Charmed

He remembers walking down the stairs of the Malfoy Manor in the mornings, the air would be chilly and the rooms would be grey.  The pavements outside would be covered in a blanket of snow - all the trees would be dead, their corpses standing desolate in his garden.

He remembers walking to the living room, hoping to find his parents sitting together with gifts in their arms.  Instead, he always finds the room empty; no parents, no gifts, no decoration, no celebration.  

But one particular year, he remembers watching his father walk in through the front door, discarding his coat and gloves, and walking toward him with a bag in his hand.  

His mother was knitting on the sofa next to him, his foot would be tapping, leg bouncing as he waits for the big reveal of what is in his father's hand. 

"Draco, you are now a man-" (Draco remembers being 10) "and I saw this and thought it would be perfect for you, so in the spirit of generosity, I am gifting you this."  

Draco felt his heart pounding with excitement, he loved presents.  

Lucius handed him the bag, it felt weightless in Draco's small hands.  He squeezed his eyes shut as he reached in through the mouth, silently praying that it was the new potions kit and guide he had spotted in Diagon Alley last month.  He felt the wrapping paper, it seemed a bit too soft for a boxed potions kit, but he was still hopeful.

His parents stared at him expectantly, he unwrapped the present with impatient fingers scrambling around to rip the paper up.

He felt his heart drop a little bit in his chest, the weight of the thoughtless, extremely expensive gift dragging down his mood.  

It was to be expected, he knew his father didn't really pay attention to what he really wanted.  This gift was a reflection of that.  An afterthought.  Much like what Draco felt he was.

His mother must've insisted that Lucius buy him something, so he went and bought Draco a pair of emerald encrusted cuff links with a top hat and a bedazzled walking stick.  The jewels winked tauntingly at him, he didn't know whether to laugh or to cry.  

His mother was also stunned into shock, blinking owlishly at the absurd gift.  

Lucius wore a proud smile, he was clearly pleased, happy with himself.  Draco lifted the hat and placed it on his head, only for it to drop and cover his face entirely.  At least this way his disappointment wasn't visible. 

"He'll grow into it," Lucius commented, his voice muffled by the thick, rich fabric enclosing Draco from the top of his head all the way to the base of his shoulders. 

"Yes, perhaps when he is 80," Narcissa replied. 

-

Birthdays at Hogwarts were considerably better, at least his friends were around.  

The gifts were more thoughtful, sometimes so thoughtful that he felt embarrassed by the emotions that overwhelmed him.  

He remembers Blaise once gifting him a fern (because flowers were too intimate) that was charmed to have the mild calming effects of a sleeping potion when Draco placed it by his bedside.  Blaise remembered Draco mentioning his issues with sleep in passing, Lucius didn't even remember Draco's birthday that year.

Perhaps it was a fault, constantly comparing the men in his life to his father.  It often led him to expect the worst, to be harsh and snarky as a coping mechanism.  

And he did see a lot of his father around the Slytherin common room.  Whether it was Goyle's greediness or Blaise's vanity, or Flint's sharp, ugly tongue.  He felt like he couldn't fully escape the metaphorical walls his father made him pull up, it was a miracle that he managed to stay friends with these people.  

Then, he got to know Harry Potter.  Well, he didn't get to know him, more like observed him from afar.  Where he wasn't visible.  Often with an advanced charm that made his footsteps silent and undetectable.  

No, Draco wasn't a stalker.  

No way.

He just wanted to observe Potter, watch him slip up.

Watch his "Lucius" come out, as Draco termed it in his head.

Alas, it never happened.  Potter and him would argue and bicker constantly, six years of taunting remarks and stupidly immature hexes (one of which resulted in Draco turning into a Ferret) and yet, not one time, has Draco ever seen Potter's "Lucius" come out.  

Now, it was like a personal mission.  Every time he saw Potter he felt the pressing need to push his buttons, get him to show his true colours, tip him over the edge to prove that even The Great Harry Potter could be as rotten as a Malfoy.

(And perhaps Draco also loved to see Potter riled up, face red and thick eyebrows furrowed, intense gaze piercing through him in a way that made him feel naked.  But no one needs to know that.)

-

It was Draco's 18th birthday, the Slytherin common room was warm and pleasantly quiet, it was still early in the morning.  

Some third year student were rushing to finish off their potions homework, speaking in hushed voices at the table.

The fireplace was burning, the embers glowing to give the cold looking a room a warm looking glow.

Draco sat with a book in his lap, fingers skimming over the lines on the page.  The page was illustrated with pictures of cauldrons bubbling over and vials pouring out substances, he turned the page to read through the analysis of the new potion he was trying to brew.

The morning passed quickly, the common room was soon filled with students buzzing, Draco felt his peace slipping away.  

He decided to go to the library, shutting his book and placing it into his satchel.  He wrapped his scarf around his neck and stretched out his limbs, joints cracking and muscles loosening as a reminder that it's been a little over four months since he played Quidditch last.

"Don't tell me you're going to the library on your birthday," 

Draco turned his head to see Pansy standing at the foot of the steps, arms crossed and eyebrow cocked up.

Draco pursed his lips and rolled his eyes, there was never a moment that Pansy didn't judge Draco's excessive obsession with his new potion.  

"No, I'm actually going to the Gryffindor common room - heard that Potter and Granger have put together a little soiree for me.  Very elegant, Granger's wearing her full gown and everything." he snarked, pulling his bag across his shoulder. 

Pansy smirked, stepping closer to Draco.  

"There isn't a moment in the day when you can resist bringing him up, is there?  It's barely eight in the morning and his name is the first thing out of your mouth," Pansy commented leisurely, an annoying smile on his face.

"Actually, the first word out of my mouth this morning was no and if you don't have any more stupid questions for me, I'll be leaving," he replied stiffly, his stance getting defensive at the mere thought that Pansy was insinuating that he's obsessed with Potter.  That's impossible.  Ridiculous really.  

Pansy giggled, he hated that sound.  Always meant that she was either scheming or thinking of scheming.  

"I'll join you, can't have the birthday boy spending his day alone now, can we?" 

Draco rolled his eyes and started walking, leaving her to grab her things and catch up with him.

-

"God, how are his eyes still inside his skull?  He rolls them every three second, this has got to be some kind of world record,"  

Hermoine looked up from her essay just to shoot Harry a dirty look.

"And at this rate, you'll be setting a world record for the lowest N.E.W.T scores of all time," she said pointedly before resuming her work.  

Harry rolled his eyes.  

"You've spent so much time staring at him, he's rubbing off on you," Ron snickered.

Harry sputtered an unintelligible response before grudgingly opening his textbook.  

"For the record, I do not stare at him that much - he's just always there,"

Ron looked up, face deadpan, "Harry, mate, you've had better jokes."

-

"Draco please!" Pansy begged, intertwining her fingers in front of her face and making her eyes comically wide.

"I'm gay Pansy, that doesn't work on me," 

Pansy scoffed and muttered something about "it would if Harry did it" under her breath.  

Draco inhaled deeply, chest expanding, before turning his full body to face her. 

"What.  Did.  You.  Just.  Say?" 

Pansy quickly glanced at him before pointedly looking away.

"You heard me clear enough.  Unless you want me to announce your massive hard-on for Potter to the entire library," she shrugged casually.  

Draco leapt out of his seat, eyes wide, frantically looking around to catch anyone that might've heard that before bearing down on her, covering her mouth with his palm.  

"Are you insane?  Or perhaps delusional?" He whispered heatedly, teeth clenching.  

He felt her lips quirk up in a smile under his palm.  

He pulled his hand away before calmly returning to his seat.  He picked up his wand before turning to face her again. 

"Since you clearly cannot keep your mouth shut, I'll help you out," he smiled pleasantly, Pansy only just about had time for a "n-" to leave her throat before Draco muttered a quick "silencio,".

He smiled, pleased with himself.  Pansy, on the other hand, looked like she was ready to murder him.  Her mouth moved in an exaggerated manner as she tried to call him a "fucking twat",  but all Draco did was turn his head to his books, ignoring her.  

"That should teach you to stop saying stupid things," He commented haughtily, quill scribbling quick notes over the page of his book.

Three seconds later, a slip of parchment slid on to his book with one single word.

"Potter"

He whipped his head around, expression furious at Pansy's smug nonchalance, before he opened his mouth.

"IF YOU BRING HIM UP ONE MOR-"

Draco was asked to leave the library. 

 -

"What do you think that was about?" Harry questioned, eyes still lingering on the spot that Draco and Pansy were in a few minutes ago.

"Your guess is as good as mine mate," Ron replied.  Hermione hummed in agreement, eyes still glued to her essay.

"D'you think it's perhaps about an ex lover or something?" Harry asked casually, twiddling his quill between his fingers and leaning back in his chair to look nonchalant.  

He overestimated the weight he put on the edge of the backrest and his eyes widened in panic, a yelp escaping him a split second before his chair tipped over and smashed against the floor, throwing him off in the most ungraceful way.  

Ron barked out a laugh and Hermione looked majorly unimpressed (but the corner of her lip was upturned) as Harry scrambled to straighten out his chair, heaving himself off the floor and trying to make it seem like his entire ass wasn't bruised black and blue from the hardwood floor.

Heads turned toward where the commotion was coming from and Madam Prince swooped in seconds later, hand menacingly squeezing the back of Harry's neck in an effort to make him wince. 

"What is with you seventh years and your inability to stay quiet," she scolded, glaring eyes finding Harry's.  "Out, Potter."  

"What?  But it was just an accident!" Harry complained, he stared at her pleadingly.  

"Come to the library when you want to study, you can stare at Mr Malfoy during break," 

Ron wheezed, clutching his stomach in silent laughter.  

Hermione was the only one allowed to stay in the library.

-

Blaise ended up reversing the charm Draco put on Pansy after they returned to the common room.  Draco's face was twisted in a scowl, mood sour.  Pansy, despite not being able to speak, seemed quite pleased with herself.

"She says I'm the one that's obsessed with Potter but she's the one that is constantly bringing him up!" Draco explained, face red with frustration.  Blaise was highly amused, glancing between Draco and Pansy.

"You actually always bring him up first, it's like you're looking for an opportunity to bring him up!  Last night you literally said, 'oh this plant is the same colour as Potter's eyes.  I hate it.' and then you took the plant to your room, and Blaise said that you kept it on your dresser!"  Pansy defended herself, her voice going shrill.

"I took it to throw it away!" he rebutted, wincing at the volume of his voice.

"Blaise said that you watered it this morning!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms up.

"Why is Blaise telling you everything I do!?" he glared at Blaise who put his arms up in surrender, shrugging his shoulders.

"Because you're ridiculous and obsessed with Potter but you won't admit it," 

"No you're obsessed, maybe you're the one with a crush on Potter!  Huh!  Ever thought of that!?" 

Everyone paused, silence fell over the trio.  

"No one said anything about a crush..." Pansy's smile widened, sly and unsettling.  Draco gulped, tongue useless, his mouth running dry as he tried to salvage himself.

Blaise laughed loudly, throwing his head back and clutching Draco's shoulder for support.

"Pansy, whatever you're thinking, don't-"

"No, Draco!  You don't understand!  I have the perfect plan.  Commence, operation 'woo-Harry-Potter'," 

Draco face palmed and released a defeated sigh.

"Step number one, a makeover," 

"You better be fucking joking right now or I swear-"