Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling is the owner of it, through and through.
A/N this is my first Draco/Harry novel, and if it is choppy at first, I do apologize, I'm so far unaccustomed to thinking the way they do, and I hope to stick to their personalities as much as possible.
Like Bolloks It's a New Start..
Draco Malfoy stared despondently out of the window looking out onto the Malfoy Manor. Tonight was the last night home before he would be starting his eighth year. He knew not many we're coming back for their eighth year, and yet his Mother insisted. 'It'll help us get back our name, if you can finish your studies and get a worthy job.' was her excuse; but with him bearing the dark mark on his arm, and his Father in Azkaban; he couldn't see how going back to Hogwarts would be of any help at all.
His trunk was all packed, everything pristine and perfect. It didn't matter that his family was torn apart, and that the Dark Lord had made their house into headquarters. It didn't make a difference that people were tortured and killed just a few floors beneath where he slept; all that counted, was that he kept up the Malfoy pride, and didn't let anyone destroy that.
It was embarrassing to have to face the students of Hogwarts after being the cause of their precious headmaster getting killed; even if he wasn't essentially the one that killed him. He let in the Death Eaters and…he shuddered, he had constant nightmares and although taking a Sleeping Draught helped sometimes, he couldn't take it every night, and so, he faced his nightmares, trembling awake whenever it felt too real.
Of course, none of this bothered his Mother. All she cared about was herself, and being welcomed back into society, through whatever means possible. If that wild card was her son, so be it.
Draco scowled angrily and pulled his eyes from the window. It was nothing new, not to him. Yes, it was renovated slightly, fixed up from the horrors The Dark Lord had put upon it, but the basic look of it was the same, and until he became the Lord of the Malfoy house, it would be staying that way.
He passed his mirror on the way to his bed, and automatically looked into it. He had let his hair grow out during the summer holidays, and his platinum blond locks now reached his shoulders. His hair didn't need brushing or taming, but he combed it back nonetheless, making it shine. His clothes were impeccable. He always wore his robes, even at home, with a shirt and a pair of trousers to complete the outfit. His personal house elf, Citrin, would always make sure it was ironed to perfection, and that a fresh pair of robes and clothes were always ready for when he woke up.
Feeling hungry, he flopped onto his bed, and summoned Citrin.
"Yes Master Malfoy?"
"I'm feeling a little hungry Citrin. I'd like something fresh cooked for me."
Citrin hopped back and forth looking nervous. "Anything specific Master Malfoy sir?" he squeaked.
"Fried Chicken, and maybe some pasta and vegetables on the side" Draco nodded to himself, and waited for Citrin to leave, so he could get his food already.
Citrin didn't move.
"Well? What are you waiting for?" Draco said annoyed. "Get going!"
"Of course, Master Malfoy, Citrin is be going right now." Citrin replied, banging his head on the door right before he apparated with a pop.
Draco rolled his eyes. House elves were seriously stupid.
It didn't take long before Citrin returned, tray in hand, with his desired foods. He merely nodded; he never verbally thanked his house elves. They liked to work, not be praised.
Citrin looked at him while he ate, waiting for further instructions. He knew he was packed for the next day, but perhaps he had missed something? It was always possible. He swallowed before speaking, wiping his mouth with the linen napkin Citrin had provided for him. "Citrin, look around the room, and see if I've missed anything I need for the School year.
Citrin bowed, his nose touching the floor, but quickly stood up to follow orders. He scurried about, opening and closing drawers and sifting through Draco's cupboard seeing if his master had indeed left anything of importance.
Draco chuckled slightly, watching him, putting a forkful of food in his mouth every so often. Citrin didn't find anything but Draco wasn't surprised. He couldn't think of anything he could have possibly missed. He was so particular about these things.
But suddenly, Citrin was squeaking in excitement holding up a fancy looking journal.
Oh, he thought, as he reached his hand out for it, and Citrin immediately brought it forward without a word.
He had gotten this as an anonymous 18th birthday present, but the card, although handwritten, was not signed. The handwriting was vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place it. He kept it hidden from his Mother, who was very nosy, and if she didn't know who had given him the gift, she'd immediately burn it, no matter how valuable the object was. And as he had come to figure out; this journal was quite costly and precious.
He opened the journal to the first page and read it over, grinning slightly.
Oh, wow. This journal is so interesting. Wait, what, why is this writing down what I'm thinking, I'm not even writing hmmm…I wonder if that is indeed how this works, it writes exactly what your mind is thinking, so in essence it saves you time, and it will record everything that you think about lest you forget..I'd better start a new page..
June 5th, 1998
Oh, nice, it even writes the date, if you think about it.
Well, here goes. So this gift I got from somebody. I can't say who because I don't know. It's a little dampening on my pride, as I seem to know quite a lot, and I am not generally wrong. I like this, it's nice not to have to write down my thoughts, not that I'm lazy of course, but I am a Pureblood, and like the house elves, and magic, sometimes it's easier to have things done for me, rather than do it myself. Except that time, perhaps, where Potter (bloody Potter) Hey! Fuck..UGH! Okay, whatever, where Potter saved my life from the fiendfyre. That I most probably couldn't have done myself. He came back for me. That was mighty nice of him, especially since we were enemies for six years prior. But that was HIS FAULT! I was initiated the friendship, he was just stupid enough not to accept. Whatever. I don't want that in this journal.
Hogwarts is this year, it isn't usual that Hogwarts teaches students past their seventh year, but because of the Dark Lord, and the chaos that reigned during the year, it was decided that they would let the seventh years back, so that they can "relearn" whatever they might have missed out on. I am so far refusing to go…but I doubt I'll have a choice in the matter. Mother wants me to go back, and she insists every bloody day since School let out last year, that I return this year. So far, I've said no. I know I'll change my mind; but I wouldn't tell her that. I do like learning, and giving her the satisfaction of hearing me say, "Yes Mother, I will go" is just not allowable in my books.
I have an owl already, do you think they'd let me bring a cat as well. Yes, it's a very Hufflepuff thing to want something to cuddle with…But hey..who knows I'm sure they wouldn't notice. I'll go to Diagon Alley the day before School starts, so as not to make Mother suspicious…
That's all for now, I should think. Well, I shouldn't think, or words will keep filling this strange journal…
Draco looked up from his perusing. Citrin was no longer in the room. He didn't remember giving her the order that he could leave, but maybe he did? He shrugged; and lay down amongst the swarm of pillows, that were littering his bed.
It was still light outside. He had completely forgotten about the desire to get himself a cat. But it wasn't four yet, and Diagon Alley would still be opened.
Making a split second decision, he jumped out of bed, and left the tray on the counter, Citrin automatically popping in, and taking it back to the kitchen. He stowed his journal in his pocket, and took some galleons lying around in his draw, slipping it into his pocket.
He descended the stairs slowly; Malfoy's never ran, and then strolled into the Drawing Room where his Mother was sitting, reading the Daily Prophet. He didn't know why she read that trash rag, it always said bad things about his family; but he never interfered in her business, like he yearned she wouldn't butt into his.
"I'm going out, Mother." He told her, he never asked either. It was just for her benefit that she knew her son was out, she didn't need to know all the details. But like any mother, she pressed for details.
"Where to, Draco?" she asked, in a pleasant yet suspicious tone. Why his mother would be suspicious of him was beyond his understanding. But he figured he'd answer her this time. He'd get out quicker.
"Diagon Alley." He muttered in a monotone, and made his way to the door; not waiting for her to reply. She didn't. Just like he'd thought.
He left the Manor, and walked a bit till he was out of the wards, then he apparated; right into the outside of the Leaky Cauldron.
Magical Menagerie, where he was headed was closer to the end of Diagon Alley. He didn't mind the walk, but if he would meet a whole bunch of parents and students who would sneer at him, and call him names, that, he wasn't sure he'd be able to handle. He wasn't a prissy girl, not by any means, but there was a limit to how much his pride could handle.
He ignored everyone in the Leaky Cauldron, and made his way to the back of the pub, where the entrance to Diagon Alley was. He tapped the bricks methodically, and then opened his eyes in wonder. No matter how many times he went here, the magical aura, and excitement that was present would always flow through him, exciting him as well.
He already had everything he needed, and so, he passed by the Apothecary, cauldron shop, Quality Quidditch Supplies and Eeylops Owl Emporium. His eyes roamed around him, taking in the familiar landscape. Flourish and Blotts, Madam malkin's robes for All Occasions, and Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor all looked back at him innocently. His stomach growled, and he marveled at how fast his metabolism worked. He'd be stopping by the ice cream shop later, that was for sure.
He kept walking, and passed Gringotts bank, eyes glinting as the small shop Magical Menagerie, finally came into his eyesight. He quickened his stride; and entered the store, immediately looking around at all the magical creatures within.
"I'll be with you in a moment." A voice sounded from somewhere between the stuffed aisles.
He continued glancing around, and saw some cute looking kittens; some were staring at him with curiosity, and others were snoozing.
He waited patiently, and finally after only a minute, a grubby looking witch came to the counter to where he stood.
"How can I help you?" she asked with well hidden disdain.
Draco scowled, but kept his head held high, and pointed to the kittens that were still staring at him. "I'd like to take a look at those, if I may" he asked, his voice cold. She turned around to see where he was pointing.
"Ah," was all she said, but she beckoned for him to follow, and he did; eyeing the different felines as he got closer.
Suddenly, he saw one with pure white skin, and startling green eyes. He couldn't remove his eyes from it, and immediately knew that was the kitten he wanted.
"I want that one," he interrupted her, before she could move further.
For the first time since he'd walked into the store, she smiled. She took the cage down from the shelf, with the small kitten now struggling to stand, and overlook the proceedings.
"This one's special," she mused, eyeing the cat happily. "He's only three and a half weeks old, and for some strange reason, you have been the only one to notice him since he was born."
Draco raised his eyebrows staring at the kitten who was now pawing at the cage, trying to get out. The witch opened the cage and let the kitten out, handing him to Draco to hold.
"Be careful, Mr. Malfoy, kittens' are delicate creatures, especially when they are young. Their eyesight doesn't fully work until they are about three months of age."
Draco nodded carefully, not bothering to ask how she knew he was a Malfoy. He was sure it was glaringly obvious just from his looks.
"He has yet to be named, however, so that is totally up to you."
"Orion." Draco said convincingly, and Orion meowed in acknowledgement.
"He's a bit more expensive than the other cats, because of his abilities."
"His mother knew whenever there was danger present, and it works tenfold, when the cat is actually owned, the cat will learn its' owner, and protect it as it grows."
"How much?" Draco interrupted her again.
Her eyes narrowed, but she answered anyway. 19 Galleons 14 Sickles and 18 Knuts. 1 Draco shelled out the money easily and then looked up at the witch to see if there was anything else that he needed. She handed him a book on the how's of new kittens, and what they need. She handed him a collar, game him a smile that looked more like a grimace, and then retreated to the back of the store once more.
Draco rolled his eyes at the impoliteness of it all, and took hold of Orion more carefully. Orion crawled up his shoulder and wrapped himself around Draco's neck and shoulder, and sat there, comfortably looking around at his new world. Draco raised his eyes in surprise, but shrugged his shoulders, not bothering to think too deeply into it. Cat's would be cats, after all.
He strolled through Diagon Alley, feeling more alert and content, now that he had a companion. His stomach growled again, and he remembered Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. He sauntered over and opened the door. The bell clanged as he entered. It had been renovated since Florean's disappearance, and now the store was magically enhanced to be larger, and more lit. The atmosphere in the store was a happy one, and was filled with young children as well as adults. He gave a quick glance over the customers, but didn't look too deeply. His stomach ached in hunger, and all he wanted to do now was satisfy his complaining stomach. He stepped up to the counter, and was pleasantly surprised when Florean offered him a smile, instead of the scowl or anger he was used to seeing. He grinned back, immediately feeling more comfortable.
"What have you got to offer?" he asked curiously, eying the different colored ice creams, and toppings.
"Well, we have something new this year, I've dubbed the 'floreanch'"
Draco raised his eyebrows, and stared fascinated at Florean. "Floreanch?"
"Yes, it is the soft ice creams mixed with anything and everything you could want, it's your choice."
Draco's eyes lit up, but he quickly hid it behind his mask. No need to get so thrilled about ice cream. "Err, okay, that sounds like an idea; can I have vanilla ice cream, with peanut butter, and erm…"he eyed the display looking over all the things they had. Chocolate frogs were amongst them, but he wasn't in the mood of that. He wanted to eat something with crunch. They had black cookies there, and then cookies that were mushed into small pieces, easy enough to eat without chewing, it would seem. "..and that." Draco said, pointing to the crushed cookies.
"Is that all, Mr. Malfoy?" Florean asked cheerfully. Draco glanced at the rest of the toppings, but nothing else popped out at him. "Yes, that's all."
"What size would you like?" he asked and pointed at the cup sizes on top of the counter. Draco felt his stomach complain loudly, and without much thought pointed at the large.
While Florean worked on his 'floreanch' Draco took the time to look around again. He couldn't see anyone he recognized, but then again, he never really paid attention to anyone younger then him, least of all, anyone that wasn't in his House. Of course, if there were certain Gryffindor's there, he was sure he'd recognize them but no one was sitting inside the café. He turned to face the tables outside, just as a very recognizable figure entered Florean's shop.
"Here you go, buddy." Florean said, "9 sickles and 8 knuts 2"
Draco fished into his pockets his heart pounding. Harry Potter was coming closer, and if he didn't get out of the shop soon….His hand closed on a Galleon, not caring about the extra money, he dropped it on the counter muttering "Keep the change."
Draco tried to scamper out of the shop then, clutching his 'floreanch' in one hand, and the bag that contained Orion's things in the other. He looked very foolish he was sure, and a faint flush reached his cheeks.
He had made it about two paces, before a hand closed around his arm. He flinched; wrenching his arm away caused Orion to hiss, and he looked up to meet the beryl eyes of Harry Potter. Potter merely smiled at him, eyes staring at him curiously; but not with malice. He sighed; "Potter," he acknowledged.
"Malfoy," Potter said in kind, and then paused, as if wondering what else he could say. Draco eyed him warily, not moving from his post. Orion wasn't hissing anymore, and Draco took that as a sign that Potter meant him no harm.
"Anything I can do for you, Potter?" Draco finally asked, the silence getting too much for him. He had places to be, after all.
"Err, nothing in particular, I was just wondering…I-I mean...would you like to talk?"
"Talk, Potter?" he drawled, raising one perfectly shaped brow.
Potter sighed, flushing; "Well, nothing in particular, of course, I just …well..I was wondering how you were doing." He finished, looking down, not meeting Draco's eyes.
But Draco didn't need Potter to be looking at him, for him to have the ability to read Potter like a book. The other man was like an opened page, begging to be read.
"I'll wait outside, Potter." Draco said finally, but with no emotion in his voice.
Potter looked up at him, relief eminent on his face. "Thanks," he replied softly.
Draco shrugged, and left Florean's shop quickly, not looking back, lest someone was jeering at him. He began eating his ice cream with gusto, being careful not to drip anywhere. It didn't; it never did. He was too careful for that, no matter how fast he ate, or what he ate, he still was impeccably clean, and polite.
Potter came out about five minutes later, a similar concoction held cautiously in his hand. He moved to the table where Draco was sitting, and sat down hesitantly. "I don't bite, Potter." Draco said, rolling his eyes at Potter's careful ministrations. Potter seemed to realize how foolish he was acting, and sat down quickly, putting a glob of ice cream in his mouth, as if that would take away his embarrassment.
It didn't, as some ice cream dribbled down his chin. A twitch of annoyance went through Draco as he watched Potter's mannerisms. "You've got a melted strip of ice cream on your chin, Potter." Draco said, irritation evident in his voice.
A smooth tongue slipped out between Potter's lips, and he licked at his chin, trying, but failing to clean away the ice cream that slipped further down Potter's chin. "Use a napkin, for fucks sake!" Draco growled, wondering why seeing Potter act like a fool and a slob was bothering him so much. It wasn't as if Draco had to teach him manners. He wasn't a pureblood, and didn't have anything to follow, no real pride to keep.
"Sorry," Potter mumbled, once the offensive ice cream was finally wiped away.
Draco just shrugged, looking away. More time passed, and nothing more was said between the two of them.
"You wanted to talk?" Draco initiated, his exasperation filled to bursting point.
"I..Ah…Yes." Potter said, staring at Draco directly.
Draco watched as Potter's eyes drifted to Orion still sitting comfortably about his shoulders.
"You got yourself a cat, I see." Potter said, as ways of beginning the now long overdue conversation.
"Orion." Draco said automatically, "and yes, I did."
Potter nodded, his eyes glazing as his gaze focused on Orion completely, taking in every detail.
"Why'd you get yourself a cat, it's certainly not your type to care for one."
Draco scowled. Nobody knew what his 'type' was. "A spontaneous impulse." He replied coldly, eyes narrowing. It was seriously none of Potter's business. He still had some ice cream left, but he'd be damned if he finished it in Potter's presence. Potter seriously was the most irritating thing born on this earth.
Standing up, Draco took his bag and ice cream, and then without another word to Potter started strolling away.
"Wait!" Potter called back to him, a strain to his voice.
Draco stopped, but didn't turn around. "What do you want, Potter. I am no longer in the mood to be in your company, I have things to do, and places to be." Seems to be my mantra today, Draco smirked to himself. Places to be, indeed. He seriously had no intention of going back to the Manor just yet, but Potter did not need to know that.
"I'm sorry," Potter's voice carried, and then came closer. He was suddenly standing face to face again, and he stepped back in surprise. He would let Potter stew, he would not answer until he knew what Potter was apologizing for, and why.
Thirty seconds of strained silence later, and Potter finally gave in. About bloody time. I would have thought it would take him five seconds, before his Gryffindor heart bled all over my sleeve.
"I know how you have been through a lot, and I was wondering, if maybe you wanted to be…" he stopped there, his face blushing a tomato red, looking very out of place on his tanned features. It did add a nice touch though. Again, Draco let Potter dwell in his thoughts, waiting for him to finish his sentence. Nothing he said would change the Gryffindor's mind, after all.
The wait was quicker this time. Fifteen seconds passed and Potter looked deeply into his Grey eyes, as if trying to read them. His blank expression was present, and Draco had no fear of Potter seeing through that.
"I was wondering if you'd like to be friends." He finally blurted, his eyes wide, and breath coming in quick spurts. He held his hand out, but it wasn't steady, like someone who had pride and confidence would hold himself. It was trembling, and Draco had a sudden flashback to First Year, when he had initiated a friendship between Potter and himself on the train. His eyes narrowed slightly, as he remembered the rejection. Was he still interested in befriending the Gryffindor, the Chosen one… the freakin boy who lived?
He remembered his mother's insistent pestering to go back to Hogwarts so they could get the Malfoy name back where it belonged, and their status back into society.
Hoping he wouldn't regret his decision, he held his hand out, and shook Potter's firmly, squeezing it tighter, as if to say, 'this better be worth it, or more than one person will regret it.'
Potter's answering tough squeeze was enough to settle his worries. Even if their friendship would be friendly competition, it would still be fun, and worth a shot.
Draco let his hand drop, and stepped back from Potter before turning around and heading into the street of Diagon Alley. He didn't say anything else, and no call from Potter beckoned him back. This would definitely be interesting to witness, he thought cheerfully.
His ice cream had melted some, and Draco didn't deem it perfect enough to eat anymore. Without a second glance, he threw it into the closest rubbish bin, and walked quickly back to the Leaky Cauldron.
Draco went to the apparition spot, and held Orion carefully to his chest, making sure not to squeeze him too tightly, and then apparated, appearing a few feet away from the Malfoy Manor. He accelerated his pace, annoyed that Malfoy's couldn't sprint. He reached the door, and opened it. He heard his mother in the drawing room, but didn't stop to say hello.
As quickly as befit for a Malfoy, he walked up the stairs, and into his bedroom. He shut the door, and muttered a locking charm. He stripped his robes off, and then lied down carefully on his soft sheets. He would be bringing a spare set to Hogwarts that year, rather than have to use the stuff Hogwarts provided. It was Slytherin colors, so it wouldn't stick out.
When he had finally settled, he took out his journal, to put in the second entry. He had a lot to talk about after all.
August 31, 1998
So Potter wants to be friends, does he? This is the most interesting twist of the entire summer…other than purchasing Orion that is. He seems to be adapting well to his new surroundings, and I've given him a bowl of milk to lap at..should keep him full for the time being. I'm sure the kitchen in Hogwarts has Cat food, for when he gets older…but then again, Orion is a magical cat, I'm sure we can do something to accommodate his needs.
School is starting tomorrow. The train leaves exactly at eleven, and I am escorting myself to the platform. Mother is too busy with her own worries to think about taking me. Not that I need her, I am 18 years old after all. I don't need help.
Anyway, I will be going now, my stomach is growling, yet again..perhaps I'll eat a sandwich this time? Ah, I best call Citrin to prepare me something. Good night.
A/N This is the first chapter. I do intend on uploading more, but give me some feedback on what you'd like to see, and if I should continue.
A schedule for this story is still uncertain. Every Sunday seems like a good plan, but lately, I seem to find more time to write, so if my muse is up to it, I may do 2 uploads a week, again, depending on if people like this story.
Please leave me a review. I do appreciate it..so does my muse :D