Your Father Won't Hear About This (Drarry)

Back from Diagon Alley

Okay, I just want to add this in but I don't think that this Drarry story will interrupt any of the other books in Harry Potter just only add in side stories. Just so you know and all rights reserved for J.K. Rowling and none of these pics/drawings are mine.
Draco Malfoy rushed into his room in Malfoy Manor, closing the door with a slam. His day, he thought, was not that enjoyable. He went up to his desk where he used to write stories and draw pictures and just sat there, absently thinking about the boy from Diagon Alley that clearly had barely any clue whatsoever about the Wizarding world.

He had raven jet black hair and big, circular glasses that covered his emerald eyes. He was thin and seemed physically weak but emotionally strong. That boy was different, he could tell, so confused yet clever and kind.

Draco frowned slightly. He couldn't stop thinking about one detail about that boy that was suspicious. He seemed to be hiding something something under his nest of messy hair on his forehead. A thin, jagged line, like a scar of some sort. He kept frowning, thoughts swimming through his head like a hurricane, trying to put together the puzzle pieces.

Draco was an intelligent wizard. He could figure out human emotions easily and knew how to make people mad and angry at themselves, others, and sometimes himself (actually, most of the anger was directed at Draco). His father, Lucius Malfoy, taught him almost everything you had to know about the wizarding world, but it seemed like Lucius had stuffed every bit of information he could get into Draco's brain. Yeah, that was more like it.

But sometimes Draco would get carried away with something and his father would hit him until he 'came to his senses'. Draco's mother, Narcissa Malfoy, always told him that his father cared about him and his outside life that wasn't about education and power but Draco never believed her. It had never seemed like it. She told him that his father took pride in his only son and only wanted the best life for him to live but Draco didn't believe that either because he didn't think he was living the best life, even if he was a rich pureblood.

Finally he pieced together some pieces but he could definitely tell not all of the pieces were put together yet. The boy's clothes definitely were a mystery, they weren't as nice and formal like Draco's and what Draco would think they would look like.

The boy he met was Harry Potter.

It made absolute sense. He seemed like he was a first year, fascinated by every around him, and since Harry Potter was born in the same year as Draco was it was only reasonable. The famous scar Lucius Malfoy always sneered at when the Potter boy was mentioned, his raven black hair that was seriously messy like bed hair but unfixable. Draco smirked at that.

Draco was sure it was Harry Potter, the perfect boy, everyone's hero, the golden boy. And if it wasn't he'd figure out who it was at school. If it was, he'd see him at school.