"Slytherin!" the Sorting Hat proclaimed to a stunned and silent Great Hall. Harry Potter removed the Hat from his head, carefully handing it off to a stiff-lipped Professor McGonagall and walked calmly to his seat, perching at the end of the Slytherin table. After another moment of shocked quiet, Albus Dumbledore began clapping wildly. Harry could see the twinkle in his eyes from here, making him inwardly snort. As if the Headmaster could actually be pleased with the Boy who Lived being Sorted into Slytherin.
"Potter," Draco Malfoy nodded coolly at him, but Harry could see the excitement dancing in the boy's grey eyes. A chance meeting in Madam Malkin's had turned into a rapid-fire friendship, one that had led to Harry spending the rest of the summer at Malfoy Manor, one that had led to the Dursleys being casually, yet viciously, threatened by Lucius Malfoy himself, pointing his cane at Vernon and telling him in the iciest tones Harry had ever heard that if they dared lay so much as a finger on Harry when he returned next summer, Lucius would personally see to their torture. The smile he wore sent shivers down Harry's spine and its effect was no less salutory on the Dursleys themselves. Dudley had even wet himself, something Harry had pointed out to Draco later in great glee when the boys were supposed to be abed. Narcissa had scolded them, but Harry had seen the warmth in her eyes and not minded.
"Malfoy," Harry nodded back, keeping up the pretense. If all went well over the next year, the Malfoys would be adopting him. And thanks to Lucius's contacts in the Ministry, there wouldn't be a sodding thing Albus Dumbledore could do about it.
Severus Snape turned out to be their Head of House. Harry had never met the man, but took an instant dislike to him in their first Potions class, when the man tried to humiliate him in front of the entire Gryffindor first years. Thankfully, thanks to Narcissa's quizzing, he knew all the answers, but doled them out shortly and reluctantly, emerald green eyes frosty with ire as Snape looked angrier and angrier. Served the git right, he thought, and detested the fact the professor was Draco's godfather. He hoped that responsibility never transferred over.
The fact that Quirrell was not immediately fired as a fraud, Harry would never know. The man put garlic in his turban, kept his classroom so smoky it was a fire hazard, and constantly stuttered, wringing his hands like he was perpetually wringing out his own laundry. The fact that he had Voldemort on the back of his head came as a shock, but Harry warranted it was more of a shock to the Weasley twins, who had accidentally pelted the turban to unraveling with magicked snowballs. They'd shrieked like little girls when Quirrell's 'second head' came into view, and Dumbledore had popped out of nowhere (despite the apparition restrictions on Hogwarts grounds) to defeat his DADA professor gone possessed. Harry had watched comfortably from the sidelines, hidden behind a large cluster of bushes with Draco. Despite his scar feeling like it would split in two, it was a remarkably pleasant afternoon.
When summer rolled around and Harry and Draco got off the train, the Malfoys were waiting, Dursleys firmly in tow. Lucius took enormous pleasure in having Uncle Vernon sign the adoption papers in front of Harry, the red-faced walrus of a man literally trembling and sweating through his clothes. Aunt Petunia had brought his few belongings, and Harry shoved them in the trunk, 'accidentally' letting all three of them see his leftover wizarding money, stuffed in a small pocket of his trunk. The avaricious and disappointed gleam in Dudley's eyes satisfied Harry for the next week as he slammed the lid briskly shut (narrowly avoiding crushing Dudley's fingers), gave the Dursleys a merry goodbye, thanks for nothing, and popped off with the Malfoys.
"Voldemort finally vanquished by the only wizard he's ever feared! Found cowering in Albania!" read the newspaper headlines two months later, and Harry and Draco exchanged gleeful high fives, ruined only by the article on the next page that said Gilderoy Lockheart would be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts next year.
"Well, there goes the school," Harry said and folded up the newspaper.