Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1: The Conceit of Draco Malfoy

***All characters, places, objects, ect. related to the Harry Potter Books belong the J.K. Rowling*** This is my 1st fic so bare with me. As you read in the summary, this story is a tale of Harry and Draco and their haphazard soul switching, which leaves them both in control of each other's lives. The following is the Chapter One. I will try to update with new chapters as often as possible. Comments and suggestions are welcome. Toodles! :)  
  
Chapter 1: The Conceit of Draco Malfoy.  
  
Draco stood in front of the crystal clear mirror in the Slytherin boy's bathroom. He was posing firmly, as if someone were standing behind the glass snapping photos of him to be printed in the Daily Prophet. He smiled nonchalantly revealing a gorgeous set of teeth, well cared for like the rest of his 5 foot 4 inch tall body. Seldom did anyone ever see Draco smilingly so innocently. Usually he wore a devious scowl on his pale face, that's what he was known for. His fiendish behavior was that of all the Malfoy men. Cunning and brave with the wit of a true pureblood wizard-that was their motto. "Oh Draco, you are a handsome one indeed," he said slyly as he examined his flawless face and his stone gray eyes that displayed the burning fire within. No one had the look of Draco Malfoy; his platinum blonde hair sleeked back ever so perfectly, the trim, but manly figure he had sculpted out of 4 years of being on the Slytherin House Quidditch Team, dressed impeccably in emerald green robes, and the walk of a confident young man who would someday be a great leader. It was this that made everyone's eyes smolder with jealousy as they watched him prey on the weak and naïve with his tenacious attitude. To the many who knew not of his greatness, they thought of him like a vampire, but he was not hungry for blood, he was hungry for power. That is why a lot of his peers feared him. For his few followers, they dare not cross the path of the wickedness inside of him. He pitied not the Mudbloods and imbeciles that gained his distrust. Just his name alone struck fear into them. Draco Malfoy; the way it rolled of their tongues and stifled the air with the scent of evil As he glanced in the mirror once more, he straightened his robes and wiped the smile of purity off his face and replaced it with a smirk. He knew he was too good for Hogwarts. Malfoys were royalty; far superior then the rest. No one would every be as great as Draco Lucius Malfoy-no one.  
  
*~*A/N-Short, but sweet, eh? There's plenty more where this came from. Next up, Chapter 2.*~* 


	2. Chapter 2: The Reflections of Harry Pott...

Sorry this took so long, but I actually forgot that I wrote this like a month ago. Teeheehee... Enjoy! :)  
  
Chapter 2: The Reflections of Harry Potter  
  
While Draco stood fawning over himself in the Slytherin Chambers, Harry stretched out by the lake under the milky blue sky. Surrounding him was nothing but the plush green grass and his own reflections on life. None of his friends every knew it, but some nights, when he would be plagued with insomnia, Harry would slide under the comfort of his Invisibility Cloak and sneak out onto the Hogwart's Grounds and sit by the lake under the midnight sky. It was the closest thing to comfort he had felt his whole life. Out there, he wasn't judged for being "The Famous Harry Potter" or expected to be courageous and save the day. It was his escape; his freedom. No one ever knew how much he hated himself. They always saw him as the boy winning everyone over with the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. It irked him that he was pitied because of his parent's death. Harry was far past the point of mourning. He accepted that they weren't there, at least not physically. That night he sat in front of the Mirror of Erised, staring in amazement at the apparition of his parents, James and Lily, he now wished it had never happened. He was better of not seeing them. It was painful, but Harry dealt with it. He had dealt with a lot. Life wasn't easy for him, and he was well aware of this, but he never wanted sympathy from anyone. He knew there were people worse off then he was. He should have felt privileged to have brought the Dark Lord to his demise and be "The Boy Who Lived", but what's all that worth when he couldn't find true happiness? Sure, Ron and Hermione brought him joy; they were his 2 best friends in the world, in fact, the only people he trusted not to stab him in the back. The rest of those who "knew" him were just there so they could someday tell their children and grandchildren that they knew the famous Harry Potter. It sickened him to think that he really couldn't trust anyone. Most kids secretly resented Harry's sudden popularity at Hogwarts. They thought he was arrogant and eager for attention. That was the one thing he loathed about being there. The rolling of the eyes and the Here-We-Go-Again-With-Potter-And-His-Amazing-Powers sigh whenever his named was mentioned, in a way that would flatter most people. But it's hard to be flattered when the jealous eyes of your peers are starring you down. These times spent by the lake weren't the only thing Harry found to soothe the distraught of being him. There was also Quidditch, the fast-paced sport that let Harry run away from his troubles and clear his mind, even if just for a short while. He loved the games with an undaunted passion. It kept him occupied and like his secret rendezvous with the starry sky under Hogwarts, it made him feel liberated.   
  
Can you see the angst? Just like in Book 5. Bwahahaha! Next Chapter, there is some Draco/Harry interaction. :) 


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Harry Potter, Adventure, Angst