Different Type Of Malfoy [B1]

"It's father, isn't it?"

Slowly, Draco woke up but didn't open his eyes. He felt content as he felt something brush through his hair and his head slowly rise and fall on a warm pillow. He sighed and nuzzled closer to the warmth. What is combing through my hair and pillows do not move... he startled himself into realisation and opened his eyes immediately. "Good morning." Hummed the voice and Draco found himself looking into wonderfully green eyes.
"I'm so sorry, it won't happen again!" Shrieked Draco as he sat up with his back against the headboard.
"It's ok, it was nice- and it was an accident." They flushed looking away from each other.
"Where's Dean?"
"Oh, he left earlier. We didn't want to wake you. Breakfast will be over in an hour, want to go down?" Harry suggested as he stood up and opened his wardrobe.

Less than fifteen minutes later, the boys were almost running into the Great Hall and took seats at the table. Next to Harry was Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom. Oposite to them, was Draco, then Dean and finally Seamus. Everyone was silent as they stared at the envelope that moved from in front of Dean to Draco. "It's father, isn't it?" He asked Dean who nodded, because he recognise the Owl, and Zabini gave it to him after it was 'accidentally' dropped at the Slytherin table before Draco woke up. "It's called a howler..." was all he told Harry before he carefully opened the seal.

"DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY!" The cold, eerie voice of Mr. Malfoy sprung from the letter, "HOW DARE YOU DISGRACE THE FAMILY NAME IN SUCH A WAY! YOU ARE A WRETCHED BOY WHO DOESN'T DESERVE A TITLE.
"Lucius please, he's just a boy! He's our son!
"QUIET WOMAN!" A smack echoed from the letter making people jump but Draco didn't, "NOT ONLY THAT, BUT YOU ARE FRIENDS WITH MUDBLOODS! YOU HAVE BEEN FRIENDS WITH A MUDBLOOD FOR SEVERAL YEARS! YOUR MOTHER FOUND A CONSIDERABLE AMOUNT OF LETTERS TO AND FROM ONE DEAN THOMAS. A MUDBLOOD!" Soft whimpers came from the letter- female voice, "DO NOT COME BACK TO THIS HOUSE! I AM HAVING YOUR ESSENTIAL BELONGINGS MOVED TO HOGWARTS! BE THANKFUL YOU'RE RECEIVING ANYTHING!" The letter exploded into pieces that slowly disintegrated.

Normally, when a howler is sent, everyone laughs after, but nobody made a sound even close to a giggle. Shaking his head slightly, Draco showed a face of no emotion as he started to put food on his plate. "Pass me the jug of water, Finnigan?" His voice level, monotone. Shocked out of his daze, Seamus handed him the jar and the moment Draco's skin grazed the glass the hall sprang into action. "Drake, I-" Dean began but was abruptly cut off.
"So, what lessons do we have today?" Asked Draco as he scanned his eyes over the timetable, but didn't show any remote interest.
"Potions, Transfiguration, lunch, then double charms." Harry supplied. Rest of the meal, the boys danced around everything and were careful not to mention anything related to the Howler.

"I'm going to class early, I will see you then." Draco brushed off his robes and stiffly walked out the Great Hall: three people following him. The three met up just outside the Great Hall where they looked for Draco. "Blaise Zabini, pleasure to meet you: Thomas and Potter, correct?" He raised an eyebrow. The two nodded and they found their way to Potions, trailing after Draco to make sure he was alright. The three lingered outside the door when they heard two voices: Draco and Professor Snape.

"Draco, I can't take you to Spinner's End; there isn't accommodation for a child, and your father visits frequently. I wish I could help you, child, but the best I can do is persuade Dumbledore to allow you to stay here." Sighed the Professor.
"Please Uncle Sev, I have nowhere else to go! Mother spoke about her cousins and sister once, but I don't know any of them!" Pleaded the boy, and Harry just wanted to hug him and tell him it will be alright.
"I am so sorry, Draco, I am afraid there is nothing I can do for you." They heard ruffle of clothing and Dean peaked through the door to see the two hugging for a moment. Snape cleared his throat, "Now wait outside, I do not need the first years to think I'm soft." He said in a drawl.
"Yes Uncle Sev." Teased Draco and he opened the door. If it wasn't for Blaise pulling Dean's arm, he would have fallen straight through the door.

"What are you doing here thus early?" Draco's tone was bitter as he shot deathly glares individually. Never had Draco used a tone or glare at Dean, and Harry had just met him so this was a new side to the bubbly and calm Draco. On the other hand there was Blaise, who had delt with many bitter Draco's.
"Draco mate, we were just worried about you." Blaise insisted and had the same blank expression as Draco.
"That was a private conversation. You had no right!" He growled and pushed through Harry and Blaise.
"Draco!" Harry called but Draco either didn't hear or decided to ignore it.

Shockingly, Blaisr didn't look phased. "Your best friend is in a mood with you, why do you look so calm?" Panicked Dean who had never fallen out with Draco before.
"He gets like this: he's short tempered, quick to irritate and he hates being ignored." Dean had a sombre expression as the three waited outside the classroom until the bell went.

Kids piled into the class but there was no teacher at the moment. The Slytherins all sat at the front, while the Gryffindors at the back. The front three desks- all singles- had Goyle, Parkinson then Crabbe. Behind them were the other Slytherins: Blaise, Nott, Bulstrode and Greengrass. Hermione sat with Brown and Patil while the boys clumped in the other corner.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang and all the heads turned to the door: the door behined the Professor's desk. A man with dark, greasy- in Harry's opion- hair that reached his shoulders sauntered into the room. His equally dark robes swished in a room with no wind as he spoke his way to the front, eyes scanning the class.

"And where is Mr. Malfoy?" He drawled the question to the Gryffindor boys- looking in Harry and Dean's direction but maybe Harry was imagining it.
"Sorry I'm late sir." Heads turn to the door and can't see his face as Draco has his head bowed. The opening and closing of the door was so quiet nobody heard it.
"Mmm, ten points from Gryffindor. I trust you can find your own seat, or are you as encompetant as your late arrival suggests?" Draco knows he's only saying this because of his reputation, but the other Gryffindors don't. Dean, Seamus and Harry looked sharply to Snape but kept their mouths shut as Draco took a seat in the place by Harry.

"There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to enjoy the subtle science and exact art that is potion making. However, for those select few {looks at Draco, who smiles}, who possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper to death." Draco raised his eyebrows at this, because he hadn't read of a potion like that! On the other hand, the same couldn't be said for Harry, because he had quil to parchment- writing every word the Professor said down. "Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confidant enough to not...pay...attention." Really not wanting to talk or even have physical contact [mind out of the gutter, they are 11] Draco nudges Harry anyway and almost knocks the quil out of his hand.

"Mr. Potter. Our...new...celebrity. Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Immediately, Hermione's hand shot in the air as possibly high as it could go.
"I don't know sir." Harry looked at his hands, thinking it would be the end of his humiliation.
"And what is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfbane?" The teacher pressed on.
"I don't know sir." He said again but with bitter passion.
Disgustingly, Snape's lips curled into a triumphant smirk, "Pity. Clearly, fame isn't everything, is it, Mr. Potter?"
"Well Hermione seems to know the answers, why don't you ask her?" Sniggering was heard over the classroom, even from some Slytherins.

"Quiet." He commanded, "Ten points fron Gryffindor Mr. Potter, and put your hand down girl! Can anybody, tell me the answers?"
Cautiously, Draco raised his hand, "Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite." He said and got confident by the minute.

"Well? Why are you not writing this down?" He commanded again, and all the sound in the class was quil rubbing on parchment- all with the exception to Draco who knew the answers.
This is going to be a long year Harry thought as he looked at the solemn face of Draco. How he obviously had tear marks but carried on as if it was nothing.