The Secret's In The Telling ENG DRARRY

Chapter 1: It Begins

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Draco Malfoy was spoilt – and happily aware of that fact.

Currently, the self-proclaimed Prince of Slytherin lay sprawled on the couch closest to the fireplace, his head resting in Pansy Parkinson's lap as she obediently stroked his hair. He'd had the house elves bring them chocolate, and Blaise had managed to smuggle in Butterbeer.

Sixth Year was off to a better start than he'd hoped. For one, there was the new member of staff, Professor Slughorn, of whom he entirely approved. An individual who appreciated a good background in students had to be admired. He was so unlike most other fool teachers – McGonagall, for instance, who all but flaunted her Gryffindorish love of Mudbloods. Yes, Slughorn was definitely worthy to teach a Malfoy.

Another good thing about this year was that Professor Snape had finally gotten his place as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Admittedly, his head of house was certainly better suited to the role than others – the werewolf, for example – but the main reason this pleased Draco so much was that now Severus had what he wanted, he was even nicer to his Slytherins than usual. Draco was quite amazed that Dumbledore was making so many right decisions all of a sudden. The only thing wrong with the upcoming year was that Lupin was back, this time teaching Care of Magical Creatures – which was appropriate, considering. But that was okay, as it was a class Draco definitely wasn't taking, and the meek little man would be fun to taunt every now and then.

And finally, probably the best thing yet, Harry Potter had never been so miserable!

Oh, it was a brilliant state of affairs at this moment in time for Draco. His Potions Professor loved him because he was a pureblood and rich, his Defence Professor was his very own godfather, who had always favoured him, and Harry sodding Potter was spending his days looking damn near suicidal. This, of course, came with the added bonus of getting to watch Weasel and the Mudblood walk around on knife edges, looking as if they either wanted to cry or start running in the opposite direction to the precious saviour of the Wizarding World.

"Draco, we're taking another trip to the kitchens. Heard they're making pancakes for the morning down there. You coming?"

Yep. Life was good.

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Hermione Granger knew very well what was wrong with her best friend – she just had no idea what to do about it. What did one do or say to comfort someone like Harry? Harry, who at the best of times was reclusive and secretive, but who had now withdrawn so totally it was hard to know how to act around him anymore...

She knew he had every right to act this way, really. Harry'd never had a very happy life, after all. From the Dursleys to Voldemort, his parents to Cedric... and now Sirius. She knew it had all had to catch up to him sometime. Sirius had been the final blow, especially since he'd had the summer to brood over it.

But what did that leave her with? A sixteen year old boy that neither she nor Ron knew how to deal with. How were they supposed to figure out how to heal somebody like Harry? This was out of even her depth. She would have gone to either McGonagall or even Dumbledore, but surely they would have done something by now if they thought it was really necessary...? Besides, now that Lupin was back at the school, she'd been hoping that he'd be able to talk to Harry, especially since Hagrid was absent on some mission given to him by Dumbledore.

Hermione knew that her friend wasn't so far gone that he'd go and do something stupid. He just had to get this out of his system, was all. Of course he was going to be depressed! He'd just lost the one parental figure he'd ever known and loved. How could he be anything but, really?

They'd just have to weather this out with him, was all.

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Harry Potter stared into the lake, watched as something from below rippled its surface, and tried to think about nothing.