From Durmstrang with Care by Ryllis

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author's Note: This is my first fic ever so sorry if it really sucks. But if it does, feel free to tell me! This will hopefully be Harry/Draco.

Summary: Ever wonder why in the world would Draco Malfoy go to Hogwarts instead of Durmstrang? This is what I think what would have happened. Sorry if anybody's disappointed that I made him transfer to Hogwarts, but I love my Harry and Draco!

Rating: PG-13? I don't know, I'm just guessing. But since I'm fifteen and I'm writing this, it can't be that explicit...right?


The word spread around school like wildfire. There was a new student transferring to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And it was the son of one Lucius Malfoy, a known Death Eater on the run from the Ministry. A Malfoy. What was Professor Dumbledore thinking? Sure, most of the Slytherins were headed towards a future of Killing and Voldemort, but allowing a Malfoy to attend Hogwarts! The Malfoys had a long history of what they would call Pure-blood superiority, but what the rest of the wizarding world called hatred against all things non Pure-blood.

Lucius Malfoy's face had been plastered all over the Wizard newspapers, with headlines like Malfoy on Run from Ministry or Malfoy Proved to Be in Cohorts with You-Know-Who. Eventually, all the students at school couldn't think of You-Know-Who without thinking of his right-hand man, Lucius Malfoy. And now his son was going to attend their school.

And there were three students in particular who were dreaing the new boy's arrival. At the moment, the three seventh-years were currently huddled in a secluded corner of the Gryffindor Common Room.

They sat around a sitting table, their books, various parchments, and quills scattered around them, forgotten.

"I mean, honestly, what is Dumbledore thinking? Either he's finally gone completely batty or You-Know-Who has finally gotten to him. Either way, it's not safe here!" the red-head's voice grew steadily louder.

"Shh!" the lone girl admonished, "Dumbledore is the greatest wizard alive! Even You-Know-Who is afraid of him. You know Hogwarts is the safest place to be right now. He wouldn't just let a Malfoy attend without good reason."

"But Dumbledore let Barty Crouch in here! What if Lucius Malfoy is tricking Dumbledore? He's a Death Eater! They're all a bunch of sly-"

"Oh, don't be daft! There's no way tha-"

"Daft! You're alwa-"

"Ron! Hermione!" the black-haired boy finally spoke up. "Please stop arguing. There's no use fighting over this. Besides, you know after that whole mess during our fourth year that Dumbledore has been more careful than ever."

After Hermione's emphatic nod and Ron's more reluctant one, he continued. "Now let's not waste anymore time talking about the Malfoys. We'll know more when he gets here tomorrow. I think we should just go to bed and sleep on it."

"Alright," Hermione and Ron both agreed.

They all picked up their books and carefully balanced their scrolls and quills on top.

The stairs to the Gryffindor boy's tower was the closest. Ron bade them both goodnight, giving Hermione a quick peck on the lips before disappearing up the stairwell.

The remaining two walked to Hermione's room next. As Headgirl, she had her own room, secluded from the rest of the Gryffindors.

"You know, you don't have to walk me all the way to my room," she smiled teasingly, used to the other's concern over her safety.

"I know," the boy just smiled before turning back towards his own room as Hermione spoke the password to her room.

"Goodnight, Harry!" Hermione called after him, already halfway through the hole.

"Night, Mione," he called back, turning around briefly to watch her climb through the hole and close the portrait shut.

Despite Harry's veneer of calm, he was anything but. Out of his three friends, he was the only one to actually ever meet Lucius Malfoy. Just thinking about their encounter made Harry sick to his stomach.

It had been the day Cedric had died. They had both grabbed the snitch during the final Quidditch tournament and found themselves transported to a cemetary where Voldemort, Wormtail, and Lucius Malfoy awaited him. He remembered Lucius Malfoy clearly, the pale skin, long blond-white hair, and cold, calculating eyes. They had immediately killed Cedric; echoes of "Kill the spare" and "Avada Kedavra" haunted him still. They had then used his blood to resurrect Voldemort.

Harry supressed a shudder as he reached his own room. As the Gryffindor prefect, he got his own room as well, but closer than Hermione's to the other Gryffindors. His, however, unlike Hermione's, just had a normal door.

Harry stumbled over to his bed, weary and overanxious of the new arrival. He pulled his black robes off and slipped into his pajamas.

He lay in bed, unable to fall asleep for another hour, memories and fears crowding his thoughts.


Narcissa Malfoy was not a happy witch.

Ever since her husband had disappeared with the Dark Lord last winter, her life had changed drastically. The Ministry had arrived at Malfoy Manor a week after Lucius had fled, demanding to search the entire Malfoy Manor.

Naturally, Narcissa agreed. And naturally, they had found certain items that Lucius had not bothered to sell to Mr. Borgin.

After spending a few weeks in their custody, she was released. But she had missed spending the winter holidays with Draco. She was still able to send him his gifts, however, and he did send her a gift as well. Instead, her son had had to spend his holidays at school. She had been outraged and had voiced her opinion loudly. Her son had just 'lost' his father and his mother was being detained by the Ministry. He needed his mother. Yet she had been unable to do anything but wait the process out.

The following summer, she and Draco had grown closer than ever. Before Lucius' disappearance, they had both kept to polite pleasantries out of Lucius' scorn for emotions. But now.things were different.

Despite the implications of her name, Narcissa Malfoy loved her son above all else. And that was why she was not a happy witch.

After discovering what had been going on with her son at school and at home with Lucius, Narcissa had had a tantrum. She had broken into Lucius' previously untouched bedroom, save for the Ministry, and promptly broken and ripped everything in sight.

After calming herself down, she had immediately pulled Draco from school and gotten his godfather to pull some strings to allow Draco to attend Hogwarts instead.

Her poor, little Dragon. She gazed across the carriage to the face of her son. When Draco slept he looked even more vulnerable than the night she had accidentally entered his room after he had come out of his bath.

His white-blond hair, whiter than his father's, fell out of its gell, sweeping across his face. His eyelids fluttered and pinched while his eyebrows alternately furrowed then relaxed. And every once in a while his mouth would twitch and his jaw would clench. He looked so lost.

She carefully pulled Draco's fur cape up to his neck so as not to distrub him; he got cold easily. Yet, despite her cautious movements, the boy still woke up with a start. When he saw the distrubance was his mother, he smiled faintly, sadly, and turned his head towards the window.

It was a cloudless night and Draco could see the thousands of stars that littered the night sky. The light from the carriage swung back and forth, casting eeries shadows outside the window.

"Are we almost there?"

"Yes, almost. Actually, look over there," she placed a finger on the window towards a point in the vast darkness. "You can see the Astronomy Tower."

Draco peered into the night. Yes, he could see a grey, stone tower in the distance.

"Will you owl me?" Draco's voice was quiet.

"Of course, Draco! Every week on Sunday, okay?"

"Yeah," Draco agreed with a quick quirk of a smile.

They lapsed into silence as they approached Hogwarts. The nearer they got, the more nervous Draco become. The only sign of his anxiety, however, the slight twisting of his hands. But Narcissa was grateful for the visible sign of emotion. Her son was very good at hiding his emotions from people he didn't trust or felt threatened by. That he could show his nervousness, even in something so small, brought forth a new spurt of motherly love.

As they entered the gates, Narcissa placed her hands over Draco's, stilling them as well as calming and comforting her son all at once.

"I'm glad we got to spend the holidays together this year, Draco," she gave he son a warm smile and squeezed his hands.

He returned both gestures. "Me too, mum."

The carriage stopped and the door opened. Immediately, Draco's face shut down; it become a blank slate. Although Draco did this every single time he was around everybody but her, it still sent shivers down Narcissa's spine whenever he did it.

A black-haired man appeared, helping them both out of the carriage. He gestured for the house-elves to pick up Draco's belongings.

"Severus, how are you?" Narcissa greeted the man with real warmth as they walked to the entrance hall, Draco walking slightly behind them.

"Eh.good, Sissy," the man looked uncomfortable. "Is this Draco, then?"

"Oh, yes!" Narcissa smiled at Draco over her shoulder, gesturing for him to stand beside her.

"Severus, this is Draco. Draco, this is Severus Snape, your godfather. He's also the Potions professor here, the best for the job," Narcissa introduced the two. "You know, he's the youngest Potions Master alive."

Draco smiled politely, not all fazed to meet the imposing man whom he had never heard or seen of, and shook the older man's hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you, professor. Potions was my favorite class back at Durmstrang."

Snape echoed the sentiments. Oh yes, Draco was good. The professor knew what had happened at Draco's former school; Narcissa had told him all about it. But the boy had barely hesitated before stating the school's name. If Snape hadn't been hyper-observant about everything about this boy, he would never had noticed it.

They climbed up the great stone steps and entered the entrance hall. It was bright and big, completely different from Durmstrang's entrance hall.

"I'm afraid this is where I must leave you, Draco," Narcissa's voice was filled with regret.

"I know, mother."

Draco had reverted back to mother, Narcissa noted. But, of course, they were in public, in front of a stranger no less, she added to herself.

However, to his credit, Snape had retreated, leaving them some privacy to say goodbye in private. Instead, he spoke quietly to the house-elves, instructing them on what to do with Draco's belongings. He and Dumbledore had decided not to sort Draco into a house. Instead, he would just room with the other Slytherins, as he was under Snape's supervision.

When Draco noticed that Snape's back was to him, he gave his mother a quick hug and peck on the cheek.

"I love you, mum."

Narcissa smiled and made to ruffle his hair. At Draco's mock warning glare, she just laughed and did it anyway.

"I love you too, my dragon," she kissed Draco on the cheek and hugged him tightly before sweeping back into the night.

Draco stood in the middle of the hall, watching her exit, unknowing of Snape's watchful gaze.

The professor cleared his throat uneasily.

Draco's entire body jerked into attention. He swiftly turned on his heel to face the man, self-consciously patting down his hair.

"Well, would you like to see your room first or would you like to eat?" Snape asked.

"I'd like to eat first, thank you," Draco answered with as much dignity as was possible while still trying to tame his hair. Eventually, he got it under control, so that each hair was in its precise place.

The boy's concern about his hair made Snape uncomfortable with his own state of hair, but he shrugged off his uneasiness. It was silly to let a boy more than 15 years his junior to make him feel inadequate.

He nodded in accordance to the boy's wishes and led him to the Great Hall. He briefly explained Draco's arrangements.

"Professor Dumbledore and I have decided not to sort you into a house this year. Instead, you will stay in the dungeons with me and my house, the Slytherins. You will attend classes with the other Slytherins, but you can pick which classes you would like to take. Alright?" Snape realized he was being rather forceful and tried to even it out with a feeble question at the end.

"That sounds reasonable. With whom should I talk to about which classes to take?"

"Well, normally you would talk to the head of you house-me, but Professor Dumbledore wishes to talk to you after dinner, so you can talk to him about classes then."

Draco was about to reply, when they reached the Great Hall. Snape pushed open the giant doors.