Harry wiped his sweaty palms on his new school robes and glanced nervously at the ratty old hat that was now being on placed on the head of one "MacDougal, Morag." He barely heard what the boy had been sorted into as he turned over dozens of different scenarios in his head. He imagined what the sorting hat might say once it was placed upon his head. It would surely proclaim that Harry wasn't good enough for any of the houses, or that he simply was not meant to be at Hogwarts. Good things normally did not end well for Harry, so why would this be any different?.

Harry pulled himself out of his thoughts to see the awful Malfoy boy he had met on the train swagger up to the stool. Malfoy carried with him more confidence than Harry thought he would ever feel. He couldn't help but notice the similarities between Malfoy's behavior and that of his cousin's.

The hat took quite a great deal of time atop Malfoy's head, earning him more than a few confused and suspicious looks from his peers. The boy had started to fidget nervously on the stool before the hat screamed, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Gasps of surprise and shock emitted from the Great Hall, and McGonagall herself looked a bit disturbed as she pulled the hat off the blond boy's head. Malfoy himself looked horrified, and he opened his mouth to say something before closing it several times. He strongly reminded Harry of a fish out of water. After what felt like ages, polite applause finally erupted from the Gryffindor table. Malfoy slowly walked there, his down in shame.

Harry glanced over at Malfoy's two nasty-looking friends, both already seated at the Slytherin table, and they were glaring at their "friend" in disgust. He also noticed Hogwart's students murmuring and gossiping to one another, and Harry couldn't help but feel a little pity for Malfoy. He knew what it was like to be an outsider.

Harry quickly forgot about the Malfoy boy as the names drew closer and closer to his, and before he knew it, the name "Potter, Harry!" was being called out.

The whole room fell silent, but the buzz of confused and excited whispers about "the Harry Potter" quickly filled the silence. The mood felt a bit how it was when Malfoy was sorted. All eyes were on Harry as he nervously made his way to where McGonagall was waiting, the Sorting Hat in hand. Harry took one last deep breath as the hat slid over his eyes.

"Lets see," the hat said in Harry's ear, making him jump. "You're a tough one, Mr. Potter. Tonight is full of those, I suppose! You have much potential for growth in Slytherin,"

With the mention of Slytherin, Harry couldn't help but cringe. He remembered the mean faces he saw from their table, and how quick Malfoy's Slytherin friends were to turn on him. The hat seemed to noticed this as it said, "You don't seem too much in favor of Slytherin, do you? You can been great there, you know. For you Mr. Potter, I'd say GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as thunderous applause broke out from the Gryffindor table, and he quickly made his way there. With all the cheers and congratulations he received, Harry felt a bit flustered as he sat down next to the still shocked Malfoy boy. Malfoy still seemed to be in a state of shock, for he was chewing on his lip quite aggressively, and his fist were curled into tight balls. Harry, not one for confrontation, simply turned away from the blond and continued to watch the sorting.

For the rest of the night, Harry forgot about Malfoy. He cheered loudly when Ron was sorted, and ate as much as he could as the feast appeared. He listened excitedly and attentively as Dumbledore made his speech, and was filled to the brim with treacle tart as he followed Percy to the dorm. This had been the best day of Harry's life, and he went to bed very contented in his new bed.

-

This is the worst day of my life Draco thought as he tossed and turned in his new scarlet bedding. He caught a gleam of gold in his eye and felt like he might hurl. This must be all some huge mistake. How could a Malfoy be sorted into Gryffindor?

Draco still remembered his mother's stories of her disowned cousin Sirius, and he remembered how his father showed him the burn mark on the tapestry where his name used to be. Draco had decided that day that his name was to never be burned off the tapestry. Now here he was, in bloody Gryffindor.

The only solace Draco had from his predicament was the letter he had written his parents immediately after arriving at Gryffindor Tower. He had tried his hardest to explain to his parents that he was mistakenly placed in Gryffindor. He hoped his father would be able to persuade Dumbledore into fixing this mess and place Draco into his proper house. If Draco had to spend his whole seven years at Hogwarts in Gryffindor house, he didn't know what he would do with himself.

It must have been the stress of the day, or the sound of rain starting to fall around Hogwarts grounds, for Draco finally fell into a restless sleep after long ours of brooding.

The following morning, Draco could barley look at the food placed in front of him as he anxiously waited for his mail to arrive. After what felt like an eternity, Draco's owl Bubo finally arrived with a reply from his parents. The first was from Lucius, and Draco felt extremely nervous as he opened the wax seal.

Draco-

We were shocked to hear the news of your sorting last night. Of course there is nothing I can do to persuade Dumbledore to change this mistake, but I have already sent my owl to see if there is any way. Know that I am severely disappointed in this and hope to see better things from you soon.

Draco felt a lump start to form in his throat as he crumpled up the letter and shoved it in his pocket. He continued to remind himself that there was still a chance that this would all be fixed soon. He felt a surge of jealously as he looked where all his childhood friends sat at the Slytherin table, happily laughing together as they opened packages from their parents. To distract himself, Draco turned to what Bubo had delivered him from his mother. In it was a small bag of sweets, which did mildly lift his spirits, and a note in Narcissa Malfoy's familiar scrawl.

Draco-

Don't feel bad about your recent sorting. I know you will still manage to do great things, no matter what house you are in. Just know that your father and I love you.

Love, Mum.

He smiled at the letter, and carefully tucked it away, unlike the haphazard way the had handled his father's letter. He started to fiddle with the package of sweets when he caught Weasley looking at him with a look that was both confused and disgusted.

"What Weasley," he sneered, "Mummy and Daddy couldn't afford anything for you? Or, maybe there were too many of you and they just didn't care enough."

With that Weasley's cheeks flushed red and he quickly stood from seat, despite nervous side glances from Potter.

"You know what Malfoy? Nobody wants you here." Weasley spat venomously.

Draco rose up and matched his angry glare. "Oh yeah, Weasley?" He challenged.

The soon to be fight was broken up with Professor McGonagall handing the two first years their schedules, giving them both very pointed looks. She then turned to Draco and said, "Mr. Malfoy, if I could just have a private word with you?"

Weasley looked ever so triumphant as Draco begrudgingly followed his head of house out of the Great Hall, and it took all of Draco's willpower to not flip the redhead the bird.

Professor McGonagall led Draco to a quaint office near Gryffindor Tower, where she offered him tea. She waited until he was properly fed up, and to be honest filled with nerves, before she explained to him why he was there.

"Now Mr. Malfoy," she began. "It has come to my attention that you and your family have been requesting for you to be removed from Gryffindor house."

"Yes, you see Professor-"

"Mr. Malfoy," she continued, ignoring what Draco was trying to say. "I'm sorry to inform you that once the Sorting Hat has sorted you that is a final decision. It was created to place every student in the house it seemed best fit for their growth. For you, that house was Gryffindor."

"But Professor!"

"Never in all my years of teaching have I seen a student who did not benefit from their placement in Gryffindor house, and I believe you to be no different. No matter what you want to accomplish in life, your house placement cannot do much to change that. I'm pleased to have you in my house, and you will stay here."

"There must be some way!"

"That decision is final . You may excuse yourself."

"You don't understand, I-"

"I think I understand well enough, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco opened his mouth to argue again, but refrained upon seeing the look on her face. Instead he rose from his seat angrily stomped out of her office, taking great pleasure in slamming the door as loud as he could.

This whole school is a joke. Draco thought as he sulked down the corridor. How can there be no one here who can fix this mess?

His eyes brimmed with tears as he stopped to think what his father would think once he heard this news, and he could just picture his name being burned of the family tapestry. He once again thought what he had told the Sorting Hat before he was sorted. I will not disappoint my family.