Where Your Eyes Linger

Chapter 2

"There. Are. No. Exceptions," Lucius Malfoy hissed between clenched teeth. There was a muscle twitching in his jaw that Draco had learned meant that provoking the man would be detrimental to his health.

Draco had wasted no time in telling his father every detail about Hogwarts, including the reasons why it wouldn't compare to what he had heard about Durmstrang Institute. Knowing what his father's reaction would be, Draco had purposely left out the part where he not only met but admired a Mudblood. That is, until the last few weeks before the start of the next school year. Draco figured it would be better then, because that way he wouldn't have to worry about letting it slip anymore and he would be leaving soon, so the punishments couldn't last too long. Still, Draco, in his explanation, couldn't help but add his thoughts on why Hermione was so brilliant. Obviously, this hadn't gone down too well.

"But Father, she—"

"She is a filthy Mudblood who soils the ground that we pure-bloods walk on. I thought I taught you this, Draco," Lucius continued. There was a note in his voice that told Draco not to push it.

Instead, he merely dropped his head and said in a defeated way, "Sorry, Father, it won't happen again."

Unfortunately for Draco, it did happen again—almost. Walking into Flourish and Blotts with Lucius, Draco spotted the unmistakable brown ball of fluff that was the back of Hermione's head. He immediately stood up a little straighter and absentmindedly smoothed the front of his robes. A sharp pain to his knees, however, destroyed this demeanor. Lucius had whacked his son on the knees with his cane. At first Draco, feared it was because his father also recognized Granger, but his next words dispelled this thought.

"Draco, what have I told you about overdoing your posture?" Lucius spat.

"That it looks nearly as bad as slouching," Draco responded, trying to hide the relief in his voice. Looking for a chance to hide his smile as well, Draco looked over his shoulder and pointed, adding, "Father, may I go look over here for my books while you look elsewhere?"

"Yes, yes, Draco, I shall meet you soon," Lucius said huffily, his blonde hair streaking behind him as he skirted off and away from Draco.

Draco, knowing his father would find out about a meeting with only Granger, decided to insult his enemy, Harry Potter, knowing full well that Hermione was one of his friends and most likely nearby. It was, indeed, childish to think that insulting someone's friend would make them talk to you, but then, Draco was a child at the time.

Unfortunately for Draco, his father had to go and pick a fight with the Weasleys, getting them kicked out in no time.

"Father, was that really necessary?" Draco asked, ignoring the bruises that were forming quickly on Lucius's fair skin.

Lucius straightened his hair haughtily before replying, "Well, Draco, they were a collection of blood-traitors, Muggles, and Mudbloods. It's not my fault that none of them were able to restrain themselves."

"But it is your fault when you provoke them, knowing full well what it will lead to, as you're implying," Draco said in a strained voice.

"Draco, are you suggesting that I was in the wrong?" The muscle was twitching again and Draco, remembering that pain in his legs from earlier, quickly lowered his head again.

"Of course not, Father," he murmured.

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"Draco! What are you doing here?" Hermione asked from behind the book she was reading, alone in her train compartment. She hadn't seen Harry or Ron since she'd gotten on the train and had assumed that they both decided to ditch her. This hurt her deeply, as she had thought they were her first true friends. Covering this pain was a layer of even more bossiness mixed with crankiness. This was not good for poor Draco, who had also hurt her by his sudden cruelness the year before. "Well, I was late in coming to the station this morning, and every other compartment was full except this one, but I can tell that I'm not wanted, so I'll just leave then," Draco said, turning.