Oh interesting, I thought it would be something like, 'Bow down to me, Slytherin scum," said Draco, climbing in the portrait hole. "Oh, not fair, yours is a lot more comfortable than ours, you guys have a red fireplace, and look at these chairs!" Draco sank into a couch. "Where are you going?" he asked lightly as Hermione made her way up to the girls' dorm.

"To get changed you daft little pig," said Hermione, climbing further still.

"Ooh! Can I come too?" asked Draco enthusiastically. His answer was a door slamming.

About ten minutes later Hermione emerged downstairs again, wearing a long blue skirt and a sleeveless, black turtleneck. Her hair billowed out behind her, her brown eyes like a kindling fire.

"Oh hello Granger," said Malfoy over the crowd of people who had arrived at Gryffindor tower while Hermione was upstairs.

Hermione ignored him and proceeded to her book bag, which was sitting on the chair beside Malfoy.

"I need my books," she said pointedly.

"Then get them," said Draco exhaustedly. God he was lazy. And pampered. And gorgeous. And gorgeous. And a Skrewt. And gorgeous.

"Fine," said Hermione, picking up her bag and seating herself in a usual chair.

"So, tell me little Gryffindor, what do you people do when you're not behaving pathetically around the school?" asked Draco, looking at Hermione with his piercing gaze. Hermione couldn't help but notice how his grey eyes and his blond hair were lit up exuberantly by the roaring fire.

"We study, work, play games, make friends, you know, I bet that's boring compared to what the Slytherins do in their spare time, thinking of ways to bring Voldemort back to power, thinking up ways to get all the Gryffindors expelled."

"Oh, but you're so right, Granger," yawned Draco, stretching. Hermione couldn't notice how his once thin arms were bulging with muscle.

"What?" asked Draco with that perfect complaining/exasperated air he had.

"Just marvelling how...how..." Hermione coughed and looked around nervously.

"How you should not be here right now," said Harry sitting down next to Hermione.

"Hi Harry!" said Hermione, looking up and smiling.

"Hi Potter!" said Draco, imitating Hermione's voice completely.

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry.

"Shut up, Potter," said Malfoy.

"Potter is sexy," said Harry.

"Draco is sexy," said Malfoy. Hermione muttered it not quite low enough.

"What?" asked Harry and Draco...er...Malfoy.

"I said, Draco is ugly," said Hermione, recovering herself.

"Aw, there she goes again, using my first name!" said Draco, patting Hermione's head. "She loves me, she loves me!" he continued.

"Honestly," Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Honestly," said Draco rolling his eyes.

"Weren't you here to see Ian?" asked Ron, sitting down next to Harry.

"Oh the Weasle-" Draco began delightedly. Ian stepped between them.

"Hi cuz!" he said enthusiastically. But in that very moment an owl flew through the open window (why the Gryffindors kept the windows open was beyond Hermoine and Draco). It settled on Draco's lap, Hermione recognised it as the owl that usually delivered his insane abundance of sweets and cakes. Hermione looked at Harry and Ron, who shrugged in unison, and went back to watching Draco. He opened the letter with ease and as he read it, his face went even paler, and his eyes became overly bright. Hermione gasped, Draco Malfoy...was crying.

Draco sped down the halls, heading toward the Slytherin Common room. It wasn't fair, not now, why now? The letter was still clutched tightly in his fist as he swept into the common room. Several people looked up, Draco ignored them and continued to his room, where he read the letter several times before falling asleep. His tears were sticky on his face, and below his closed lids tears still tried to reach the oxygen above them. His grey pupils were shot with red lines, dark circles under his eyes announced he had been crying. Softly surely, but he was still crying. The letter was from his mother.

Dearest Draco,

Forgive me for the shortness of this letter, but I'm packing up everything. Voldemort came to our house while I was away, shopping in Knockturn Alley, and killed your father. I am filled with grief. I have no answers.

Narcissa

Draco scoffed, 'filled with grief'. That was his mother all right. When he had first read the letter he rolled his eyes between the wet sensation on his cheeks. He looked up one last time at Hermione, why her? Even he didn't know. But he did, and saw her eyes were actually concerned. Or had he been dreaming? Draco woke up about fifteen minutes later, and headed out toward the only place he could think without needing to press on a subject, the lake.

Hermione was worried. About an hour later she asked Harry and Ron,

"What do you think the letter said?"

Harry and Ron looked at her, startled, and shrugged.

"Maybe his Dad died," said Ron.

"Maybe his Dad was put in jail?" asked Harry.

"Maybe his Mom was arrested," said Ron.

"Honestly!" said Hermione, rolling her eyes pointedly.

"What?" asked Ron.

"You point everything at his parents!" said Hermione exasperatedly.

"So?" asked Harry.

"So that's not fair, you know how it feels not having parents, Harry, you should be a bit more considerate that he might be losing one of his!" said Hermione.

Harry looked as though he was thinking about this.

"You're absolutely right," he said.

"She is?" asked Ron incredulously, looking at Harry.

"She is," Harry repeated firmly, "but I won't get mixed up in it, it's his business."

The argument ended. Hermione got up quite suddenly with an idea,

"Harry?" she asked sweetly.

"Yeah?" asked Harry.

"I do believe I left a book in the library-" Hermione began.

"A book? In the...Library?" asked Ron. "What an interesting concept!"

"Oh shut up Ron," said Hermione, turning back to Harry. "You know how I wouldn't be doing my grades very well if I got caught getting it back in the dead of night, so could I borrow the Invisibility cloak, please?"

"It's only six Hermione, you're still allowed-" began Ron. Hermione silenced him with a look and turned back to Harry.

"So could I borrow it?" she asked again, her voice dripping with sugary sweetness.

"Uh...yes..." said Harry. "Hang on...I'll get it."

"YES!" said Hermione loudly. Harry turned to face her at the end of the staircase.

"Go on, go on!" said Hermione, making a shooing motion with her hand.

"Ok..."

When he had left Ron turned to Hermione.

"Herm?" he asked, staring at her.

"Yes?" sang Hermoine.

"What're you up to?"

"How dare you!" said Hermoine, mock furious. "I, Hermione Granger, up to something? What in the name of Merlin's wrinkly old bottom are you smoking?"

"In the name of whose old and wrinkly bottom?" asked Ron, wrinkling his nose.

"Oh never mind," Hermione snapped.

Pale moonlight was beginning to stream through her window, crossing to the window Hermoine examined the grounds. Everything was dark and quiet. Turning back something outside on the grounds caught Hermione's eye again. She looked closely before realising what it was. Draco was out by the lake. And he was still crying.