The Rising Sun: Chapter 2
A Harry Potter Fanfic
Potions class was the only one shared between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Draco made sure to arrive early and sit by Harry before Weasley got the chance on the first day.
I’m excited about potions," he said as he dropped into the seat. “Professor Snape is head of Slytherin house and a friend of my father’s. My father speaks highly of him.”
Harry bit his lip and glanced around. “I don’t think he likes me.”
“Why wouldn’t he like you? He hasn’t even met you yet.”
Harry shrugged. “He seems mad at me whenever I see him.
“You’re probably just imagining things.”
“Maybe.”
Professor Snape swept in, robes billowing behind him. He snatched up a scroll on the table and glared over it at ever student. Draco forced back a grin. This man knew how to make an entrance.
The scroll proved to be the class list, and the professor ran through it quickly until he reached Harry’s nam. “Ah, yes, Harry Potter. Our new celebrity.” Harry shifted uncomfortably until Professor Snape looked away and launched into a speech about what they could expect from his class.
“Potter!” Harry flinched. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”
“Uh . . .” Harry glanced at Draco, who shrugged. “I don’t know, sir.” A Gryffindor girl raised her hand, but Snape ignored her.
“Tut, tut. Fame clearly isn’t everything. Let’s try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?” The girl raised her hand again.
Draco knew that one. When Harry looked to him, he whispered, “stomach of a goat,” out of the corner of his mouth.
“The–the stomach of a goat, sir?”
Professor Snape frowned. “And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?” The girl shot to her feet, waving her hand in the air.
Harry looked at Draco again, but he didn’t have the answer. “I don’t know. I think Hermione does, though, so why don’t you try her?”
“Sit down,” the professor shouted at the girl. He took two points from Gryffindor for Harry’s “cheek” and for cheating.
“It’s not fair,” Harry complained as they left class. “You gave me the answer. How come he didn’t take points from you?”
Draco smirked. “Snape favors his house. Everyone knows that. I guess you should have just known the answers.” Harry stuck out his tongue at him. Draco stuck out his tongue right back.
“Harry! Hey, Harry!” Harry slowed down to let Weasley catch up. He grimaced when he noticed Draco walking with Harry, then turned away and ignored him. “Can I go with you to Hagrid’s?”
“Sure!”
“Hagrid’s? Why are you going to Hagrid’s?” Draco asked.
“He invited me for tea,” Harry explained, looking unnecessarily happy about the arrangement. “Do you want to come?”
Draco forced a smile, reminding himself that Harry didn’t appreciate his comments abo ut the groundskeeper. “I have homework. I’ll see you later.”
“How’s school going, Harry?” Hagrid asked after they had all settled with their tea and rock cakes.
“I like my classes,” Harry began, “but they’re so different than I’m used to, and a little tricky.” He scrunched up his face. “I don’t like potions, though. I think Snape hates me.”
Hagrid cleared his throat and glanced away. “Rubbish! Why would he hate you?”
“He asked me a bunch of questions most people didn’t know in front of everyone and completely ignored when Hermione raised her hand. Then when Draco tried to help me out, he took points from me for cheating, but didn’t take any from him.”
“That’s cause Malfoy’s a Slytherin,” Ron said, rolling his eyes. “I told you he goes easy on them.”
“Malfoy?” Hagrid asked. “What are you doing hanging around a Malfoy?”
“We’re friends,” Harry said. “Or at least, I want to be.”
Hagrid’s face grew dark, and Harry was certain he was about to list all the reasons Harry shouldn’t be friends with Draco. Why did all the wizards hate each other? Sure muggles had drama too, but it didn’t usually seem to be to this extent. Or maybe he just hadn’t paid enough attention.
“Be careful around him,” Hagrid said. “I don’t know anything about the book, but his father was one of You-Know-Who’s biggest followers.”
Harry felt a chill run down his spine.
“He and dad don’t get on because of it,” Ron explained. “Dad says when You-Know-Who disappeared, Mr. Malfoy claimed everything he did was under the imperius curse, but dad never believed him.”
“What’s the imperius curse?”
“It’s one of the unforgivable curses,” Hagrid explained. It lets a witch or wizard control someone else.”
“Oh, well, maybe he was under the imperius curse, then.” Both Hagrid and Ron looked at him dubiously. “And anyway,” Harry continued, “I’ve been telling Draco not to judge people based on their families, so I’m not going to do that to him.”
“Do whatever you want, Harry,” Hagrid said, “I’m just telling you to be careful.”
Draco was thrilled to have his first flying lesson. He couldn’t wait to show everyone his flying skills and hopefully have them realize first years should be allowed on the quidditch teams.
All the first year Slytherin and Gryffindor students gathered outside near a long line of broomsticks. Harry found one broomstick to stand by, and Draco and Weasley joined him on either side.
As soon as Madam Hooch told them to, Draco called, “Up.” The broom flew straight into his hand. To his surprise, Harry’s did the same thing. “I thought you’ve never flown before,” Draco whispered as other students shouted at their brooms.
“I haven’t,” Harry hissed back.
Madam Hooch showed them how to mount the brooms, which Draco had learned ages ago, so he waited patiently with his broom, waiting for everyone else to catch up.
She stopped in front of him. “You’re holding it wrong.” She demonstrated the proper way to hold it, and Draco quickly fixed his grip, then flushed and stared down at the ground.
Accidents were expected in flying, particularly during a first lesson, and no one was surprised it was Neville Longbottom, a rather clumsy Gryffindor, who got injured first. As Madam Hooch helped him up and led him back to the school, Draco spotted the little orb he had received that morning. It must have fallen from his pocket.
“Look! It’s that stupid thing Longbottom’s gran sent him!” Draco said. A couple other Slytherins laughed, and he grinned as he picked it up. He tilted his head as he studied it. “Maybe I should put it in a tree for him to find later.” A couple more students laughed, and his grin widened at the sound.
“Don’t be mean,” Harry said. “Give it to me, and I’ll give it to him later.”
Draco frowned and tossed the ball in the air and caught it a couple times. “Alright.” Harry held out his hand. “If you can beat me to the Astronomy tower,” Draco finished. He mounted his broom and flew just out of reach before Harry could react.
“Give it back, Draco.”
Draco tossed it up and caught it again. “You have to beat me first.” Harry frowned, but mounted his broom.
“No!” a bushy-haired Gryffindor shouted. “Madam Hooch told us not to move! You’ll get us all into trouble!”
Harry ignored her and flew up to meet Draco’s height. He reached for the rememberall, but Draco pulled back and grinned. “Ready? Go!”
He shot up in the direction of the Astronomy tower, and, to his surprise, Harry kept a level pace with him. Was this really his first time on a broom?
Draco’s broom started trembling, and he made a face. These school brooms were a piece of junk. If he had his broom from home, he could beat Harry in a heartbeat, but as it was, the other boy inched further and further past him until he touched the roof of the tower just seconds before Draco. He came to a stop and hovered next to the tower.
Harry grinned. “I win. Now give it here.”
“Fine, but if I had my broom, I would have won.”
Harry’s grin shifted into a smirk. “I’m sure. Now give me the rememberall.”
Draco handed it over right as his broom shivered again, jerking him a couple inches to the right. The rememberall slipped out of his grasp.
Before Draco could react, Harry dove for it. Draco followed, but there was no way he could catch up. He watched as Harry snatched it out of the air, then pulled back into a shallower angle and slowed down until he reached the ground. Draco landed a moment after him, already opening his mouth to ask how he had learned to fly a broom like that.
“Harry Potter!”
Every student stiffened as McGonagall stormed outside and launched into a lecture. Draco fidgeted with his broomstick and stared at the ground, waiting for her to move onto him, but she never did, instead marching Harry, and only Harry, back up to the castle.
The Gryffindor girl who had yelled at him before rounded on him as soon as McGonagall was out of earshot. “What were you thinking? Madam Hooch told us not to touch the brooms!”
“Why did you drop the rememberall?” Weasley asked. “Harry won fair and square. You told him you’d give it to him if he did!”
“I didn’t mean to drop it–”
“How is that what’s important here?” the girl asked Weasley, then turned back to Draco. “You shouldn’t have been flying at all!”
Draco looked down the row of Gryffindors glaring at him. He threw down his broom. “Whatever. I don’t need flying lessons anyway.” He stormed down to the lake.
Draco wandered over to the Gryffindor table during dinner, ignoring the stares and whispers. He found Harry whispering excitedly to Weasley, though he stopped as soon as Draco walked over. Draco picked at his robes and stared down at his shoes. “Sorry for getting you in trouble. I didn’t mean to.”
“That’s okay,” Harry said quickly. “But leave Neville alone and don’t take his rememberall again.”
“Yeah, okay, fine. But–you’re really not mad?”
Harry shook his head. “I didn’t get into trouble actually . . .”
“What do you mean?”
Harry grinned. “You’ll see. I’m not supposed to say yet.”
Draco rolled his eye. “Fine. I guess I’ll see you later.”
The next morning, a long, broomstick-shaped package arrived–for Harry.
He and Weasley leapt up from the Gryffindor table and ran out of the hall. Draco ran after them and heard them whispering s he caught up.
“What are you doing?” he asked. “First years aren’t allowed broomsticks. You’re going to get in trouble. There are better ways of sneaking one in than a poor wrapping job.”
Weasley rolled his eyes. “And I’m sure you know all about those, don’t you?”
“Yes, actually, I do.” He glanced at the package in Harry’s hands. “So what is it? A Comet? A Cleansweep?”
“A Nimbus,” Weasley said as proudly as if it had been his own. “A Nimbus Two Thousand.”
Draco’s jaw dropped.
“Hello, boys,” Professor Flitwick passed them and glanced at Harry’s package. “What have you got there?”
“Harry’s just got his new broom,” Weasley said, and Draco sighed. Had he not just heard him say first years couldn’t have brooms?
“Ah, yes. McGonagall told me about the special circumstances. What model is it?”
What?
“A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir,” Harry said.
Professor Flitwick nodded. “Very nice, very nice. Have fun with that, Potter.”
Draco gaped at the professor as he walked away, then whirled back around to Harry. “Special circumstances? What’s he talking about?”
Harry and Weasley exchanged a glance. “Wood told me not to tell anyone, so you can’t either, okay?” Harry asked.
“I won’t. Tell me.”
Harry grinned. “I’m the new Gryffindor seeker.”
Draco’s eyes widened. “You’re on the quidditch team?”
“Shhh!” Weasley hissed. “Not so loud!”
He lowered his voice. “But there hasn’t been a first year on the team–”
“In a hundred years, I know. I’m so excited.”
“You’re going to be amazing,” Weasley said. “I’m sure Gryffindor will win the Quidditch Cup this year.”
Draco folded his arms. “I wouldn’t go that far. You’ve lost–how many years again?”
Weasley didn’t answer that. “You’re just jealous.”
“I am not!”
Maybe a little.
“I’ve got to put this upstairs before class, Draco, but I’ll see you later!” Harry waved, then ushered Ron up the stairs.
“Troll–in the dungeons–thought you ought to know.” Quirrell fell to the ground and the Great Hall erupted in chaos.
“Troll? How did at troll get in?”
“Those things are vicious!”
“Everyone calm down. We can’t panic–”
“We’re all going to die!”
Fireworks exploded at the ceiling, drawing everyone’s attention and shutting them up.
“Prefects,” Dumbledore began, “lead your students back to the dormitories immediately.”
The Slytherin prefect stood up and ushered the younger students into a line, pretending not to hear their whispers.
“Did he say the dormitories?”
“Surely we’re not actually going down there!”
“What if we run into the troll?”
Draco couldn’t stop fidgeting. His housemates had clumped together with their friends, and he suddenly wished he had taken the time to make some friends in his own house. Involuntarily, his eyes were drawn over to Harry and Weasley, who had stopped and were whispering as the other Gryffindors walked away. He frowned.
“Alright, everyone stick together! Let’s go!” The clump of Slytherins started down the hall, and Draco worked his way to the edge, still watching Harry and Weasley, who suddenly darted off into the hall. When no one was paying attention, he slipped away as well. As he turned the corner, they came back into sight for an instant before ducking behind a statue.
“What are you doing?”
Weasley gasped, and Harry clapped his hand over the other boy’s mouth.
“We thought you were Percy,” Weasley whispered as he shoved Harry’s hand away.
“You didn’t answer my question. What are you–” Draco broke off as footsteps came down the corridor. Weasley grabbed his arm and dragged him behind the statue. They shrank back and pressed their backs against the wall, breathing shallowly to avoid discovery.
Professor Snape walked right past their hiding place and disappeared down another corridor. The boys glanced at each other, then slowly crept after him.
“What’s he doing?” Harry whispered. Draco shrugged.
“He’s heading up to the third floor–wait, do you smell something?” Weasley asked.
Well, yes, now that he mentioned it, there was a truly horrendous smell coming from–from–
Footsteps, heavy ones far too loud for any person to make, came towards them. Weasley pointed as a large shadow grew on the wall. They all shrank back and watched as the giant, grey figure approached, dragging a club along with it. Draco held his breath as it stopped and peered through an open door, then slowly wandered inside.
“The key’s in the lock,” Harry whispered. “We can lock it inside.”
“Good idea,” Weasley whispered back.
The two of them crept toward the room the troll had just entered. “What are you doing?” Draco hissed. “You’re going to get killed!” Neither turned around, instead they waved for him to follow.
He was going to die. He was going to die because he had thought it would be a good idea to follow two Gryffindors wandering off during a troll attack. He should have known better.
Holding his breath, he slid out from behind the statue and crept behind them. Harry reached the door, crouched, then leapt up, slammed the door, and turned the key.
“Yes!” Weasley cheered, and Draco let out a long sigh. They started back toward the dormitories before anyone realized they were gone.
“You two are probably the stupidest people I’ve ever met,” Draco said, shaking his head. “Did you come looking for the troll? Do you want to die?”
“Of course not,” Harry said. “We were looking for Hermione to warn her about the troll. Pavarti said she was crying in the bathroom.”
Draco frowned. Hermione . . . was that the bushy-haired girl who yelled at him during the flying lesson? “Why was she crying in the bathroom?”
“How should we know?” Weasley asked, though his face turned red, and he looked down at his shoes.
Someone screamed.
“Hermione,” Harry and Weasley said at the same time, then they turned around and ran back.
“Guys! Shouldn’t we find a professor?” Draco shouted, but they ignored him. “Fine, but if we die, I’m blaming you!” He ran after them.
Harry turned the key, and he and Weasley ran into the room. When Draco caught up, he found the troll knocking over sinks as it stumbled towards the first year witch. “Confuse it,” Harry said, and he threw a piece of pipe at the troll.
That caught its attention. Draco and Weasley took a step back as the troll turned towards them, then lumbered toward Harry.
“Oy, pea-brain!” Weasley shouted as he threw another broken pipe, giving Harry a chance to skirt around the troll and grab Hermione’s arm.
“Run–run!” Harry shouted, but she sat frozen, watching the troll in terror. It roared and lunged towards Weasley. Harry’s eyes grew wide, and he let go of the girl’s arm and ran for it, leaping up and onto the toll’s back. It howled again, and Draco took the opportunity to slide past it, unnnoticed, and reach her.
“Come on,” he hissed, and she shook her head slightly, eyes wide and fixed on the troll.
“Are you stupid?” he asked. “They’re giving you time to escape, and you’re just going to stay here and let us all be eaten?”
That worked. Hermione’s eyes slid over to him, and she lifted her chin, then slowly pushed herself up onto trembling legs. He dragged her along, and they inched past the troll, staying carefully out of sight.
“Wingardium Leviosa!” Weasley shouted, drawing Draco’s attention, and the troll’s club flew out of its hand and knocked it over the head. The troll swayed on its feet, then fell over in front of Harry and Weasley.
“Is it dead?” Hermione whispered.
“I think it was just knocked out.” Harry knelt down and fished–was that his wand?–out of its nose.
All four of them stared uncomfortably at the troll, then glanced up at each other, before several professors rushed in.
Professor McGonagall looked at each of them in turn, and Draco swallowed when her anger reach him. “What on earth were you thinking?” she asked. “Why aren’t you in your dormitories?”
“It’s my fault, Professor!” Hermione piped up, and all three boys turned to her. “They were looking for me. I thought I could deal with the troll on my own since I’ve read about them. If they hadn’t found me, I’d be dead, and they didn’t have time to go look for anyone.”
Draco glanced at Harry and Weasley, who were nearly gaping at the girl, and he wished he could tell them to shut their mouths. They were terrible liars.
“Well,” Professor McGonagall huffed. “I don’t know what you were thinking, Miss Granger, trying to take on a mountain troll by yourself. Five points from Gryffindor for this. Now go to your dormitory.” Hermione left, and the professor glanced at Draco, Harry, and Weasley. “And boys, five points to each of you. Not many first years could take on a full-grown mountain troll. You may go.”
They nearly ran out of the room and down the hallway.
“Thank goodness,” Weasley panted, slowing as they turned the corner. “I was sure we were all going to be punished.” He glanced at Draco and stopped. “Hang on, what were you doing wandering the halls if you weren’t looking for Hermione?”
Draco shrugged. “I saw you guys wander off, and I figured following you would be safer than going to the dormitories.”
“Safer?” Harry scrunched up his face. “Why safer?”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “Do you know where Slytherin dormitories are?”
Weasley’s eyes widened. “Surely not–”
“In the dungeons? Yes.”
“But–but–” he shook his head. “Maybe–maybe the troll was in a different set of dungeons.”
“Or maybe Dumbledore hates Slytherin like my father’s been saying for years.” Draco said. “One or the other.”
Weasley’s face twisted into a combination of confusion and what looked uncomfortably like pity. “Well–well thanks for coming with us, anyway.”
Draco glanced away and shrugged one shoulder. “It’s not like I really did anything.”
“But you came,” Harry said. “That’s something. So thanks.”
Draco gave a tentative smile. “Well, thanks for taking care of the troll so I didn’t have to.” Harry and Weasley laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“See you tomorrow,” Harry waved cheerfully. Weasley didn’t say anything, but he gave a small smile and raised his hand in a not-quite wave.
Next chapter coming soon!