Canon Draco's Internet Adventures

Draco Malfoy was lost. He had been wandering around Knockturn Alley with his father, looking for some carnivorous plants to add to the Manor's gardens, when he had stumbled through a wall and ended up on the Muggle side of London. He hadn't been previously aware of that particular gateway, and he imagined it was one not used very frequently, considering the fact that he was unable to get back through.

At first he had been mortified, to find himself surrounded by so many Muggles; he tried not to breathe too deeply in case he caught something. But now, he was faintly curious as to some of the shops he was passing by. He had no idea what a 'Tanning Salon' was, nor why there was a clown by the name of McDonald selling foul-looking food (although he had to admit it did smell rather pleasant). And he couldn't fathom for the life of him why the post office had no owls inside it. Not even a single barn or tawny. Draco frowned to himself and continued walking.

He stopped outside a café whose patrons were not sipping hot drinks but rather poking flat, grey boards with their fingers and grinning stupidly. Curiosity got the better of Draco, and he stepped inside.

There were a number of those strange, grey machines lined along the walls. Draco walked up to one and squinted at its screen. He sat down in the chair as the person beside him was doing. He looked down at the flat, grey boards the people were poking and saw that they had letters printed on them. Well, he though, let's see what this does. He lifted his fingers and pressed some buttons at random. The characters appeared on the screen. So it's just a Muggle version of parchment then, Draco thought to himself. He looked across at the young guy beside him, who was spelling words with his board and then pressing a larger button. Draco pressed the larger button on his board.

The screen changed, a long list of - "Search results," Draco read off the screen - appearing. He looked down at the letter board again and this time spelt out his name. He looked at the words on the screen and then pressed the big button. To his surprise, another long list of results appeared - more than previously had, according to a number at the top of the page. Draco smiled to himself. Well...these Muggles may be stupid but at least they know what's worth writing about. He took hold of the device to his right - which in Draco's opinion looked like a mouse - and moved the little arrow onto the first result, as the man next to him was doing.

The image on the screen changed. Kind of like their Tee Vees, Draco thought. He clicked some more words until the screen was filled with writing. Spotting his own name, Draco began to read. He frowned, then furrowed his brow, then scratched his head. Someone was writing about him and his life, only they'd got it strangely wrong. And how did Muggles know about him in the first place? Maybe they knew more about Draco's world than they were willing to let on.

Further down the screen Draco spotted a name that made his lip curl in disgust. Harry Potter. He clicked the little arrow to make the words move up the screen. What was Harry Potter, his arch nemesis, doing in a story about Draco? Couldn't the lousy git get his own stories?

Draco began reading from Potter's name. As he did, his forehead creased in confusion, then his face paled, then his eyes widened. "Merlin's beard!" he exclaimed loudly. The other customers in the shop all turned to look at him. Draco went back to the previous screen and tried another story, and then another, but they were all the same. He stood up fast, knocking the chair to the ground, and looked around the room in disgust.

"What the bloody hell is this?" he demanded. The other people stared back at him with puzzled expressions. "You're sick!" Draco yelled. He started for the door, fury rising off him in waves. "When my father hears about this..."

* * *

In late July, several days before the new school year was set to begin at Hogwarts, Draco returned to Diagon Alley, to buy his books and supplies. He kept a shrewd eye on the crowds and found the person he was looking for in Flourish and Blotts.

"Potter," he hissed, grabbing the other boy's arm.

Harry turned around, startled. "Malfoy...what are you doing?"

"Come with me," Draco barked in reply. Despite Harry's protests, he dragged him off to Knockturn Alley. He spotted the nondescript wall that he remembered as the one-way portal to Muggle London, and pushed Harry roughly through. He stepped through afterwards.

"What the hell are you doing, Malfoy?" Harry demanded once Draco crossed through.

"I want to show you something, Potter," Draco replied. "And if you decide to be difficult I'll hex these Muggles right now."

Harry, glancing around at the unsuspecting Muggles that were crowding the streets around them, decided to keep quiet. He followed Draco down the road to an Internet Café. He was somewhat bewildered when Draco walked inside.

"Malfoy," he whispered, "what are we doing here?"

"Just shut up, Potter," Draco hissed back. He led Harry over to a computer and pointed at a chair. "Sit down!" Harry slid cautiously onto the seat.

Draco leaned around him and started pushing buttons on the keyboard with a single index finger. Harry saw that he was typing his name in. "Malfoy, what..." Draco cut him off with a loud press of the Enter button. Harry looked at the screen and watched Draco click the mouse until he was at a page full of writing.

"There," said Draco, leaning back. "Read that."

Harry looked at Draco as if he were an escaped St. Mungo's patient. "Read it!" Draco snapped. Harry turned back to the screen with a frustrated sigh and started reading.

Draco watched his eyes scanning the screen. He waited. Soon he saw Harry's brow crinkle, then his eyes narrow, and then his mouth fall wide open. "What is this?" Harry said.

"You tell me, Potter," Draco replied. "I didn't put it on there. I don't even know how to operate one of these contraptions."

"You think I would write this?" said Harry, incredulously.

"Well, someone did," Draco replied, vehemently. "If this is your idea of a joke, Potter..."

"A joke?" Harry echoed. "Why the hell would I write something like...like that. That's...disgusting."

"I think we both know who has the right to be disgusted," said Draco. "You probably enjoyed reading it. Bring back a few fantasies, did it?"

"You're sick, Malfoy," said Harry. He looked back at the screen. "I would never do this. The idea that I would...with you...it's ridiculous."

Draco snorted derisively. He leaned over and took hold of the mouse again. "Wait till you read the one about Snape."