My name is Harry Potter. Also known as 'The Boy who Lived'.
But that's not important. This isn't about me.
It's about him.
I'm sure you all know of him by now. A sarcastic, sneering, spoilt snob, with all the charm of a poised snake ready to attack. Rich as hell though, and looks that would attract any girl. Since the first day in Hogwarts he's been trying his best to ruin my life in the sneakiest, most Slytherin ways possible, the most recent method being getting that horrible woman Rita Skeeter to spread her fabricated lies about me and my friends.
Nice? Definitely not.
Luckily for me however, he left. Right in the middle of the fifth year… he left. To where he went no one knows, although it's a common rumor that he went to Durmstrang.
I wish I could say our farewell was a nice or at least civil one, like the ones people read in books. Enemies approach each other; shake hands, say sorry, then part.
Like I said: I WISH.
He left with a nice shiner on his left eye and a dislocated left arm. So much for pleasant farewells.
But like I said earlier, this Draco Malfoy was not a nice kid. Anything but.
So imagine my reaction, two years later, when I found he was coming back…
Harry slammed his hands on the table, pushing his chair back.
"Malfoy's coming back?" he yelled.
"Mr. Potter, please sit down" McGonagall said, obviously irritated.
"Damn it! Why's he coming back?" Harry demanded, ignoring the teacher.
"Um… Professor…" Hermione spoke up timidly, trying to calm McGonagall down. "Why are you telling us? Why not make a… a school announcement?"
The class murmured their assent.
Hermione's tactic worked. McGonagall calmed down, and Ron had time to reach over and yank his friend down.
"This is rather important, Ms. Granger… it was a sudden arrival, you see" the teacher said.
"Why tell us, though? And surely it can't be that important?" Hermione asked. More murmuring from the class.
"Yeah, it being Malfoy and all" Ron muttered.
"Well, because…" McGonagall paused. "It's not really something I can explain right now… I'll just get him first, then explain"
She walked out of the room.
"What's he doing, coming back here?" Harry said.
"Durmstrang probably kicked him out," Hermione said.
"Yeah" Ron chuckled. "His 'holier-than-thou' attitude finally pissed them off"
"Why does he have to come back here?" Harry asked somewhat fiercely. "Doesn't he have a more 'high-bred' place to go to?"
"Probably" Ron replied. "But come on, this is Malfoy here. Who would take him?"
"Quiet everyone!" McGonagall said, returning through the doors. There was instant silence as everyone craned their heads and swiveled their chairs round to try see the blonde.
"You can go now, Draco" McGonagall said in a softer voice.
"I don't see him," whispered Ron.
"Neither do I" whispered Hermione. Now the room was deadly quiet.
"What?" A look of mingled irritation and amusement flickered onto the elderly teacher's face. "Alright then"
She walked straight to Harry's desk.
"He's been through a lot, so put up with him, alright?" she said in a low voice to Harry before walking to the front of the room with a sweep of her robes. Harry looked to the space next to him. Nothing.
There was a sudden warmth on his arm and he looked down in alarm.
"I found you," the boy said in a soft voice, nestling his face into Harry's soft sweater. "I've finally, finally found you"
Harry didn't care about what other people would think. He reacted on impulse.
"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?" he hollered, yanking his arm away.
"Mr. Potter!" McGonagall said, quite exasperated now. "Ten points from Gryffindor!"
The boy looked at him with his large, sky blue eyes, currently filled with sadness and brimming with tears. For an instant Harry thought he had gone too far; that the kid was going to cry. To his great relief, the boy turned to the table, biting his lip and hugging himself tightly.
"Professor McGonagall, this isn't Malfoy" Harry said, calming down a bit. He thought he heard a small whimper from the boy but dismissed it. The professor paused.
"Talk to me after class, Mr. Potter" she said, and that was that.
"Me and Dumbledore have checked, Mr. Potter. I assure you, that is Mr. Malfoy" McGonagall said. Harry looked at the little boy, sitting in a dark corner, huddled up with his knees pulled up to his chest.
"But… he can't be, look, this kid, he can't be over six" Harry said. He looked at how small the boy's body seemed to be inside his large, baggy clothing. "And look! He's… he's wearing a t-shirt! He's wearing a baseball cap! Malfoy wouldn't wear something like that!"
The boy looked at him and Harry once again got view of those large, blue eyes… so piercing. It just wasn't right for a normal boy.
McGonagall was watching Harry intently. "Aren't those his eyes, Mr. Potter?"
Harry felt a pang of guilt as he felt himself drowning in those eyes, so filled with sadness and hope.
"He came here by Floo powder. Just appeared in Dumbledore's office, in this state. Was quite hysterical; he wouldn't stop screaming. Poppy had to give him a mild sedative to get him to calm down, and even after that he said he only would talk to one person," she said quietly, and at her last words looked directly at Harry.
"So what did McGonagall say?" Ron asked.
"I have to look after him," Harry said glumly. "Until they figure out what's happening"
Ron glanced at the boy sitting silently on the edge of the bed. "Are you sure that's Malfoy?"
"That's what I asked her, but she says she's positive it's him"
Hermione moved in front of the little boy. "What's your name?" she asked softly. The boy tipped the front of the baseball cap down so it covered his eyes.
"She asked you a question," Harry said. The boy trembled.
Harry sighed. "Guys, could you leave for a moment please?"
Ron and Hermione looked surprised.
"Uh… okay Harry… whatever you say…" Ron said and they left. Harry took a deep breath.
"Okay, one more time… what's your name?" Harry asked.
"D… Draco Malfoy" the boy replied, his voice shaking.
"Wrong!" Harry rolled off the bed onto his feet and walked in front of the boy.
"No, you know what? No you're not. I don't care if McGonagall says you're him, but you're not" he said. "Look at me when I talk to you!"
The boy flinched and looked up, eyes filled with unshed tears. Harry felt that twinge of guilt again but did nothing about it.
"So, tell me again, and no lies this time… WHO ARE YOU?"
"D… Draco Malfoy"
Harry took another deep breath and knelt down to stare the boy in the face. The kid stared at him, as if transfixed by his emerald eyes. It was unnerving, to tell the truth.
"Okay, look. Game over, alright? It's not funny. Now, tell me who you are, and tell me the truth. What. Is. Your. Name" he said in the most 'tell-me-the-truth-or-die' voice he could muster.
The boy looked down and hesitated, then, after a long silence, looked up and stared Harry somewhat defiantly in the face and said "Draco Malfoy"
Harry slammed his fist on the bed in frustration, making the boy jump. The raven-haired teen ran a hand through his unruly black locks and sighed.
"Okay, you know what? I'm going to take a shower, and when I come back, you tell me your real name, alright?" he said, walking to the bathroom.
"My name is Draco Malfoy" the boy insisted.
"No its not!" Harry whirled around and shouted. "He's gone, gone, and I don't ever want to see him again. You are not him!"
With that he stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door. He stripped and stepped into the shower, turning it as hot as his skin could handle. Within a few moments the room was steaming and foggy. Harry took a deep breath and felt his muscles relax as the water trickled down his forehead to his body and feet, his mess of hair sticking to his face and neck. He heard the door open and there was a sudden chill.
"I need to shower too" the boy said plaintively.
"AHHH!" Harry yelled. He fumbled for a towel then wrapped it around his waist hurriedly, the water still running and wetting it. He switched off the shower and felt for his glasses and put them on, then realized he couldn't see out of them anyway, they were so fogged up.
The boy watched in amusement as Harry finally put on his glasses, after wiping them on his towel.
"Don't walk in like that on me!" Harry said, blushing slightly despite himself.
"I'm a boy too" the child giggled. "And how are you going to dry yourself with that towel?"
Harry realized how ridiculous he looked, standing, dripping in the shower with nothing on but his glasses and a soggy towel. He was about to reply bitingly to the boy then stopped and stared.
"Professor Dumbledore… I'm sure you can tell this isn't Malfoy"
"Oh?" the elderly headmaster raised an eyebrow.
"Look at him!" Harry said.
"What about him?"
Harry wondered sometimes if Dumbledore was losing his mind or if he was being thick on purpose. "His hair, Professor!"
"Yes, what about it?"
"It's…" Harry searched for a word. "Brown!" he said, looking at him. The boy's hair was a mess of mouse-brown spikes, running in curly waves down the sides in front of his ears.
"Malfoy's hair isn't brown!" Harry said. Dumbledore smiled at him.
"Harry… if you were a redhead, would that change the fact that you were still Harry?"
"I have checked. This is indeed Mr. Malfoy"
"Cockroach cluster, Harry?" Dumbledore opened his drawer and offered the packet to the teenager.
"Uh, no. Thanks"
"Are you sure? Well alright then, you don't know what you're missing…" the headmaster popped one of the yellow sweets into his mouth and sighed in happiness. "Delicious. Now, what were we talking about again?"
"This… this kid"
"Oh, yes. What about him?"
Harry wanted to scream but calmed himself down. "Sir, he's not Malfoy. I'm positive"
"Would you like a cockroach cluster?" Dumbledore asked the boy. The boy suddenly stood up and slammed his small hands, palms down, flat onto the headmaster's table.
"I am Draco Malfoy" he said. Dumbledore smiled and the boy glared at him momentarily before taking a cockroach cluster and plonking himself back down on the floor.
"I think you should be getting back to class now, Harry. Severus will no doubt be worried" Dumbledore said.
"And take young Mr. Malfoy here with you. Tell Severus you have my permission. Hurry now!"
"Harry?" Draco asked.
"What?" Harry snapped.
"What's 'fugging' mean?"
"Fugging" Draco repeated.
"Where did you hear that?"
Draco giggled. "From you"
"Fugging senile mad old coot" Draco quoted. He grinned. "You said it when we left the room"
"Don't listen to what I say next time" Harry said, stirring the potion. There was a pause, then Draco said "You need more caterpillar"
"You need more caterpillar" Draco repeated.
"How would you know?"
"I just know!"
"Right" Harry kept on stirring. He saw Draco go somewhere out of his peripheral vision, but ignored it as he saw Snape approach.
Suddenly out of nowhere three caterpillars flew into the cauldron.
Snape appeared over his shoulder and looked at his potion. He scowled.
"You've finally made a good potion. Bravo on you" he said scathingly and left. Harry couldn't believe it. No rebuke?
He felt a tug on his trousers.
"I told you it was the caterpillars" Draco whispered.