Draco's First Year

Harry Potter rewritten from the perspective of Draco Malfoy.


1. The Acceptance Letter

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter - all to JK Rowling.

Before you read this, please know I am struggling to write like an eleven year old as my style is quite different; I’m trying to get some of the ideas of a brain that age (instead of the writing style) though! Also I’m sorry about the error in that Bellatrix would be in Azkaban when Draco was this age, so apologies for that. But we can just pretend otherwise for this scene – I’d already written it so didn’t want to go back and do it again. I’ll try to be more accurate in future. Be sure to give me any suggestions of what you want included in the writing (theories etc.) Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

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Mr and Mrs Malfoy were renowned to be two of the most important death eaters in all of England. They had a son – me – and I hoped that I too would soon be able to intimidate a room of people merely by pausing in the doorway.  I wanted to walk with regality, and talk with an important and condescending air that forces others to respect and listen to me. Out of loyalty, yet also out of fear.

Hogwarts was my opportunity. I have been stuck at home for countless years and now I can finally escape. Once I’m away from my parents I can do things my way. I will become a great man, a superior figure, and it should be easy to do so. Being a Malfoy means it’s in my nature – in my pure blood – to achieve great things, greater things than those around me. Or so I am told. I look up to my parents, but that doesn’t mean I always agree with them. It’s hard to when sometimes the boundaries between right and wrong get blurred in my mind. But I know I will get it right.

It was after months of pondering my freedom of Hogwarts when my letter finally arrived. Having waited so long, I was entirely prepared for the event and had planned what I would do. I would open the letter carefully, preserving the envelope, and once read would inform my parents. A good plan until I remembered I was far too excited to stick to a plan.

That morning the letter was passed to me through one of the house elves. I snatched it from them and shoved them away, eager to open it. On the front were swirls of emerald green ink that read:

‘Mr D. Malfoy

The Room at the End of the Corridor

Malfoy Manor


On the back was a purple wax seal bearing a familiar coat of arms: a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake surrounding a large letter ‘H’. This confirmed my suspicion: my Hogwarts acceptance letter had arrived! I tore open the envelope – I wanted it now; no savouring this anticipated moment. Inside was a folded yellowing paper titles ‘HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY’. The details of Dumbledore bored me so I skipped to the part beginning ‘Dear Mr Malfoy’. I felt a small accomplishment in this formal addressing as it was just like a letter for my father. Except it was to me, for me. I smirked at the paper with pride of this adult title. Anyway, the letter continued…

‘Dear Mr Malfoy,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress’

I never doubted it, but I was excited all the same. I was in! I ran to tell mother and father (though slowed when I remembered their disapproval of such “uncivilised behaviour Draco”.) Though I soon sped up again and slid round the corner bursting into the drawing room. I was about to call to them when I noticed our guest. My decelerating heels made a screech that shot to the other end of the room where the figure sat and I cursed myself for alerting attention in my direction. The woman sat in our deep green armchair by the ornate marble of our fireplace, her rugged black curls cascading over the seat and spurting off at different angles. Our walls are deep purple, so dark they appear like shadows wrapping the room in an ominous wallpaper of fear.

Three heads turned to me when I entered, each bearing a different expression. My father was frustrated, my mother disapproving but worst was my aunt. Her lips perked up at the corners and her eyes buzzed with amusement yet an all too familiar undertone of anger. I cowered backwards slightly. This woman scared the life out of me whenever she visited. I felt so small, so weak around her. I avoided her as much as I could. Yet of course this evil woman would be the one to turn up on my day of excitement, she’d be the one to ruin it.

“Draco…” she laughed with a creepy emphasis only she could manage.

“Not now dear,” my mother began before she was interrupted.

“Oh no sissy let Draco have a little chat.” My mother could see my aunt wouldn’t be satisfied unless I came to talk, and knew better than provoke her. I was beckoned over so I walked carefully across the cool wood. I blamed myself for getting into this though knew it was too late to back out today. I tried to appear composed, desperate to make an impression, but under her gaze just felt like the young boy I am. She wanted me to be like my parents, and I wanted that too. But each step I took reminded me of how petty I am compared to them, compared to my father. He was a great death eater, previously acquainted with Voldemort himself, and I hoped to follow in his footsteps someday. I just needed to grow a bit taller I think. Now close up, I felt a heavy pressure to talk. I began to explain why I had come to the room.

“I, I got a letter in the post. My letter for Hogwarts.” No one spoke so I continued. “It says we need to send a reply, I was just going to fetch my owl and do it.” All of this was said whilst looking at my mother, looking for help. Bellatrix gave a gentle cackle and my eyes tensed at the mere sound of it. Oh I just wanted to get out of there.

“Hogwarts! Ah ha”

“Slytherin no doubt.” My father continued.

My aunt murmured an unintelligible response and cast her arm off the chair in a sharp motion slicing the air next to me. She stretched outwards and pushed herself into a contorted shape before slumping back into the chair with a sigh. She was restless and I felt vulnerable being around her in her temperamental state. Though it is fair to say she was always in a temperamental state. She’s a dangerous woman, and Azkaban took its toll.

I was keenly dismissed – they had other things they wished to discuss. My aunt’s latest torture fascination for one. My parents try to hide some things but growing up surrounded by secrets has meant I’m pretty good at catching on to conversation. I’m familiar with that disturbing murderous glisten my aunt will have when she feels bored. Another reason to avoid her. She’s dangerous – though as long she is unprovoked she can be quite subdued when she comes to visit us especially as she only tends to come to talk to Mother (who has quite a calming influence over even the fiercest of death eaters.) That’s also why I’m so cautious – I don’t want to trigger anything. She’s fragile but in no way delicate – she’s fragile because the slightest thing could cause her to slip into Bellatrix Lestrange, the Azkaban escapee, the hunted death eater, the murderer. The sight of blood on her hands and her dress when she’s been out is something that can cause me to run.

I ran when I was dismissed too. I’m not important – and then I was glad of it. Once out of sight I broke into a sprint down the hall, up the stairs to the end of the corridor. I slammed the door shut. I knew no one would’ve seen me – the house was always in a deadly silence, and apart from our family it was empty (ignoring the elves of course.) Therefore I felt free to run and escape the encounter that left me feeling so trapped.

Once in my room I let out a breath of relief. First I placed the letter down in the centre of my desk. Then I re read it, checking each detail. I was content I knew all the details until I noticed a slip of paper left in the envelope. Carefully I removed it and discovered a list of necessary materials. Robes, books, a wand – everything I could need. That’s when I remembered – a wand! Finally my mother would let me have a wand! I tried to think where I needed to go to buy this stuff… Someone had mentioned it before… That’s it – Diagon Alley.

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