The Feeling of Wrongness
“Hogwarts?” A snobbish voice
“I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks.” A flash of green eyes
“Filthy little Mudblood” A stupid choice of words
“Saviour Potter!” A jealous brat
“I have to do this! I have to kill you… or else he will kill me” A scared child
“Harry Potter is dead!” A cold ring of laughter
“Guilty for all crimes against the Wizarding World” A deciding verdict
“Filthy Death Eater!” A mouthful of curses
“I need to go back” A desperate choice
~1~
Malfoy Manor, Northeast of Salisbury, Wiltshire, England - 31 July, 1991
Draco’s eyes shot open as the cord that tethered his mind to sleep was hastily cut short by some unknown force, causing him to be thrown from his dream. The spectre of his dream coming back to him in waves, the echoing of the unknown and known voices reverberating throughout his mind and body.
Not even a moment later was Draco hit with a wave of unpleasant nausea which made him jump up and scramble less than gracefully from his bed. He was able to hold off getting sick until he had made it to the loo, which he promptly threw himself over the toilet and vomited into it. It left a very unpleasant taste in his mouth, of course, as if he had swallowed a dozen of Bertie Bott’s vomit flavoured beans.
After waiting a few moments to allow for the nausea to disperse, Draco slowly stood from the toilet he was just hunched over, moving to the sink to wash out his mouth from the aftertaste and to brush his teeth. He wasn’t paying much attention to his reflection while scrubbing the taste from his mouth, in fact he hadn’t even glanced into it until after he spat out his toothpaste and cleaned up the sink.
He was wiping his mouth with a towel when he glanced into the mirror, not expecting anything less than the usual bedhead he had when he usually awoke. However, something caught his eye - which of course was the fact that his eyes were quickly fading from gold to his usual grey. Although it could no longer really be called greu, it was instead more of a silver with little specks of gold swirling around, making his eyes resemble some kind of stone or jewellery his Mother wore.
He lifted a hand to come close to his eye, slightly pulling the skin that surrounded it to check if it was real. “What-?” He was snapped out of his captivity with his eyes from the familiar pop of apparition that came from his room, signalling the arrival of a house elf.
He quickly left the bathroom, no doubt in his mind that Mother had sent the house elf to come and wake him. How late must it be for her to send an elf to come wake me?
“Missie is meant to be getting Little Master Draco at the request of Mistress Narcissa for breakfast” Missie said nervously, curtsying to Draco as he walked into the room. Her large eyes and nose becoming trained to the ground at the same time she curtsied, knowing better than to lay her eyes upon a wizard. It had never bothered Draco before, but for some strange reason there was a feeling of wrongness as he walked over to his wardrobe.
“Tell her that I shall be down soon and that I apologise for my tardiness.” Draco ordered as he opened the wardrobe to find a suitable outfit for breakfast. He paused as he caught sight of his eyes in the mirror, too captivated this time for the pop of apparition to break him from the spell.
Is this a curse? Does it have to do with the chocolates Blaise gave me? I knew I shouldn’t have eaten them! Draco cursed, already planning on how to get back at Blaise for this horrible prank, but then that feeling was back - the feeling of just wrongness. If Blaise had somehow been able to change his eye colour then what was that dream from this morning. Was that connected to his eyes changing from grey to gold to silver-gold? Doesn’t matter, Draco thought, snapping his attention away from the mirror and to his clothes, what matters is getting ready before Mother sees fit to come up here herself.
~2~
The door to the dining hall creaks slightly as Draco opens the door nervously, his hair styled and slicked back to perfection, him wearing his favourite robes that are slytherin green. Mother looks up at the sound, her eyes soft and a gracious smile on her lips “Nice of you to join us My Dragon.” Her voice rings with a twinge of disapproval at being late.
“I am sorry Mother, I will come down faster next time.” Draco says apologetically as he slides into his chair at the table, feeling embarrassed at being so early in the day. He didn’t mention the fact that father was nowhere to be seen at his usual spot at the head of the table, he was rarely home for breakfast anyways.
“It is ok, my Little Dragon, as long as it does not happen again.” Mother says kindly before sipping her tea and turning her attention back to her own food. Draco looks around the table, noticing that the chair at the head of the long table was empty. “We will be going to Diagon Alley today for your school supplies, around 9 o’clock sharp. Meet me in the entrance hall then.” Mother said, banishing away all manner of conversation after that.
Draco was, however, able to grab the Morning Prophet from Father’s seat, where it waited for him everyday in case he was to join them. He quickly turned to the usual page, the one that always excited him most in the morning paper. The daily story about Harry Potter, this one seemed to be especially long since today was his eleventh birthday today.
CHOSEN ONE’S JOURNEY TO HOGWARTS
By: Anita Hobbs | 31 July, 1991
As we all know, today, July 31st 1990, marks the long-awaited eleventh birthday of Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived. Today marks the day that he will officially be able to join the fast approaching 1990-1991 school year as a first year. Many speculate on what house he may join, whether it be Gryffindor like his parents or Ravenclaw like his grandmother Euphemia Potter, formally known as Euphemia Black before marrying Fleamont Potter, or perhaps even a Slytherin or Hufflepuff. See (page 7.) for a more in depth look at the Potter family tree with the houses.
Draco stopped reading there, before he could get swept up into the usual retelling of the story of the The-Boy-Who-Lived and his epic battle as a baby against The Dark Lord. He gleaned at the picture that accompanied the short article, a picture of the infamous and decrepit Potter Cottage Memorial.
He quickly took the page from the prophet before folding up the page and slipping it into his pocket for later before refolding the rest of the newspaper up and placing it back into Father’s spot at the table. With one last glance towards mother he quickly tucked into his plate of food that had been filled by the house elves.
~3~
“Dragon, you go to Madam Malkins and get your robes. Mother will go buy some of the essentials for you.” Mother shooed him off into the direction of the robe shop. He had visited that shop before, it was where Mother had him sized yearly for his robes. Draco had to fight against the crowds of parents and children, many of whom were also out shopping for Hogwarts supplies.
Finally he made it to the door of the shop and quickly went inside to escape the large crowds. The bell above the door rang as he stepped foot into the robe shop, “Hogwarts, Dear? Just go over to the mirrors and the measuring tape will begin to measure you.” Madam Malkin said, motioning for where Draco needed to go and stand. As he took his place at the mirror the measuring tape sprung to life and wasted no time setting to work with measuring Draco.
Just as a witch had come and begun to fit his robes, pinning and pulling the fabric into place, the bell above the door rang behind Draco, signalling someone's entrance into the store. Draco looked up and into the mirror so he could get a look at who had just come in, getting stabbed by a pin in the process. "Watch it!" The witch pinning his clothes scolded, but it was drowned out as Draco's focus went solely to the boy who had just walked in.
“Hogwarts? Got the lot here- another young man being fitted up just now, in fact.” The boy took the breath out of Draco. He was the one from his dream just that morning, he could recognize those oversized clothes, broken round spectacles, and bright green eyes anywhere. He had to suppress a gasp as the boy made eye contact with Draco, a vision hitting him like a train and that seemed to eclipse his mind's eye for what felt like eternity but was really only a a split second in reality.
~4~
“Hello, Hogwarts too?”
“Yes”
“My father’s next door buying my books and Mother’s up the street looking at wands. Then I’m going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don’t see why first year’s can’t have their own. I think I’ll bully father into getting me one and I’ll smuggle it in somehow. Have you gotten your own broom?”
“No”
“Play Quidditch at all?”
“No”
“I do- Father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my House, and I must say, I agree. Know what House you’ll be in yet?”
“No”
“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been- imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I would leave, wouldn’t you?”
“Mmm”
“I say, look at that man!”
“That’s Hagrid, he works at Hogwarts.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of him. He’s some sort of servant, isn’t he?”
“He’s the gamekeeper.”
“Yes, exactly. I heard he’s a sort of strange- lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed.”
“I think he’s brilliant.”
“Do you? Why is he with you? Where are your parents?”
“They’re dead.”
“Oh, sorry. But they were our kind, weren’t they?”
“They were a witch and wizard, if that’s what you mean.”
“I don’t think they should let the other sort in, do you? They’re just not the same, they’ve never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get their letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What’s your surname, anyway?”
~5~
He came back to himself easily enough, only stumbling a little and getting poked by the needle again, earning him another scolding from the witch who was fitting him. The boy from his dream and the recent vision walks over, coming to stand right next to him and begins to be sized by the magical measuring tape. He searches his brain for something to say other than what he said in that vision, somehow he knows that those words aren’t the right thing to say as another wave of a feeling of wrongness rushed over him. “Hi,” Draco said distantly, his voice a little airy, “H- Hogwarts?”
The boy, whose skin was a tanned olive colour, and had dark ebony hair sticking up and falling into his face, looked at Draco curiously. “Yes.” His voice was squeaky, and his posture was atrocious with his shoulders coming in as if it could make the boy even smaller than he already was. He had vibrant green eyes.
"Me too," Draco quickly supplied, "it's my first year." His heart felt as though it would burst from the nerves that chained it. What in Merlin's name- Draco cut off that line of thought quickly and before he knew it his mouth was chattering away.
"My parents are quite excited for me to attend, although my father wanted me to attend Durmstrang. Mother adamantly refused to send me so far from home and neither wanted to send me to Beauxbatons. Hogwarts was really the only choice they could agree on." No matter how hard he tried, nothing seemed to be able to stop him from talking, his nerves getting the best of him and making him lose his composure.
"Durmstrang? Beauxbatons? What are those?" The boy asked curiously, his bright eyes catching Draco's in the mirror. This only seemed to double Draco's nerves, He must be a mudblood then if he doesn't know about other Wizarding schools.
Instead of asking the boy if he was a mudblood or not, however, as he got a wave of the feeling at just the thought, he decided to answer the boy's question. "They are other Wizarding schools. Durmstrang is in the Netherlands and Beauxbatons is in France." Draco explains carefully, That vision had to have some kind of reason for appearing, same with that feeling.
"Other Wizarding schools? Hogwarts isn't the only one?" The boy asked again, though this time he looked rather stupid, hadn't Draco just said that they were wizarding schools? Patience Draco told himself, getting the feeling he needed this conversation to go well.
"Hogwarts is just one of many wizarding schools, it is the most popular in Britain and is definitely the largest. However most countries have their own schools, like America has Ilvermorny. Sometimes, though, there are people outside of the country who can voluntarily attend that school." Draco explains carefully, trying to keep his tone kind and gentle. Almost as if his tone was being used to calm a frightened wild animal.
"Can you tell me more about Hogwarts?" The boy's eyes stared into Draco's through the mirror, they were wide and were as bright as emeralds. Draco couldn't help but agree to tell the boy all he knew when those eyes were focused solely onto him.
~6~
His voice was beginning to grow tired by the time he was finished explaining the basic knowledge of what he knew about Hogwarts. "I hope it helps you." Was what Draco ended his long and never ending explanation with, which gave way to a smile crossing the boy's face.
"Thanks, this is gonna be a huge help when term starts." The boy says with that infectious smile. Draco tried to fight against the urge to smile back, ‘To smile is to show weakness' as Father always says.
Tap, Tap, Tap!
Quick and insistent tapping on the glass of the window was what drew Draco's attention finally away from the boy with green eyes. They flitted away from him and to the pale blue eyes of his mother, which were staring at him with great deal of impatience. The tapping, however, also caught the boy's attention to the glass and away from Draco.
"Wow," the boy mumbled in awe, "who is she?" The boy asked, turning his attention back to Draco quickly, as if he had all the answers, making a wave of smug crash over him.
“My Mother,” Draco responds with, as the witch motions him to step out the way, saying that he was done. “It seems she is done with her shopping and is here to come get me.” With great hesitation he steps away from the boy and began to move towards the door of the shop.
“Wait!” Which prompts Draco to look back at the boy quickly, “I never got your name!” The boy had turned around to face Draco, making the seamstress who was pinning his robes look annoyed.
Tap, Tap, Tap!
“A rush of panic filled Draco as the tapping seemed to fill his mind, it felt like a grindylow snapping at his feet to hurry up.
“Draco, Draco Malfoy.” Draco quickly said before rushing out the door to and to his more.
~7~
Draco rushed over to his mother, who was waiting for him with curious and expectant eyes, “Who were you talking to in there Dragon?” As she says that Draco looks into the shop window and makes eye contact with Harry, who was staring at Draco and his mother with a kind smile.
“A friend, I think.” Draco responded with, while glancing back into the window and making eye contact with the boy with green eyes.
"That's great, sweetheart, but we should hurry to the wand shop before the rush begins." Mother takes his hand into hers and begins to pull him toward a shop not too far away. He follows easily and willingly enough, but is still staring at the window of Madam Malkin's, wondering if he had done the right thing by not following the visions version of events.
It wasn't until they were standing in front of the wand shop that Draco snapped out of his trance. He focused his attention at the store in front of him, adamantly ignoring the nagging feeling at the back of his mind. The wand shop was nothing too fancy, it had large shop windows that displayed a variety of wands that each had a nameplate and description attached to it. The shop itself was just a one story building that was painted a navy blue colour with small designs of gold framing the windows.
"Mother? What is this place?" Draco asked, this definitely was not the shop he expected to buy his wand from, wasn't it tradition to buy a wand from Olivanders?
"It's a wand shop that has begun to grow in popularity. I thought we could try looking for a wand here before trying to fight through other children in line at Oliveranders. I heard from Vincent’s mother that they are quite traditional” Mother explains as she held open the door and motioned for Draco to go through before her, which he did with great hesitation.
"Welcome to Selwyn’s Wand Menagerie, helping produce and give quality wands since 1950. How can I help you today?" A boring witch droned on, as if she was simply reciting something from a script. Her blue employee uniform robes were buttoned up with her mousey brown hair slicked back with not a single stray hair out of place and her brown eyes hidden behind small circular glasses..
"My son is in need of a wand before he heads off to Hogwarts in about a month. We were hoping to find something here." Mother explained, as she allowed the door to swing closed behind her and as she rested her hand on Draco's shoulder, squeezing it ever so slightly, as if warning Draco to not put a toe out of line.
"Off to Hogwarts, then?” The woman asked tightly, her eyes looking at the pair of Malfoy’s up and down. The question almost didn’t feel directed towards Draco, making him not immediately respond to the woman’s question.
Mother lightly pushed Draco forward when it was obvious he wasn't going to by himself and took a step back so that he would have to confront the woman all alone. "Yes, yes I am." Draco responded quickly, drawing himself up as a way of trying to make himself look taller and older than he actually was.
"Wand hand, please.” The woman instructed curtly as she pulled a measuring tape out from behind the desk she stood at. Draco offered his left arm up for the witch to measure properly, slightly nervous at the prospect as he knew his parents both had wands that were at least 10 inches long.
As the woman spelled the tape to spring to life, much like it did at Madam Malkins, Draco stared at it and was almost put into a trance at such magic.
Father will be disappointed if it is anything less than Mother’s Draco thought to himself, trying not to dwell on the slight terror that rose as Draco though of his father disapproving.
“About 11” then.” The woman states, inadvertently quelling Draco’s fear and causing him to relax ever so slightly. The tape retracted instantly, almost hitting his skin in its rush back into a perfect roll. “I will be back with a few choices then.” The woman again states with her bland tone to his mother, ignoring Draco once again.
It was several minutes before she came back with three boxes of fresh wands, one box being a pale blue, another was a ruby red, an awful colour really, did this lady think he was a Gryffindor? And finally the last one was a Slytherin green, much more respectable to his Slytherin nature. "I found three different wands that may possibly fit, all with different cores and wand types." The woman said.
Obviously they are all different, it would be stupid if they were all the same. Draco thought a bit rudely as she opened the red Gryffindor box.
The wand that emerged from the red box was a light wood, almost as if it was made of ivory, and it looked decently long. "This wand is Aspen wood, has a Phoenix feather core, ten inches long, and is reasonably flexible." The woman explained to Mother before carefully handing the wand to Draco. He waved it carefully, hoping that he wouldn't create an explosion of some kind. Nothing happened, however, and the woman quickly took it back from him and placed it back into its box.
Next she took the Slytherin green box and opened it, pulling out a dark black wood that seemed to have vines carved into the wood. "This wand is Ebony wood, unicorn hair core, eleven inches long, and is also reasonably flexible." The woman carefully handed this wand to Draco, watching with a critical glint in her eye that wasn't there before. Once again nothing happened as he waved the wand gracefully. The woman snatched back the wand and set it back into the green box carefully.
Finally she opened the pale powder blue box and pulled out a more reddish-pale coloured wand. Up the side seemed to be runed engravings and this one had a more distinct handle than the other two wands. "This wand is Cedar wood, Dragon Heartstring core, eleven inches long, and is rigid." This time, when the woman turned the wand around to hand it to Draco handle first, he felt a pull. Time seemed to slow as he reached towards the wand, the feeling of his body seemingly moving on its own instinctively. As soon as his hand touched the handle a shock of sparks seemed to race up his arm from the point of contact.
His hand slid to fit perfectly against the handle of the wand, more sparks travelling up his arm. This time he didn't feel the need to swish the wand, it felt unnecessary when he could feel the transfer of magic between him and the wand. "This is it, this is my wand." Draco said while still being completely distracted and entranced with the feeling of his magic.
"Fascinating, that magical reaction is unusually strong." The woman commented, almost as if she did have a bit of personality behind her small circle glasses, as she grabbed the two other discarded wands and put them back into their own spots on the shelves. Draco didn't really hear her, though, it was just a buzz of noise that didn't mean anything compared to the singing of magic through his veins.
He could recognize that mother and the woman were still speaking, only catching a few key words about how to care for his new wand but was far too distracted to care. Next thing he knew his arms were full with a wand caring kit, an adjustable forearm wand holster, and a wand case, before he was being swept out of the shop.
~8~
"Books next, Dragon." Mother informed him as she steered him by the shoulders towards Flourish and Blotts that was down four shops. They pass dozens of groups of women, few of whom greet Narcissa as she walks past while others quickly began to whisper to each other at her passing. 'When did that begin?' Draco thought curiously, he never thought anyone would dare to gossip about Mother as she was far too terrifying.
When they arrived at the shop Mother held the door open once again for Draco. “Thank you, Mother.” He says as he steps inside and looks around at the bustling shop.
“Run along and look for any extra books you’ll want My little Dragon, Mother will go get the books you need for school.” With that dismissal she takes the wand supplies from his arms and shoos him off.
Draco quickly moves up the staircase in an attempt to get away from the hustle and bustle of the busy shop, getting elbowed in the ribs in the process. However he isn’t looking where he is going and bumps into a girl with wild black hair and skin as dark as milk chocolate.
~9~
“At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in, they got in on pure talent.”
“No one asked for your opinion, you Filthy Little Mudblood .”
~10~
Draco proceeds to spit out the mouthful of mangey hair he gets in his mouth, stumbling back from not only knocking into someone but from hearing the echo of his own voice saying a word he was never allowed to say out loud. “Ah! Watch where you are going!” The girl says a bit snobbily, turning to Draco in a huff.
“Last I checked you were the one standing in the middle of the aisle!” He snaps back with. The nerve of this girl! Doesn’t she know who I am!
The girl puffs out her cheeks a little before deflating a bit, “I guess I am at fault a bit, I shouldn’t have stood in the middle of the aisle.” She lamented but quickly her haughtiness came back in full, "But you should've been watching where you were going!" The girl crossed her arms angrily, exuding an air of 'I think I'm better than you' which just wouldn't do!
"Only because it's so packed in here and the fact that you were standing in the middle of the aisle!" Draco hissed back quickly, no way would he let some stranger believe they were better than him! He was the heir to the Ancient and Noble house of Malfoy!
The girl seemed to be embarrassed at being scolded but she didn't seem to back down. "You don't have to be so rude!" She complained horribly, her buck teeth becoming more and more prominent. S he was rude first! How dare she imply I am anything but a gentleman!
Draco huffed, crossing his own arms in response. "I don't have time for this!" Draco stormed past her, knocking his shoulder roughly against hers as he went to the completely opposite side of the second floor. It wasn't until he was standing in front of the book case did he realize how stupid and childish he was acting. He allowed some mudblood to get to him in such a way, Father would be disappointed.
~11~
Draco walks back down the stairs to go find Mother, arms full of different books on flying and more than a few on divination and seeing visions. He walked into the crowd of bustling parents and children. He finds her by the potion section of the book store, a place he was familiar with as he often would visit here with Uncle Sev. “Mother? I found some books I want, do you have my school books?” Draco asks, Maybe if we hurry along with school shopping I could convince her to go look at brooms for next year.
“Yes, my little dragon, I have your school books. Let us go check out and then we can move on to the potions shop. Maybe if you are good we could go look at getting you your own owl.” Mother breezes past, her heeled boots making a barely audible click against the wood floor.
After about four hours they were finally done with their shopping for the day and returned home to the Manor. “Missie,” Mother called distantly to the cold air. Missie appeared with a pop, standing straight in her oversized dress. “Yes, Mistress Malfoy? What could Missies do for Mistress?” Missie dipped into a neat curtsey, at Mother’s beck and call. “Take Draco’s school supplies up to his room and then put on a spot of tea, I will be in the garden.” Mother ordered, her usual warmth slowly leaving as her strict voice began to overshadow her motherly warmth. “Yes Mistress.” Missie said before taking all of the school supplies with her as she snapped her fingers. “Little Dragon, go on and play in your room, Mother is having some friends over okay?” Mother didn’t wait for an answer as she once again breezed past, this time her heeled boots seemed to click far louder than before.
~12~
Draco lay in bed, looking at the painted ceiling above him, it was of a mother dragon and a baby dragon. It always seemed to have a life of its own, but Draco knew it was only enchanted to look that way much like the paintings of his ancestors. Mother had always told him that she had the ceiling commissioned when he was born, seemingly always thinking of him as her baby dragon to her mother dragon.
The ceiling was so much like his own, a seemingly doting mother, an almost absent father, and a son that was under their beck and call. Perfectly crafted on the outside but Draco knew that it wasn’t, not really, as Mother always pointed out the same flaws every time. The baby dragon was far too energised for Mother’s liking, “Not like my own Dragon, you always listen to me” as Mother always said.
Draco shook his head from the ceiling, he couldn’t distract himself from what was going on inside him, he needed to work on it or else it could hurt the family. Why am I having these visions? Are they even visions? Draco asked himself, a small part of himself curling in on itself in fear. What if I’m going insane? A spike of terror appeared inside him at the thought, would they send him to St. Mungos? Would they put him in Azkaban with Aunt Bellatrix? Or would they disown him?
What should I do? Draco asked himself fearfully as he felt the echo of the vision he had with the boy in the robes shop come back to him. What did it mean? Why did I not want it to happen? It’s not like I did anything bad. Draco reasoned with himself but felt another pulse of wrongness happen under his skin, much like the one earlier. It felt as though miniature snakes were crawling under his skin, nipping with poisonous fangs at his nerves.
Hopefully these books will have something useful. Draco thought before finally grabbing a book he had gotten earlier that day, catching a glance at the title but not the author. “The Fog of the Inner Eye” huh? This better help