I think the most valuable thing that could come from a human life is a story. A story made of memories that are as true as their name. I'd know - I'm part of one of the greatest tales of all.
"Draco!" I called to the blond idiot I call my best friend. "Come on, Dobby's made dinner!"
Draco looked down from his place in the air and began speeding down to me on his broom, stopping about half a metre in front of me. "When is your dad coming back to town again? I want you to stop bothering me."
"Tomorrow, unfortunately." I took the end of his broom and yanked it out from under him, his back bashing against the grass of the Malfoys' backyard. "Come on."
He groaned, brushing off the dirt from his clothes and following me into the manor.
"Thanks for the food, Dobby," I said to the cowering house elf, who nodded and pulled out my chair for me to sit before scurrying off to who knows where.
Draco sat across from me, although the table was well over 10 metres long with ten chairs on either side.
"You still seem angry about not going to Durmstrang. What's the matter with Hogwarts?" I asked.
"With all the sorry excuses for wizards in there? Rather annoying, wouldn't you say?"
I rolled my eyes and sipped from the glass of water to my right. "Well, it's one of the best wizarding schools in the world, so be grateful that you're going."
His grey eyes glared at me through his brows, a sneer on his lips. While he knew basic table manners, I thought he was about to fling a meatball at me.
I have known Draco all my life and while it's always fun to be a tease, he cannot stand anyone ruling him inferior by any count. I've seen him explode over minor things like being laughed at when he fell in the mud while flying.
"Well, what do you think about it?"
I pondered over the question, never having been asked. "Hopefully it's not boring," I finally said, making Draco's brow quirk. "'Hopefully it's not boring'? You think that being in the best wizarding school in the world is boring?"
"Geez, Draconis, you'd think you weren't just complaining about it a moment ago."
My back leaned against my chair, a wind of a sigh leaving my lips. "You think that being at school could possibly be exciting? It's either you've never left that broom or never laid eyes on a book."
"The manor has a library, you know?" He seemed to pout, but hid it with irritated eyes. "And it's not like regular school."
"Yes, yes." I waved my hand dismissively before rising from my seat, plate in hand.
The sound of the chair scraping on the floor summoned two house elves, who took the plates, including the one in my hand, and rushed off to the kitchen.
"You'll never learn basic house skills," I told Draco, whose eyes rolled as he replied, "I don't need to. We have elves and magic for that."
My brow raised, but I felt no need to scold him for not having the basic skills needed to survive. Even if he didn't, I was sure that he'd find some desperate someone that was enthralled by him enough to do everything for him.
"By the way," I started on a new topic. "When I said book, I wasn't talking about the ones in the wizarding world."
His brows knit together. "You didn't."
"Perhaps I did."
"Father said we couldn't."
"Your father said we couldn't. My father, on the other hand, has had a recent fascination with a rubber duck."
Draco's mouth hung open as I walked past him, my path to the bedroom we shared clear of anything to stop me. "They're hidden under your mattress, by the way. In the unlikely case of anyone finding them."
"Why, you conniving wart!"
What was hidden under the mattress? A plethora of Muggle books that Lucius found dirty.
I sauntered past the large painting of the Malfoy family, each seeming to glare down at me like I was an outsider within their home. Not that I wasn't.
Unlike the Malfoys, I nor anyone in my family had any interest in power, hierarchy, or such mundane things like that. I craved a story, something to read, something to occupy my mind, something so extraordinary that even You-Know-Who himself would be flabbergasted by it.
Only one story of the wizarding world could possibly be so amazing to me, but everybody knew the story of The Boy Who Lived. But eventually, reading the newspaper again and again got rather dull.
Draco entered the bedroom quicker than me, yanking the mattress off of his bed frame to reveal the endless books I had kept hidden - by endless, I mean four.
"You bloody mad-woman!"
I rolled my eyes for the second time that hour and lifted the books out of their hiding place and into the luggage I kept in the corner. "What a drama queen."
"What if they were found? Father would have killed me!"
"A pleasure to the world, I'd say."
He blinked furiously and sat down on the floor in pure disbelief.
"You make it seem like he caught me." I sat down on the floor and looked up at the ceiling of his room.
Mine was littered with murals and stars while his was just a blank ceiling painted black, like everything else in this house.
"Do you think Lucius would let us paint on the ceiling?"
His head snapped towards me, his eyes wide in even more disbelief. "You cannot be serious."
"You've gotta learn how to live, Draconis." I stood, looking up at the ceiling with my hands on my hips, as if a painter searching for inspiration on their blank canvas. "We could put constellations one would never truly see beside each other so you can continue to brood without being interrupted by a bright sunset above head."
He followed my gaze, eyes glittering as he imagined it.
Am I a bad influence on Draco?
No, I do not believe so.
There are things the boy wouldn't even dream of if it weren't for my existence. Like having friends. He's incredibly annoying, I will never know how I put up with him for so long.
I introduced him to the world of Muggle music, although I must nudge him if I hear even a chorus of a song humming through his closed lips. Now it was time for their stories.
"Look here," I whispered, pulling my luggage towards me.
He feigned contempt but his straying eyes betrayed him the moment I took out the book with the name Sherlock Holmes in large letters.
I had reeled him with A Study in Scarlet and The Sign of Four, and now with my hands on the third book, he leaned in.
After a few chapters, I heard the sound of someone walking down the hallway outside of Draco's room.
We turned to each other and he opened the drawer.
I threw the book to him, which he shoved into his drawer and shut.
If Draco was found with a Muggle book in his room, he may as well be dead, and I may as well never have known him.
The door opened and his mother walked in, her eyes examining the room with her chin tilted up, as if everything within it was beneath her. When her eyes met Draco's, her head tilted downward and a warm smile appeared on her face.
"Draco," she greeted in an elegant whisper. She nodded a greeting to me before continuing, "You must go to Diagon Alley this week's end to retrieve items for school. You may bring your friend if you like."
"Don't I have my stuff already?"
"Most of it, yes. But your owl and your textbooks must be bought as well."
"What's wrong with father's?"
"That's for him to send letters to you. You also must send letters back. Besides, Y/N's father requests that you accompany her."
Draco shot me a look, to which I innocently smiled to signal that I had no say in that request.
"Fine."
"Good. I do hope you have fun at Hogwarts, Draco."
"Yes mother, I know." I waited a moment before elbowing him and making him cough out a, "Thank you."
Narcissa exited his room with the same elegance she used to enter it.
"That actually worked!" he exclaimed with triumph.
"I panicked, it will not happen again! I thought she'd definitely say, 'I heard a drawer shut' and start rummaging."
He opened the drawer of his nightstand, pulled out the book, and held it out to me, which I took and placed into my luggage.
"You'd make a great Slytherin," Draco said.
"Would I? I think yellow would suit me."
We stared at each other and broke into laughter. "Yeah, right," I muttered as I sat on my luggage to close it. "Nothing against the Hufflepuffs, but I don't think I'd fit in there. You're definitely a Slytherin, though."
"Really?" he questioned sarcastically. "I think Gryffindor would suit me nicely."
"Yeah, if Gryffindor were full of pricks."
"Who says it isn't?"
"Me." I aimed my finger at myself with a grin. "After all, I know one when I see one."
We were eleven.
Wonder-filled eyes, innocent laughs, and barely a care in the world.
At least, from my perspective, it was. I didn't know about Draco.
Yes, he was my best friend, yet at times, I couldn't ignore the door that stood in between us, telling us that we were not meant to be.
Perhaps I'd become his Sherlock Holmes, on an eternal quest to find the truth behind his mystery.
But for now, I think it's okay for me to be left in the dark.
Notes:
• It's like, really slow burn
• Yes you're friends with Draco, no, you don't agree with his antics
• I gave personalities to either very minor characters or characters only mentioned once or twice (aka extras) since you're not part of either Slytherin or Gryffindor
• I made you a major supporting character, not quite doing the same things as the golden trio but being very close with them (namely Hermione)
• There aren't any additional trigger warnings that are separate from the books/movies
• Some of the fanfic is accurate to the books and some of it is accurate to the movie (there are also included deleted scenes) so don't go fact checking me too fast
• Neville basically looks the same as in the movies, except he's blond, as per the book's description
Enjoy!