Notes: I was going to the Boat Scene too.. but I can't be bothered yet, and I have this, and yeah. Why not put it on the internet. Yes, these guys are 11, but hey, it's rated M... it WAS a one-shot, and twaddletoe, you are so right (and have an awesome username!) but hey, why not see where this shit is going! :D Could, er, still be a two-shot?! ;L

Disclaimer:I DON'T OWN ANYTHING...not even a cardboard box to sleep in :'(

Harry was shaken up and out of sorts for the rest of the shopping trip. He went around with a weird, queasy sense of light-headedness, and must have looked so dazed that Hagrid asked him with concern if the Gringotts ride earlier had taken a late toll. The only thing he clearly remembered, despite being so wonder-filled before he had entered the robes shop, was Hagrid showing him into Eeylops Owl Emporium. He had unfocusedly scanned the rows, not taking in the patterned brown and cream feathers, the bright intelligent eyes and the soft hoots. A tawny owl gave a screech and thumped its wings back and forth.

Then – a flash of white-gold, storm grey eyes.

"That one!" He'd exclaimed. Startled, the shop assistant had cajoled the owl down and encouraged it into a cage, and Hagrid had exchanged galleons and pleasantries with the shopkeeper before they'd exited into the dusky evening and headed home.

Hours later, Harry's head managed to clear enough to take a proper look at the owl, and the white blonde became snow white, and the startling ash grey eyes became round rimmed gold ones, blinking at him. Hagrid's words emerged from the hazy day.

She's a beau'y 'arry, a right fine specimen. What yer gonna call her?

"Dracette..?" Harry tried it out, and then realised what he was doing.

The owl hissed and shrieked as one of his shoes flew across the room and crashed loudly into the wardrobe.

"BOYYYYY!"
Harry winced, but Uncle Vernon was not fussed enough to stomp up stairs and cuff him about the head. He climbed back on the bed and settled down. The owl followed suit, folding her wings back down. "Sodding Malfoy," he said to the bird irritably. "Sodding, stupid, stinking, scheming, weird, horny Malfoy!"

The owl hooted. Harry grabbed one of his school books roughly – A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot – and flicked to a random page. "Hedwig," he tested thoughtfully. "No… Denvilla? Percephone!"

He looked up and blinked owlishly. The owl returned his gaze, but coldly. "No? You liked Denvilla? Okay, Den-"

The owl promptly turned on its perch and put its back to Harry. He stared at the snowy feathers. "Hedwig?" A soft trill was his response, and the bird turned to face him again, before tucking her head neatly under her wing for the night. Carefully, Harry placed Hedwig's cage on his desk, pushing aside piles of socks to make room, and crawled tiredly into bed.

"Fucking Malfoy," he hissed dourly, and pounded his pillow a couple of times before he lay his head down, nursing the scabbing bite wound on his shoulder.

The summer passed quickly after the impromptu trip to the wizarding town, Diagon Alley. It was a good thing too, because the Dursley's had forgone any meanness in their attitude, and now acted as if Harry had just ceased to be. It was a complete shock to Harry when, on September the first, he found himself at King's Cross with his trunk, his owl, and not much else. The Dursley's hadn't even walked him into the station, and he'd had to battle to get his trunk on the trolley, uttering a hissing stream of so many cobbled-together swear words that Hedwig stared at him disapprovingly. When he had finally wheeled his possessions into the station, he was met with another, nastier shock.

Platform 9 ¾ simply didn't exist.

An elderly gentlemen sat on a bench under the white plastic sign reading '10'. Harry chanced asking him where he could get to his platform, but when the geezer stared vacantly at him, then turned off his hearing age, Harry was becoming hard-pushed not to panic. As he was spinning around, desperately looking for someone who would know what to do, he spotted a red-headed family approaching towards them, pushing an eclectic array of trunks and restlessly shifting animals. There was nothing for it. Harry pushed his own trolley over in time to hear the plump, kindly-looking women fussing over one of the boys, trying to rub his nose with a handkerchief and missing. "Ron," she chided, "You are not getting the Hogwarts express like that!"

"Gerrof Mum!" The one called Ron practically howled.

"Hey!" One of the other boys yelled, noticing Harry.

"You alright?" Called the one next to him. Harry noticed they were identical.

Harry opened his mouth, but his tongue struggled to form coherent words. It flopped around and managed a non-committal mumble. He settled for shaking his head.

"Hey Mum," the first boy said again, "Think this chap's lost."
"Oh poor dear," the woman said in a kindly voice, "Let's have you." They drew up their trollies next to Harry's, and Hedwig hooted to the owl on what looked like the eldest boy's trolley. He had a stern look as he watched Harry. "What is it dear?" the woman asked.

"I don't… I d-don't…"

"Don't know how to get onto the platform?" She had a nice, motherly voice, Harry thought with a pang. He nodded. "Well then… what's your name dear?"

"Harry," he said quickly.

The red-headed woman was about to continue speaking, when a small, piping squeak burst from behind her: "Potter?!" Harry looked curiously at the large pair of brown eyes hiding behind the woman.

"Ginny dear," the woman shushed her, "Well then Harry, I am Mrs Weasley." Her eyes smiled at him.

Her next words were cut off again by the twins speaking in unison, "Harry Potter?!"

Mrs Weasley tutted at them, but one twin just winked at her, and they both moved forward with their hands stuck out. "Fred, George, pleased to make your unusually short statured acquaintance."

"Hey," Harry protested weakly, but they both walked around him like hawks, appraising him.

"Funny, I thought you'd be tall-"

"At least six foot-"

"With muscles like Dorvus the Vast-"

"Dorvus the Vast?!"

The other twin – Harry had no idea which – stared at the other solemnly over Harry's head. "Oh George, you really never payed attention in History of Magic did you?"

The other, Fred, Harry assumed, scoffed. "You only remember Dorvus the Vast 'cause you managed to float a table through Professor Binns for a whole half an hour while he was talking about it without him noticing."

George grinned. "True."

Mrs Weasley was swelling as they spoke. "Boys!" She interrupted them thunderously, and their mouths closed comically, with joint snaps. "It's Ron's first time at Hogwarts too," she continued amiably, as if she hadn't just shouted, indicating one of her sons. Harry looked meekly over to the boy with a mark on his nose, and gave a small smile, which was returned.

"All you have to do," She continued, "Is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, very important. Best do it at a run if you're nervous. Go with Ron, you can do it together." She smiled down at Harry, who smiled back fully.

Ron wheeled over his trolley quietly. "It's really not too hard," he said with a shrug. "Just so you know."

Fred – or George – pushed his trolley in front of Ron's. "Taking too long little Ronnikins," he said with a wink into Ron's scowling face, and ran for the barrier. The bricks rippled once, and then he was gone. Harry gaped in astonishment. George – or Fred – followed straight after, patting the now murderous-looking Ron, and giving Harry a cheerful finger dibble. He too disappeared through the barrier with no problem. None of the people walking either side of the wall seemed to notice.

"Go together," Mrs Weasley urged with a smile, "Ron, go on."

The gangly redhead looked at Harry with a shrug, and they pushed their trolleys wordlessly together, unanimously picking up the pace into a run. The brick wall careened closer, and Harry expected the crash at any moment. He wanted to screw his eyes up but kept them peeled open. The brick wall was directly in front of them, and then they burst through the platform together, and a scarlet steam train whistled right in front of them. But Harry had barely a chance to gawp when the front wheels of their trolleys locked, and they spun out of control. Desperately, Harry made a grab for Hedwig's cage, and Ron, with a grunt of effort, slowed the two trolleys. They hit each other with a clang that threw Harry off completely, and he hit the ground with a sharp thud. Disorientated, the world spun for one brief moment, and he picked out, almost by accident, narrowed grey eyes under white blond hair on the other end of the platform. The figure pushed off from the wall it had been casually leaning on, but then Harry was left blinking as it disappeared behind legs wearing jeans slightly too short, under which peeked a pair of red and yellow knitted socks. Ron looked down at him, brows knitted together.

"Er… want a hand?"

Harry let Ron help him up, and then the pair noticed all the eyes on them. "Nice socks, by the way," Harry said in an undertone to the other boy.

"Thanks," Ron replied seriously. It was all too funny. Harry sniggered, once, and then Ron's deadpan face cracked into a grin, which flowed over into a laugh. Harry joined in, finding it so nice to have someone to laugh with that he didn't care if he'd just made a fool of himself.
"What an entrance man," the redhead sniggered as he detached the two trolleys, and Harry agreed with a grin as he fell into step beside him. As if by accident, his eyes flicked over to where he'd seen the figure last.

Malfoy stood stock still, his fists clenched. Anger bridled along his brows. The grey eyes were clouded and narrow, and conveyed the rage even across this distance. Almost immediately, Harry turned away, his own feelings turned venomous. What was that guy's problem anyway? "Sodding Malfoy," he hissed.

"What did you say?" Ron asked loudly.

A little taken aback, Harry told him. "Malfoy," Ron spat. "That twat. What's he done to you?"

Harry panicked. Scared to lose the beginnings of his friendship with the Weasley, he half-lied, "Was a bit of a sod to me when I was getting my robes, that's all."

"Not surprised," the boy said darkly, "The whole family's a dodgy piece of work."

Before Harry could ask, the twins hopped out of a carriage in front of them. "This one's free chaps," one said cheerily, indicating the empty compartment, and the four of them managed to shove and push the two trunks onto the train. Wheezing, Ron sat down heavily on the seat. "Where're your trunks then?" He asked thickly.

"Oh no ickle Ronnikins," one of the twins simpered, "You're going to have to last this train ride without us."

"Lee Jordan's got a huge tarantula down the middle of the train." The other twin grinned nastily. "We may even bring it to say hi." Ron paled noticeably under his flame red hair.

"But for now-"

"We know it will be hard-"

"But you'll just have to last-"

"Without us."

"Bye Harry!" They chorused, and disappeared out of the carriage.

Ron stalked over to the door and slammed it. He sat down with a face like thunder. "Knobs," he muttered. Harry chuckled.

"I wish I had a brother," he mused wistfully. "It must be nice having three."

"Five," Ron corrected gloomily exactly at the same time as the whistle sounded, and the train began to move off. He leaned out of the window and waved goodbye to his mother and sister, still standing at the platform. "Come on H-Harry." He stumbled over the name a bit, "Wave bye." Tentatively, the brunet peered round the window and waved his hand slightly, and the little girl's mouth popped open into a little 'o', and she hid behind her mother, who waved back at him cheerily.

"Stupid Ginny," said Ron, with a touch of fondness.

The train surged out of the station, and Ron's mother and sister were gone.

"Five brothers?" he asked incredulously as Ron sat back with a sigh into the seat.

"Yeah," Ron confirmed. He looked so abnormally miffed at this that Harry was astounded. He'd love to have at least one wizarding brother. "Fred and George you met," Ron continued suddenly, "Knobs that they are."

"They're great," Harry grinned.

Ron snorted. "Wait until you live with them till you say that. Percy-"

The door of the carriage slid open without warning, and Ron's brother walked in, the one Harry hadn't been introduced to. He walked forwards pompously and inclined his head formally at Harry. "I thought I'd just pop in to introduce myself Harry," he explained in a grandiose manner, "As I was passing by. I'm Percy."

Harry shook the hand that was offered to him. "Hello," he said quietly, noticing a shiny badge pinned high and proudly onto the boy's robes, which he already wore. It was buffed silver, with a curling, purple 'P' on it. Percy straightened it as he saw Harry looking at it.

"Yes, yes, I was awarded the prefect status this year." He cleared his throat importantly, "And I was just performing my duties when I passed by your carriage. Some 'Draco Malfoy' is apparently setting up a ruckus down the corridor." Percy rolled his eyes in a long-suffering manner. "I should better go and sort him out. Harry, Ron." Percy excused himself, and Ron and Harry curled their lips at each other at the name.

Ron carried on as if he hadn't just been interrupted. "Then there's the two who've left school, Bill and Charlie."

"What do they do?" asked Harry curiously. He had wondered over the summer what jobs there would be after schooling in magic.

"Well Bill is out of the country working for Gringotts, and Charlie's in Bulgaria, working with dragons." He turned a little pink at Harry's incredulous 'wow'. "It's nothing too fancy, honestly."

As they talked more, Ron was completely stunned to find out just how little Harry knew of the wizarding world. The pair were just engrossed in discussing the finer nuances of Quidditch when their door opened for a second time. A plump boy, sniffing tearfully, stood in the doorway. "Ha-have you seen my toad?" he wailed. When the pair shook their heads, his shoulders slumped. "Well, if you see him…"

He left. Not twenty minutes later, the door opened for a third time, and a girl with alarmingly bushy hair and rather large front teeth appeared in the doorway. "Have you seen Neville's toad?" she announced rather than asked.

"No," Ron replied irritably, turning to stare at the fields of grazing sheep whipping past the window. He jumped, startled, at thump next to him. The girl had sat herself down next to him, and was staring at Harry, who looked from Ron to her, and back again.

"I've heard that Harry Potter is in this carriage," she said in her announcer's voice.

"Er yes, he is, I mean I am," Harry said awkwardly.

"Are you really?" She said with interest, "I know all about you, of course – I got a few extra books for background reading and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"Am I?" said Harry, feeling dazed.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it were me," said the girl incredulously, "I didn't know anything about the wizarding world – nobody in my family's magic you see, so it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course it's the best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard – I've learnt all of our books off by heart of course, I just hope it'll be enough, I'm Hermione Granger by the way, and who are you?"

She said it all so fast that Ron nearly missed that the question was directed at him. He snapped out of gawking at her in a kind of repulsed fascination to reply. "Ron, er, Weasley?"

"Ronner Weasley?" she asked, "Do you shorten it to Ron?"

"Yes," Ron said irritably. "It's not Ronner at all!"

"Then why on earth did you say it?" she asked, surprised. Harry was trying to suppress a grin.

Hermione turned back to Harry with a little shake of her head. "Do either of you know which house you'll be in? I've been asking around and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best, I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad…" Before either boy could reply, she had stood up and straightened her skirt. "Anyway I'd better go and help Neville search for his toad. You two had better change you know, you don't want to be rushing by the time we get to Hogwarts." She flounced out.

"Merlin's saggy!" Ron exclaimed, jumping up to close the door. He stared at Harry hard, looking lost for words. He sat down and shook his head. "Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it."

At that moment, both their stomachs gave identical rumbles. Harry looked at his watch and realised it was one o'clock. Ron moaned and clutched his stomach dramatically, and Harry pulled a sympathetic face. From his pocket, Ron pulled out a squished and lumpy package. "Sandwiches," he explained.

From down the corridor, they heard an increasingly louder rattle. It stopped outside their carriage, and the door slid open. "Anything from the trolley dears," an elderly woman asked as she smiled at them. His stomach acting on impulse, and encouraged by the coins sitting heavily in his pocket, Harry jumped up eagerly. Ron flushed and held up the sandwiches with a mumble. Prepared to buy as many Mars Bars as the trolley held, he was surprised to see a colourful array of sweets and cakes that he had never seen before. Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans and Chocolate Frogs and thick Liquorice Snakes that writhed in a pot, and a teetering stack of cauldron cakes. He ordered something of everything, and tipped it all onto the chair next to Ron.

"Hungy?!" The red-head exclaimed.

"Starving," Harry replied, and bit into a pumpkin pasty. Opposite, Ron had unwrapped his sandwiches and sighed.

"Corn beef," he said sadly to Harry, "She always forgets I don't like corn beef, 'cause she doesn't have a lot of time, what with the five of us…"

"Have a pasty," Harry offered generously. Ron's ears went red and he spluttered a refusal. "Go on, I'll swap ya!" He had never had anything to share before, nor indeed anybody to share it with, and he was thoroughly enjoying the feeling. Ten minutes later the sandwiches lay forgotten as they ate their way through Harry's sweets, Ron explaining the more unusual ones.

…

A good hour later they were stuffed; leisurely chewing on the food left and laughing at the faces of Harry's new collection of Chocolate Frog cards as the pictures pulled faces and blew raspberries at them. Ron's new Agrippa card was tucked safely into his jean pocket.

The door slid open again, but this time, the imposter was not Neville or Hermione or the trolley lady.

It was Draco Malfoy.

Harry's stomach lurched despite himself, even as he glared at the boy. Was it him or did he seem taller than he remembered? The blond stared coldly back, and then the still-healing wound above Harry's collar bone gave a sudden, sharp throb. He bit back a surprised gasp.

"Malfoy," Ron snarled before Harry could say anything, and the blond boy tossed him a dismissive sneer, his eyes never leaving Harry's green ones.

"I see you have already fallen into such primitive company," he said with a snide laugh, and stalked further into the carriage. Behind him, two beefy boys squeezed themselves in after him. "I think it's time you came to join wizards…" His eyes left Harry's for the first time and scaped over Ron's scruffy attire with cruel amusement, "of your own… calibre. It's not becoming of you to spend time with this rabble." The unusual eyes sparkled with some humour that lingered over the last word as though it were a bad taste. Ron jumped to his feet, spluttering angrily.

"I'll choose my own friends thank you," Harry said quietly.

The grey eyes flashed. "Careful Potter. You don't want to make enemies now."

"Enemies have been made, Malfoy." He snapped.

It seemed to be the wrong thing to say. "Oh really?" It came out as a predatory purr. "Then I shall look forward to further…making enemies." Harry's stomach fell out even as he speared the blonde boy with a stony glare. "Crabbe. Goyle." They backed out of the carriage.

"I look forward to seeing you Potter." The boy smirked as he spun on his heel and exited the carriage.

Ron jumped up and slammed the carriage door. "Merlin's beard, if one more person…" He sat down heavily. "God that guy's a knob."

"I'll say," Harry agreed, and the two exchanged irritated looks. The brunet stood then, and when Ron asked where he was going, replied to the toilet. "Pumpkin juice has gone right through me," he winced at Ron, who chuckled and nodded, then immersed himself in the sweet pile again.

Harry followed the corridor down until he found the boys toilets and locked himself in. Leaning over the sink and looking into the small mirror, he pulled back the collar of his t-shirt over his shoulder. As he'd suspected. The ring of tooth marks left by Malfoy were inflamed and sore. Harry kicked the wall in anger as he stalked into the toilet to get a wad of tissue paper to wet with cold water and press over it.

"Buggering Malfoy," he hissed as he bundled the toilet roll together. He could feel that the arrogant prick would be the sole thing to make his lift at Hogwarts hell. Standing and glaring at the toilet roll dispenser, Harry nearly growled. He'd had the whole summer to contemplate it, and by the time the day had arrived to go to Hogwarts, he had decided that this Malfoy had been preying on his nervousness and weakness at Madame Malkins. He refused to be such a victim again. "Buggering Malfoy," he snapped again.

"A fantasy of yours Potter?"

Harry jumped horrifically and spun around. Draco Malfoy leaned against the wall, his lips curled up snidely.

"How'd you get in?" He growled, "I locked it."

"Magic?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow. His robes, Harry could see, were tailored to his body, and despite his 11 year old frame, they seemed to cling to some muscle on his torso.

"Well get out." Ignoring his presence, Harry went to the sink and wetted the tissue. The proximity to Malfoy made him want to punch something, but he resisted. The bite gave another throb. It seemed the blond boy wasn't leaving, and Harry decided to just dampen the bite and then get out.

"Scar troubling you?" There was humour in the boy's tone that irked Harry.

"It's fine," he said, an as deadpan a voice as he could manage.

"Oh really?"

"Yes."

"You don't want me to, say, ease the pain for you?" The tone lilted up at the end suggestively, and Harry fought the buckling of his knees and won. "No."

The next second, the lips were at his throat. "I don't believe you."

"For God's sake, get o- ahhh!" Malfoy had nuzzled the shirt collar down with his nose and fastened his lips on the inflamed oval of skin on Harry' shoulder. He suckled with a soft slurp, and Harry's knees finally went. Before he crumpled, Malfoy had slammed him against the wall of the bathroom and held him there with his body as he sucked on the brunet's neck.

"Malfoy!" Harry half-shouted, his breathlessness annoyingly betraying him. "Get off you sod, that hurts, that's awful, it's- AH!"

Malfoy squeezed his crotch again and Harry's breath heaved. "Hurts?" The word was hissed against the bite.

It wasn't Harry's imagination. Malfoy stood at least two inches over him now, enough that his neck had to crane down a little to suction onto the brunet's neck. He had had a growth spurt over the summer that Harry definitely hadn't.

"Stay away from Weasley." The voice was jealous. "I don't want you near him. If you go near him again, I'll punish you. And you don't even want to know just how I'll punish you."

Harry fought the hold as desperately as he could, shoving and kicking. Malfoy grunted as he fought to keep the brunet pinned. When Harry thrashed and nearly broke free, the blond held up a hand and pushed his head back to clunk against the wall. The angry green eyes flashed at him.

Harry was getting mad. More than mad – furious. When Malfoy pinned his head back, he acted on pure reflexes. He sunk his teeth into the boy's arm, into the soft flesh above the inside of the elbow, and hung on. Malfoy yelled and tried to jerk his arm away, and Harry bit down harder. He felt the skin break around his teeth, and blood gushed into his mouth. All of a sudden, Malfoy stopped fighting. Harry spat out the arm and wiped his mouth on his sleeve with horror. He expected the blond to look shocked or mad, but when he looked up at him, Malfoy was frozen. His eyes gleamed brightly.

"Deny that you want me now Potter," he purred wickedly.

"I don't wan-" Harry's tongue immediately swelled thickly in his mouth. The rest of the sentence was swallowed.

"As I thought." The grey eyes gleamed with bright intensity as he tugged down his sleeve, covering the dripping wound. A splash fell on his finger, and he sucked it into his mouth with a wet plop. Their eyes met, and Malfoy swirled his tongue around his finger before removing it. "Stay away from Weasley, Harry. Or I don't know what I'll do." He cast a dark look at the rumpled-looking brunet, before he opened the door and exited the bathroom.