A Love Story - Undoing of Fate

Chapter 2

By Ruz

       

The King’s Cross Station was filled with a sea of humanity. There were mothers hugging or admonishing their children, students doing their last minute check of the things needed to bring, friends chatting and talking about the latest broom model in town, and cages with owls hooting in them.

And among them was Hermione Granger, a promising witch of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Standing on tiptoes and craning her neck, Hermione scanned across the station, trying to find her two best friends. Effortlessly, she soon spotted a group of people with red-flaming hair a distance away, and quickly made her way there.

“Fred! Put that thing away!” Hermione heard Mrs. Weasley shouted, horrified at whatever object her son was holding.

“It’s harmless!” George Weasley retorted, but what explanation he made was fall upon deaf ears as his mother pulled his ear hard. Ginny Weasley stood closely by Mrs. Weasley’s side, hands over her mouth, trying to suppress her giggle at the sight of her brother yelling in pain.

Hermione ignored the slight commotion made by the Weasley twins and walked further on, stopping in front of another scarlet-haired man who was checking his luggage. A smile tugged at the side of her mouth as she saw the cluttered state her friend was in.

“Divination… Charms… Potions… Potions?? Oh no! Where the hell did I put it?” Ronald Weasley yelled, and Hermione laughed when Ron started to pull his hair out of despair.

“Hermione? Help me! I lost my potions homework! Snape’s going to feed me to the Basilisk!” Ron begged, as he suddenly noticed Hermione behind him.

“Well, that’s your own problem.” Hermione rejected immediately.

“Please Hermione, just this once…” But before Ron could say any further, another voice interrupted him.

“Hermione! Ron!” The clear tenor voice shouted through the crowds, drawing the attention of other passengers.

“Harry!” Ron shouted back with enthusiasm, as he threw aside all his worries about the ‘missing’ potion homework, conveniently forgetting about them.

It had been such a long time since the three of them met each other, and together once more, they started to talk, first about their holidays, which in the end led to the boys’ favourite topic, Quidditch.

“Charlie got the latest Laser-Bolt! He’s going to let us try it the next time we go visit him!” Ron said, face filled with excitement, as Harry nodded his head in enthusiasm.

Even after seven years of hearing the boys talk about Quidditch, Hermione still was not in the least interested by all the broom talk. As usual, Hermione tuned herself out of the conversation and looked around the station with a bored look.

There was a group of Hufflepuffs girls, most probably third years, chatting away, while there was another group of Ravenclaw boys at one corner, exchanging wizardry cards, which was starting to get popular among the boys.

Turning her head in another direction, Hermione caught sight of the 7th year Slytherins, who were about to board the train. Parkinson was flirting with Malfoy, playing with his light blond locks, but he remained impassive, listening to what Zabini was telling him.

‘Most probably about the prefect meeting after the welcome feast.’ Hermione thought to herself, keeping note that she have to attend it too.

Looking at Malfoy, Hermione suddenly recalled the day that she was chosen as a prefect. During the fifth year, surprisingly enough, Malfoy was chosen as a prefect. Some people were not pleased, but as prefects were chosen by Professor Albus Dumbledore himself, nobody dared to object.

However, after working closely with Malfoy as a prefect, Hermione admitted to herself, albeit unwillingly, that Malfoy was truly a great wizard, like… Hermione brushed away that thought.

‘Impossible. Malfoy can’t be…’ she dismissed her own ridiculous suggestion.

“Hermione! Quick! The train is about to leave!” Ron shouted, pulling Hermione out of her own clouded thoughts. Picking up her luggage, Hermione went after Ron into the train, but not without a last look at Malfoy, who was looking at Harry with an expression that Hermione never figured out what it meant, until she herself finally had a taste of what Draco Malfoy had been feeling then.

But until then, it was already too late…

       

Blaise tried to ignore Pansy flirting with Draco, as he passed down the message of the prefectorial board to Draco.

“Draco, the prefect meeting would be right after the feast. Granger wants the head prefect of each house to collect some sheets for the first years… ” And for the third time, Blaise caught himself once again staring at Pansy, who was playing with Draco’s soft golden hair, giggling softly into his ears.

During the whole conversation, Draco managed to keep his attention to Blaise, ignoring the girl’s amorous behavior.

Not surprising, since it had never changed for the past six years.

Still, he really couldn’t understand how Draco was able to stand that girl. Pansy was attractive, but she’s bitchy and flaunted her body at any given chance. Everybody knew that underneath that thick layer of make up, she’s a snake. A viper. A brat. Always getting what she wants.

Except for a certain blonde, Blaise mused, recalling all those futile efforts that she had put in all these years, yet getting no reward in return. He kind of felt sorry for her. But only a little bit.

That’s all a Slytherin could spare.

Blaise knew Parkinson got almost all the boys she wanted, yet Draco did not sway under her false illusions. That was why her desire for Draco deepened. She wanted him. With a craving to break him. To control him.

And a dangerous game was unleashed. But it was Draco who ended up as the master in this deceptive game, and her, his slave. He was controlling her, manipulating her like a butterfly in his hand. So easily crushed. And Pansy was willing.

And that’s the end of the story.

“I have duties after the feast.” Draco said, and Blaise pulled back his thoughts from the wandering hand on Draco’s body.

“Finish up your duties as soon as possible. You’ll be excused for being late.” Blaise replied, and then forced himself to divert his attention from the Slytherin girl to the surroundings.

Gazing around, Blaise noticed that the Head girl was staring in his way. He followed her eyes and ended up looking at Draco, with Pansy gluing her body to him.

“Disapproving the act, is it?” he said, as he took note of the slight frown on Granger’s face before she went up the train with Weasley.

But he knew that nothing was that simple.

He was a Slytherin after all.

“Blaise, let’s go.” Draco said, and silently, Blaise followed Draco up the train.

After a few minutes, the train soon began its journey to Hogwarts, the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

       

“Pansy. Stop it.” Draco Malfoy ordered, finally had enough of the Slytherin girl’s advance. Pansy Parkinson folded her arms, pouted, made a whimpering sound, and fell back into her own seat.

She knew her limits, and dare not think of what would happen to her if she went beyond the line.

Blaise suppressed his laughter, turning his head towards the window, pretending that he was actually enjoying the scenery. Pansy may not be as clever as Draco, but she was also one that Blaise would not want to mess up with. Laughing at her expense was never a good way to enjoy yourself.

“Blaise,” Blaise turned around as his eyes met cool grey ones. Immediately, he started to panic at what Draco might find out from them.

The eyes tell people a lot about a person.

Just like that pair of green eyes that Draco so often looked into.

“What is it, Draco?” Blaise asked, and to his utmost surprise, Draco handed him a book. As he took the book from him, millions of thoughts ran through his head.

What is he trying to tell me?

Or is there a message in the book?

“Thanks.”

“What?” Blaise almost shouted. Why would Draco suddenly thank him?

“For the book.” Draco replied, as he looked at him, puzzled by his behavior.

“For the book.” Blaise repeated the words, pretending that he understood everything. He looked at the book in his hand, and tried to remember what he had to do with it. He had never seen this piece of ugly shit before and…suddenly, memories flooded back to him and he almost burst out laughing.

       

“Hey Draco! Take a look at this!” Blaise shouted. Draco put down whatever thing he was holding and walked towards him. He took the book from him and swept away the thick layer of dust on it.

“No. I’ll return it back to you when school starts.” Draco insisted.

       

What a fool he have made himself into… Blaise laughed silently, as he found himself looking through the window once more.

       

In the train carriage, there was only the sound of Crabbe and Goyle snoring, and Pansy flipping her magazine, ‘Witch Weekly’.

Stupid thing if you asked him.

After an hour of reading, he put down his book for the seventh time. Unable to concentrate, Blaise decided to find another source of entertainment.

Blaise looked at his leader, trying to figure out what went through that mind of his. All these years, he kept close to him, just like what his father told him to.

Keep close to him. You will learn much from Draco Malfoy.

And he did.

His first impression of him when he met him on the train was that of a marble sculpture. He was beautiful, even though he was still an eleven-year-old child at that time. His aristocrat face was like a carving so painfully sculptured by a skilled artist, striking and almost perfect. But he was made of marble, so beautiful, yet so cold, never one to be touched.

“I’m Draco Malfoy.” He had said, with an air of nobility and arrogance.

“Blaise Zabini.”

And he followed him from then on.

In Slytherin, no one knew Draco as well as he did.

Well, maybe Pansy.

But they were never friends. He was only a follower to him, and Draco to him, was a leader.

Pansy adored him.

He respected him.

He was intelligent, cunning, all the things to look for in a leader. Similar to Pansy, he always got what he wanted.

But there was a huge difference… He would do anything to get them.

By any means.

At any cost.

And he would never ever want to stand in his way, because he was one of the few who knew what had happened to Dawn Flynn.

Most importantly, how she died.

“Well, I think it’s time to visit our celebrity already.” Draco said, breaking out of his trance. Getting up, Draco brushed the dust off his robes, before walking out of the cabin with the just awakened Vincent and Gregory.

And if he's not wrong, did he just saw something that was not meant to be seen?

After much consideration, he finally decided that no, Blaise Zabini did not see anything.

Blaise Zabini certainly did not see Draco Malfoy smiling as he walked off to find Potter.

No, nothing happened, and he gladly leave everything the way it should be.

He knew how Dawn Flynn died, though he had no idea why she died. He only knew that she saw something that she should not be seeing. After all, catching a glimpse of a smiling Draco Malfoy may easily cost you a life, and there were a lot of ways to end it, most of them unpleasant.

And he wouldn’t want to be at the other end of Draco’s wand.

Never.

       

‘Dump, da-dump, dump, da-dump.’

The sound of the train moving along the uneven railway tracks could be heard, as some students felt drowsy under the comforting rhythmic sound. The ride from London to Hogwarts was tedious, and after the first few hours of the journey, most students spent their time trying to catch up with their sleep.

The peaceful silence was soon shattered, as Draco Malfoy strode down the train, with his two sidekicks, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, flanking at his sides. As the three Slytherins made their way down the train, furtive glances were shot at them, while Draco stared dispassionately at the sea of faces that were filled with either apprehension or disgust as he strolled passed the students.

As Draco entered another cabin, the previously noisy train carriage soon fell into dead silence. The only sound audible was Vincent’s footsteps.

“Thump.”

And a book.

About a few meters away, a book was dropped unforgivingly to the ground, attracting Draco’s attention. Walking towards the book, Draco summoned it up into his hands.

“Accio.”

Draco’s eyes scanned over the book cover.

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble.

Resisting the sudden urge to laugh, Draco raised his eyebrow.

“May I ask whose book does this belongs to?” Draco asked.

No one answered.

After a few moments, the still atmosphere was finally broken by a feeble voice.

“Sir…it’s mine.”

The students in the carriage took in a deep breath as Draco made his way to the owner of the book.

Staring down at the little girl, Draco asked, “What’s your name?”

“I’m…I’m Grace…Grace Altman.” The raven-haired girl stuttered, her fingers grabbing the side of her robes.

“I’m Draco. Draco Malfoy.”

Allowing himself a smile, Draco handed the book over to the timid girl and left.

Seconds later, the whole carriage burst into commotion.

       

“He what!” Ron burst out, his mouth still full of Pumpkin Pasties.

“Elma told me she heard someone saying that Malfoy smiled at a first year and asked for her name!” Ginny blurted out, excited by the news.

“Ginny…” Ron warned, his face getting redder and redder.

“Really! It’s true!” Ginny said, as she turned around to look at Harry, hoping that he would believe her.

In the mean time, Hermione was racking her brains for reasons.

‘Why would Malfoy show a sudden interest in that first year?’

But Hermione could not come up with a single rational reason and really could not guess what Draco Malfoy’s true intention was. He was never predictable, but this was really weird! Hermione gave up trying to figure what Malfoy had in mind and looked at Harry, who all of a sudden became quiet and still.

As Ron and Ginny continued make a racket, Harry tried to swallow the Every-flavour bean in his mouth, slowly digesting the news that Ginny had told them.

“It’s really Draco Malfoy!” Harry heard Ginny said, as Ron tried to squeeze out more information from her.

Draco Malfoy…Harry felt a sour tang on his tongue as the Every-flavour bean finally gone down his throat. But the acidic taste lingered, and he could still feel the pumpkin juice whirling in his stomach.

‘Why am I so bothered by the news? I don’t care about him!’ Harry thought, but the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach just wouldn’t go away.

“He smiled at her? Come on! This is Malfoy we’re talking about!” Ron said, still buffered by the news.

“Do you believe me or not?” Ginny snapped, irritated at her brother’s probing.

Harry chewed his lower lip as he continued to figure out his feelings. Images of Draco Malfoy fleeted through his thoughts, but they were only of scorn, mockery, anger. During the last six years, Harry had never seen Draco Malfoy smiled before. Malfoy laughed at him when he fall into the mud, smirked at him as he insulted him and his friends, grinned at him when Snape scolded him, but never once in these long six years has Draco Malfoy ever smiled at him.

Taking his own self by surprise, Harry blushed and quickly dismissed the thought.

‘Why would I want Malfoy to smile at me like that?’

“Are you all right?” Harry looked up and saw Hermione looking at him worriedly.

“Nothing…it’s just… just the Every-flavour bean.” Harry replied hesitantly. Unsatisfied by the answer, Hermione tried to ask him again, but it was cut-short by an unwelcome visitor.

       

“Crabbe, Goyle, stay behind. I’m going in alone.” Draco ordered, and as he entered the last carriage, Draco found himself right in the middle of a fight.

"Ron, you are an idiot!” Ginny Weasley screamed, her shrilled voice, piercing through his ears.

“I don’t believe what you said! From what I know, Malfoy’s not straight!” Ron shouted back, oblivious to the surrounding, including the Slytherin who was standing right behind his back.

“And how do you know that?”

“Fred and George told me that…” Ron blabbered on, and suddenly froze in mid-sentence.

“Ginny, did you said that?” Ginny shook her head slowly, staring behind him, eyes widened in fear.

“Herm? Harry?” Ron asked weakly, but both of them just shook their head, looking rather uneasy at what was behind his back.

‘Come on, Ron. You’re a bloody Gryffindor! Turn your head! Turn your head!’

With whatever ounce of courage he had gathered, Ron turned his head around little by little, and finally found himself face to face with his mortal enemy, Draco Malfoy.

“Well, continue what you were trying to say. I really would like to find out how the Weasley twins came to that conclusion.” Draco said, leaning against the carriage door nonchalantly, not the least bothered by Ron’s alarmed face.

“They… I… you… what the hell are you doing here?” Ron blurted out, his hand in his pocket, ready to whip out his wand at a moments notice.

“I’m not here for a fight, Weasley. Even if so, do you think you would be able to beat me?” Draco hissed, his tone changed to a threatening one. Before Ron could make out what to say, Draco had already walked towards Harry, standing face to face with him.

“What do you want?” Harry asked composedly, smoothing his temper as previous thoughts of Draco faded away.

“Do I need a reason to take a look at our Golden Boy?” Harry’s body stiffened.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why? You seemed fine with everyone calling you that.” Draco drawled, his silky voice getting on Harry’s nerves.

“You’re not me.”

“That’s true…” but before Draco could say more, he was pushed away by a furious Ron.

“Sod off, Malfoy!”

“Don’t touch me with your filthy hands, Weasley!” Draco sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Harry watched silently as the Slytherin sneered at Ron, his lips twisted up slightly in a smirk.

Always a smirk.

Never a smile.

Never a smile… …

Suddenly, Harry felt Draco’s shoulder brushed against him as Draco made his way out of the carriage. And at that split moment, he thought he heard Draco whispering to him, his soft voice caressing his ear.

“We’re not unlike, Potter…”

And before his mind could register what had just happened, Draco left the cabin, the door slammed shut behind him.

“Are you all right?” Hermione asked, seeing that Draco had deliberately bumped into him.

Looking straight into Hermione’s warm brown eyes, Harry was about to tell her everything when Draco’s words came back to him.

‘We’re not unlike, Potter…’

‘…not unlike …’

Looking away from Hermione’s eyes, Harry answered.

“Nothing.” He lied. “Nothing at all.”

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