"I Write My Own Story"

Un

Harry scribbled furiously away on a piece of paper the morning of July 31, 1998. It had been about 8 months since the final wizarding war. It was over. He had won. That battle.

Still writing, Harry ran a hand through his messy hair. He was on his fourth year, having scribbled away the little he remembered of the first three years quite quickly. However, he was struggling on this year in particular because he was stuck. On quite a peculiar event actually.

Yes, Fourth year was the year Cedric died, but he wasn't thinking about that right now.

"Me and my father have a bet you see." Malfoy smirked, perched halfway up a tree. "I bet you won't last ten minutes in the tournament." He jumped down, a dazzling smirk on his pale face.

Harry stopped. Did he just use the word dazzling to describe Draco Malfoy? He tried again.

He jumped down, a smirk playing on his pale lips-

No, he was doing it again. Scraping the lines out, he tried for a third time. Third time's the charm, right?

He jumped down, a smirk set on his pale, angular face.

This is stupid, Harry thought, scratching out what he just wrote. Why was he being so- so... descriptive? He shook his head and sighed. Even out of school, Malfoy was annoying him.

"Harry, dear?"

Harry looked up. Molly Weasley was standing there, a soft smile on her face. "How would you like to return to Hogwarts?"

<><><><><><>

Harry stood on Platform 9 ¾ on the morning of September 1st, ducking his head. There were a lot more people returning to Hogwarts than he expected. Climbing onto the train, he sat in an empty compartment. Hermione and Ron had been given the privilege of being head boy and head girl, so he was alone in a compartment. For a little while, at least.

The door swung open as a boy with platinum blonde hair with a blue streak huffed and sat down.

Harry's eyes darted immediately to the unfamiliar character. He was a Slytherin, from what he could tell, and at least a seventh year. Suddenly, the character heaved a deep sigh and rubbed his eyes. Harry spoke up timidly.

"Uh, sorry do I know you?"

The characters head snapped towards his direction. Stormy gray eyes met green. "Have you hit your head, Potter?"

This was Draco Malfoy? But he looked so... un- Malfoyish. "Aha, sorry. You just look a lot different." Harry replied, gesturing towards his hair. His face, he noted, had also gotten a lot less pointy.

"Yeah, no shite," he said dryly. "What are you even doing here? I thought perfect Potter would've just gone straight in with the aurors."

"That's none of your business, Malfoy." He snapped. Draco tensed at his yelling and scooted away slightly.

"Sorry I just wanted to know why Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world, is back for another year at this shitey school."

"First of all, Malfoy, this school is not shite. Second, why do you care?"

Harry looked at Malfoy as he narrowed his eyes at him. He was expecting some quick retort, but got something entirely different.

"Look," Malfoy started. "I really don't like you. For a lot of reasons. But," he continued hastily, seeing the look on Harry's face, "I can tell you're not doing so well. You're malnourished." He added at the end. "I guess, I've been where you are now, and I want to help?" He shook his head. "Forget I said anything. I'm probably overthinking things again."

Harry gaped at Malfoy. He was so different, awkward, unsure of himself. He gave him a nervous smile. "Thank you for the concern,Malfoy. But I think I can handle myself."

Malfoy nodded tentatively, and drew his legs into his chest, falling asleep quickly.

Harry watched him, noting how peaceful he looked. He stayed like that until he heard the door swing open again.

"Hey Ron, Hermione." His best friends were standing in the doorway and walked in, sitting across from him.

"Hi Harry," Hermione said brightly.

"Who's your friend?" Ron said, gesturing towards Malfoy, not recognizing him because his face was buried in his arms.

Harry shook his head. "I assure you, he's no friend. Quite the opposite really."

"Who is it then?" Ron wondered. "I'll wake him up."

"No, Ron I don't think-" But he was too late.

"Hey you! Mr. Bluestreak!"

Malfoy lifted his head and blinked open his stormy gray eyes. He cocked an eyebrow. "Last I checked, Weasley, my last name was Malfoy."

Ron and Hermione gaped at him. "You're- You're Malfoy?" Ron gasped.

"Again, last I checked, yes. And you're Weasel. Don't act so surprised." Said Malfoy, rolling his eyes.

"But- you look so- not Malfoy!"

"What does that even mean?" Malfoy sighed. "Whatever. I'm going to find Pansy and Blaise." Then he left.

Ron gaped at the door he just left out of. "There's no way that's Malfoy. I'm dreaming."

"Maybe he's trying to change?" Hermione asked, more to herself.

"Why was he even in here with you, Harry?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "He kind of just walked in and fell asleep."

"I wonder why he came back?" Hermione murmured. Well, that's for me to know, and you to find out.

Hey guys! Here we go, the journey has started! Be prepared-