Chapter 13- The Life and Times of Draco Malfoy

I sat in the room of requirements with a scowl on my face. Lucius had deemed it fit to send me a letter with instructions on conducting myself at the ball. Narcissa had also sent over the robes I would be wearing.

Apparently, the only reason we hadn’t gone shopping for them during the summer was to account for any growth spurts and make sure I was decked in the latest fashion possible. Both my parents had sent letters, and both letters were much different. Lucius’ spoke on who I should be taking to the ball. He’d even gone so far as to include a list of girls I should consider approaching. The fact that he’d added a pros and cons assessment of each of the girls he mentioned was more than a little creepy. Let’s not even mention that he included Susan Bones’ childbearing hips as one of the reasons I should approach her over the others.

If I hadn’t already thought he was a creep, then I might have ev3en been shocked by what he’d said. Narcissa’s letter was more appropriate and contained information on which of the robes she felt I should choose out of the seven she’d sent as well as instructions on how to match my choice with my date’s outfit. She even added tips on how to approach a potential date. With these two letters, it was clear neither of my parents was even considering the possibility of me not attending the ball. Since Hermione would be attending, I had no real reason not to.

The ball presented the opportunity for me to perform some subtle politicking and maybe even begin building connections of my own. The wizarding world was built on power, and while I’d portrayed my magical power in the tournament, I had to see about acquiring the other forms of power that would be available to me.

Looking over the options for a date Lucius proposed, I began crossing out the most undesirable. Daphne Greengrass was a definite No. Draco’s memories and my own observations told me everything I needed to know. She’s a bitch with a capital B. I cared little about whether it was an act or not, as fanon would suggest. The possibility of having to moderate her abrasive personality was a pain in the ass I wasn’t even going to risk.

Pansy Parkinson was also a No. She was a bigot of the highest order, and I needed to branch out from my own house either way. With that same reasoning, all the options from Slytherin were also crossed out. Of the other options, the most feasible were Susan Bones, Cho Chang, Fleur Delacour, and Athena Manois. The Manois heiress had kicked my ass in the duel, so attending with her might send the message that there were no hard feelings.

I doubted that that was the case, though. She’d sent a fully charged lightning spell at me. Animosity like that just didn’t die down. Besides, Lucius had also advised that I try my best to avoid asking anyone I felt likely to refuse me. It could send a message that I didn’t want to be sent.

Susan Bones was very unlikely to say yes to me as well. She’d been a victim of some of Draco’s barbs in the past, and the glares she sent me when I passed her in the halls showed she wasn’t going to just let bygones be bygones. Fleur Delacour was an attractive option, all things considered. Her family was one of the richest in France, and they could provide an inroad into French politics that could be useful in future. Unfortunately, she was a half-breed. England was nowhere near as accepting of her kind as France was, and taking her to the ball could send a message about my personal beliefs. Honestly speaking, I had nothing against her kind but showing that would alienate the people who did have issues against them.

It would be simpler to not take her and keep my views in question. The final option was Cho Chang. She was from a branch of one of the five great families that ruled in China. Her blood could be traced back thousands of years, and while she wasn’t from the main family, her branch of the family still commands enormous wealth. Nothing compared to the combined Black and Malfoy fortunes, but still more than substantial. She was the best of the available options, and I had to ask her as soon as possible.

My knowledge of canon told me she’d agreed to go with Cedric Diggory before Potter could get to ask her. Still, since he’d waited till the last minute, I had decent chances that she hadn’t been asked yet. I could spend a few hours trying to subtly inquire, but that would only be a waste of time and might make my interest known to the public. Besides, I had a better way of asking.

I asked the room to show me the positions of all the students in the school, and it gave me a view similar to the Marauder’s map. I asked the room to highlight her name in red and found that she was near the astronomy tower. She was also alone. I found myself coming out of a secret passage a few feet away from where she was a few minutes later.

It took a bit of walking to catch up to her. However, when I did, I ensured my disillusionment charm was still active before using the spell I’d been practising for weeks. I entered her mind with ease and sent thoughts of the ball at her. Luckily, she was a teenage girl, and those thoughts wouldn’t be odd for her. It was easy to find out that she’d already said yes to Cedric Diggory a few days ago.

I retreated from her mind and returned to the room in disappointment.        With Cho Chang already taken, that left Fleur Delacour as the next best option. It would be making a statement about my politics, but there could be benefits to that. The entire progressive part of the Wizengamot might be more likely to look favourably on the move.

I’d also have to place some trust in Lucius. He must have considered the possible effects of taking Fluer to the ball. The fact that he still included her as an option showed he had some way to mitigate the downsides, or he felt the rewards would vastly outweigh the risks.

My course of action was decided, and I asked the room to highlight Fleur’s name in red. It showed her n the grounds with a gaggle of beuxbatons students around her. I knew she didn’t have a date yet. I was far removed from Hogwarts gossip, but something like that couldn’t escape my notice.

Now, I had to make a choice. Walk up to her in front of a crowd of her friends and risk her rejection or attempt to catch her alone to ask at a later time. Even considering being forced to sleuth around like a creep, waiting for her to get alone rubbed me wrong. Besides, I’d never actually seen her without an entourage of Beauxbatons women around her. A coward is one thing I’m not. ‘Fear is the mind-killer, I mumbled to myself as I asked the room to create a passageway to the ground floor.

From there, the journey to the part of the grounds where I’d seen her on the map was a short one. Too short for me to come up with anything more than the bare bones of a strategy.

As I looked at her and the crowd around her, I forced myself to keep walking, to continue my approach. The closer I got to the group, the more I wanted to turn around. I ignored those feelings, though, and drew on my occlumency as I came in range of the passive aura Veela were known to possess. A full Veela’s aura was said to be powerful enough to drive men mad, but luckily, I wasn’t after a full Veela.

While I felt the desire to do something impressive to get her attention, ignoring that desire was child’s play. “Fleur Delacour”, I called out as I approached. The group of ladies did me the favour of pretending they hadn’t known I was coming from miles away as they turned and gave me their full attention.

I took out my wand and waved it through the air. Once, twice, thrice, I just kept going. At some point, I must have looked to be conducting an invisible orchestra. The results of my actions showed themselves in little time when the grass around us started to come alive. Vines rose from the ground, with flowers blooming across them. They weaved and wound around each other till I’d created a garden of roses, daises, and sunflowers around us. Hagrid would be so pissed, but I turned my mind from that as I asked the question I came to ask.

“Will you do me the honour of accompanying me to the Yule Ball,” I asked as I grabbed a bouquet that was offered to me by one of the vines I’d created and offered it to her. Her face looked to be carved from marble as she looked at me and my display with an appraising eye.

My fear of rejection went through the roof before a smile broke out across her face, and she replied. “Oui, Oui. C’est Magnifique. I will be your date to the ball” Her smile was infectious, and I felt my face create a matching smile without my consent.

“Excellent. We will coordinate colours and attire at a later date, I take it?” I asked after floundering for a bit on what to say next.

“Yes. I’ll be in touch,” She said in that beautiful accent of hers, and I took my leave with a smile that could blind the sun on my face. I felt too energetic to return to studying, so when I got to the room, It was for some more duelling practice.

My wand moved in well-practised motions as I destroyed target after target with blasting curses, piercing hexes and whatever came to mind. This was something Snape had suggested. The goal was to destroy as many targets as possible without using the same spell more than twice in a row or more than ten times in general. I could barely keep this up for ten minutes when I initially started. Still, now I was up to thirty minutes of consistent practice.

Hermione was a godsend when it came to researching new pieces of magic to expand my spell repertoire. The goal of this training was to get me familiar with as many spells as possible. I can already hear you saying, ‘I fear not the man who has practised a thousand kicks, but the man who has practised a single kick a thousand times’. When I raised the concern with Snape, he’d laughed in my face.

‘Duelling is nothing like muggle combat’, he’d said with an impressive sneer on his face. I agreed with him, though. While one single spell can be adapted into potentially limitless applications, it would still never manage to beat a spell designed for that particular purpose.

Another benefit of learning dozens of different spells was that it would help with my spell deflection. The more spells I know, the more I can safely deflect. There’s also the benefit of training my mind to switch between the different states each spell required at a moment’s notice. Duelling was a complex art, and Snape’s help made me appreciate that complexity more and more. It also made me more capable of using that complexity to my advantage.

I was done with training for the day and relaxing in a hot tub provided by the room when I heard the sound of the door opening. “Draco?” I could hear from across the room.

“In here. Having a bath,” I shouted back for her to hear me.

“Okay. I’ll be studying.” She said, and I continued to enjoy the quiet relaxation only the room could provide. At this point, I had to come up with some sort of plan for my future.

I was already powerful. I’d managed to get to NEWT level in every practical course and even beyond that in transfiguration. I’d grow even more powerful as time passed. I was still nothing compared to a trained adult wizard-like an Auror, but I had no doubts I’d reach that point eventually.

Speaking of Aurors, the Auror department was still my easiest way into the ministry. If I ended up taking a job at the ministry, that is. There were multiple things I could do with my life after leaving Hogwarts. I didn’t need money, but more power would never go to waste. I could take a sabbatical, exploring the wizarding world and learning all the magic I could from as many sources as possible.

There was a lot I’d be interested in. The Ice magic of Greenland, the native shamanism of America, the martial magic of Russia, and the ritualistic magic of Africa. They all intrigued me. They all had me salivating at the thought. There was a problem with that, though. Voldemort would rise this year. It wasn’t something I could stop without putting myself at more risk than I’d ever be comfortable with.

I could go on a sabbatical the moment the tournament ends and return to England to join the fight a year into the dark lord’s reign, or I could stay and do what I could for the fight and then take my sabbatical at the end of the war.

There was a huge problem with that, though. If I spent years away from Britain after the war, then the decisions on how to move forward would have been made without my involvement. That wasn’t an option for one very obvious reason. I wanted to rule. I knew not if it was some remnant of Draco or if my original life and death had scarred me so much that I couldn’t bear the thought of living in a world where I did not have complete and total control over my fate.

I could just be a narcissist that was uncomfortable with the idea of anyone holding power over him. Either way, Britain would be mine. I’d ensure it. With my goal, if not my motivations, clear, there was only one real choice for me. I’d conclude my NEWTS with the tournament and take the tour of a lifetime. The magic of the world would open itself to me in the next few years, and when I felt ready, I’d take Voldemort himself on. I’d make him irrelevant. Show my superiority so thoroughly that magical Britain would have little choice than to give me all I desired. They’d make me the next Dumbledore, but I was nowhere near as selfless as he was.

Eventually, magic Britain would dance to my tune, and maybe one day, the world would join it. Enough of that for now, though. There was another matter I was being forced to consider.

Hermione Granger. I had no idea what to do with what I felt for her. Would I just ignore the feelings I felt and that I knew she reciprocated? Could I even do that? I was never the most disciplined of people, and I had little doubt that whatever decision I made regarding her, whatever rules I sought to impose on myself could be discarded in seconds when the motivation arose.

I got out of the tub and prepared myself to return to my day. It was relaxing, more relaxing than any hot tub had any right to be. My clothes appeared before me in the exact condition I’d left them in. I took out my wand and waved it over the clothes and around my body. The attire came to life, straightened and cleaned itself before enveloping me and having me dressed in a matter of seconds.

The room was a treasure trove of useful spells like this one. A spell to dress myself wasn’t something I’d known I needed till I went a week without performing the monotonous act of putting on clothes. It was truly impressive how much time we spent on things that were of little utility to our end goals. It was also impressive how many spells had been created to shave off those precious seconds of our day wasted on plebian tasks and chores. There was even a spell I could use to feed myself, but I’d store that one in my mental library for now. Call me old-fashioned, but I felt ill at ease with the thought of being fed by a spell. Especially when that spell came with several horror stories of how distracted casters had choked themselves with their own food.

Could such a thing ever happen to me? No, but there was little utility in risking it. I stepped out of the bathroom the room had created and watched it disappear as I left. Hermione was sitting by the library on one of the couches, and I went to join her.

I plopped down on the loveseat opposite her and carefully considered what I should study next. There were multiple choices, but the book on the animagus transformation was calling my name at the end of the day. A wave of my wand had unleashing the beast within, springing out of the shelf and flying to my outstretched hand. I could have had the room give me the book, but where was the fun in that.

“The entire castle is in an uproar over your date” were the words I heard from somewhere behind my book. I put it down, not forgetting to note the page I was on and gave Hermione my full attention. She was never one for offhand comments, so if she mentioned this, she wanted to talk about it.

“We already agreed not to go to the ball together, and as a champion I needed a date,” I said with a shrug.

“Fleur Delacour though? Did it need to be her? Did you need to really ask like that? A whole garden? Hagrid will be forced to spend weeks cleaning that up, you know?” She asked her questions while putting her own book down.

“She was the only real option. Her family has contacts in France and the continent at large that might prove useful later on. She was also the only one I knew likely to accept to go to the ball with me as friends without reading too much into it.” I answered her questions with the ease of an experienced politician, in my expert opinion at least.

“You had to ask like that though? You had to create a whole massive garden in the middle of the Hogwarts grounds? Do you have any idea how much work Hagrid puts in day after day to maintain those grounds?”

At this point, something told me it wasn’t really about the grounds. What I knew about Hermione Granger told me she didn’t really care about the Hogwarts grounds or the relative appearance of the space.

“She would have said no if I had asked in any less magnificent way,” I said while standing up from the loveseat and making my way to join her on the couch. I sat beside her and put a hand on her chin to turn her face towards mine so we’d be making eye contact.

“You’ve been in my mind. You know what I feel for you. You know Fleur is little more than a blip in my mind. I asked her out because it was efficient, nothing more nothing less.” She nodded to my explanation and I found myself moving my hand from her chin to her cheek. We started moving towards each other before I was fully conscious of what was happening.

We kept it slow, moving forward centimetres at a time. I could tell we were both giving the other an opportunity to back away at the last minute. Perhaps we both understood that nothing could ever remain the same if we crossed this step. I approached her slowly, and she did the same. Our eyes were joined, and all I saw in those brown eyes of hers were my own blue eyes.

We finally met in the middle, and I could feel fireworks spread across my world. Everything suddenly made sense. Her lips were soft, and as she joined them with mine, I felt nothing more than the desire to never stop. To never leave this moment. These seconds of perfection I’d managed to achieve in this imperfect world.

My hands wrapped around her body of their own accord. I pulled her closer, her body into mine, and she returned the favour. We never broke the kiss and continuously dragged, pulled and pushed our bodies until we were as close as we could get, and even that didn’t feel like enough.

XXXX

“White?” I asked with a groan. If I’d known Fleur would be this much of a pain when it came to finally deciding something to wear to the ball, I’d have asked Parkinson and doomed myself to a night of boredom.

“Non. Not Blanc.” She said with a shake of her head, and I just reclined back on my seat. We were in an abandoned classroom on the second floor, trying to coordinate our outfits for the ball.

Since Fleur’s family was at least as wealthy as mine, I had no doubts that she had multiple options on what to wear, and now we’re trying to come up with the best combination we could. I could care less about all this, but I doubted I would live very long if Narcissa saw any photos from the ball and realized I hadn’t matched colours with my date.

“What do you want to wear then?” She must have been waiting for this question since a smile spread across her face, and she started talking a mile a minute about all the combinations she wanted to try out for both our outfits.

I simply relaxed on my conjured couch and waited for her to come up with a decision. I’d only interfere if she chose a colour that would look horrible on me. Our skin tones might have been relatively similar, but I was pale enough that not every option appropriate for her would be appropriate for me.

XXXX

‘Dodge, duck, twirl, parry, deflect, shield’, I muttered my actions to myself as I moved around Snape’s duelling room while being hounded by his curses.

I tore down my shield before rolling on the floor and stabbing my wand into the ground to create an earthquake. He wasn’t even fazed and somehow managed to keep his footing before he sent multiple curses screaming my way.

I practically flew from my previous position. Snape never aimed to kill, so my life wasn’t in danger, but every spell he sent was calculated for maximum pain. If I took this as anything less than a life or death battle, then I would quickly find myself writhing in pain on the floor.

I focused for less than a second before a bolt of lightning shot out of my wand and slammed into a silver shield he conjured with a flick of his wand. The Slytherin crest on the shield made me think it was the same one Voldemort used against Dumbledore in the ministry. The shield proved its power when I didn’t even warp under the onslaught of a lightning spell.

I jumped to the left and sent a bone-breaker at his body behind the shield. He moved to the right and allowed the shield to absorb the curse.

I thrust my wand at the ground again and watched as hands made of stone ripped themselves out of the ground and tried to grab at his body. Lightning elemental manipulation had taken a backseat in recent times to allow me to focus on less instantly deadly elements. My control over water and earth was coming along nicely. Even fire was looking good. He obliterated them with a wave of his wand that created a force that shoved me backwards. I could barely manage to keep my feet. When the dust cleared, I started firing as many spells as possible. I could only watch with irritation as the shield absorbed all of them without showing any signs of weakening.

Having had enough, I stabbed my wand at his shield and watched as a bolt of fire bright enough to almost blind me covered his shield. I shoved as much power as possible into the spell, trying to overcome the shield with sheer force.

I didn’t see the spell that hit me. All I knew was that I woke again on the floor of the duelling room. I groaned as I noticed Snape standing over me with that look on his face that told me I was about to get another lecture.

“Are you suicidal, boy? Tell me!” He added the last part when I didn’t immediately answer his question. I shook my head, unable to come up with words in the face of the kind of rage he’d never shown me before.

“Then what was that? Attempting to overcome an imprimis shield with sheer magical power? You’re lucky I noticed what was happening and was able to knock you out before you killed yourself.”

What? There was no way. I mean, I felt a little tired, but I hadn’t been anywhere near magical exhaustion. Not yet, at least.

Snape just gave me a look that shut up the objections I might have voiced. “Get out of here, and no magic for the day” was all he said before he left with a twirl of his robes.

I took a deep breath, stood up, and made my way to the room. I didn’t think I was in as much danger as Snape said, but I still wouldn’t be using any magic today. My life is the most important thing I have, after all. Risking it because I felt I knew better than someone who was enough of a magical prodigy to be the youngest professor ever employed at Hogwarts would be a more stupid choice than I’d ever made.

In light of that, there was nothing else to do today than study. I’d mailed my request to take the OWLs this Christmas to Mafalda Hoprik of the department of education, and she’d replied that I would be able to take it with the winter takers. It was set for two days before the yule ball, and I had to prepare for it.

The room understood my needs, and I was met with a cosy study when I opened the door. I went to the desk and sat down before opening the revision text for herbology. I was going to be starting with the courses I was least comfortable with and then moving on to the ones I had more confidence in my knowledge of.

Since I was taking all 12 OWLs, I had to be more tactical with my time. Why all 12, you might ask? It was all for the optics. Dumbledore took 12 OWLs, and doing the same a year younger than he was when he did it would be a useful flex. Dumbledore was far from the only person to achieve the feat, but he was the most famous example. Both Tom Riddle, and Bartemius Crouch Junoir had managed it as well.

Being able to say I was roughly on the same level as these people were when they were my age was also a confirmation to myself that I was on the right path. It wasn’t going to be easy, though. Even if I had advantages that none of them shared. I had no need to study muggle studies since I’d lived a whole lifetime as a muggle, and my arithmancy studying would only be a light overview. I’d done maths for most of my first life. While arithmancy wasn’t just mathematics, many probability calculations were involved.

Transfiguration was perhaps the subject I felt most confident about. I was going through mastery-level theories on the subject, even if I was only a bit above NEWT level regarding the more practical aspects. Defence Against the Dark Arts was going to come with a bit of baggage. I wanted to learn the Patronus charm to display during the practical. If Potter could do it at 13, then I had to be able to do it at 14.

The only problem was that all my attempts had led to little more than fog. Even the thought of what I’d shared with Hermione couldn’t produce anything more than a thick mist. While the mist was impressive, I would never be satisfied with anything less than a corporeal Patronus.

That was a consideration for later, though. Right now, I have to learn the proper way to prune venomous tentacula.

A/N; The relationship might seem a bit quick but let's remember that they're both teenagers. Love builds fast and burns hot between those folks. How does the rest of the chapter look?