To the ever-fabulous and witty, LittleNightDragon, who has been an amazing friend and supporter and is a fellow Drarry-shipper. And the reason I finally decided to do the extension to the original and my first drarry story, Five Stages of Kissing. Ash, I hope you enjoy one of two of your birthday fanfics.
Chapter 1: First Impression and Initiation
Platinum blonde hair gelled and combed, dressed in the finest robes from his closet that was a shade or two darker than his gray eyes, five year old Draco Malfoy looked every bit as the adorable and perfect pureblood child that he was. Clothes pressed, well put-together, not a hair out of place.
Too bad his clean-cut, sparkling appearance didn't match the depressing gray clouding inside of him.
"Straighten up!" His father's command was sharp as a knife. The young boy's head immediately shot up; his back straightened.
He snuck a peek over at his father lounging in his favorite chair in the drawing room. He was passing the time which felt particularly long to the child by reading the paper, the Daily Prophet.
"Yes father." Draco mumbled, trying not to sulk.
His attempt apparently didn't have enough effort behind it. A frown crossed his mother's pretty face as she looked over at him. A dark-brown brow lifted slightly.
"Draco," she warned.
The sulking child huffed and crossed his arms, looking down at the polished floors beneath his feet to avoid his parents' pointed looks. His reflection stared back at him, looking just as sullen, as if he sucked a sour lemon.
He supposed deep down, in the deepest and darkest corners of his mind, he was acting like the brat Blaise always accused him of being. He couldn't help it though.
He hated Sundays. Hated them with a special sort of hatred that was reserved for the assignments his tutors gave him and the Weasleys. And for good reasons, too. Sundays were the shortest days of the week. One minute it was morning, and in a blink of the eye it was nighttime. His parents were often busier. And-the worst of them all-a special event took place every other Sunday which he enjoyed as much as a Muggle-child enjoyed a visit to the strange teeth doctor.
He could never understand how his parents could stand dealing with the guests that were invited over for more than a minute. The men were mean, measuring him with their cool gazes. Draco wished more than once he could respond with a kick to the ankle instead of the smile he usually pasted on. The women were no better. He lost the numbers of times his nose nearly died on the spot from the nasty perfume they doused themselves in. In a matter of seconds they ruined the hair that took the house-elves minutes to perfect, running their fingers all over it. And each time he found it more and more difficult not to spit into their faces when they cooed at him like he was a porcelain doll and yanked his cheeks.
But this Sunday tea was different. Another pure-blood would be coming, but this pureblood was a newcomer in his parents' social circle even though he was part of a family that has been around for centuries, rich in wealth and influence.
A newcomer pureblood with an unusual wife.
She wasn't a pure-blood. She wasn't even new money, which would have been more acceptable. Or even a half-blood. That could have been over-looked, though just a bit. No, she was in fact a Muggle-born witch. A mudblood.
When Draco had been told this over breakfast, he nearly spat out his juice.
A mudblood? A mudblood was coming over to their house? More importantly, his father was actually going to allow it?
He turned over to his father, needing an explanation. His mother had provided one.
Lily Evans-Potter was a medi-witch, apparently one of the finest the medical field had seen in years, earning great recognition for her work in not only London but all of Europe, just reaching some parts of North America. And she was a good friend of Snape.
The first bit of information raised Draco's eyebrows, but the second one? His mouth nearly dropped.
Snape? As in his godfather, Severus Snape, who could be grouchy and unpleasant most of the time even if he did like you. Which applied to very few people. He found ninety percent of the population unworthy of his time, except for the infamous, sharp verbal lashing he spat out. Draco had witness a few Hogwarts students nearly breaking down in tears from those lashings.
"Severus was how I met Lily," Mother said. "She was over at his house when I stopped by for tea. Turns out the rumors of her brilliance weren't in vain. She was quite impressive."
He turned over to his father, who shrugged easily.
"For a muggle-born, she seems to be quite the rarity," He buttered his toast. "I suppose Potter could have done worse."
Potter. Potter. Draco was vaguely familiar with the name. Now he remembered. Potter as in James Potter, who served as an Auror for the Ministry. If he recalled correctly, he was one of the few people at the Ministry his father didn't find to be a complete nuisance.
As odd as the paring were, they weren't the reason why Draco was sulking. It was because of the extra person the Potters would be bringing along with them.
Their son, Harry. According to Mother, he was close to his age. A "wonderful" boy.
"I think you two would get along well, Dragon." she smiled.
A snort emerged from his father as he glanced over at Draco, a ghostly smirk turning his lip. It only showed that, as busy as his father was, he did know him. He knew him well enough to know that Draco hated being roped into watching over the children of their guests.
Draco wasn't stupid. He knew there was a motive behind the Sunday tea. Along with conversing with their friends, it was also for Draco to build a circle of his own. To make friends.
Too bad for his parents, he found every single child that accompanied the guest to be a pest.
In the beginning, he didn't mind hosting the younger guests. In fact he loved it. Being trusted to handle the children while his parents took care of the parents gave him pride. It made him feel important. Grown-up. Plus, it meant having someone other than his parents and the house-elves to talk to. Someone his own age to show off his new toys to, to play with. As time went on, though, the job quickly went from being exciting to boring. The children his parents' guests brought over weren't fun anymore. None could keep his attention longer than a few seconds before they bored him completely. On top of that, they were just annoying.
No doubt this Harry would be just like the others.
Green flames roared from the fireplace. Their guests had finally arrived. Draco braced himself.
Please let this afternoon tea go by quickly, he begged Merlin. Please. Please. Pretty Please.
The first thing to step out from the Floo was a long, jean-clad leg. Attached to that leg was a man who was tall as Father, dressed in Muggle clothes though they did look to be in good quality so Draco dismissed the offense. His hair was remarkably dark, a deep shade of black, and shaggy. Behind his glasses, a pair of dark eyes sparked with a certain light as he looked over at the family, saving Draco for last. Unlike the other men who waved him off with a barely-acknowledged glance, the man kneeled down and smiled at him. A real, genuine smile.
That's certainly rare, Draco thought, watching the man. So this was James Potter. He didn't seem too bad. Though the clothes could be better, he seemed alright.
"My, my, my. Your parents certainly held back. They told me you were a cute boy, not a strapping young man," James looked past his shoulder to smile over at his parents. "I'd watch him closely if I were you, Narcissa. I see a mischievous prankster in this one. Could even grow up to be a heart-breaker."
His mother rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging on her lips. His father appeared amused.
James winked at Draco, as if they shared a secret. Before Draco could react, the Floo roared again.
A woman emerged from the flames walking into the room with such elegance it stunned Draco that she wasn't a pureblood. She certainly possessed the looks. Though she wasn't as regal as his mother, there was something striking about her. Something that drew the eye. Waves of fiery red hair tumbled down her shoulders and the most striking pair of green eyes smiled as they looked down at him.
And she wasn't alone.
Attached to her hand, holding onto it as if it was his life-line, was a small boy. He was practically a miniature version of James. He was Draco's opposite in almost every way. Hair dark and wild as opposed to Draco's styled white-blonde hair. Piercing green eyes behind large-round framed glasses to clear mercury gray. A red and black shirt and jeans to Draco's robes.
Draco had no idea how closely he was studying the boy until the touch of his mother's hand on his shoulder brought him back.
His mother smiled at the woman. "Hello Lily."
"Narcissa," the woman-acclaimed healer, Severus' friend-smiled. "It's lovely to see you again."
"You as well," Mother smiled down at the boy who was too scared to meet her eye. "Hello Harry."
"Hello Mrs. Malfoy."
"Now, Harry, none of that. Like I told you before, it's Aunt Narcissa or Cissa."
Well, that was certainly surprising. It usually took guests a year before they reached first-name basis with Mother.
"This is my son, Draco," Mother said. "You two can play together today."
Harry looked like he was fine just where he was, close by his mother's side, looking down at the floor. His mother didn't agree. With a gentle smile, she pried her hand free and nudged him forward.
"It's alright, Harry. Don't be shy."
Harry finally looked up. Draco, who at this point was ready to pretend that he was sick to avoid this play-date, sucked in a sharp breath.
Being so close to him, Draco saw how truly amazing those eyes were. Big, bright, and incredibly green. Like two pieces of emerald with a certain light in them that both baffled and intrigued him. Even though the boy's mother shared the same eye color, Harry's just seemed…more to Draco. Bigger, brighter, more beautiful.
Looking into those eyes, Draco felt something slither inside him as those green-green eyes looked at him. Something odd that moved like a snake, sparking a strange warmth that coiled in the pit of his stomach. He nearly shivered.
His mother once again brought him back as she gently nudged him closer. He knew what would happen next. He'd reach out his hand, Harry would take it, and then they'd go to either his room or the playroom while the adults stayed here. Recognizing his cue, Draco stuck his out his hand and waited patiently for Harry's. But the boy either didn't know the steps or didn't care for the dance, leaving Draco to hold nothing but the air that slipped through his fingers. He didn't accept his hand.
He did, however, follow Draco as he escorted them upstairs to his wing. Harry didn't say a word, but his eyes said enough as they looked over the house, taking in the paintings, the statues, the chandeliers, and portraits of past Malfoys and Blacks that stared back at him curiously.
Those bright green-emeralds were wide as saucers as they entered his room. Draco smiled, pleased.
His room certainly was impressive if he did say so himself. The size of two master bedrooms rolled into one, it was large and very open, painted in light shades of blue and silver. Sunshine poured from the wide, opened windows. His bed, a king-size poster canopy, was pushed against the wall with the curtains swaying slightly by the light breeze that blew into the room. Right across from the fireplace. Large toy chests were set around the room, with the largest one that contained the very best of his treasures in front of his bed.
He expected the black-haired boy to immediately rush over to his toy-chest to see what laid inside. Almost every single kid had done that, acting as if they owed the place. He remembered one time some snot-nosed girl with strawberry blonde hair tore through his toy chests, going from one to the other, ignoring Draco's glares and screams for her to stop, tossing the toys aside in search of a doll. She was lucky that he didn't start learning magic yet, otherwise there'd be nothing left of her than bits of blonde hair and that puffy pink nightmare her mother dressed her in.
To his surprise, the boy didn't do that.
Draco turned over to find emerald-green eyes staring back at him, waiting. For what, he didn't know. Baffled, he nodded his head once. Harry took that as permission to settle himself onto the white Persian rug and play with the discarded train Draco tossed aside last night.
As Harry played quietly, Draco grabbed hold of his bed's railing and watched his new companion.
He definitely wasn't like the other kids. He was much quieter, more reserved. Even though he was smaller than Draco, there was a sense of bright intelligence that gleamed in those too-green eyes that spoke of maturity, which nearly made Draco feel inferior. However, not in a bad way. There was also shyness there, one which stirred something in him, making him want to draw the boy out of his shell.
He decided to do just that.
"The train is alright, but it's nothing compared to my other toys," Harry's head looked up from the train over to him. "Wanna see?"
He didn't jump at the offer, not right away. He fixed his host with an odd look that was the exact same as the one he pinned him with downstairs. As if he was being tested. After getting acquainted with him for a few minutes, Draco could see that his companion was one that acted with caution. It made him wonder how he was like with the other children from his neighborhood. He seemed like the type who'd slip away to a quiet corner to be alone with his book while the other children played.
It just means he's careful. Draco decided that it wasn't a bad thing. It was certainly different. Then again he was starting to see Harry was a different sort of boy. Draco offered the boy a small smile and gestured for him to come forward. Harry eyed him for a moment or two before complying, lifting himself off the ground and walking over to him.
Draco pressed his thumb against the trunk's smooth moonstone jewel, explaining that the toy-chest was a magical one and could only be unlocked by his signature, which would be his thumb-print. Once his thumb was scanned and accepted, the lock disappeared and the trunk popped open. He eagerly showed off what his chest held. Trains and figures that came to life with a touch of his hand, flying over their heads or marching around the room. Miniature figures as small as his pinky that grew the moment they were set down. The toy-brooms his father had gotten him over the years, each one top of the line and fast, though they were nowhere as incredible to the real thing.
"Mother wants to wait till I'm older to get a real broom," Draco grumbled, settling the sleek black one Father had gotten him last Christmas, "Most likely till I get my letter to Hogwarts."
Harry shook his head, his lips turning into a slight frown. Draco took that as a sign that he agreed with him. He was happy to see he wasn't the only one being denied the pleasure of riding an actual broom.
He saved the best toy for last. A recent purchase his mother had gotten for him from her visit in Romania: a long, five-foot silver and green snake made from the smoothest and most indestructible glass.
"He's my favorite."
"How come?" Harry asked, curious. There were the first two words the boy had said since they've been alone. Draco was pleased that he was able to make it happen.
"Watch," Harry looked at him questioningly, Draco smiled and set the snake to the ground, instructing Harry to stand next to him. When they have spread out a bit space between them and the toy, he looked over at the snake, rolling his tongue over the roof of his mouth. He remembered what Mother had told him about words, how one must use feel and command to unleash the power within them. "Change."
For a moment nothing happened. The snake stayed a statue. Harry looked at the toy, then over at Draco. Draco frowned, wondering what he did wrong.
Then both boys became aware of a vibration pulsing at their feet. They looked over. The jewels encrusted on snake's body began to shift, arranging themselves into certain spots here and there, while the still body became to move, twisting and curling, until the last stone was set. Once it was done, the snake went from a work of art to the actual creature.
"Wow," Harry said in a hushed-breath, his eyes wide. A smile curved those pink lips as the snake began to move. "Cool."
Not only had he gotten words from the boy, but a compliment. And a smile. Draco's pride grew at the sight of the smile, which transformed Harry's face from pleasing to-dare he say it-pretty. He smiled back, pleased. "Mother won't let me have pets. She thinks they're too messy, and she worries about the furniture. So she had this made for me. His name is Slyther. At the sound of my voice, he can change into an actual snake and stays that way for however long I want."
The serpent blinked his eyes several times, as if he needed time to adjust to his new condition, before looking up to his two spectators. His tongue peeked from his sealed lips, followed by a sharp hiss that warned of trouble if he was disturbed.
Intrigued, Harry kneeled before the snake and held out his hand. The creature's eyes narrowed, going from the boy's face to his hand. His pet must have seen something in Harry's eyes, something good, because, unlike previous times when people have beckoned the snake only to get bitten, he came to Harry and ran his tongue over his skin. Harry giggled and, waiting a moment or two, stroked the snake's head. In response, the snake closed his eyes as he lifted his head slightly higher to reach the boy's hand, looking content. If Slyther was a cat, Draco imagined he would be purring at this point.
I like this one, master, Slyther said to Draco, his flat tone surprisingly pleasant. Good hands.
Like Uncle Severus, Slyther was not an easy one to please when it came to people. Before Harry, the only person who was permitted to touch him without the fear of a bite would be Draco. Yet in a matter of seconds with a steady patience, Harry practically had Slyther eating out of his hands.
He does have good hands, Draco agreed. They were a good pair as far hands went. They were pale, almost as pale as marble. And looked soft. Draco's eyes swept over his face. He also had good eyes. And a good smile. And a good laugh. Draco liked the sound of his laughter. He wanted it to hear more of it. He wanted to be apart of that laughter.
Copying Slyther, he got down on his hands and knees. When he had Harry's attention, he pouted his lips, curled his tongue, and let it rip. The sound that came out him didn't sound at all like Slyther. It sounded like a snake, though by no means a strong one. It sounded pathetic; more than pathetic. But it seemed his effort didn't completely go to waste.
It got the reaction he wanted.
Harry laughed. He actually laughed. Much longer, too, than he had with Slyther. His eyes were shining like beautiful pieces of emerald as they looked at him, causing a smile to spread across his face and warmth to curl in his stomach. He decided to join in the fun, getting down on his hands and knees, hissing right back at Draco. His hissing was no better. If anything it was worse. Nevertheless it caused him to laugh just the same.
Never one to back down from a challenge, Draco playfully hissed back. Harry hissed in return. It wasn't long before the two found themselves engaged in a hissing battle, seeing who'd come out on top even though they both sounded awful, making each other laugh with their silly faces and sounds.
Draco couldn't remember having this much fun with the other kids. Then again, the other children weren't like Harry. None were quiet as him, as serious. None came close to his silliness. Draco had suspected there was something buried deep inside his closed-up silence, and he was happy that underneath the seriousness there was humor. He looked so silly, so odd in a nice kind of way, with his tongue stuck out all the way that Draco leaned in close to get a better look at him. Then closer and closer. He didn't realize how close until his tongue was touching Harry's tongue, his lips covering Harry's lips.
Harry's body went still. The laughter came to an abrupt halt.
Uh-oh. Fear began pricking Draco's stomach as he slowly pulled back, scared of what the other boy might do or say.
The two stared at each other for what was almost forever, testing each other in a way, seeing who would make the first move, until it was finally broken by laughter. It was Harry who started it; his stilled lips quivering a bit by the corner until a smile began to grow, spreading across his face. The smile then turned to a giggle. Then another and another until the boy was a mess of giggles, falling onto his back, laughter exploding from him. Draco found himself following Harry's example, his lips quivering uncontrollably, giggles climbing up his throat, until finally they were set off in a loud burst of laughter.
"I think we did the serpent salute." Harry giggled, his words setting their already-loud round of laughter to a higher volume.
"Silly git." Draco managed to say in between giggles.
Harry laughed harder, which made him laugh twice as hard. It wasn't until a little while later that the two were finally able to control themselves and catch their breath.
"You're so weird." Draco declared.
"So are you." Harry argued, reminding him with a pointed look which one started the 'salute'
Draco opened his mouth to protest, then paused, thinking it over. The boy did have a point. "Fine. We're both weird."
"And silly gits."
"That, too, but you are first," Harry giggled. "Git."
A hint of wickedness touched his smile, revealing another layer beneath the shy exterior. A mischievous one that intrigued Draco as much as the silly side had. "Prat." he hissed.
"Git." Draco repeated in a hiss, flicking his tongue. The boys fell into another mess of giggles. It took even longer for them to catch their breath. Each time one would try to control to control himself, all it would took was a glance into the other's face for him to lost it all over again, laughing twice as hard.
Ten minutes later, tummies aching from so much laughter, the boys lay on the floor. Draco took in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. He looked over at Harry. His eyes were closed, his face was flushed, and a tired smile turned his lips.
He liked this strange, quiet boy. He liked him a lot. He liked his wild, black hair that reminded him of a lion's mane. His unusual eyes that were the deepest, brightest shade of green he had ever seen. His smile, his laughter, his quiet presence and his silliness. He liked everything about him.
My Harry. Draco smiled. He liked the sound of that. His Harry. His boy.
Turning onto his side, he announced "You're my new best friend."
Harry tensed, his body completely still. He peered down up at Draco, surprise shining in his eyes along with fear.
That was not the reaction Draco had been expecting. He shouldn't be frightened. Draco's smile dimmed to a frown. "What is it? What's wrong?"
Harry looked up, then away. The action caused Draco to move closer to him.
"Tell me. What is it?"
Biting his lip, he confessed in a mumble "I never had a best friend before. Or an actual friend."
The confession stunned Draco. "Why not?"
He shrugged. He rested his head on his hands as he rolled onto his side, facing Draco. "The kids at school don't like me. They think I'm a freak."
A freak? The word stirred hot, flashing rage inside Draco that was bubbling like a potion ready to explode. The insult stung as if it were aimed at him.
"A freak?" he repeated. Harry nodded. "Why would they possibly think that?"
"My cousin Dudley. He doesn't like me. He told everyone at school that I'm a freak. They all believed him. Some stay away from me. Others help him tease me."
Draco was suddenly hit with a great urge to find this Dudley and his band of buffoons and slice them all into pieces like he had seen Uncle Severus done with a few rats he needed for his potions. "Muggles?"
Harry frowned in confusion.
"People who aren't like us. Who can't do magic."
That got a smile out of his boy.
"I never had a best friend before either. I didn't like any of the other kids. They're not as fun as you."
His smile widened.
"Besides you should consider it a privilege," Draco told him. "I don't make friends with just anybody."
His words did just as he hoped-they made him laugh.
"You're so silly." Harry said between giggles.
"No, no, no dear Harry. I think we already agreed that you were it first."
They burst into giggles once again.
This would be start of a beautiful friendship.
Hopefully this chapter was the start of a good story. The best way to assure me is to review. Please :) I wanna know what you guys think. How do you like the first chapter of the extension so far?