Draco's Mudblood - Draco Malfoy Fan Fiction - *Year One*

Focus

Things could not have been going worse for Blaise Zambini.

He had vowed at the start of the year that anyone and everyone in his path was useless. To him, there was no point in making friends. He was better off alone, and all the other first years annoyed him anyways.

Theodore Nott and Isobel Anderson were challenging this vow. Being alone was something he was used to, but it seemed much more difficult than he'd anticipated. Theodore was still a large question mark in Blaise's eyes, but Isobel was nice company from time to time. She was quiet and kept to herself, but she was a good teacher when it came to subjects Blaise struggled with understanding. No matter how annoying he found her worry over Theodore, he found Isobel less trouble than the others and chose to stick around her when he could bear it.

He hated how weak that made him feel.

Second on his list of tortures was the morning mail. Everyone got letters from loved ones, parents and siblings and even cousins three-times-removed. Every morning was like being bombarded with unnecessary conversation. Did people really think he cared if their aunt sent them homemade pumpkin pasties? Not to mention his own lack of mail. Everyone assumed his mother had disowned him. They pitied him, as though he was a rejected puppy. Blaise and his mother were just never that close, so after the first piece of mail he received from her, congratulating him on getting into Slytherin, there was nothing more for them to discuss. It wasn't sad, really, just practical. (Why waste the parchment and ink on meaningless correspondence?)

And last, but certainly not least, was Draco Malfoy.

Blaise wasn't much of a fan of Malfoy growing up. They were forced by their parents to hang out a number of times and Blaise never enjoyed a single second of it. Malfoy was a spoiled, dramatic, self-consumed child. Even now, those were traits he failed to grow out of.

"I don't get it! They should have been expelled!" Even in a quiet room, Draco Malfoy shouted.

"Are you really still on that?" Tracey Davis asked. She was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table in front of the fireplace. Daphne Greengrass sat just above her in one of the long, deep green velvet sofas with a book in her lap. Beside her was Pansy Parkinson, Millincent Bulstrode, and Vincent Crabbe, all with books and parchment out on the table but no interest in actually opening them. Malfoy huffed from his throne-like chair between the two sofas, ignored Davis, and went on complaining.

Blaise mentally cursed out the group of first years. He'd been looking for a spot to sit in silence and go over some of his homework, but the dorms were so cold from the lake just above that the only place he could find such peace and comfort was out in the common room. During classes, and with the other students nowhere in sight, Blaise figured he'd struck gold.

He'd figured wrong.

Now he sat just on the edge of the group, thoroughly annoyed his classmates had found the empty common room shortly after he had.

Isobel's taller, very rigid frame appeared beside Blaise. "One of the classrooms was flooded, so they're using the library instead."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "I don't remember asking why you were here."

"And I don't remember why I befriended you, but here we are."

Davis interrupted their back-and-forth by jumping upright, nearly flipping the table over with her. "A classroom flooded? With what?"

Isobel sat herself beside Blaise, Theodore sitting beside her on the sofa in silence. "Why do I get the feeling you had something to do with it?"

Davis smiled mischievously but offered no answer.

Isobel sighed. "It was filled with some kind of pink goo."

Davis' smile widened as she shrugged. "How curious. Wonder who could have had anything to do with that?"

To Blaise's disappointment, the conversation resumed where they'd left off and veered into progressively stupider topics. They threw out names Blaise didn't know, nor care to know, and traded obscure rumours about who was snogging who and what hexed were used in numerous fights on the grounds.

"Did you guys hear about the party on Saturday?"

Parkinson, who'd been caring to her nails the entire conversation while pretending to be indifferent to the 'drama', perked up. "What party?"

Malfoy sneered at her, but Goyle answered before he could utter a word. "Lucian Bole's birthday is on Saturday, so the House is throwing him a surprise party Saturday night." He smiled at her. "Everyone's invited."

Bulstrode rolled her eyes. "Who cares? It's just a birthday." Parkinson recoiled at this, as though personally offended. "The party is cool, I mean," she said hastily. "I just don't get the big deal with getting older. Who cares?"

Greengrass, silent the whole conversation, spoke up. "I think it's nice."

Blaise wasn't expecting anyone to push further against Bullstrode (she was massive, afterall), but Isobel took him by surprise. "It is! We should do something similar."

"Yeah!" Davis exclaimed. Blaise put his foot on the table to keep it from rocketing across the room as she jumped. "When each of us turns 12, we should all have a party to celebrate."

Malfoy, of course, picked up with his extravagant wishes for his own birthday party. Everyone wanted something big, with balloons and streamers and food from the Kitchens, presents and music, blah blah blah...

"What if you're already 12?"

Isobel and Blaise looked over to Theodore. He spoke softly, so the other conversation went on as it was.

"Did your birthday pass already?" Isobel asked.

Theodore shrugged. "Yeah, a little while ago... It's not a big deal though!" He said seeing Isobel's look of shock. "We weren't really friends yet. I'm not bothered by it, really."

Utterly bored with the conversation, Blaise went back to his homework. He wasn't sure why the talk of birthdays bothered him so much, but he rather agreed with Bulstrode; who cared anyways?