Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything relating to Harry Potter

Summary: Draco Malfoy had always thought his secret was safe for how could anyone outsmart a genius? Not really sure what the Sorting Hat has to do with anything, Draco is forced into a reluctant friendship of sorts dealing with the mayhem that could only be Harry Potter.


I Know

Chapter One

If there was one thing that Draco Malfoy disliked he would say idiots, it really was too bad he was surrounded by them.

Glancing around, grey eyes took in the revolting actions of his House. Crabbe and Goyle were busy stuffing their faces, no mind to the higher standards of etiquette of their blood status. The two goons were meant to act like body guards, yet they were not aware of their surroundings if a threat were to appear.

Draco knew he could take care of himself, but he couldn't help but think how sad it was that Crabbe and Goyle were even useless as brawn.

Pansy Parkinson was a different type of stupid. Although the young woman had some smarts, she never used them. It was always, "How do I look?" or "I can't wait until we're married." Draco anticipated the moment when he could free Parkinson from her delusions. It was true that his parents would be happy if he settled with Pansy but that wasn't the type of life he wanted; he would not end up like his parents.

If Draco was to be fair, he thought practically everyone was an idiot. It wasn't really their fault, he was a genius, but when comparing others to himself he found them to be lacking.

There were many different kinds of idiots. Looking at the rest of the Slytherins Draco couldn't help but feel their worthlessness. They believed everything their parents threw at them without any support to back up their reasoning.

His thoughts turned to the Gryffindors and couldn't help but think they were similar to Slytherins. Although Slytherins were force feed the idea of superiority since their birth, Gryffindors were given a skewed idea of good and evil. If both sides were not so judgmental Draco doubted that their House rivalry would have lasted.

Ravenclaws were interested in knowledge, a sentiment he could relate. The problem was that their thirst was restricted to getting good grades. The Claws lacked the ambition needed to use their intelligence. It was nice and all to have the best grades, but the insight to apply the knowledge was a different matter entirely.

Draco didn't understand the Hufflepuffs. Everyone thought that the house was made up of the loyal and friendly, the house had so many different types of people it was more of like the dumping of the less significant.

Grey eyes narrowed slightly as he observed the badger house. It irked him that he could not place the Puffs into a certain category, most of all Harry Potter.

When Draco had first met the Boy-Who-Lived, two years prior, he had thought for sure he was made for Gryffindor. It had been quite a surprise to the population of Hogwarts when the boy had been sorted into Hufflepuff.

Draco had always been fond of puzzles, he was quite good at them if he said so himself. The problem was that Potter had all the traits of a Gryffindor; it still mystified Draco how Potter had ended up as a Hufflepuff.

Potter was a bit difficult to solve, but Draco never gave up once he set his mind to something, he was after all a Slytherin.


Draco had to admit that he was a bit curious. At first he had been a tad annoyed at the questioning of his intelligence. He hoped Potter didn't really expect for him to fall for such a novice ploy, in fact he doubted anyone in Slytherin would have fallen for such a see through act. He couldn't help but wonder if there was more to the confrontation than met the eye.

Flashback

After a particularly boring History of Magic class Draco had been on his way to the library. He was in the middle of studying the theory of time paradox, wondering how he would be able to get his hands on a time turner. He had seen through Granger's attempts to keeps hers secret two days before and couldn't help but be interested.

Drifting through the sea of students Draco was suddenly aware of a hand on his shoulder and the brief whisperings of, "I know" before they were gone.

It had been obvious who had said the words even though Draco could not find a trace of his black mop of hair in the surrounding crowd.

End Flashback

Draco didn't know why the two words unnerved him so. It was an obvious trick; a simple blackmail technique that used paranoia against the victim, who would then admit previously unknown information. It was a similar technique to one of Draco's favorite pastimes. Draco would go up to a witch any age over twenty-five and claim he knew of the affair. It had been a game of his to gage how they would react; sometimes even bribing him quiet.

It just wasn't Potter. The Harry Potter he knew would have just confronted him to his face, not try to guilt him into blackmail. Sure they were "rivals", but Draco knew the other boy well enough to know of his Gryffindor pride, technically minus the Gryffindorness.

There had to be something he was missing.


He was annoyed. Not an unfamiliar feeling, but not altogether welcome, either.

Draco had been following Potter around for over a week and was no closer to solving the meaning of the whispered words.

It wasn't the time that annoyed Draco, for he was patient, extremely patient when he wanted to be. It was just that Potter was so damn boring.

The Boy-Who-Lived was so exasperatingly boring that Draco wanted to scream in frustration. Potter was currently in the midst of talking with the Fat Friar. Did the Hufflepuff really have nothing better to do than talk to the dead?

It had been like this all week. Any chance Draco had to spy on Potter ended up with him almost in tears, probably from yawning so much, if Malfoys yawned, which they certainly did not.


It wasn't until another three days passed that Draco finally got an inkling of a clue.

He had stopped following Potter, figuring if the other boy wanted his attention than he would have to supply more fuel. Just as Draco figured, Potter rose to the bait. People could be so predictable.

Draco had once again been observing the other students at dinner when he met the gaze of the raven haired boy. After giving him a pointed look Potter quickly excused himself from the table and left. Not one to let an opportunity pass him by, Draco waited a few minutes and then followed.

Looking around the corridor Draco spotted the hem or a robe entering a classroom that had once been used for dueling practice. It had been very popular a few decades ago but had disbanded after a student had died.

Draco was cautious as he surveyed the room, it was curious that Potter would pick a dueling stage, although the room looked more useful collecting dust in its current state.

Potter had placed himself in direct sight from the door, sitting casually on the edge of the stage with his legs dangling. He was throwing his wand in the air and catching it with ease, a habit that Draco personally thought would get him killed one day.

The door shut with a click behind him and he could easily detect the silencing charm that Potter casted.

Feeling his curiosity rise Draco waited for the other boy to speak; a game a Slytherin always won.

Potter didn't last but a minute before he finally spoke, "I've known for a while, you know, but I was hesitant to approach you before now."

"If you expect me to be able to translate your stupidity you have another thing coming," he replied, trying to rile Potter into giving something away.

"We don't have to play games, I plan on telling you everything, for something in return of course," Potter supplied, still throwing his wand in the air before catching it.

Of course Potter wanted something. Draco knew that he must be a bit desperate to come up with such an awful scheme, but was once again willing to wait it out.

Draco won the second round of silence as Potter blew the hair out of his eyes in frustration. "It's really not a big deal, Malfoy. I'll keep your secret, that's what friends are for, right?"

Draco blinked. Potter was a little delusional; he obviously did not know what the term friendship meant.

Draco had manipulated their relationship since the robe fitting, playing the part of an aristocratic brat going to Hogwarts. On the train he had purposely antagonized Potter's acquaintance, the Weasel, knowing that Potter would turn down his offer of friendship. He could then report to his father, with witnesses that he had tried to get into the good graces of Potter, but had not been able to convince the blood traitor. How any of that, plus the verbal and some physical confrontations of the past two years equaled friendship, Draco could not comprehend.

"We are not friends, Potter. I have—"

"—I can tell you're still bitter about the train incident. I completely understand your hurt, Draco. Everyone wants to be the great Harry Potter's friend. It's okay now, this is your chance."

It was very hard for the Slytherin to calm his emotions. Potter had not only interrupted his insult, but really thought that Draco cried himself to sleep over his lost friendship with a Hufflepuff!

"I do not want to be your friend Potter. It is true that I once attempted an offer of friendship, but after you turned down the offer I have completely disregarded the notion. You can go and tell my secret for all I care, not that I believe you have anything on me."

Potter had stopped throwing his wand in the air to study Draco. So Potter was not as at ease as he would have liked Draco to think.

Draco smirked, "I knew you had nothing. I really don't have much more time to waste on the likes of you." He had put so much into this puzzle for nothing. Draco really did dislike idiots.

"I know you've been watching me for the last seventeen days. You shouldn't be so obvious, not very Slytherin of you."

So Potter had known. It was true that he had been slightly obvious at his attempts to spy on Potter, but he hadn't really expected the Hufflepuff to catch on. "It was a small curiosity. I didn't feel like wasting too much time on you, and your failed plan to blackmail me," Draco calmly replied.

Emerald eyes met his gaze searching for a weakness; Potter was so see through it was pathetic.

Draco took back his thoughts at Potter's next words, "Does your father know how intelligent you are? I very much doubt it. I would expect that he would be bragging about it to every other pureblood family, and since it seems that no one else is any wiser I concluded that he doesn't know." Potter was looking at him expectedly now, once again throwing his wand up and catching it.

For the first time Draco was drawing a blank. How did Potter know? He wanted to be angry, but he couldn't feel anything but nervousness. He could always feign being clueless, but he could tell Potter wouldn't let it alone. Potter knew.

"What do you want?"

Potter smiled. Draco wanted to tear his lips right off his face. The Hufflepuff could really get on his nerves.

"Draco, Draco, Draco. I've already told you what I want, can't you figure it out," Potter sang.

Draco had never understood why the Dark Lord was so obsessed with killing the boy, now it was suddenly perfectly clear.

"Just tell me," Draco said through clenched teeth. It was getting harder for him to not hex the raven haired nuisance. It would be easy to obliviate him, but Draco didn't know how much he needed to obliviate. Killing him was not too smart of an idea either. Draco didn't want Dumbledore on his back for getting rid of his boy wonder.

Draco was interrupted from his scheming as the other boy replied, "I just want to be friends."

Potter wanted to be friends. Draco had obviously heard wrong. No one guarded a life or death secret with the interest of friendship. Sure, friends would do that sort of thing but not people that hated each other.

"You just want to be friends? Stop kidding around Potter, what do you want?"

Potter caught his wand and gave Draco a piercing look. "That's the condition. We are now the bestest of friends and I will keep your secret, simple really."

If Potter wanted to play this game, so be it. As long as the other boy kept his secret he would play along. Soon he would find out how much Potter knew and obliviate him. It really was simple.

"I accept," Draco announced. It wasn't like he had much choice.

Potter stuck his hand out which Draco readily grasped and shook. It was more of a muggle gesture, but so was Potter.

"Do you want to know how I figured it out?" Potter asked, looking at him curiously.

Potter really was dense giving up all the information upfront, but who was Draco to complain.

"I suppose," he answered. No use in showing Potter how interested he was.

"If you really want to know, the Sorting Hat told me. I mean I suspected it but he confirmed my suspicions," Harry said nonchalantly.

The sorting ceremony had happened over two years ago, and the hat had not even touched his head before he was sorted. There was no time for the hat to glimpse his thoughts and figure out his intellect. The fact that Potter had used his sorting time to ask about him was ridiculous, although Potter did have a long sorting. Why wouldn't Potter have confronted him earlier? Why would he wait more than two years? It didn't make any sense.

"Could you at least come up with a better lie? Really Potter, the Sorting Hat?" Draco thought the other boy was not only an idiot, but slightly mad.

"It's the truth," the other boy whined, "I wouldn't lie to you. Oh! Maybe I better start at the beginning."

"That would probably be helpful. You should have done that in the first place!" Draco was getting more annoyed. He was afraid if he stayed with Potter too long, his IQ would start to drop.

Potter's voice broke Draco out of his thoughts, "You might want to sit down it's a pretty long, practically my whole life story actually."

Draco stifled his sigh of frustration. "I thought you said you found out from the Sorting Hat. Why do I have to listen to your whole life, can't we just skip to the sorting ceremony?" Like he wanted to hear the pampered life of the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Everything I tell you will explain my conversation with the Sorting Hat, so yes; you have to listen to the whole story."

Draco knew he would have to subject himself to Potter's prattling. It wasn't like he didn't have to sit through painfully boring situations before. Remembering the last seventeen days, Draco figured this couldn't be any worse. With a heavy heart, Draco gestured for Potter to start his story, wishing he had never come across this particular puzzle.


3 Years Before:

Albus Dumbledore, for the first time in 9 years, decided that maybe Arabella Figg was not the best resource to keep a look out on Harry Potter.

When Albus had left the one year old on the Dursley's doorstep all those years ago he had also offered a house to Mrs. Figg in return that she watch over the boy. Not willing to refuse such a good offer, Mrs. Figg happily agreed.

The reports were many, Albus often wanted to know of the boy, but apparently Mrs. Figg didn't quite understand the situation. It had been heartwarming to hear how the Dursleys had taken in Harry as if he were their own and continued to dote on him as he grew older.

The reports continued to describe their love, maybe a bit much, as Harry was growing far too big than was healthy, and he was subject to temper tantrums. Although a little worrying, Albus couldn't help but feel gladdened that Harry was getting the much love he needed after the horrible ordeal that had left him an orphan, and couldn't bring himself to give the Dursleys any warning when they obviously loved the boy so.

Despite having the best interests at heart, Albus could not find the time to visit little Harry until he would be getting his Hogwarts acceptance letter. He could feel his magic running through his veins, matching his excitement. Although not regular policy, Dumbledore wanted to tell Harry himself that the young wizard would be going to the same school as his dearly departed parents.

Apparating found him by the same row of houses Albus had visited nearly ten years before. Walking up to one of the identical houses on the street, Albus glanced at the number four in front. It wasn't really to his taste, he liked color, but the houses served an important purpose, a home. Knocking on the front door of the dwelling, Albus smiled gently when he heard the thundering footsteps on the other side.

The door swung opened revealing what looked like a pig in a wig. Albus couldn't help but hope that Harry had not turned out like his cousin despite Mrs. Figg's reports. Peering into the front entrance, Albus heard the telltale signs of living activity before addressing the boy, "Are your parents home young man?"

Dudley, if he recalled correctly, didn't give any warning as he yelled, "Mom, there's some weird guy at the door," before running off back upstairs. Knowing boys would be boys Albus gave it no thought as a skinny, horse-like woman approached. Before he could introduce himself, Petunia Dursley tried to shut the door in his face after a quick, "We're not interested."

Shoving his foot in between the shutting door Albus gave the woman one of his most charming smiles. "Mrs. Dursley, I am not trying to sell you anything. I am here to see young Harry Potter. It's almost time for him to go to school and I've come to give him his acceptance letter."

Albus was not expecting the color to drain from Petunia's face and the look of horror in her eyes. "I don't know what you are talking about, there's no one here by that name" Petunia said in a panic once again trying to slam the door shut.

Taken aback, Albus did not stop the woman from closing the door in his face. Not wanting to scare the woman Albus made his way across the street to Mrs. Figg's abode, hoping to get some answers. It was here that Albus felt fear for the first time in many years.

Knocking on the cat lady's door Albus couldn't help but feel that something was not quite right. The door opened to a friendly, "Albus, how wonderful to see you. Come to check up on the Potter boy?"

"Mrs. Figg, it is a pleasure as always. I was in the neighborhood wanting to drop off little Harry's acceptance letter, when I came upon a curious circumstance. Apparently Mrs. Dursley is under the impression that no one by the name of Harry Potter lives in their house. Do you know what's going on?" Albus wasn't too worried, Mrs. Figg had been reporting of the boy's whereabouts for the last nine years.

"That is quite strange Albus, I mean I've been watching them for a long time and I see Harry playing outside almost every day. The family is a little snobbish, but it is obvious that they love each other. Just the other day--"

Albus tuned Mrs. Figg's ramblings out contemplating why Petunia would lie. Perhaps the woman didn't want Harry to go. She must be afraid of losing the boy, the poor girl.

"—the three of them are really quite good for each other."

Albus quickly turned his attention back on Mrs. Figg. "What did you say, dear lady? What was that about three?"

"I'm talking about the Dursleys. Haven't you been listening to me?" Mrs. Figg was a little put out about being ignored. She hadn't a visitor in two years and finally someone comes to visit only to ignore what she had been saying. The nerve of the man.

"I was listening Arabella but you know how the mind wanders at this age. Please repeat what you were saying."

Mrs. Figg pursed her lips but continued with her story, "As I was saying Albus, the three of them are quite good for each other. It is obvious that the two Dursleys love Harry very much."

Albus couldn't breathe for a moment, "Arabella, how many reside in the Dursley household?"

The woman gave him an odd look, "Well three of course. There's Vernon, Petunia, and young Harry."

TBC

A/N:

Well I wanted to get this off my chest. I've pretty much got the rest thought out but thought this was a good ending of the first chapter. Hopefully I won't be too lazy and will get the next chapter out soon. I am not British so sorry if I am horrible at portraying the characters as they are supposed to be…but oh well. :D

Thanks for reading

--Que