Published at 27th of May 2024 12:13 am

Chapter 182: The Serpent Awakens

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30 January 1994, Hogwarts

Sometimes, Draco Malfoy was jealous of Harry Potter. It had started in his first year when he was able to befriend Greengrass, Davis and Zabini without any effort. Those were the only Slytherin students in his year whose families weren't under his father's sphere of influence. Draco had planned on gaining their trust and ruling over Slytherin House as its King, as his father did before him.

Of course, that was when Potter decided to ruin everything without even trying. He had dismissed the green-eyed boy when he was sorted in his house, on the basis of his blood status. He was just some half-blood orphan whose name was synonymous with one of the greatest disasters in recent history, his legacy tainted by the magical blood that was spilt that day on Godric's Hollow, of which he was the only survivor. It was a pressure point like his father taught him, that would make people sing to his tunes.

He really should have listened to his father more when he was younger. He would have said that the boy was obviously different, and in many ways, unnatural. He was just too good at magic, too calm, too mature for it to be normal. But people ate it all up, and he hated it. And so, he kept challenging him, in the hopes that he would shrivel when his pressure point was pressed. He didn't. And Draco paid the price. He lost his status in the house; he was looked down on by everyone.

Draco tried; he really did. Even in potions, which his godfather had tutored him for years, he ended up getting beaten handily by the half-blood.

He was such an idiot; he focused on Potter not being under his influence, of the Half-blood having friends and making connections, that he didn't think of confirming the ones that he did possess. Nott obviously didn't like him, but did so on the orders of his father, whom even Draco's own father thought to be a distasteful and sadistic man. And the young Malfoy paid the price for it.

Lucius Malfoy had perished, and with him, most of the house's influence. Oh, they were still very rich and had contacts, but the leadership of the Traditionalist faction was immediately swept away and taken over by the Nott family. The Nott Patriarch did a good job of getting rid of any remnants of the Malfoy influence, and Draco's mother wasn't interested in fighting him, doing her best not to end up under someone's thumb in the chaos.

Nott had even managed to get a new law voted in, saying that minors would not gain access to their parents' full vaults if the vault had more than a million galleons in them, destroying any hope Draco's mother had to return to politics. She only had her personal vault for their expenses, but she never really cared about them, meaning that whatever was inside, wouldn't be enough to support them and their lifestyle for five years.

Thankfully, Narcissa was able to contact her paternal grandfather, Arcturus Black, who agreed to give her a sizable stipend until Draco's majority, which would give him access to the entirety of the Malfoy fortune.

The previous summer was filled with boring events, people coming up to Draco and his mother with a fake expression of mourning, trying to take advantage of them. Of course, all of this stopped when Nott passed the bill, and there was no family fortune to steal anymore.

He had thought that school would have been a good reprieve from the sombre atmosphere that was at home. His mother had taken her husband's passing very badly, not that Draco was any better. Damn that smiling killer to hell.

Alas, he came back to the castle, eager for a distraction, any kind really. He would even take Longbottom pranking him or anything, just so he would stop thinking about his father again. He missed having childish spats with other students, maybe even duelling them in the corridor. Hell, he even missed playing Quidditch.

However, it was all for nought. No one cared about him anymore. Crabbe and Goyle left him like they hadn't been friends for years, just to follow Nott. Pansy barely paid him any attention. Even Millicent stopped trying to get his attention.

The realization hit Draco Malfoy like a bludger to the chest. His name, once whispered in both fear and respect, now seemed to hold as much weight as a feather. The corridors of Hogwarts, which once parted like the Red Sea at his approach, now closed in on him, indifferent and cold.

His isolation was not just social but emotional as well. He longed for the days when his biggest worry was outshining Potter in Potions or getting one over Longbottom. Now, his concerns were far graver: the preservation of his family's legacy, the survival of their dwindling influence, and the crushing weight of his father's absence.

The Slytherin common room, once his sanctuary, had become a lion's den. Whispers followed him as he walked past his housemates, their eyes filled with a curious mix of pity and disdain. The Slytherin throne, which he once occupied with such ease, now belonged to Theodore Nott, who lounged in his seat looking just as miserable as Draco felt.

It was then that Draco realized that the only special thing about him was his father, and without him in the background making people terrified of his reprisal, he would have been all alone.

No, he was all alone.

He sat in the common room, in the corner where no one would bother him, and pondered about what his life meant, what his ancestor's legacy meant. He was playing chess against a very old, animated chessboard, one that learned from the magic of dozens of Malfoys before him. He almost lost every time, but not without leaving with a lesson.

The blond boy barely noticed when someone else sat in front of him, right as he lost his fifth game in the afternoon, "Might if I join you for a game?"

Draco looked up and saw the impassive face of Theodore Nott looking down at him, "Suit yourself."

And just like that the chessboard started to rearrange itself once more and he asked Nott, "Black or White?"

"I always prefer to play in Black," the other boy responded.

"I guess I'll go first, then. Pawn to E4" the blond stated.

The game continued, no one saying anything but their moves, but Draco could tell that he was winning. It was a shame, he thought that Nott would at least be challenging to play against. Perhaps, it was the fault of his magical crest.

Ah, yes, during the stress of summer and the realization during school that he was all alone, Draco's crest finally activated, and with it, the spells that his ancestors had perfected over the course of centuries. Most of the spells were the mental variety. It wasn't exactly the mind arts hidden by the mind healers who were constrained with so many oaths that it was a wonder they could function at all. No, they were centred around Thought acceleration, memory partition and emotional control. It was a very underrated skill set, especially during duelling.

He was planning on taking advantage of it during the upcoming duelling championship. Alas, the thought partitioning made chess games a little boring since he could see so many steps ahead of his opponents that he might as well be bullying them. Of course, the Malfoy chess set was designed to make it as challenging as possible and train this skill, but poor Nott did not have this luxury.

It didn't take long for Draco to wipe the floor with Nott, who had an odd gleam in his eyes when they were done, "You're very good at this."

"Everyone ought to be good at something," the blond simply replied.

"Yeah, I can see that. You're different than you used to be."

"Less of a brat, you mean," Draco replied with a scoff, "It comes with the whole dead father thing. No wonder Potter always acted so high and mighty."

"Everyone thought that you were a spoiled brat, Malfoy, even the people who pretended to be your friend to curry a favour with the next Malfoy Patriarch."

"You don't have to twist the knife, Nott. You win…"

"Win what, exactly? Do you think I like having people with fake smiles pretend to laugh at stuff that I didn't even mean as jokes? I barely have any time to myself anymore. No, believe me, I didn't come here to gloat. I came here with an offer, one that would benefit the both of us."

"Like what, join the rest of the house and brownnose…"

Nott interrupted him, "For fuck's sake, why are you making things so hard? I want us to be friends. Is that so hard?"

Draco was taken aback slightly, but Nott continued before he could say anything, "Do you remember the first task? We're the only ones other than Potter's gang in Slytherin to finish the obstacle course and we did it because we worked together. We made a great team, didn't we?"

Draco thought back and couldn't help but smile slightly, "I guess we did."

It was the most alive he had felt since his father's passing. He was able to use his thought partitioning to make a plan and followed through with it alongside Nott. He doesn't even remember how they came to join each other, only that they refused to fail the task. They braved the unknown together and did far better than anyone expected. Draco's strategies and Nott's skill in charms worked so well together, enough for him to forget, for a few precious minutes, about his father, about his mother's grieving, about the state of his house, about his own loneliness.

Nott then insisted, "Come on. Don't you need a partner to train for the Dueling tournament? It's less than a month away, remember?"

Draco hesitated, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. He had not expected this – an offer of friendship from Theodore Nott, the very person who had usurped his place in Slytherin. But a memory of the task, of how free he felt on that day, lingered in the back of his head.

"Alright, Nott," Draco found himself saying, the words almost foreign in his mouth. "Let's start this as just training for the tournament, and we'll see where it goes."

The boy's hopeful expression bloomed into the first true smile that he had never seen on Nott's face. Was every smile before a fake? Now that Draco thought about it, he never really smiled, just a polite upward twist of his lips or a smug smirk, never really anything else.

Did he feel as he did, alone in a world of strangers?

Would it be so bad to have a true friend for once, someone who wouldn't want him for his family fortune, or political influence, someone Draco could rely on to have his back in this pit of vipers?

Intellectually, he knew that it was probably a mistake, their friendship would be taken as a sign of the Malfoy family finally submitting to the Nott's supremacy. But he didn't care. For once in his life, Draco decided to make a decision for himself and took a leap of faith. He raised his hand, which Nott met without hesitation, "Partners?"

"Partners."

And just like that, Draco felt a weight being dropped from his shoulders. He stared at Nott, who looked just as relieved as he felt.

The moment was broken as two envelopes with the familiar green seal of House Slytherin floated towards them. From Nott's widened eyes, he too understood what those letters meant. The Court of Slytherin summoned them, and at this time of year, it could mean one thing – they had started to recruit people to join their ranks.

He didn't care that Potter and all of his friends also received similar invitations, nor did he feel any jealousy against Nott, who was staring at his own envelope without even opening it.

Draco's heart raced as he took the envelope, the weight of its significance heavy in his hands. This was more than an invitation; it was proof that the Malfoy name still meant something, that not all was lost. Beside him, Nott's expression mirrored his own, a mixture of surprise and determination. This was the chance he had waited for, the chance to forge a new legacy, independent of the shadows of the past, independent of his father.

AN: Let me know what you think about this chapter. I thought that Harry's perspective about the Court would have been boring, and wanted to see Draco finally getting some character development. If you have any comments or recommendations, please let me know.

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