The Rising Sun: Chapter 1
A Harry Potter Fanfic
Narcissa snatched up the back of Draco’s robes as he maneuvered his cart through the crowd. She wrinkled her nose at the sight of all the muggles and wished for the millionth time there were a method of reaching Hogwarts without passing through the muggle train station.
During her own years at school, the necessity of brushing shoulders with so many muggles had been merely an inconvenience and annoyance, but now, bringing her own son for his first year, the experience was positively frightening. Draco had shot up in height over the past few months, but he was still short enough that a crowd like this could sweep him away and completely obscure him from view within seconds.
Perhaps because of these fears, or perhaps because she kept her gaze at precisely eleven-year-old-boy height, as they passed the ninth platform, another child caught her eye.
He wore what appeared to be ill-fitting muggle attire and poorly-mended glasses, but he pushed a cart like Draco’s with a gold cage enclosing a beautiful snowy owl, and stared at the wall between platforms nine and ten as though willing a door to appear. Muggle-born then, but no sign of the parents.
“Draco, stop a moment.”
He turned around. “What is it?”
“Come here.” She led him to the little dark-haired boy and crouched slightly. “Hello. Are you lost?”
The boy’s head shot up, and his eyes widened for a second, then he sank back and watched her warily. “I’m looking for platform 9 3/4, but no one can tell me where it is.”
Narcissa smiled and straightened. “My son and I are going that way. Why don’t you come with us?” The boy nodded and grabbed his cart, evidently pleased to have finally found help.
“You’re the one I saw at Madam Malkin’s the other day!” Draco said. Narcissa raised an eyebrow. This was the first she had heard of it. “But you seemed angry. Were you mad at me?”
“No,” the boy said in a clipped tone.
“You are mad,” Draco said, “and now you’re lying about it.”
“No, I’m not–I’m not mad, but I did think the stuff you said about Hagrid was rude. He’s my friend, and I didn’t like the way you were talking about him.”
Hagrid . . . wasn’t he the groundskeeper? What kind of parents did this boy have that they let him be friends with the groundskeeper?
“Your friend?” Draco asked, clearly thinking along the same lines.
The boy nodded. “He came and got me from my aunt and uncle and told me I’m a wizard, and then he gave my cousin a pig’s tail!” He gave Draco a hard look. “So he can do magic, and rather well.”
Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, yes, I suppose he must.”
Narcissa held up her hand, and both boys stopped talking to look at her. She pointed to the wall between the two platforms. “The platform is straight through there,” she explained. “Just run through, and the train is on the other side.”
The new boy’s eyes widened. “Run through?"
“Yes. It’s perfectly safe. Draco, why don’t you go first?”
He did, running straight through the wall and disappearing through it. The other boy let out a choked gasp. “It’s alright,” Narcissa said gently. “Go ahead.”
He swallowed and gripped the cart tighter before running at the wall, disappearing as soon as he reached the bricks. Narcissa stepped through after and found both boys waiting. She laid her hand on the dark-hair boy’s shoulder. “What is your name? I can help you look for your family.”
“My name is Harry Potter, but my family already left. My aunt and uncle don’t want me to be a wizard, but Hagrid didn’t really give them much choice, so they left me here.”
Harry Potter. That was not what she had been expecting. She noticed now how his messy hair completely covered his forehead–and likely the scar. And his aunt and uncle just left him? He was only eleven for goodness’s sake! What did they mean to do if he missed the train?
“We better hurry,” Draco said, interrupting her thoughts. “We don’t have long before the train leaves.”
“Yes, yes, go. Have fun.” Narcissa leaned down and kissed his forehead. “You too, Harry.” She patted him on the shoulder and gestured for them to leave. They walked together, Draco pausing a moment to wave to her.
She smiled and waved back.
Draco and Harry found an empty compartment, and, though it took quite a bit of maneuvering, managed to get their trunks up the stairs.
“I can’t wait to get to Hogwarts,” Draco said.
Harry frowned. “Me neither. I can’t wait to leave, and learning magic sounds so exciting.”
Something Harry had said before struck Draco. “You said you didn’t know you were a wizard until the groundskeeper told you?”
“No. My aunt and uncle didn’t want me to know. They kept running away, trying to get away from the letters, so finally Hagrid had to come. That was on my birthday.”
Draco shook his head. He couldn’t imagine being raised by muggles and never knowing he was a wizard. He started to ask if that had been horrible, when the compartment door slid open, and a red-haired boy slipped in.
“Anyone sitting here? Everywhere else is full.”
Draco sneered, guessing who this was, but Harry spoke up too quickly. “It’s free besides us. Sit wherever you like.”
Draco frowned, remembering that Harry hadn’t grown up as a wizard, so he really had no way of knowing which families were important and which should be avoided as far as possible. Well, Draco would just have to explain it to him later.
“My name’s Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley.”
“I’m Harry. Harry Potter.”
Weasley’s jaw dropped, and Draco couldn’t help but smirk. Likely he wasn’t used to meeting a real celebrity. “Harry Potter? Really? Blimey. So you really–wow.”
“I don’t remember anything, though,” Harry said defensively.
“Oh, yeah, I guess not.” Weasley shifted uncomfortably. “So what house do you think you’ll be in?”
Harry glanced nervously over at Draco. “Um, I don’t–”
“Oh, you don’t know what the houses are, do you?” Weasley interrupted. “Well, there’s Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff–” Draco snorted at that, but the other two ignored him. “–and Slytherin, and Gryffindor..”
Draco raised his chin. “My whole family has been in Slytherin, and I’m sure I’ll be the same way.”
“Isn’t Slytherin the one Voldemort was from?” Harry asked. Weasley’s mouth fell open, and this time, Draco’s followed.
“You said You-Know-Who’s name!” Weasley hissed.
“Sorry.” Harry shrunk back into his seat.
“No, that’s, um, that’s okay.” Weasley’s voice sounded a bit strangled. “Um, anyway, my whole family’s been in Gryffindor, including all my older brothers, so I’ll probably–”
Draco snorted again, and both boys turned to look at him. He was surprised to find Harry glaring. Clearly he was a bit sensitive, so Draco would need to be more careful. Father always said it wouldn’t do to offend those with power or popularity.
But apparently he had already offended him, because Harry didn’t speak to him again. When the trolley witch came around selling snacks, Harry offered to share his with Weasley, then slowly, silently slid a couple treats over to Draco, as though he couldn’t afford to buy his own. Draco ignored him and selected his own sweets, then stared out the window and ignored the conversation and other students looking for something-or-other until they arrived at Hogwarts.
As they climbed off the train, a man called for all the first years. Draco looked up and saw the enormous groundskeeper ushering the first years into a bunch of boats. He supposed it made sense Harry would be a little defensive of him. If he really had performed transfigurative magic on a muggle, that was pretty impressive for a servant.
Harry and Weasley climbed into a boat together, and Draco followed before it got full. He leaned on the edge of the boat and stared up at Hogwarts. His father had wanted him to go to Durmstrang, which had sounded quite interesting whenever he described it, but as the castle loomed over them in the dark, stars surrounding them overhead and in the lake’s reflection, he couldn’t help but wonder if his mother had been right.
The boats passed through a tunnel and deposited them underground. Hagrid lit a torch and led them up the tunnel. Draco waited until Ron started a conversation with another boy in front of them about the stories they had heard of Hogwarts before grabbing Harry and pulling him to the back of the group.
“Why are you ignoring me?”
“I’m ignoring you?" Harry asked. “Just because I didn’t like how you were acting toward Ron? You’re the one who wouldn’t look at us and ignored when I tried to share my snacks.”
Draco folded his arms. “I can afford my own snacks.”
“What does that have to do with anything? I’ve never had friends to share anything with, and I’ve never had anything to share either! I was just glad to be able to, and you could have at least been nice about it!”
Draco studied him. He kept forgetting there was so much this boy didn’t know. His own father had taken much time to show him how best to use wealth to gain loyalty and influence. If Harry had never been taught those lessons, of course he could hardly be blamed, but they could discuss that later.
“Are we friends?” Draco asked. His father would be proud if he became friends with The Boy Who Lived.
“I would like to be friends,” Harry began carefully, “but Ron and Hagrid are my friends too, and I’m not going to be friends with anyone who’s mean to them.”
“You’re going to be friends with Weasley?”
Harry stiffened, and Draco fought the urge to sigh. Be careful indeed. “Yes, he seems nice, and I want to be his friend. What’s wrong with that?”
Draco hesitated, wondering how to say this gently. “It’s just . . . his father isn’t very well-respected. That family is full of blood traitors.” He hoped that even if Harry didn’t know the term, the tone would be clear enough.
“Why?”
Draco frowned. “Why what?”
“Why are they blood traitors?”
“Because they’ve turned their backs on wizarding tradition and associate with muggleborns and muggles. My father knows Weasley’s, and he says he works in a department specifically for dealing with muggle objects.”
“So? What’s the matter with muggles? My mum’s whole family are muggles. I mean, sure they’re rotten, but they’re probably the worst. There are good and bad muggles, just like there are good and bad wizards. And–and what if you were friends with a muggle? Or you wanted to get married to one? Would that make you a blood traitor?”
Draco flinched at that. Marry a muggle was not discussed at his house. There was a reason his mother never spoke to her sister.
Harry frowned. “Maybe that’s just something I don’t understand because I haven’t grown up with wizards, but that just seems mean to treat people bad because they don’t have any magic or they’re friends with people who don’t. I mean, my aunt and uncle hated me because I have magic, and I’m sure it must be just as bad the other way around.”
Draco opened his mouth to say that was because muggles were stupid and couldn’t tell that magic was a good thing, but Hagrid interrupted. Apparently they had reached the front doors.
“I want to make friends while I’m here,” Harry whispered as Hagrid checked to make sure everyone was ready. “And I want you to be one of them, but I don’t want to hang out with someone who’s mean to my other friends.”
Draco nodded. Fine. He could be civil enough to Weasley if it meant he would be friends with Harry. The first chance he got, he would write home about it. Father would be proud, and mother would be glad he had made a friend.
“Draco sent a letter,” Narcissa told her husband when he came into the living room.
“So soon?” Lucius asked, and Narcissa shot him a hard look. “There’s nothing wrong with that, of course. I’m simply surprised. I was glad to leave home my first year, and I never wrote at all unless it was necessary.”
“Yes, well, Draco is different. You know that.”
He nodded and sat beside her on the couch. “What did he say?”
Narcissa scanned the parchment. “He was sorted into Slytherin, he looks forward to his classes, and he’s become friends with Harry Potter.”
Lucius’s eyebrows shot up. “Harry Potter? Really?”
She dropped the parchment back on her lap. “Yes. We met him at the train station, and I had hoped they might become friends.”
He nodded. “The Boy Who Lived. That would certainly be beneficial–
“Do not ruin this for him. He’s never had the opportunity to make many friends, and he should have the chance to be a child for a while.”
“Yes, of course. I will not interfere. I only meant their friendship would look well.” She pursed her lips and gave a slight nod, then turned back to the letter to read it again.
Lucius knew he shouldn’t have said anything. She had been worrying for months about Draco going to school. She herself hadn’t made friends easily at Hogwarts, preferring to stick close to her older sisters instead. That hadn’t turned out well, and she was determined Draco would have a better experience.
He laid his hand over hers. “It will be alright. He already seems to be enjoying himself. I’m sure he will do well for himself at Hogwarts.”
“I hope so.”