Fanfic: Slytherin Lords by MoonDagger (Free to read, 564,411Clicks)

Description:

Draco Malfoy, was born being a young lord, was born with a mental power that far surpasses Occlumancy and Legimancy, he is sent to Hogwarts with his father’s Mission to discover the truth behind the Potters and the Boy-Who-Lived, with the aim of fixing the reputation of his family and making the rumors spread by James Potter and Lily Potter that they were Death Eaters, disappear.

Characters:

UnderageDraco Malfoy/Harry Potter Draco Malfoy & Harry PotterDraco Malfoy Harry Potter Ron Weasley Hermione Granger Weasley Family (Harry Potter) Malfoy Family (Harry Potter) Potter Family (Harry Potter) Original Potter Family Characters (Harry Potter) Minerva McGonagall Albus Dumbledore Severus Snape Quirinus Quirrell Rubeus Hagrid Lily Evans Potter James Potter Sirius Black Remus Lupin Lucius Malfoy Narcissa Black Malfoy Pansy Parkinson Theodore Nott Blaise Zabini Gregory Goyle Vincent Crabbe Slytherin Students Gryffindor Students Ravenclaw Students Hufflepuff StudentsNot Canon Compliant Alternate Universe Alternate Universe – Soulmates Alternate Universe – More Magic Magically Powerful Harry Potter Magically Powerful Draco Malfoy dark themes Abusive Parents Emotional Manipulation Manipulative Relationship Manipulation Manipulative Albus Dumbledore Dark Albus Dumbledore Severus Snape And Minerva McGonagall Are Deputy Directors Of Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy And Harry Potter Trained And Powerful Other Additional Tags to Be Added Slytherin Harry Potter Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry Good Severus Snape Good Lucius Malfoy Good Parent Lucius Malfoy Good Narcissa Black Malfoy Good Parent Narcissa Black Malfoy

Summary:

Summary:

Draco Malfoy, was born being a young lord, was born with a mental power that far surpasses Occlumancy and Legimancy, he is sent to Hogwarts with his father’s Mission to discover the truth behind the Potters and the Boy-Who-Lived, with the aim of fixing the reputation of his family and making the rumors spread by James Potter and Lily Potter that they were Death Eaters, disappear.But when he discovers that Albus Potter is neither a young lord, nor the Boy-Who-Lived as legend has it, and meets Albus’ twin brother, Harry Potter, he realizes that there are many more things to discover.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.),Notes:

I had to delete the work from my main account, I have had problems with my account, I have not been able to upload the 5 chapter of my main account for that, but I am working on that.

Chapter 1: Mistakes

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 1

MISTAKES.

 
“So, Harry,” sounded his father’s voice, Harry stopped  pull his things to look at him, Albus had already crossed platform 9¾ a long time ago. 
“Do you remember what we talked about?” Said James, his father reached over to smooth his bangs, hiding the scar on his forehead.
“All that matters is Albus.” Harry said, smiling at that thought. 
“And that means what?”
“It means that I must protect and support him, guard him from getting into trouble, and keep him away from unwanted people.”
“Very well.” His father smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead. “You know how easy it is for your brother to get into trouble.”
“But for the love of Merlin!” His mother, Lily, stepped out from behind his father to look at Harry in horror and his father in deep anger.
“Why, in Merlin’s name, does Harry look like this?! And your glasses or…” His mother shook her head. “Where is Albus?”
“He should be on the train to Hogwarts by now, Lily, calm down.” His father said, rolling his eyes in Lily’s direction, then looked back at Harry, “I promise we’ll send you new clothes and glasses when they finish classifying you in Gryffindor, Harry.”
“I will write to you soon.” Harry offered, as he walked away in the direction of the brick wall.
“Harry?”
Harry blinked, for a moment he thought he had heard his father’s voice, but he had said goodbye to him when he got on the train.
Instead, he saw Albus grinning at him as a boy, who had introduced himself as Ron Weasley, seemed to be choking on the horrible taste of a “Bertie Botts Bean All Flavours” candy.
“That was delicious,” Albus offered, laughing as Ron seemed to want to tear his tongue out.
“At least yours didn’t taste like vomit.” Ron said, then he pulled out a chocolate frog and caught it with necessity, putting it in his mouth.
Harry looked at him in amazement of Albus’s ease of socializing, he let the questions float over him carelessly without caring, he had never had friends who were not friends with Albus, especially now that they would enter Gryffindor, his job would be to be there for Albus and follow him without question, those were his parents’ words and Harry knew he had to follow them. 
The compartment door opened, then a silver blond boy dazzled above the doors in robes that Harry knew perfectly well as Slytherin robes, which reminded him that he had to change soon.
“You are the Child of Madame Malkin’s, right?” The boy asked, with the bored tone and expressionless look that Harry knew perfectly well, was Pureblood.
Albus nodded, and Harry saw Ron’s look of contempt. 
But, as Harry would think, the boy’s gaze was not directed at Albus at all, but at him.
“My name is Draco-
-Malfoy” Ron hissed.  
“My name is Draco Malfoy, I forgot introduce myself to Madame Malkin, it was nice talking to you and I hope we can get along at Hogwarts.” Draco finished, while ignoring Ron’s look of hatred. 
Harry was surprised when the boy held out his hand to him, not to Albus, but to him.
He was offering him his friendship, a Malfoy.
Harry had heard through his father’s mouth that the Malfoy were very self-centred, vain and proud people, with sharp tongues who would never dare to reach out, as a symbol of friendship, to someone who was not of their kind.
And there he was, a Malfoy, friendship him his hand as a symbol of friendship.  
Harry knew that, on top of the fake friendliness, it was probably just a political arrangement as most friendships between purebloods were, and that arrangement would be useless if the Malfoy befriended the wrong brother.
But, a part of him wanted to accept, he had never had a friend who was explicitly his, they were all friends of Albus.

Because all that matters is Albus. 

However, before Harry could simply accept or reject, Ron Weasley grunted and Albus pulled Draco’s hand away abruptly.
Harry looked on in outrage, Draco’s grin had turned into a wince as his hand slammed into the compartment door. 
“This is my friend Ron,” Albus hissed, and And Harry saw Draco’s seething hatred in his eyes. “And This is my brother Harry, you didn’t talk to him in Madame Malkin, it was with me, Ron and I know perfectly who you are, don’t think that he or I would be friends with someone like you.” 
Harry had been trained enough in pureblood beliefs and behaviour, he knew something was going to happen, a curse, a purist insult, something that would make Albus flinch.
But he didn’t even have time to put up his barriers, Regardless of that, Draco just gave Albus a hateful look that made him wince, and then smiled at Harry, before leaving the compartment again.
Harry looked puzzled, there was no reason why Draco kept trying, he could perfectly insult them, even if it was a political arrangement. 
Harry had heard, from his father’s rants when they had talked about the sacred 28, that the Malfoy would curse anyone who dared to bother them, but this was the opposite of behaviour.
His father and mother had trained him in the customs they grew up with, Harry had to know when it would be necessary to intervene for his brother, pure blood or not.
Harry had to know posture and image (although he wasn’t counting on that at the moment, his parents hadn’t had time to buy his clothes, plus Harry would fix his glasses and change afterwards anyway.)
Harry had to know how the purebloods acted, how they spoke and how they organized their lives, he had to be the political hand that intervened for his brother when he arrived at Hogwarts and make sure that he doesn’t get too close to those who, according to his parents’ knowledge, were not a good influence on Albus. The Malfoy, despite being the most famous and important family of the sacred 28 ones, were under the sights of their parents, certainly the rumours that they were Death eaters still roamed the magical world.
But, this boy who had introduced himself as Draco Malfoy, did not seem to be the son of self-centred and ruthless Death eaters, he even seemed to be more like Harry himself used to describe himself.
Then Harry would have to apologize to him, Albus’s attitude was unjustified and Harry knew it, he would have to take the blank look and diplomatic voice just as he had been taught to do so. 
“He’s just a pompous jerk, Harry, don’t worry about him, plus you know what Mom and Dad say about them,” Albus said, glaring at Harry with abandon as Ron nodded awkwardly.
“Still, Albus, that was Unnecessary, you could have been less rude.” Harry repressed. Albus glared at him and Harry just rolled his eyes as he exited the compartment, ignoring the incredulous looks from both boys.
Draco had prepared his mind, magic, body and soul for any kind of problem.
He had trained since he was of age to do so.
Draco had trained himself in the keen Self-empathy of a Malfoy, in the ambitious cunning of a Slytherin, and in the magical ability of a Young Lord.
He had to, really, couldn’t afford any kind of mistakes.
In the magical world, there was a difference between a normal wizard or witch, and a lord or lady.
And anyone who knew that difference would know that those like the Hogwarts Heads of House could be regarded as lords, whether they were of light or of darkness. A lord was one whose magic core was mature and powerful, who made his magic powerful, since the wizards and witches who were heads of the house had trained in the arts of magic for many years to be strong enough.
But there were also those who were born as lords, whose cores were already strong even before their magic manifested, and grew over time unnaturally.
Voldemort, was a clear example of a lord of darkness, and Dumbledore, was a clear example of a lord of light. 
But Draco knew, that his life would never be the same after discovering that he was a young Lord.
His parents confessed to him after his first accidental magic show, Draco was different from other wizards, Draco was special.
He knew it from the moment those silver flames had reduced that wooden horse to more than ashes.
But of course, no one could know the truth, and his parents had made sure of that, they had trained him since that day, because if he didn’t, if people got the truth, if Draco allowed himself the slightest mistake, then the wizards and witches affected by the first war would be standing outside the mansion, shouting “Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy are the parents of the new Dark Lord.” 
And Draco had braced himself for any kind of idiocy, of course, and he also knew how to make up for his mistakes.
He had been preparing himself ever since he had seen Albus Potter, the so-called Boy-Who-Lived, walk into Madame Malkin and Draco felt absolutely nothing. 
Feeling magic was a common skill in normal witches and wizards, but it was a completely different thing to feel magic straight from the core, because that meant that Draco could access the wizard’s magic core, manipulate the core, and of course, absorb that magic straight from the core. 
It was a dark gift, of course, Draco knew after Snape assured him, he had been drinking his godfather’s magic and Draco didn’t know it, but he had felt it. 
So Draco had trained to keep his mind off, to keep his gift asleep, they had taught him to protect his mind with Occlumency, to create the shields and private altars in which wizards and witches immerse and protect their memories, feelings and secrets.
And Draco had learned to turn those altars into their own homes, to turn those shields into barriers, to reinforce and extend them, wrap them in chains and spikes, and even turn them into weapons if necessary. 
Of course, Draco would be vaguely able to ignore his magic and if it was too much then he would just plunge into one of his pools of Occlumency.
But then, why had Draco felt absolutely nothing, when the so called Boy-Who-Lived had stood next to him, the boy who murderous Voldemort, the boy who had survived a killing curse intact.
He was supposed to be a young lord, that the legends said that that boy with yellow eyes like gold would save the world from the despair of the dark lord.
But Draco had felt absolutely nothing, he had rambled in response to what the reason would be.
But then he felt an infinite and embracing warmth, like the last summer wind, and he knew that it was someone’s magic, and it couldn’t be more than that of the Boy-Who-Lived.
“Finally, an answer.” Draco had thought, when he had stopped at the compartment door. 
Draco had prepared his mind, magic, body and soul for any kind of problem, but he had never prepared for what came next.
Draco had expected the Potter to be sitting with a Weasley, after all the Potter and Weasley were close families, and Draco had recognized the bloody locks of red hair through the blurred glass.
But he don’t expect to find out that the magic he had been feeling, warm and tall and imposing, was not from Albus Potter, the boy from the legends.
That magic, warm, tall and imposing, belonged to the boy sitting next to him, with the lightning bolt scar, emerald green eyes, worn glasses and baggy clothes.
That was the real Boy-Who-Lived, not Albus Potter, not the boy of legend, and Draco had made a mistake trying to talk to him.
“Wow,” Draco thought. “The Potters have done many things.” 
Draco had made a mistake, and had trained himself enough to know that he couldn’t make mistakes.
“Ron and I know perfectly well who you are” Draco cursed again in his mind, feeling the curses on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t allow himself to lose his cool, not now, and even with all his hatred boiling inside him, Draco just submerged it all in one of its many pools of Occlumency.  
His hand still ached from the abrupt blow he had taken when the damn fake Boy-Who-Lived had abruptly pushed his hand away, just by looking at the bruise that was forming, Draco could remember the pain when his soft alabaster skin smashed against the cold, dirty metal of the compartment door.
It would probably heal him later, but he had been too busy diving in that he no longer remembered how long he had been standing in the middle of the abandoned corridor.
But then a warm sensation flooded the room, Draco could feel the pure magic envelop and cradle him. 
“Hello,” And there he was, the Boy-Who-Lived, standing behind him.
Draco stared in fascination, his magic wrapping around him, He nowcould feel the warmth and when those green eyes were lost in his Draco wanted to lower his shields and feel for once the tender magic of that boy flowing through him. 
“I’m very sorry about what happened there,” Harry said, and Draco blinked, snapping out of his trance.
He was amazed at how the boy’s sweet words seemed to be contradicted by the bored expression and the expressionless face, the upright posture and the calm and calm tone of voice, it was exactly the same form a pureblood would take.
“My brother didn’t have to react like that,” Harry said softly, looking in the direction of the back of Draco’s hand, uh winced at the bruise.
“Can I?” Harry asked, holding out his hand for Draco to shake his hand and heal it.
Freshmen couldn’t know healing spells, and for the most part, their nuclei weren’t strong enough to handle them.
Draco obeyed, and when he linked his hand to Harry’s, he whispered a healing spell.
Then golden strands wrapped around Draco’s hand, shiny and thin, tucked under the skin between Harry’s hand and then the bruise began to fade.
“My name is Harry Potter,” Harry offered. “Again, I’m sorry about that, I don’t know what happened there, my brother usually isn’t like that.”
Draco smiled in amazement at the boy’s ease in lying, He now knew perfectly well that this boy knew pureblood customs too well. 
Harry nodded, but before the handshake was released… 
“Hey,” Draco whispered, then pulled the boy close enough so that his mouth was even with his ear.
“One would think,” Draco smirked. “That the Potters would give their children clothes that at least fit, I bet you’re wearing your brother’s old clothes.”
When Draco got far enough to see Harry’s eyes, he saw the discomfort behind the cold, blank stare. 
“Oculus reparo,” Draco said lazily, and shiny silver strands wrapped around his glasses, emerging from the tip of his wand and repairing the cracks in the glass, enlivening the golden colour of the previously brown.  
first-year witches and wizards cannot do wandless repair magic.
Draco smirked as the boy’s blank gaze turned into pure amazement, Harry blinked, something Draco attributed to the consequence of being able to see well again.
“You should change before we get to Hogsmade,” Draco offered. “You don’t want people to see you and think you’re a Weasley.”
Harry glared at him before nodding, Draco smirked to himself and released his hand, he could still feel the other boy’s magic tingle under his skin.
“Dear Father,” He thought, as he walked away. smirking at the little moan that escaped Harry. “This year there will be a Potter in Slytherin.”

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