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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/338096
Rated: 18+ · Book · Fanfiction · #890241
My first Harry Potter Fanfic
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#338096 added March 31, 2005 at 12:17pm
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Chapter 1
Months passed and Harry was himself most of the time. he no longer felt as depressed as he had and as he descended the steps, his face lit with excitement. It was Christmas day!

"Harry!" hermione lept up, beaming, "Come on! You've loads of presents this year!"

"Yeah, from your concerned fans." Ron added teasingly.

With a small smile the wizard slid to the floor next to Ron.
The first parcel was from the Weasley's, another of Ron's mother's hand - knitted jumpers in emerald green with home - made fudge tucked beneath it, accompanied with a concerned by light hearted letter from the kind family.
Next were a collection of gifts containing small items like a pen or coloured ink, excepting one case where he found golden underpants. They all came from people he barely knew.
Moody had sent an orb that Harry had seen before, it was a Foe Glass and the few shadows within were passing slowly. Tonks had given him a bottle of ever - lasting gobstoppers. Mundungus had sent a rather oddly shaped cauldron, even Mrs Figg had sent him a pillow with a cat sewn onto its front. Of course there in the centre of Hagrid's annual rock cake.

Setting all these aside for the moment he reached for a small box shaped present wrapped in green, red and silver. As he took the letter with it another faint grin crept onto his face. Cautiously he took the gift and with a slight hesitation, opened it. Inside lay a chain and on it a silver amulet gleamed. Professor Lupin had sent him a happiness charm fomr the heart of Andorra, made to repel and bad dreams and negative thoughts. Feathers fluttered above him. A barn owl was perched there, a neglected, sad look in its eyes. For some reason they struck Harry as similiar to something else... Reaching out Harry took the letter. Familiar scrawl was carved into the parchment. Sirius' writing

****************

Draco was sitting outside by the Quidditch Pitch when the first snowflakes fell. They spread through the dusk like early falling stars, he smiled. Such beauty on the darkest day of the year. The cruelest day. A day of so many memories for Draco, not pleasent memories. Shuddering he waited. The night had been so sad and he wondered if the Potter boy hwas doing any better. Strangely he glanced at the object he had come outside to open. It was a gift, wrapped in green, gold and red. It was from Harry, the letter with it was a thank you, for stopping him from 'doing something stupid', but the whole nature of the letter seemed half hearted. Since the incident it had weighed heavily on his mind... He could not understand how someone who's life seemed so perfect really be so miserable?

Tentitively he opened the package. Hands trembling, not because of the cold. Though he denied this in his mind, with every fibre of his body.

"Salazar's beard!"

Inside the red, settled in black velvet, was a tiny, sleeping Chinese Fireball. As he goggled down at it the beast lifted its scaley head, yellow eyes looking up at him and it yawned. A quite yawn that made small flames flicker out of its mouth, tongues of fire and shadow.

A note was pinned beneath it. *Feed it one dead shrew every day. Same as you would for a small baby owl.*

The neat writing on the parchement made Draco smile. Trust someone like Harry to send him a note on how to feed a dragon. The orange head rubbed itself against his hand. A miniature pet dragon...

"I'm going to call you..."

The writing on the note changed in a flow of colour, *His name is Inylan Nimbus Aringressa Draco. It's long but it's a traditional dragon name.*

"Well then I'll nick - name you Harry." Because this will be the closest I ever get to him... As soon as he had thought it he stamped it out. he hd not just been thinking that...

The eyes gazed up at him incredulously but seemed to grin, a draconian grin.

***************

Harry dropped the letter. Its folds fluttering in its fall. His whole body felt numb. Twelve weeks of help fell away in an instant. His face crumpled, became older and full of pain. All with the slight of that single envelope...

"Harry/" Ron was looking at him from a mound of wrapping paper, confusion written in the amber eyes, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just need some fresh air." With that he snatched the letter back up and dashed from the portrait hole. No one stopped him or attempted to stop him. They knew by now he would come back in his own time, when he w as ready...

Harry ran straight out into the morning. Snow came up to his bare ankles, all he was wearing was his jeans and t shirt. Bare feet sank into the white but he did not feel it. The falling flakes touched his open skin with a numbing kiss but he ran on. Tears of pain, of hope, of sheer wanting pricked heat in his eyes. The writing was Sirius'. The spiked t's and i's and k's made it plain. The muddy paw print beneath on made it more real. Could his godfather really be... Alive? Running on, still blinded with thought Harry went straight to his favourite place. The Quidditch pitch. He fell there, slipping awkwardly to his knees in the wet whiteness.

He did not feel the frost about him, nor the loss of feeling in his feet, barely awake, unaware of the way his whole body was shaking Trembling fingers ripped open the letter. A thin peice of paper enclosed within. Shutting his eyes tight he felt the salty drops snake down his face, freezing as they then dropped to the earth. This was not fair... This had to be some kind of Slytherin joke. A horrible prank...

***************

Draco let the dragon nestle in his gloved hand. He had his a dragon! His own draco! As he sat in the sheltered area under the stalls, a lone figure tore past him.

"Potter?" He gasped.

With out thinking he ran after the boy. This month had a habit of being the worst weeks in the yea, twisted beauty making everything bad seem worse. Only for himself it reopened each aching wounded, memory.

He watched, in silence as Potter sank to his knees, trembling violently, fingers ripping at an envelope. Draco stood, just out of Harry's sight. Then Harry was bent over, a miserable howl, akin to that of a captured wolf, tore through the freezing daylight. The chinese fireball crawled into Drac's pocket, pity in the yellow irises. Thin shoulders shook in tormented sobs.
He needs so much more than pity... He needs... NO!, don't you dare think it Draco... Just help him...

"Potter?" he said gently.

The thinly covered back stiffened, stilled and a dark head turned.

"Malfoy? Why are you out here?" Harry sniffed, angrily dashed tears from his eyes. Harry had been crying again?

"To welcome little Harry in to the big wide world."

Harry looked at him, slightly confused, slightly hurt.

"Not you. This Harry." He delve into his pocket and lifted out the once more sleeping dragon, "Inylan nimbus Aringressa Draco was a bit of a mouthful."

For the first time in a long time he saw a grin play across Harry's face... though it did not meet his eyes. Come on Potter... feel again... Be you again....

"What's wrong Potter?"

"Nothing... Bothing of course..." Shivering, feet an odd blue colour, the boy - who - lived rose. Unable to look Draco in the eye.

"You're cold though." Draco was concerned. how on earth had someone under such high surveillence managed to come out into the freezing cold, "Geez Potter! you've nothing warm on at all!"

Something flickered on Harry's face, like embaressment, he muttered something that Draco only just caught, "'S'what I got though isn't it...." Harry stopped abruptly, feeling he had let to much slip to someone who was his enemy. Sheepishly he gazed downwards. He shivered again. Draco sighed and slung his cloak over the other wizard.

"Leviare Surgit." Draco said with a flick of his wand.

Harry found himself floating just above the ground, out of the snow, "Malfoy!"

"Walk normally."

Tentitively Harry stepped forwards. The air held his weight. With his feet out of the snow and Draco's cloak over his shoulders he began to feel warmer. Out of nowhere he wondered if hermione knew this spell?...

Softly he whispered, "Thanks."

"Well, I'm going back inside. Coming Potter?"

"S'pose... Malfoy?"

"Yes?" Draco began to walk, Harry not far behind.

"Why did you help me on the train? Why this? Why did nothing exploit my weakness? Why -"

Draco held up a hand for silence, which to his surprise Harry took heed of.

"I know the only one who can defeat the Dark Lord is you, that's all I'll say for your first question. The third is a little more complicated. you see, recently there's been alot of trouble within Slytherin. most of us have been warned that it we step out of line we would be out of here in an instant. That's why I'm the only one left here over the holidays."

To Harry's obvious surprise Draco sounded relieved. Relieved not to be at home? Or to be alone? Harry desperately wanted to a sk but a close expression had shut Draco's face and made it painfully obvious that he did not want to be asked about it.

"The Slytherins are in Chaos," Draco continued, 'No one trusts any of the teachers, no one can prove they're innocent. Most aren't." {despite many are forced... "If we go after you... Well not only would be we be expelled but Voldemort would be waiting to snatch us up." The eyes of green looked into his own, "You see... loads of us don't have a choice as to whether we join. It's a dne deal."

They had come to the entrance hall. The yellow, flickering candles lit but faint in the daylight, seeing to dance, smiling at the two boys.

"Next time Potter, open your letters inside. Stare."

Harry's feet touched down and a red tinge ahd come to his cheeks. He bent his head. Had Draco imagined it or had Potter really blushed?

'Here. Thanks Malfoy." The cloak slipped off the still bony shoulders.

Draco touched Harry lightly, "No problem Potter."

***************

Harry slowly made his way back to his dorm. The unread letter now carefully folded in his pocket. He
© Copyright 2005 Dr Matticakes Myra (UN: dragoon362 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Dr Matticakes Myra has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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