Draco Malfoy and the Boy Who Lived

Draco Malfoy and The Boy who Knew Nothing About Anything

Draco Malfoy walked through the brick archway in the back room of the Leaky Cauldron with his mother and father, eyes trained towards the sky as to not miss the dozens of owls flying past. He felt his mother tap his shoulder gently and turned his attention to his list of books and supplies.

"Draco, would you like your us to come with you? Or would you like to find some of your materials yourself?"

"I think I can handle Diagon Ally myself this year, mother. You and father both know I am well acquainted with the streets and their shops. I will need some money before I go, however."

Draco slipped the galleons his mother handed him into his robe pocket before slowly sauntering away with the grace and poise he had always tried to convey. He heard his mother call after him softly,

"We won't be far away if you need us, dragon."

Where to go first? Might as well start wandering the streets until I find something interesting.

Draco first passed a small shop with a crowd of children surrounding the glass. He craned his head lightly to see the new Nimbus 2000 sitting proudly on display in the case. He rolled his eyes before continuing on his way. The group of children obviously never saw a real racing broom. His father had promised him a top of the line racing broom for his second year. Pity first years are not allowed to bring brooms. Deciding to first obtain his school robes (Draco spent a long time in fitting rooms as he could only purchase robes that fit perfectly) he slowly entered Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions.

Madam Malkin was currently fitting a student, but when her eyes landed on Draco, she enchanted her measuring tape to finish the task and immediately walked towards the front desk.

"Mr. Malfoy! How wonderful it is to see you. You are being fitted for your first year robes, am I correct? I will see to you at once."

She quickly finished the young boy in the back before whisking Draco towards the mirrors. She had just set to her measurements when the door opened once again.

"I'll be right back, dear," Madam Malkin called on another witch to finish taking Draco's measurements before quickly walking back to the front of the room. Draco strained to hear the conversation in the front of the shop, but was only able to catch pieces of the exchange.

"Hogwarts, dear? Got the lot, --- being fitted, --- in fact"
Draco caught sight of the young boy who had entered, taken aback by how different the boy looked from the Draco's own reflection. Draco's silver-blond hair was slicked back, his face full, and robes fitted perfectly, a telling sign of a proper and expensive upbringing. In the reflection, Draco eyed the boy's deep Raven hair, sticking up in all directions, his thin face, as if he had never once eaten a real meal in his life, his wire glasses held together by a substance Draco was not familiar with, and his oversized clothing, threatening to fall to the ground around the boy's thin frame.

"Hello, Draco greeted. "Hogwarts too?"

The boy nodded slightly in repsonse. "Yes."

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands." Draco explained, quickly realizing he was probably boring the raven-haired boy with his commentary on his parents' whereabouts. He quickly chose a new topic as to keep the boy's attention.

"The I'm going to to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't gave their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow." Draco carefully looked at the boy, wondering if he felt the same about flying as Draco; flying was the ultimate freedom where nothing can catch you and nothing can bring you down.