Black Craft

Chapter 1

Draco remembers his father's harsh words about Harry Potter. He killed the Dark Lord. He's a murderer and dangerous. His mother is a mudblood. He uses people to get what he wants: fame. He cannot be trusted.
Though, seeing The Boy Who Lived for the first time in person, amongst all the other first year students, was exciting. After all the bad things he'd heard about the brunette, Draco couldn't stop looking at him.

DRACO POV

He doesn't look malicious, or untrustworthy. He looks... kind, smart, interesting. I bet he has lots of stories to tell. I can imagine us being best friends, we'd be the most famous duo of hogwarts. Everyone would love us.

With this fantasy in mind, I decide to speak up, trying to act cool and confident. "It's true then, what they were saying on the train. Harry Potter has come to hogwarts."

As an after thought I add, "this is Crabbe and Goyle," just so he doesn't think I'm a random loner. I need to look cool. I start walking towards him slowly. "And I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

I hear a snort of laughter, my smile immediately dropping and head whipping in the direction the sound came from, locking eyes with Ron. Embarrassment curls in my stomach, making me extremely defensive.

What's so funny about being a Malfoy? Has he made rumours about me? Why'd he laugh at me in front of everyone, doesn't he know how humiliating that is? I will not let people think I'm weak. I'll get him back.

I feel my lip curl up in a snarl and say, "think my names funny do you? No need to ask yours. Red hair and a hand me down robe, you must be a Weasley." There. Now he will never make fun of me again.

"You'll soon find out some wizarding family's are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort," I say, having heard my father saying this for years. "I can help you there."

I offer my hand, feeling excitement coursing through my veins. Here's the beginning of it all, I can see it now: Harry and Draco, best friends and most popular wizards of their year. I can't wait.

To my dismay, he looks down at my hand, not shaking it yet. My hand goes clammy with nerves.

"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks."

My eyes squint in anger. Father was right. Harry Potter is untrustworthy and rude. First Weasley, and now Potter has humiliated me in front of everyone. How can I live up to father's expectations now. People need to love me, not laugh at me. Potter will pay.