Young Draco Malfoy stood in the back of Madam Malkin's robe-shop, when the door opened with a ring of the bell above and the elderly witch left him standing on the footstool to welcome the newest customer, her co-worker still pinning up his new robes.

After the saleswoman had finished her usual phrases, she led the newcomer in the back of the shop and stood the boy next to him on a stool before beginning to pin his robes as well.

Draco let his gaze wonder about the boy interestedly. He had messy black hair which hung him into his bright green eyes and wore sluiced-down, much too big muggle-clothes. He was a bit smaller than himself and the lenses of his broken glasses were dirty.

Anyway, the boy was the first other child Draco had ever met who was not presorted by his parents and he looked nice, regardless of his apparent poverty.

'Hullo,' he said, 'Hogwarts, too?'

'Yes,' came the hesitant answer.

'My father's next door, buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands. Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first-years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow. Have you got your own broom?'

The boy looked at him with a funny expression, before shaking his head: 'No.'

'Play Quidditch at all?'

'No.'

Draco started to wonder if he really was so bad at this. Why didn't the boy say anything at all, he wondered and started speaking again: 'I do – Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?'

'No,' the other said again, blushing.

'Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been – imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?'

'Mmmm,' came the answer and Draco frowned.

When he looked around for any clue of what other he could say, he saw a giant man standing outside the shop window.

'I say, look at that man!' he spat, happy for the distraction. He really couldn't think of any other thing to say.

'That's Hagrid,' said the boy suddenly, 'he works at Hogwarts.'

Happy over a whole sentence from the other kid, Draco nodded. 'Oh, I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?'

'He's the gamekeeper.'

'Yes, exactly,' he chuckled, 'I heard he's a sort of savage – lives in a hut in the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic and ends up setting fire to his bed.'

'I think he's brilliant,' said the boy.

'Do you?' Draco couldn't hold the disbelief out of his voice when he realised the giant was the boys escort. 'Why is he with you? Where are your parents?'

'They're dead.'

'Oh, sorry,' he said. That was probably not the best topic, either. 'But they were our kind, weren't they?'

'They were a witch and a wizard, if that's what you mean.' Ah, there was the new suggestion. If he was a pureblood, there shouldn't be a problem.

'I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?'

The other had paled visibly and Draco wondered what he had said now, but before he could get an answer Madam Malkin spoke up.

'That's you done, my dear,' she said and the boy hopped down from the footstool.

'Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose,' Draco said hopefully when he got no answer. Why had he ordered so many robes? He really wanted to get to know this boy with his weird behaviour. It was a welcome change to the yea-sayer he knew.

He would have enough time to befriend him when they were at Hogwarts. There was nothing that could go wrong about that, was there?

'Watch were you're going, golden boy,' Draco spat. Oh, how he despised him. Since Potter had defeated the dark lord, he was more a prick than he ever had been. No offense, Draco secretly was glad the reign of the crazy dark bastard had found an end before anything worse could happen to him or his family, but he would never say it out loud, let alone praise scarhead for his heroic deeds.

'What now, Malfoy? Suddenly found your voice even without your bodyguards around?' The Weasel. If he despised someone more than Potter, it surely was the redhead.

Draco rolled his eyes: 'What are you going to do? Let your girlfriend hex me? Or maybe Potter here wants to do you the favor. I heard he gets away with everything these days, since he saved all your ridiculous arses."

Harry raised his head, looking the blonde in the eye. He was right and also he was the first to acknowledge that in front of him out loud. The airy indifference the teachers wore when Harry did something wrong or even deserved a detention freaked him out a lot. There was not one day since they arrived back at Hogwarts for their eighth year on which there wasn't someone pampering him. There were still younger students coming to him to congratulate and praise him. Harry shivered – he had never wanted any of this!

When their eyes locked, he looked away. 'Let him be, Ron,' he said and left them standing there.

'Harry!' Ron cried, but he didn't look back. He didn't need any more reasons to fight and get away with it. He just wanted to be a normal student. A teenager for once in his life!

'Where were you?' asked Hermione, when they met her minutes later in the library.

'We stumbled upon Malfoy,' Ron answered after bending down to plant a kiss on her lips.

Hermione's smile faded instantly: 'What did he do?'

'Nothing!' Harry tossed in. 'We nearly collided and he didn't find it funny.'

'He should be kissing your feet after what you did for him!'

'No, Ron! That's exactly what I don't want!'

'But Harry, you saved him from many years in Azkaban. I think Ron is right!' Hermione frowned.

'I didn't do it for him or for my pleasure in knowing he owse me! I'm perfectly fine with him being the prick he always has been.'

He had unintentionally raised his voice, only realising it when Madam Pince rounded the corner. The old witch pinched her eyes together, scanning the room and when she saw them standing around the nearest table, a smile spread across her lips. 'Oh, dear. It's just you,' she said and turned around to go back to her workplace.

'Did you see that?' Harry asked in a whisper, voice high.

'You can't expect them to act in any other way, Harry. You are the wizarding worlds hero. I know that freaks you out, but I understand them also. They are grateful!' Hermione tried.

Harry huffed. She was right, but that didn't mean that he had to like it. He was tired of being the chosen one, the boy who lived, part of the golden trio. He knew he could get everything he wanted and that didn't make him in any way happy. He just was not that person. He wanted to get what he earned himself and not what others thought was due.

Draco sighed, when he sat on the black leather couch in the Slytherin common room. He was surrounded by other students, but nobody would talk to him or spare him a glance. Most of them hated him because nearly everyone had lost at least one person from their family to Azkaban and Draco, although he was a former deatheater too, sat among them. The tiny rest of them avoided him just because they didn't want to be an outsider as well.

He didn't implicitly care, he thought first, but that was a lie.

Later that week, the eighth years who had made it into the N.E.W.T.s class had Potions together. After Severus Snape's death, they had still Slughorn as teacher and Draco wasn't at all amazed that Potter had made it into the class too. It was no secret that the potions master loved him from head to toe even before his triumph.

He couldn't help but feel jealous. He himself had never received an invitation to one of those parties the teacher regularly hosted for his dearest students. The old dork didn't even look at his potions and Draco could with proud say that his were always the best. Except for when Potter cheated again, but nobody would believe that anyway. Draco just knew that he did.

'Move on, move on. I'ld like you to split in pairs. No Miss Granger, same-gender pairs please, we have a special potion today.'

Draco groaned. Why on earth had he to partner with someone? He glanced around and rolled his eyes. The few Slytherin students wouldn't want anyway, maybe he should pick one of the two Hufflepuffs, he thought but was interrupted by someone taking the place next to him.

'Potter?' He wasn't serious, was he?

'Yes,' answered the boy while arranging his utensils on the table.

Draco frowned and pinched his eyes together: 'Is this some kind of a joke?'

The other boy sighed and turned around, looking at him with tired eyes. 'Look, Malfoy,' he said, 'I really want just one hour for me.'

'You're not for you! You're here, with me!'

Harry chuckled to himself when he saw Malfoy gesticulate wildly. He didn't understand and Harry wasn't going to tell him that he was looking for someone who was not worshipping him. If he couldn't work with Hermione he would work with Malfoy. That he was sure of the second Slughorn had pronounced that he had to pick a guy.

'Do you hear me?' the blonde asked that second.

'I'm not changing places.'

'I can't have you here, boy wonder. I have a reputation to defend.' Malfoy glared.

'Oh, yes. Wait... no, you've not!'

'Are you fucking with me, Potter?'

'Uh, no Malfoy, I can't see that happen.' To his amazement, the boy next to him blushed furiously.

'Whatever!' he spat halfheartedly and turned his attention to Slughorn who was listing the ingredients on the blackboard.

The potion they were working on was some memorie-charm Harry didn't really understand. Or maybe he was just not interested enough. He had never been very fond of the subject and since he couldn't use Snape's book anymore, he wasn't any good at it either.

To the majority of the double-lesson he just did what Malfoy told him to do. The blonde hadn't looked at him once so absorbed was he in the progress of brewing this potion. Harry wondered how someone could like it so much. He didn't even get praise for his efforts.

'Are you done staring at me, Potter?' Malfoy's voice startled him.

'Sorry. Do you need me to catch anything from the storeroom?'

'No! And really, please hate me again!'

'I'm done with the hating.'

'What? I think I didn't hear you correctly!'

'I'm done with it!'

Malfoy made a funny pfff-sound and stirred the potion again.

Harry raised an eyebrow: 'What does that mean?'

Done with the hating, Draco thought and snorted, shaking his head in disbelief.

'Malfoy!'

'Why are you here, Potter? No change to cheat anymore? Are you needing me for your grades?'

'What? How... I didn't...'

'Don't tell me you didn't cheat, because I know!'

When he turned around to face him again, he saw the git actually grinning.

'Fine, I cheated in sixth year, you're right,' he said.

'So?'

'I don't need you for my grades. He'll give me better marks than I deserve, anyway.'

That was probably true, Draco thought.

'I want my freedom. I'm not enjoying the attention, if you haven't noticed by now.'

'Please,' he said, but deep down he knew that it was true. Potter had never wanted any of the praise he got. One more thing that disgusted Draco greatly. How could someone not take advantage of such a situation? He certainly would!

'It's true.'

'I don't care.'