A Dragon in Diagon
Chapter 1: A Dragon in Diagon
A young woman stood out on the balcony, it was a warm June night, and her long blonde locks danced in the warm summer breeze. She pulled her dressing robe closer and sighed contentedly. A small whimper broke the quiet and her lip twisted up in a tired smile.
“Mummy, story?” A small voice pleaded, tugging on her nightgown from behind.
“Of course, my love,” she scooped the little boy into her arms and gracefully settled them into a nearby wingback chair. “What shall we have tonight, then?”
The boy's smile was barely contained on his face as he snuggled into his mother’s lap.
“Dragons!” he replied gleefully, it was his favorite after all.
The mother chuckled quietly and began the nightly tale…
“There once was a dragon, fearsome and strong. He could conquer any battle and protect his home and treasure from any danger. He breathed fire and flew high into the Heavens. He lived among the snakes, and they were his family.
The dragon was often misunderstood by the commoners—attacked for his riches and jewels. But he stood strong, protecting his home and those he loved.
One day, the dragon went on a journey to hunt for a treasure so great, and so powerful, he would never need to defend his home again. His trek would take him away for some time, but his family wanted him to go and be brave.
The dragon followed the first path, through twists and turns—often stumbling along the way. When he could go no more, he came across a large serpent with two heads. The dragon asked for directions to help him find the treasure.
One serpent head spoke in riddles and the other stayed silent, staring at the dragon. ‘A monster will rise from the depths and take all the light, then you will find seven clues to lead you to your treasure’
Then, the second head said ‘Follow the monster when he rises, he will be your Master.’
The dragon did not understand either of the messages, and continued on his journey blindly. He walked, he flew, and he walked, and he flew. When he could go no more, he came across a little lion.
She was powerful, and strong, and so brave. The lion sat with the dragon for a while, but was not very trusting. She never took her eyes off of him, and while they made good conversation, they often fought.
The dragon asked her to be his companion on his journey. At first she agreed, but as they came to an open field, where the rest of her pride was, she slipped away and did not return.
Saddened by loneliness, the dragon continued his hunt for the treasure. He found various magical and alluring objects that glittered and caught his eye—a tiara, a golden chalice, an obsidian ring, a gold and emerald locket, a magical book of secrets…but still not the treasure he was searching for.
The dragon travelled on, meeting a larger serpent. She slithered around him and followed him on his journey—his only company, but not taking away the loneliness either.
Finally, arriving at the seashore, the dragon sighed. He was unsure of where to go from here. It was nearing the end of the day and he and the serpent decided to rest.
As night fell, a rumbling came from the sea. A gargantuan monster rose up from the depths and commanded all the creatures around it, even the serpent and the dragon.
The dragon did not want to bow to the monster, but was scared to disobey—he was so powerful and terrifying. Just as the dragon was about to submit, his lion friend appeared beside him.
Together, they defied and destroyed the monster just as the morning sun rose into the sky. As the dragon looked at the destruction all around them, the treasures he had collected on his journey were destroyed and his serpent companion was gone.
The dragon did not mourn the loss of them, however. He was glad to have his lion friend by his side. She accompanied him through his entire journey home, and when she reached his lair full of treasure and snakes, she did not leave.
The lion stayed with the dragon and his family for a long time. Finally, he realized that she, the lion, was the great and powerful treasure. She was worth more than all of his gold and would help him to protect his family.”
The young blonde boy snored softly in his mother’s arms, and she held him close nuzzling his cheek. She laid him back in his bed and tucked his blanket around him as he dreamed of dragons, snakes, and lions.
…
“Draco, dear,”
“Yes, mother?” A young boy of eleven, with white-blonde hair looked up from his glossy new copy of Hogwarts: A History .
“I’ll be across the street, dear, I just saw Mrs. Parkinson go into Madam Malkins with Pansy, for her Hogwarts robes. I’ll get yours ordered and begin the Gringotts transfer while you and your father finish packing up your new books. I expect you to join me for your measurements in no less than ten minutes, then we’ll head to Olivander’s, yes?”
Narcissa Malfoy asked her son without really even looking at him. Her eyes glued through the shop’s glass windows across the Alley at a pair of witches looking at a rack of black robes.
“Yes, mother. Ten minutes,” Draco replied with equal lack of interest. Closing the textbook, he pulled out the rolled parchment with his school supply list and looked it over for the hundredth time.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
UNIFORM
First-year students will require:
- Three sets of plain work robes (black)
- One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
- One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
- One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils’ clothes should carry name tags
COURSE BOOKS
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginners’ Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set of glass or crystal phials
1 telescope set
1 brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS
Draco smirked at the last line. No broom? He and his father had had a few choice words to say about that.
The young boy looked up when he heard the bell ring as the shop door opened and saw a head of bushy brown hair spring through it in a blur.
She was probably close to his age and by her level of enthusiasm, she was most likely going to Hogwarts this year as well. She was accompanied by an older witch with dark hair that was braided and wrapped into a bun at the nape of her neck. The older woman wore a tired but proud expression as she watched the young girl greedily drag her fingers across countless spines in every section. The woman’s eyes were soft with a glint of excitement as well. She looked familiar, but Draco couldn’t quite place her.
That girl though, her hair could take up the whole aisle if it wanted to, and her arms were already loaded with tomes, including his favorite and current selection he noticed. Of course, the first classmate he comes across (well, first new classmate at least) ends up being a total swot, Draco chuckled to himself as he began to pack up his purchases and head to the front.
Flourish & Blotts had sucked him in, yet again, but maybe it wasn’t so bad. He had some hope that not everyone at Hogwarts would be a total Slytherin or a complete Gryffindor. Maybe there would be another Ravenclaw mind he could pick and even befriend. Maybe not her mind…unless she learned to tame that beast she called hair.
As he was walking out of the aisle, Draco Malfoy was pondering how scattered her brain could be if her hair was that out of control when she exited her own aisle and they slammed into each other. Both children collapsed to the floor as large volumes of the latest Hogwarts reading list tumbled around them with various thuds.
All eyes turned and the shop went silent, but not from the commotion. A tall man with pale pointed features, a sharp chin, piercing blue eyes, and long pale blonde hair, Lucius Malfoy, appeared at the front of the shop. Draco saw his father and immediately turned and sneered at the brunette’s carelessness, though she didn’t seem to notice as she was lost in deep thoughts. How odd.
Thankfully, the elder blonde seemed to not take notice of Draco and the girl, so the boy dropped his sneer to a blank stare.
Draco had never met another person, let alone someone his own age who had even a semi-competent reading comprehension. Greg and Vincent were very nearly cavemen, and unless it was Witch Weekly , Pansy couldn’t be bothered to read anything.
The young Malfoy quickly gathered his books once more, and stood in front of the young witch, ever the aristocrat with hand extended, waiting. If Lucius was watching, he would certainly report back to Narcissa if Draco was anything less than impeccable in his manners to a young lady.
However, the girl paid him no attention. She had her lower lip worried between her teeth so deep in thought she didn’t even realize the blunder had involved another person. She might’ve smacked into a brick wall for all she knew. The girl scrambled, picking up her things and hurried out of the shop just as the elder witch she had entered with reappeared outside and they were lost in the crowd.
Still shocked at the girl’s lack of decency and awareness, the boy stood and stacked his books on the counter. His father gave him a curt nod as he began the Gringotts transfer with the shopkeeper. Draco strolled out of Flourish & Blotts, weaving in and out of the crowd toward his destination.
…
Narcissa was just finishing up with the order when Draco entered Madam Malkins Robes for all Occasions . There had been a number of young children with their parents filtering in and out of the shop every few minutes, but Mrs. Malfoy, ever the socialite, had sought to make conversation with Mrs. Posy Parkinson, Pansy’s mother.
Draco and Pansy had been playmates nearly since birth, as their families were of similar status, although nothing compared to the Malfoy’s and Black’s family wealth, the Parkinson’s loved to pretend they did. Posy always copying and chasing after Narcissa in every way.
Posy and Narcissa were perched at the front of the till and Narcissa waved Draco over to the far corner. He sauntered to the back where he was instructed by a young witch to stand on one of the small footstools as she draped the first set of chosen robes over him. Madam Malkin herself walked over to Draco and held up the robes his mother had chosen, to show him and explain how the measurements would be taken.
Draco simply nodded, he’d had this done for many of the Malfoy Manor parties and charity events. He was more concerned that the owner of the most fashionable robes shop in Diagon Alley was wearing mauve. The squat witch smiled at his approval of his robes and hurried off to greet the next customer as they entered.
The younger witch leant over and began to pin up the end of the robes and tack them in place with her wand. About halfway around the hem, another boy, of about eleven, came to stand on the other footstool next to Draco.
Draco looked up into the large mirror seemingly to appraise his own robes, but took note of the other boy out of the corner of his eye. Dark, messy hair, slightly olive toned skin. Definitely a new face and clearly a new Hogwarts student.
Finally! An opportunity for a new friend. Draco thought to himself.
“Hello. Hogwarts, too?”
“Yes,” said the dark haired boy.
“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 years can’t have their own. I think I’ll bully father into getting me one and I’ll smuggle it in somehow.” Draco whispered somewhat conspiratorially.
He was excited at the thought of plotting and breaking a few little school rules. Maybe this would be his new best friend. They could get into all kinds of trouble together.
“Have you got your own broom?”
“No,” the boy replied simply.
“Play Quidditch at all?”
“No,” the boy replied looking confused.
What boy doesn’t play Quidditch? …Well he did say he didn’t have his own broom, but honestly . He doesn’t even seem the least bit interested in the topic. Perhaps he’s just embarrassed that he doesn’t have his own broom.
“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,” the other boy said, seeming more uncomfortable by the minute.
What is this boy’s problem? Does he not know in polite conversation one needs to at least attempt to contribute to it?
“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, though I’m somewhat hoping for Ravenclaw, but all our family have been in Slytherin — imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”
Draco paused trying to read the other boy’s reaction in the mirror. Was he the son of Hufflepuffs? A Gryffindor maybe?
“Mmm,” the dark haired boy answered quietly.
Draco knew he was losing this other boy’s interest. Great. Another failed attempt at making his own friends, and school hasn’t even started yet.
“I say, look at that man!” Draco said suddenly, gaping toward the front window.
A giant of a man with black frizzy hair and a matching beard was standing there, grinning at the other boy and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn’t come in.
“That’s Hagrid,” the boy said, looking pleased to know something Draco didn’t. “He works at Hogwarts.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of him,” Draco quickly tried to think of where he’d heard that name. “He’s a sort of servant, isn’t he?” He asked taking a guess based on the half-giant’s apparel and scraggly appearance.
“He’s the gamekeeper,” said the dark haired boy, with a look of disdain on his face.
Draco tried desperately to read the situation and could only think to reply with things he’d heard his father say about the overgrown man.
“Yes, exactly. I heard he’s a sort of savage — 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,” he said coldly.
Embarrassment flooded Draco’s cheeks.
Dammit. Mother was right, I need to work on thinking before I speak. Obviously that oversized man out there is a friend of his. And now I’ve gone and insulted him. Well done, Draco, hurling more insults again.
But Draco’s hot temper couldn’t be stifled with rational thinking just now. After all, he was only eleven.
“Do you?” Draco put on his best sneer to hide the red in his cheeks. “Why is he with you? Where are your parents?”
“They’re dead,” the boy said shortly.
The color drained from Draco’s face. That was not how he had expected this to go at all. Every turn the conversation took had gotten progressively worse. What do I say to that?
“Oh, sorry,” Draco croaked trying to sound sincere, but it came out all wrong. “But they were our kind, weren’t they?”
“They were a witch and wizard, if that’s what you mean.”
Draco spotted the garment bags the other boys' robes had come out of—Mauricio Carneiro. Very high end indeed. He took this as a sign that the boy’s family had similar social standing, and therefore, beliefs as his own father.
“I really 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 the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What’s your surname, anyway?”
But before the other boy could answer, Madam Malkin said, “That’s you done, my dear,” and the dark haired boy hopped down from the footstool.
“Well, I’ll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose,” Draco drawled, sending a cool half-smirk half-smile to the other boy. Draco smoothed his hair back, took one last glance in the mirror and made his way to Ollivander’s.
…
Draco completed the rest of the shopping trip without incident. He was practically vibrating with excitement at how his first wand felt in his hands. Hawthorne and unicorn hair, ten inches. Perfect for the Pureblood Prince.
By midday, however, Lucius had grown tired of his son’s increasing excitement.
“Malfoys do not show this level of public display, Draco. You give too much away wearing your emotions like this,” Lucius spat.
Draco could barely reign himself in a few times, but to appease his father’s temper, he kept his head down. He barely avoided being smacked by his fathers silver-serpent-handled cane a few times. He did, however, manage to earn a sweet smile from his mother as he pulled her seat out for her at lunch at her favorite Bistro.
Once they returned to Malfoy Manor, Draco was excused to his room to organize his new belongings. He slowly climbed the grand marble stairs, thinking about everything he said to that other boy. Before he reached the top step he paused, deep in thought about his word choice.
Was it the mention of his parents? Perhaps they recently died and that’s why he wasn’t very talkative…
“Lucius, you’ll never guess what I heard from Posy Parkinson this afternoon!” Narcissa excitedly whispered.
“Oh? And what could that possibly be, darling?” Lucius drawled feigning interest. Narcissa loved to share her socialite gossip, but rarely did it pertain to Lucius or Draco. Even so, they tried to please her by appearing to listen.
“Someone quite famous will be in Draco’s class at Hogwarts this year…can you guess who that might be?”
“I’m sure I don’t know, so out with it then,” Lucius pandered.
“Harry Potter.”
The glass whiskey tumbler Lucius had held in his hand slipped, smashing against the Venetian marble floors in the drawing room below. Draco quietly gasped as he was brought out of his contemplation, but he dared not move as the silence in the Manor was deafening.
A few moments later, Lucius appeared at the bottom of the steps, storming up them toward his son at an alarming rate. Draco’s heart slammed against his chest. He knew the punishment for eavesdropping, but he really hadn’t meant to do it. That’s what he gets for dawdling, or at least that’s what mother will say.
“Draco! Were you listening to a private conversation between your mother and I?” Lucius had flames in his eyes.
“N-n-n..”
“Don’t. Lie. To. Me.” The silver fangs on the head of Lucius’s cane carved into the back of Draco’s hand still holding onto the bannister like a lifeline.
“Please! Father, I didn’t mean to listen in, I was just on my way up to my room!”
Lucius leaned in so that Draco could feel the heat of his father’s breath on his cheek. He squeezed his eyes shut in hopes it would help take the brunt of whatever anger his father let loose on him this time.
“How many times have I told you Draco,” Lucius slithered, “make yourself known, or leave the vicinity.” Lucius gripped the back of Draco’s head for emphasis. “As it is, the information concerns you.”
Draco’s eyes popped open, wide with shock. Lucius ignored him and continued without pause.
“It seems you have a school assignment already. You will befriend Harry Potter and keep him close.”
“Yes, father, but why?” Of course Draco knew who Harry Potter was, but why he needed to be friends with him was beyond his comprehension.
“Let’s just say I have a hunch. Now you are dismissed. Your mother and I will be leaving for the Villa in Paris in the morning and we will be gone for a few weeks. Use that time wisely to prepare for your studies.”
And with that, Lucius released him and retreated back down the stairs. The elder Malfoy paused to kiss his wife’s cheek and marched through the Floo.
Draco stood for a moment, frozen in place as two small drops of crimson blood dripped down his hand. He quickly realized himself and pulled out his silk monogrammed handkerchief to prevent the blood from dripping on the floor as he quietly sank onto the marble steps, shaking with soft sobs.
His mother hurried around the corner, and gathered him in her arms. She held him tightly to her, just as she always did, and gently rocked him murmuring apologies under her breath.