Chapter Text
Draco Malfoy had never been one for early mornings. He'd much rather stay curled up in the tuft emerald green duvets, enjoying the mellow early autumn sunshine warming his pale skin. Yet he couldn't. It was, afterall, September 1st.
Draco would need to get up from his bed, from the comfort of his slithery chamber, his own hiding place, and instead reluctantly head to the King's Cross station all the way in London, just to get on the Hogwarts Express train waiting for him, and the rest of the Hogwarts students at precisely 11.00am sharp.
Realistically, it wasn't even that early anymore. It was already 9.52am, or whatever Draco could make out from the ticking clock sitting on the dark green wall across his bed.
His mother, Narcissa had already been to his room once around 8.00am. Her tone had been quite stern, telling him to get up or the breakfast would get cold.
Draco wasn't worried about breakfast, or even about the trip to the station. He could just use some Floo powder of apparition, and easily bypass all muggle ways of transport, like he's done every year so far.
"Draco!"
The door flew open again, and Draco groaned into his pillow, just wishing that his mother would go away already. How did he know it was his mother? For some reason, even someone as gentle as his mother, apparently had no idea what the word 'privacy' meant.
It wouldn't be the first time his mother had barged into his room in the morning without warning, or into his bathroom while he's in the middle of shaving away the unnecessary blonde hair off his jaw. Yes, even the ever well groomed Malfoy grows facial hair. He is- or rather has turned 16 over the summer.
Eventually after a couple of painful seconds, Draco finally lifted his head from the pillow. He unhooked his arms from beneath the fluff and pushed himself around onto his back- though he kept his eyes closed for a little while longer, maybe even just these couple seconds would help him battle the increasing tiredness that would slowly gather during the day.
"Draco, you were supposed to be up an hour ago! And now the breakfast has gone cold too. You know how much your father hates it when you do this. Draco. You know that he is here, get up." Narcissa's hesitant, but firm voice came from the door.
The mention of him made Draco shudder. For the past year now, the Dark Lord had been living in the Malfoy Manor. The whole idea of the Dark Lord living in the same house as Draco had creeped him out, and truthfully, it hadn't been the best idea from his father to have allowed it...but it wasn't like his father really had a choice.
He had learned about the whole ordeal during the end of his 4th year at school. The whole triwizard tournament had turned into one big mess. Apparently, the Triwizard cup had been made into a portkey, and when Potter and Diggory had touched it- it had taken them both to a graveyard where Potter had witnessed the death of Diggory, and the uprising of the Dark Lord. As much as he hated Potter, even he wouldn't have wished such cruelty over the boy. It's like re-living trauma.
That said, Draco still wasn't used to having the Dark Lord casually living in his home. He still wasn't used to seeing the many death eaters coming and going. He'd once bumped into Dolohov in the east wing after a meeting, and the man's creepy smile had made all the hairs on his neck stand up.
"Yeah, yeah i'm up.." Draco's tone was acerbic but not unkind as he answered to his mother, and his words were soon followed by a sleepy sigh as he finally sat up from beneath the duvets which fell off his upper body and pooled around his waist.
"Oh tch tch...look at this hair! How have you managed to grow it so long during the summer Draco dear?" Narcissa hurried over, taking Draco's blonde curls into her fragile hands, and carefully brushing them back.
"It isn't even that long mother."
It truly wasn’t that long. Sure, Draco had let it grow over the summer holiday, and sure it sometimes blocked his vision somewhat, but in all honesty, he liked how it looked nowdays. It was long enough to be tied in a small bun or ponytail.
Narcissa only tch'd some more before hurrying back towards the door. She stopped before stepping out though, and let out a weary sigh.
"Draco, love. Don't disappoint your father, and get down to the dining room soon. Do not disappoint him either. Do what you must."
She then finally continued on, and closed the heavy door behind herself, leaving Draco to wonder for a minute on what she was talking about.
It took him a moment to remember, and his own cold gaze fell on the dark tattoo resting upon his left forearm. He had never wanted it in the first place, but he had not exactly had the chance to say no. The death eater tattoo.
His opinion had not mattered the day the Dark Lord had summoned him to the silent living room. The room where his mother had stood trembling beside his father Lucius.
His father had looked at him expectingly, his gaze ever so distant- but demanding, almost in its cruel way- proud. The room where the Dark Lord welcomed him into his icey embrace.
He had not been asked. It had been forced onto him. It hadn't hurt, not at least physically, it had felt rather cold instead. The ink had spread through just below his skin. Forming the shape of a man, with a snake slithering out of his mouth, the man, according to his mother, was Salazar Slytherin, but he wasn't sure if that was true.
His given task was simple, or well that's the word the Dark Lord had used. Simple. Kill Professor Dumbledore. It didn't seem exactly so simple to Draco though.
He had wondered, and studied different methods, ways and ideas on how it would be the easiest. Poison, perhaps? But then again, Poison is easy to spot in drinks and foods.
Maybe he should try cursed objects, a beautiful necklace as a gift. Maybe that could work?
Even just the simple idea of using the forbidden killing curse had crossed his mind, but it would be rather risky, and he had never done it before. His father had told him that it has to come from somewhere deep inside of him, that he must mean it, but he isn’t so sure he does.
Finally after sitting on the bed for another good 5 minutes, he finally slid his legs over the full lenght of the bed and pushed the covers off of himself before standing up at his full height.
He had grown taller again over the summer.
At the start of the summer break, he had been a merely 177 centimetres tall. Now, with the summer ending, he had apparently reached up to 180 centimetres, or that is what the family doctor, Mr Vannes had told him on his last visit.
Even the great Malfoys do get sick indeed, except- Draco had not been sick. He just has a terrible hay fever that returns each year during the hotter season and weather.
His nose gets all stuffy during the summer too, it must be the way his nose was built, sleek and long, especially during the time when trees shake off all that stupid pollen out of their branches and leaves- is when his nose really starts to pour like a waterfall.
Draco headed into his private bathroom linked to his room after a moment in thought. He gave a tired glance at the half packed suitcase on the floor, he’d need to get that sorted out too.
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His steps echoed across the quiet hallway of the West wing in the Malfoy Manor as he made his way to the dining room. The sound bounced back to him with every step, even a quiet one. The manor felt like a palimpsest of grief, old magic bleeding through the newer walls that had been redone last summer.
He arrived by the huge embroided doors of the dining room, and stepped inside while fixing the black tie around his neck. He couldn't help feeling his own adam's apple bob uncertainly as he swallowed.
Draco had only recently started to see the beauty of black suits. He had seen one of the death eaters wearing one, Rafael was his name. A sleek, cunning man with dark brown hair up to his shoulders, and a forever lasting smug smile, even in the presence of the Dark Lord.
He marched over to the long dark oak table in the middle of the penetratingly somber room, and his eyes quickly landed on the toast and eggs laying- now probably cold- on the fancy white plate with gold embroidered on the edges in front of his seat, his mother collects them, Lady Junivers dishes. He does agree they are quite pretty and unique.
He didn’t need to look up to know that his father was sat across from his chair. He was reading the daily prophet. Draco could see the face of the famous Harry Potter staring back at him on the outer side of the newspaper with a big headline ‘The boy-who-lived told the truth?’
Draco rolled his eyes almost automatically. They were still on this?
Ever since the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, had seen the return of the Dark Lord, it has seemed like the whole wizard world was turned upside down. Suddenly everyone are on Potter's side.
Draco could remember vividly how all of the prohet newspapers only ever talked about Dumbledore and Potter. One a old fool, the other a liar. Quite literally everyone had turned on Potter the moment he set foot in Hogwarts on the fifth year. From what he had heard, not even his friends had believed in his story about the return of the Dark Lord for a while in the start of the year.
Well, Draco had known the truth. But he couldn't have exactly told Potter that.
Draco finally decided to sit down. The legs of the chair screeched on the floor when he pulled it back.
The old chair beneath him creaked in a weak manner as he settled down and begun to eat the cold breakfast provided to him. He didn't say anything about it, not wanting to hear his father's 'I told you to come down earlier, Draco.'
"Draco."
Draco swallowed the piece of bread in his mouth hastily, and looked up to meet his father's distant gaze.
"Father."
"This year is going to be important. Do you understand what I imply, Draco?"
Draco swallowed again, this time though, it was only his own saliva and air.
"Yes father, I understand what is asked of me. I won't let you down. I won't let him down."
Lucius gave a curt nod towards his son before fully lowering the newspaper and setting it on the oak table. He almost fidgeted with his own fingers, before realising that it isn't very 'Malfoy' like of him, and stopping immidately after.
Both of them remained quiet for an awkward while, a couple minutes or so. Their father-son bond hasn't exactly been good. Ever.
"Draco. I care for you, son. My one, and only son, my heir." Lucius said almost sorrowfully after a few moments of more hesitant contemplation.
Draco wasn't sure what to reply. But thankfully- or not so much so, he didn't get the chance to.
"Draco, my boy. One year back at Hogwarts. Oh, how fast time flies, don't you think?" A cold voice, an almost overbearingly sweet voice came from behind him.
All the hair on Draco's neck stood up, and he could see his father bowing his head down urgently. As cold and vicious as his father was, there still was a man much colder, and much more vicious than him
And that man ruled this house now.
Draco too, bowed his head towards the table as he had been taught to do; "Yes, my Lord." The reply was critical and instant, the three words that were branded into his brain from the time he's spend living under the same roof as the Dark Lord.
"Stand, my boy."
In the short interstice, Draco did as he was told. Dread coiled in his gut in a way that it always did when the Dark Lord adressed him. The chair scraped against the wooden floor but he didn't bear it any mind. He just stood as fast as he could, and turned on his shoe heel to face the pale, tall man standing in front of him.
"You may look at me, Draco." Voldemort said evenly, though the tone didn't really fit with his ashy voice.
Draco lifted his gaze to the Dark Lord. He could feet sweat begin to pool around his face. Yet he kept his face, and exterior as calm as he possibly could.
"When you received your death eater's mark, Draco, you vowed to never let me down, and to do everything asked of you... I gave you a task to complete this year, a single task for me, Draco. Do you still remember what it is?"
Draco nodded quickly. These things aren't something that are meant to be forgotten, especially not orders from the Dark Lord himself.
"Yes, my Lord, I do. I must kill dumbledore," He said sternly despite his voice shaking, "and I will succeed my Lord. I will kill him, I will make sure I see the old fool's fearful eyes as the life drains from his eyes. I won't let you down. My Lord."
A devilish smile bounced aimlessly on Voldemort's face. His sharp teeth glistening in the dim light of the room, and his blood thirsty eyes full of excitement.
"You seem to know what you are doing, Draco. I guess we shall see if you truly are more competent than your father. You mustn't let me down. I would not be very happy if you were to...fail, in this order of yours. I understand that it is your first time working as a death eater, but you shall not fear, boy. You will not fail, because if you do.." Voldemort's eyes flashed a dangerous red.
Draco didn't need to hear the rest. He had been warned of it before. He had seen it before. What happened to those whom didn't succeed.
Calindor, a younger death eater who had been send on a mission to retreive the wandkeeper Ollivander only a few weeks into summer break, had returned empty handed. Calindor had thought, that the Lord would be merciful. But instead, Nagini, the Dark Lord's python had gruesomely attacked the young lad. Bit the boy straight in the left eye during the next meeting. He had screamed, the blood- same colour as wine, had drippled on the oak table like a spraying waterfall. It was the first time Draco had ever seen something so horrific. It had scarred him. The look on the boy's face when he laid motionless on the floor only moments after had made Draco throw up later in his chamber.
"My Lord. I won't let you down." He finished in a monotone voice. His insides though- were twisting, and he wasn't sure if it was because of the Dark Lord, or the fact that Nagini, the said snake, had slithered into the room from the partially open door behind her master.
Her body twisted aimlessly on the wooden floor as she neared. She passed Draco from just an inch away, and it made his skin prickle beneath the fabric of his suit.
"It is getting late now, Draco. You must go now, We wouldn't want to be late to the train to Hogwarts now, would we?" Voldemort cocked his head slowly to the right, his eyes following Draco's movements like a hawk.
"Yes. Indeed. My Lord." He bowed his head once more before passing by the Dark Lord. His stomach mulled out of hunger and fear, but he did not have the time, nor the will to go back to grab the rest of his uneaten breakfast.
"Oh, and Draco."
Draco stopped and turned his head back around, what now?...
"Say 'hello' to Harry from me." His voice had completely changed. It made the whole room, if not the whole house feel polar and melancholy. Yet still. The Dark Lord smiled at him so innocently. You could call it, a playful smile, grin, whatever.
"...My Lord?" Draco asked quietly in confusion, only to feel like a moron a second later as the Dark Lord laughed at the uncertainty etched across his face.
"I was merely toying with you, Draco. But if you do see him. Say 'hello'. It is important to have good manners. Though I think that your father has taught you all of that, isn't that right Lucius?"
Draco's gaze fell upon his father who nodded, still sitting stiffly with his head bowed towards the desk; "Yes, my Lord."
"Good. Hop along young Draco. You have 20 minutes before the train leaves." Voldemort added rather excitedly in the end.
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Draco stepped confidently out of the brick fireplace, and quickly brushed off any excess dust that might have gotten onto his suit.
He did a brief look around the room. It was a dimly lit maintenance room located nearby the main staircase of the King's cross station in London. He had visited the room often, as it is used as the room for the arriving witches and wizards who use floo powder to get to the station every year to access the Hogwarts school of magic.
People like himself were part of this group. He liked to consider himself an 'upper being' for being able to use floo power instead of other methods. To him, floo powder is an honourable magically implemented design, and not some...'cars' that the muggles use.
The room only stays there each year for an hour, once when the students arrive for the start of the year, and once when students are leaving the school for summer break after the school year is done, before the room then disappears like it never existed in the first place.
It has been enchanted with all sorts of spells to keep it as hidden from the muggles as possible. It would be disastrous to have a muggle find such a sacred place such as this room.
Draco eventually headed for the door while pulling his luggage after himself, which included- a big brown suitcase, his broom case consisting of a brand new nimbus 2002 (yes a brand new version after the nimbus 2001 had come out), and his pet eurasian eagle-owl who was sitting in a silver cage embroided with the Slytherin snake symbol. The owl was fierce with yellow flame like eyes. Draco had named it Ulysses.
So yes indeed, he had packed before he had headed for breakfast that very morning, but only because his mother had demanded he do so, or she would have packed it for him, and Draco does not want his mother seeing all the different perfumes and colognes he's taking along to school,so he had agreed to do it himself. She says that Draco's over use of such smells is causing her headache, but Draco deeply disagrees. Why can't a man smell good?
He walked alone through the busy hussle of muggles boarding their own trains. He tried to keep his face neutral, but he couldn't help a couple curious glances towards a pair of muggle children running around playing tag.
'How would it be like to live as an muggle?'
He had started going alone to the station ever since his third year. So he was used to it by now. His mother always promises to write to him while he is at school, and besides, he comes home for the holidays, so it isn't a big deal. Not to mention, she always sends the best treats. Draco's favourite are the toffees that melt in your mouth, literally.
Finally, the two familiar numbers loomed ahead of him. The platforms 9 and 10.
He had done it so many times before that it wasn't even a problem anymore. More like a relfex.
Draco looked around briefly before speeding up his steps to long strides, and finally bursting through the brick wall between the two platforms unnoticed. The platform for the Hogwarts Express, 9 3/4.
The platform was already busy, too busy for Draco's liking. Parents saying goodbye to their children. Friends meeting up to exchange words over what they all had been up to over the summer, little kids not quite old enough- running around the platform like some maniacs. He couldn't help but scoff.
Draco despises children. Loud, bratty, annoying.
He pushed through some families hugging and saying their goodbyes, not caring that he might have interrupted a few farewells.
He left his brown luggage back on the designated drop off area, aswell as his broom case and Ulysses, who gave a quiet hoot of disapproval. It isn't widely known, but it is actually the house elves whom pack the heavy lugagge into the train...how do they do it? That's what Draco wonders.
When he finally got on only a few minutes before departure, he looked both ways in the long hallway before eventually deciding to head to the back of the train where most of the Slytherins always sat. He'd most likely find Pansy Parkinson, Goyle Gregory and Blaise Zabini in there, his current- or rather only friends in his year group...you could perhaps count in other Slytherins such as Theodore or Marcus Flint but he only associates with them every now and then.
It took him some time to reach the furthest train carriage since the train is so long. The train felt more crowded than usual and Draco couldn't place his finger on exactly why it felt that way.
"Draco!"
He heard his name being called from straight ahead. He lifted his gaze and scanned the seats before he saw the face of Pansy Parkinson jumping up and down in one of the four-seater sets along side Goyle, and Blaise, just like he had guessed.
With an almsot annoyed sigh, he walked over and heaved his shoulder bag onto the rack above them before settling down into the seat next to Pansy despite being reluctant.
"Oh Draco. Draco I've missed you so! All summer! It was soo boring, I wish i could have spend it with you instead!" Pansy immediately jumped on a long rant about how much she had missed 'her' Draco.
It all made Draco roll his eyes. He wanted to tell her to shut up but rather kept his own mouth shut instead. He couldn't risk loosing more friends despite of how annoying they could be at times. Besides, Pansy isn't all that bad. She just thinks for some reason that Draco is some future husband of hers or something.
It must have begun when they first met. It wasn't even at school but at his own home at the Malfoy Manor where Pansy's family had visited when they were as young as 8 years old. According to his father, Pansy would be a perfect pureblood match for him, but he isn't interested in marrying, not soon at least.
"Draco. I wrote to you during the summer...did you read my letters?" Pansy cooed in a baby like manner, pursing her lips and trailing a finger down Draco's right arm.
Draco stopped. He felt his own breath hitch slightly in disgust and he felt back from shivering uncomfortable. Yes, he had read the letters, and now the words
'I'm yours forever my Draco. I cannot wait till the day you put a ring on my finger, and carry me into your dark and dangerous room, you can do anything to me!'
He wanted to puke at the words. They had made him recoil badly when he first read them. He probably would have puked right there and then too, but he rather not make a fool of himself. Instead- he just shuddered and looked out of the window to try and distract himself.
He was glad he burned that letter.
"Pansy that's enough already." Blaise huffed under his breath, offering Draco a somewhat apologetic look after glaring at Pansy momentarily.; "Draco, what have you been up to during the summer?"
Draco did much prefer Blaise over the other two. At least he knew how to make conversation and take things seriously. A true Slytherin indeed.
"Hm? Me?" Draco sighed into the palm of his hand before shifting upwards on his seat; "Not much really. I haven't really had the chance to do...anything...around the house anymore. Mother hired some ridiculous piano teacher to teach me how to play the piano. He really was horrible, I couldn't stand his nonesense talking and stupid accent. I think he was irish."
Goyle sneered at him with that wonky smile of his ; "A piano teacher? Really? That sounds laughable. You, the great Malfoy, a pianist?!"
Draco couldn't help but grin this time. He tilted his head back against the palm of his hand again just as the train finally begun to move ahead.
"His name was some...Gotmick...tch, more like dog shit." Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes.
Pansy laughed a little too loud at Draco's attempt of a rhyming joke, but oh well. The attention feels great. Draco truly had missed it. He thrives on attention, that is for sure.
After a moment of silence between them all, Goyle finally leaned forward an inch on his chair and lowered his voice to a hushed whisper.
"Is...you know who, still at the Malfoy Manor, Draco?"
Pansy and Blaise exchanged quick looks before looking over at Malfoy with a curious scrutiny, Pansy more curious than ever apparently.
"Yeah. He is. But we can't talk about it here. I'll show you guys the mark once we get to the Slytherin dorms." Draco replied under his breath while viciously looking around the carriage; ready to personally silence anyone who might have heard, but nobody seemed to have, so he relaxed slightly.
"He gave you the mark? Draco- did it hurt?" Pansy asked. Her round, dark brown eyes filling with tears that Draco couldn't quite understand what they were for. Ridiculous girl this Pansy.
"No. It didn't hurt. It was more a-" His words were caught off as he noticed something. Movement in the racks above them, he had caught it from the side of his eye. His bag moved on its own, like as if a ghost had pushed it; "cold...feeling." He finished, his voice now monotone and bitter
"Oh Draco! It must have been so scary and horrible for you!" Pansy shrieked out loud with her hands on her cheeks, though Goyle quickly shushed her quiet, which made the black haired girl pout her lips in an annoyed manner.
Draco though, wasn't focused on the conversation around him any longer. He was more curious as to why his bag had moved on its own. It didn't make sense, not in the slightest. His brows knitted together more tightly and he tilted his head back against the chair's headrest to think clearer. It wasn't a something. It was a someone.
He knew exactly, who it was.
His gaze darkened upon the realisation. Potter. Must be. There was nobody else- or at least anyone he knew- that had a invisibility cloak.
His nights spent as the prefect boy of Slytherin had not gone to waste after all. He had seen Potter use it before. Sneaking into bathrooms, the library, even classrooms. Sneaky little bastard. But this time, he had made a grave mistake thinking he would remain unspotted.
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Draco didn't move from his spot for almost 7 hours out of the 9 hour train ride. He feared that if he were to move, Potter would slip away and he'd not get the chance to confront him. He wanted to confront Potter. He needed to, just for the sake of it.
He only left his chair to use the bathroom once- to change into his Slytherin school robes, and to practise what he would say to Potter once confronted. Or would he say anything at all? Would he instead curse or hex the boy? He wasn't sure yet.
The ride was nearly up now, only around 15 minutes left before their arrival. The sky had gone dark outside as the train's quiet rumble continued on outside, and the mountains in the distance looked like giants sleeping. The students inside the train too had finally grown more quiet and exhausted from the long train ride.
Draco preferred it that way.
With so little time left on the ride, Draco couldn't help but feel his own- more natural personality start taking over. Away from the deep grasps of his father, and the Dark Lord, his own wits and slyness began to crawl back to him. He glanced above at the racks again, a slow smirk settling on his face as he turned his gaze to Blaise who was reading across from him. A book about dark arts.
"I wonder how Potter is doing? From what I know, he apparently has a fat crush on the youngest weasel-by. What was her name? Ginny? What a poor choice really. From her- I mean. Settling for someone like Potter? I almost feel bad for her." Draco sneered suddenly, watching the reactions on his friends.
Goyle laughed in a rough tone, the same rough laugh he used to laugh when Crabbe was still around. His laughter easily overtook most of the carriage's chatter; "I always wondered if the Weasleys are as red down their pants as they are on the head!" Goyle couldn't help but add mockingly.
Blaise scoffed dramatically and smacked Goyle across the chest with his book; "Yack! Disgusting! Don't make me think of something like that! I prefer not to have to think about Weasley pubes."
Pansy giggled helplessly on her chair. She leaped forward suddenly, legs wiggling in the air, her smile wider than probably ever before; "We should ask Granger! I bet for sure she's already seen Weasley's dick! They hang out- like all the time. I truly wouldn't be suprised if she had sucked it already!"
Draco laughed with the others. He felt good. Being able to mock Potter and his friends with his own. It was him, it was Slytherin. This was what he loved doing.
He glanced up into the racks again, and sure enough, his bag was moving once more. Poor Potter. Probably seething with anger and hatred towards them all.
Good.
"I can't believe we're having this conversation!" Blaise snickered and leaned back further into the comfort of his chair; "It's so disgusting, shut up, all of you."
Draco just smiled smugly and crossed his legs expectingly.
"I bet the Weasel-by is only after Potter because of his fame anyway. All that attention and still no personality- how tragic." Draco said snobbishly and lifted his nose up in his own 'I am better than you' way.
Pansy was shrieking in laughter now. She couldn't sit still in her chair and the other younger students were starting to stare uncomfotably. though it was probably mostly because of Draco's cruel comments than anything.
"Seriously! In my opinion Potter doesn't even solve any problems! He just goes and throws himself at them, and hopes that he gets applauded afterwards! What a loser!" Blaise finally voiced his opinion out loud despite first coming off as the more of a 'Mr rules' guy.
The others nodded their heads along. Pansy was still giggling to herself.
The train finally slowed down and the students begun to get up, grabbing their things from the racks above as fast as possible to get out of the carriage. But Draco. He took his time, even joking some more.
"The Dark Lord himself marked Potter like some livestock animal! And to be honest-" He scoffed as he reached for the bag on the rack, "somehow that was the best outcome. He should just surrender himself to the Dark Lord already. He'd be doing us rest a favour."
"Agreed. He's nothing but a walking burden on everyone at school anyway!" Goyle cackled.
"C'mon Draco. Let's get out of here boo!" Pansy cooed over Draco's shoulder before rushing ahead of him towards the door of the carriage, followed closely behind by Goyle and Blaise.
Draco cocked his head back and listened. He was certain Potter could not have left yet. He swiftly swung his brown school bag over his shoulder and began to make his way to the carriage door, but instead of exiting...he grabbed the door handle and pushed the door shut fully, locking it with a 'click', and pulling down the drapes on the small window of the door. Gotta make sure nothing is over seen by curious students.
"Tch." He snorted, drawing his wand slowly out of his pocket.
"Didn't mommy tell you not to eavesdrop Potter!"
Draco spun around. He was aiming to use the spell Petrificus Totalus to completely freeze Potter's body in the racks above, he would have been easier to handle when he'd be frozen. But seemingly, he hadn't been fast enough afterall, as in the time that the others had left, and he had spend locking the door, Potter had gotten down from the racks and was now standing a foot away.
The punch landed straight into Draco's jaw.
Draco staggered back into the door, making the window frame rattle. He lifted a hand to his jaw and rubbed the sore spot.
"Ah-" Draco gasped slightly, It had been so sudden, he had definitely not expected it.
"I have to give you credit Potter. At least you punch better than you cast spells. Maybe you should have just remained a muggle." He sneered into Potter's face. He saw the anger bubbling beneath the other boy's skin and it made his own skin prickle in excitement of getting to torment him.
Harry finally moved again. He raised a fist and threw it forward with force.
This time Draco was fast enough to dodge it.
Draco used the door as a slide and slid down against it- using his back to lower himself down just enough to miss the punch that Potter tried to launch his way.
In defence, he leaped forward and grabbed Potter by his collar. He concentrated all his energy into his arms before throwing the Gryffindor across the small walkway into one of the four-seaters on the left.
Harry smacked into the chairs with a loud thud and a groan as his lower back his the edge of one of the empty seats. An empty water glass on the desk fell over, rolling off the edge before crashing into the floor next to Draco's feet into millions of little pieces.
"How dare you speak about my friends like that!" Harry yelled as he forced himself back up despite the discomfort in his lower back to face Malfoy.
Draco smirked smugly, his whole face twisting into an amused snarl so wide that his gums showed,
"Ah so you admit! You were eavesdropping on me! Perhaps daddy wasn't around to teach you not to do that either? Oh wait! Neither of your parents were! Ha!" Draco declared loudly. It was cruel. He finished off his sentence by kicking the startled Gryffinor backwards, making him trip over himself.
Without giving Potter a chance to recover, he lunged and neatly shoved Potter against the train window so hard he could swear the whole carriage tilted.
He kneed Potter in the stomach while gripping his collar hard to try to keep the boy in place. His size and height advantage did really help out in the struggle, but damn Potter was strong. He had probably gained muscles over the summer after finally being fed properly by those...Weasleys.
"Stupefy!" Harry roared. He had managed to pull his wand out of his back pocket as Malfoy struggled to keep him in place. The spell however did not hit, the struggle and commotion was making it hard to aim.
"Well Potter! Tell me! Is it as red down there as it is on her head? If you don't tell me, I might just need to go check it out myself! I'm sure that Weasel-by would be delighted to have someone with actual personality rather than just a stupid hero complex!" Malfoy laughed. For some reason, all this fighting, all the energy it was bringing him, was really starting to feel nice. He had missed this. The adrenaline he felt when clashing together with Potter.
Malfoy's tone was mocking and cruel, it infuriated Harry to an extreme.
"Fucking death eater! I know what you are Malfoy! Ginny would never date a pathetic excuse of a human being like you!" Harry bellowed. The blood was rushing in his ears. He had never felt this furious before. Not even when he was being gaslit by the Ministry!
The mention of Draco being a death eater caught him off guard for only a few seconds before he shook it off. He had no time to ask how Potter knew.
Harry managed to free himself from Malfoy's grip by kicking him in the shin with the front of his shoe.
Draco reeled back, the impact of Potter's shoe against his shin stealing his balance momentarily, sending painful sparks up his whole leg. Harry used Malfoy's temporary set-back for his advantage, and he lunged at Malfoy with his whole body, easily knocking out both Malfoy's breath, and his evenness on his feet.
The two of them crashed into the middle of the walkway of the carriage, and Harry didn't waste anymore time on waiting. He lifted his right arm in the air and landed a nasty punch straight into Malfoy's stupid smug face.
Blood splattered across the floor like raindrops next to them, taking no time and soaking into the carpeted floor. Malfoy cried out loudly in pain, it wasn't a sad cry, it was a frantic and livid cry. It wasn't the pain that hurt, it was the humiliation that made his blood boil.
Before Harry managed to land another punch- which he was in the progress of doing, Draco swung back, and grabbed a hold of Potter's wrist before twisting it around quickly. His sharp, neatly kept fingernails dug into the skin around the wrist, leaving behind soft welts of red.
Pain lanced through Harry's whole arm as Malfoy's twisted his wrist unnaturally. It has been so sudden that the white-hot spike of pain that had ran through him had stolen his breath away.
Both their wands had fallen out of their grips during the struggle, but Draco could see his own laying beneath one of the chairs not too far away to his right. It was positioned just perfectly to be out of reach, almost in a way where it was teasing Draco to lean closer to grab it.
"Fight me! Fight me you coward!" Harry spat heatedly. He was trying to free his wrist despite it being extremely painful, while reaching for his own wand on the floor next to Malfoy's right leg, where it had landed when they had crashed onto the floor.
Draco twisted his body towards the chairs. His limbs working to an extreme as he reached beneath the seat to finally clasp his fingers around the cold metallic part of the wand.
At the same time, Harry managed to grab his own wand.
Both wands went up, bright flashes blinding them both briefly.
"Locomotor Mortis!"
"Expelliarmus!"
Draco's wand flew out of his hand despite him gripping it fiercly. It did a couple smalls flips in the air, before falling shortly after to the carpet covered floor with a dull clack- only a second after he had cast his own spell on Potter.
The spell Draco had used hit Potter in the face, and the blue sparkles flashed brightly at contact with the skin. Considering that the spell Malfoy had cast was a leg lock spell worsened the fact that it had hit Potter straight in the face. The spell isn't supposed to be aimed at the face.
"Ack- fuck!" Harry yelped in pain. He half stumbled, half fell back against the chairs while trying to wipe non existent powder or such- off his face.
His glasses were gone too, neither of them had seen where they had flown to, everything had happened so fast. Harry had only felt the slight whoosh of air as his glasses were blown off completely. He was sure he had heard them crack.
Harry could feel his nose was broken. It wouldn't be the first time. Dudley and his bully friends had broken his nose once or twice when he was younger.
He could remember the first time it had happened, aunt Petunia had screamed when he had stepped into the room, nose all bloody. But she had not screamed because of the fact that Harry had a broken nouse, but beacuse Harry was apparently dripping blood all over the fancy new carpet.
They both panted on the floor like dogs who had just fought over scraps of food, quite accurate considering that they had just fought, except it was over mutual hatred towards each other rather than food scraps.
Covered in bruises, cuts and blood, Draco sat up. He lifted his sleeve below his nose and wiped underneath it. He pulled his arm back to look, and sure enough, it was covered in blood. Not only was his face bloody, so was the front of his suit, not to mention how uneven and messy his hair had turned.
"Thanks Potter." Malfoy scoffed, clear anger and frustration in his tone, especially noticeable with the way he pronounced the other boy's last name- (Pottah). "You've gotten my robes all bloody with your dirty half-blood! You be sure my father will be hearing about this!"
"Oh please, don't start blaming me for getting your own rags dirty!" Harry shot back.
Draco's nostrils flared and he pointed an accusive finger towards Potter; "You were the one stalking me Potter- I was merely doing what is right. Getting rid of unworthy wizards and witches. You infact do not belong here, Potter. This train should have left with you on it all the way back to King's cross."
"Unworthy what now?!" Harry snapped his head up. He was holding his own nose in the palm of his hand to try to ease the pain and blood.
"You heard me! Unworthy wizards and witches. Just you wait when I get my hands on Granger!" Malfoy hissed. He was threatning the life of Potter's friend, Hermione Granger, a muggle born witch. "Dirty mudblood she is!"
"Shut your damn mouth Malfoy!" Harry- despite having a broken nose, and possibly a twisted wrist, was more than ready to go again. Nobody would insult his friends, especially not his best friends.
Draco was about to respond once more with a witty, harsh remark, but did not get the chance to do so, when suddenly the locked door to the carriage flew open with a huge blast. Some smoke lingered in the aftermath.
Both Harry and Draco looked up from each other to the door which now stood wide open. Harry tried to see who it was- but unfortunately he could not, as his glasses were not on his face, and he could barely even make out where Malfoy was.
There was a cold, calculated step into the Carriage, and even Harry without his glasses, could never go wrong with the fully black overalls.
"You both will be going straight to the main hall to clean yourselves up before attending the sorting ceremony, or at least the rest of it, before going straight into your common rooms, and staying there for the rest of the night."
The voice was monotone, intense but still in a way so creepy and distant that it made both of them shiver, even Draco who just happened to be from Slytherin.
"Is that clear, Mr Malfoy, Mr Potter?" Snape asked with his voice turning almost threatning.
"Yes Professor." They both said in unison.
"Up. And out. Now." Snape motioned towards the door.
As soon as he had said it, he flicked his wand sharply and Harry smacked a hand to his nose with a pained groan as his nose snapped back into place.
In a matter of minutes, he and Malfoy scrambled out of the train, Snape only a few steps behind.