Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its universe belong to J.K. Rowling

Notes: This story is up for adoption or can be turned into a challenge, or else, be made into a co-writing project: I won't be writing it anymore, but it would be fun to see how you and other authors react to each chapter posted, with the possibility, to post your own chapter as an answer. Its just an idea, really.

Prologue: the Boy with Silver hair

There was another boy at Madam Malkins waiting to be fitted.

He was taller than Harry by only two inches, fair and slender. His hair looked almost silver, and his cheeks rosy from the excitement, were the only spot of color on his otherwise unblemished skin.

It looked milky and soft, like a toddler's and Harry could smell the scent of fresh soap and lotion from whence he stood.

Feeling shy, for this was well the first time Harry met a wizard his age, he turned his curious eyes upwards and looked at the other from behind dark lashes.

"Hello" the boy said, and his lip curved in a half smile, which Harry returned hesitantly.

"Hi"

Silence settled. Amongst the rustling of fabric and the pinning of needles, both boys seemed at a loss of words, squirming on their stools and occasionally looking back towards one another from the corner of their eyes.

Before long, Harry had to try hard to fight a grin, laughter bubbled up his chest.

The other seeing the apparent struggle raised a single eyebrow that wanted itself annoyed. But, when he too failed to keep his composure, he quirked a smile, genuine and bright. Harry laughed.

"Draco Malfoy." The boy said, extending his hand. Harry shook it gladly. There was a pleased smile on the boy's face.

"Harry." He said simply. The eyebrow rose again, but the boy didn't ask him to elaborate, so Harry didn't. He felt very much relieved.

"Are you starting Hogwarts?" he wondered then. Harry nodded.

"Yes." Harry had never been talkative and he felt a bit uncomfortable. His answers were too short, he knew that…but what else was he meant to say, to someone he barely knew? Luckily Draco Malfoy did not seem to mind.

"Me too. Mother is next door looking at wands and uncle Sev is buying potion supplies. Severus Snape, I mean, my godfather, of course. Youngest potion master in a century, and head of Slytherin, of course."

The boy stopped talking as suddenly as he'd started and a blush crept up his cheeks.

Harry didn't know what a potion master was, nor did he know what Slytherin was meant to be, but either way, he didn't ask. He had the feeling the boy wanted to impress him with this Severus and he felt bad, when he saw the boy's shoulders slump down in defeat, after Harry failed to take the bait.

"I...understand." the boy said slowly "It is difficult to see past my name."

Disappointed the blond boy turned away and Harry's brow furrowed.

"Err…Why…I mean…what's so special about your name?" he wondered curiously. The blond tensed, his eyes widened in surprise…a moment passed during which he stared at Harry appraisingly.

"Father is in prison, of course." The boy answered carefully, looking at Harry as if he were some strange curiosity. When Harry failed to remark on that too, the boy cocked his head to the side. Harry thought quickly.

"Err…I…does it matter?" he wondered, confused. Slowly, a hesitant smile grew on the other's lips.

"No, of course not. Just a shame, to think in my grand-father's days the Malfoys were one of the most powerful families there was…Mother says, I mustn't ever forget my name, because no one ever will, and people will always hate me for it. She says, I must be proud and wear my name like armor…"

He said it all very quickly and suddenly paused, giving Harry a helpless shrug. At that moment, Draco Malfoy looked very much like the eleven year old boy he was.

"But it isn't always easy." He finished then, blushing.

Harry nodded contemplative. Somehow he felt, after meeting all these strange people at the Leaky Cauldron and after Hagrid told him all about being famous amongst wizards, that he could sympathize…

But he'd never thought to carry his name around like an armor…he'd always just been Harry, just Harry…all the same, he had some things to think about. The boy was right after all, the wizards weren't likely to forget their national hero anytime soon and so Harry thought, mayhap it was better to embrace the name rather than flee from it.

He worried his lower lip, and after a while offered his own reassuring smile.

"I'm…Potter…that's my name, Harry Potter." He offered, shrugging in much the same manner the boy had done just a minute ago. He ignored the startled look on the other's face.

He'd prepared himself all summer for the eventuality. He'd talked himself into doing his outmost best to make friends at Stonewall high, since Dudley wouldn't be attending…

Of course, he was no longer going to the muggle school either, but it was all the same, wasn't it? And there was no time like the present so… taking a deep breath he stuck his hand out again.

"I'm Harry Potter and I'd like to be your friend…?" he blurted quickly, before he could make up his mind. It sounded much too hopeful for his liking and his hand shook a little but still he held it out, cringing at the pathetic figure he made.

It was with genuine surprise etched on his face that Draco Malfoy took his hand and shook it, for the second time that day.

"Gladly" The boy said.

And just then, a tall slender woman walked into the shop, the sun lighting up her hair in a golden hallow, and Harry awed, thought for a moment, he was seeing an angel. Or a queen, he wasn't sure. He was sure however, that he'd never seen any woman look so beautiful before.

Draco stepped down from his stool.

"That's my mother." He said and grinned.

Chapter 1: Of Ferrets and Weasels

Harry was ever so grateful that Mrs. Weasley had helped him trough the barrier at Kings Cross station, but it didn't mean her son had the right to insult his only friend.

"But he's a Malfoy!" the red head had said in his defense "his father was a death eater!"

Harry didn't know what a death eater was, but it sounded like something foul, and he didn't like bullies much.

So, it was true, Draco came off as a stuck up snob, but he was still a nice guy, if a little proud, and Harry couldn't stand Ron Weasley. He reminded him of his cousin Dudley.

"So what? Do I go around calling your parents some awful words?" he wondered angrily. It hadn't escaped his noticed that Draco cowered in the corner of their compartment, which Ron had invaded without the slightest invitation.

"But you're Harry Potter!"

"Yes, thank you, I hadn't noticed!"

"BUT-"

"Out! Get out boy!" Harry answered in his best imitation of uncle Vernon and red to the point of his ears, Ronald Weasley finally left. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and let himself fall back onto his seat.

"I get that all the time." Draco said quietly. "His father, Arthur Weasley works at the Ministry. He's head of the department for muggle liaison." He explained.

It was one of the qualities Harry liked about Draco, that he started explaining random things without prompting. Harry was quite sure the other could hold a conversation on his own, and not ever notice if he was suddenly alone in the room. It could be annoying, at times, but since Harry knew nothing about this strange new world, he was glad for any bit of information he got his hands on.

"They used to be very poor, but no longer." Draco continued. "the Weasleys like to think themselves aristocrats, like the Diggorys, but they aren't, not truly…it's about ancestry you understand? Money can buy a lot of things, but it can't buy you an ancestry, or a history. Malfoys are true aristocrats, of course, even though our vaults were confiscated..." Draco confined as he fiddled nervously with the hem of his shirt.

The shirt Draco wore looked quite expensive next to Dudley's old cast offs, but not awfully so.

"Mother says, as long as we have the Manor, we are not truly broken and, of course, if it came down to it, we could always sell the old family jewels, but Mother would rather not… they are priceless she says…"

Harry wasn't quite sure what to say to that, he felt a little uncomfortable thinking about all the gold sitting innocently in his trust vault at Gringotts. If he could help Draco and his mother, he would do it gladly, Harry thought, but he knew better than to offer.

"It's gotten better." Draco said "Mother used to fret about the school fees, they are quite horrendous, but now that the extension of the Green house is finished she has more plants to cultivate and sell…Mother loves gardening." There was a smile playing on his lips.

"Uncle Severus is gracious enough to buy most of his supplies from her… Mother says we must be grateful for the small kindnesses in life. It is a kindness father wasn't kissed" Draco stopped talking after that and turned towards the window to look at the Scottish hills as they sped past, while Harry, he, remained deep in thought.

Later, Draco's good mood returned, prompted certainly by Harry's invitation to a few cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs, and he started chatting mindlessly about the four houses, and about his cousin Nymphadora, who was, in his opinion, the greatest cousin one could hope to have.

She'd graduated just a few months ago, and was training to become an Auror, but what made her so great, in Draco's opinion, was her love for muggle rock bands, and her (he grinned conspiringly) use of foul words and muggle slang, with which he loved to drive his mother mad. Of course, she was also, a Metamorphmagus.

Then he started talking about the Tornado Tunshills, his favorite quiddich team and listed off all the teams in the British league, their players, techniques etc… Harry was enchanted and eager to hear more about this crazy sport.

All in all, their train ride was rather enjoyable, until a girl called Hermione Granger invaded their compartment and Draco clammed his mouth shut, clearly on his guard, while she talked and talked and talked about all the books she'd read.

Somehow along the line, she managed to drag Draco unto a conversation about charms and Harry, rather satisfied with that outcome, turned towards the landscape, basking in the chatter surrounding him.

Harry had a headache once they arrived at Hogsmeade station, but he couldn't possibly be upset and, with his friends voices still ringing in his ears, looked upon the Hogwarts castle for the first time of his life.

When Draco Malfoy was made a Huffelpuff, the great hall at Hogwarts went deadly quiet. Harry's brow furrowed, all other students had been met with loud cheers. But not Draco. The boy stood up, almost hesitantly and his eyes settled on the deputy head mistress who pushed him lightly away, encouraging him to cross the hall, over to the yellow and black table.

From the distance, Harry saw his friend's chin wobble. Eyes bright, Draco looked as if he was trying to hold back tears.

Harry caught his eyes, and nodded to him, lips curling up into a gentle smile.

tbc, if you please, see notes at the top of the page.