disclaimer: I own nothing but the idea for the fanfiction, cause otherwise this is what would have happened, or something much like it. Also, for the record, I am making no profit off of this other than my cousin, who paid me to use the idea of Harry meeting Draco before Harry knew he was a wizard. XD
warnings; OC-ness, death, sarcasm, mad werewolves, and, uh, shonen ai (slash), and future ratings up, possibly. And possibly so much more. *sniff* OH! And language, and an evil-ish!Harry... and and... and... a very streetwise and not so innocent Harry to boot with the evil-ish one.... but then that's all destined to wrapped with a nice silver ribbon, no?
a/n; Oh, and Miss Lala Lulubell shows up again, don't worry.... for those of you who hoped of her being something more. :3 Uh, and before hand, I'm reducing the number of students considerably, since Hogwarts is supposedly the best school for Witchcraft and Wizardry. :3 Just how, uh, considerably you'll see. You'll see... From what I understand each house has supposedly 250 students each.... *mumbles*
The words spoken are mocking us.
"But those written are not?"
It is simply a maze of witless fools.
"That don't really care what happens."
So you agree now?
"The world is a maze of tightly woven lies."
But, there must be some truth.
"Where?"
Perhaps in the thicket of lies.
"Then let us see."
-
"Oh that's it, Muggle, who would have thought you'd turn out to be a Wizard! Off the streets no less, and a Muggle-born too...." The blond had trailed off in disgust, sneering at the unruly haired boy, who stared back with only a tiny spark of emotion showing in his emerald eyes.
"Same, and I do have a name. Shocking as it may be. So if you're going to shove words, its Harry. And maybe if you think you're half as smart as you claim..." Harry trailed off as the shopkeeper brought back his newly fitted robes in a nice neat box.
"Mr. Potter, your robes are ready," she said kindly, not even giving a second glance at the Malfoy as she stared at the Golden Boy.
And Harry let the glare form on his features as he took the box from her hands, paid, and left without so much as a goodbye over to Hagrid, who had appeared worried that Harry hadn't shown quickly enough to eat the now slightly-melted ice cream.
-
The compartment door slid open to reveal a very livid Draco Malfoy, and his two bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle, staring down at the tiny train room that only had Harry Potter in it. The boy had just began to raise his head blearily before he retreated as far away from the door as possible.
"Don't worry, Potter, we wouldn't dare touch the Golden Boy," sneered the blond, "So why aren't you basking in the glory of being the Boy Who Lived?"
The boy that had been addressed just stared blankly ahead of him until he sighed with an unfathomable expression, "Who would want to be the Boy Who Lived? In the end," the sarcasm was heavy by now, "I'm just going to be a puppet, and ridiculed, and judged, and be treated like I am the world's personal God descent. And I probably will end up hating it so much that I'll snap and just join Voldemort! No one'd care any'ays, only that the had lost their hope. Annoying how this world isn't so different then the streets? Hmmm.... the streets are looking so much nicer now... No fame there! Nope just and ordinary, useless street rat scrounging for life."
Harry paused and scowled when he realized he had started ranting sarcastically, except near the end. The streets were looking better to him than a school! He didn't need fans (he thought he would vomit at the thought) doting on him like he was a God, that... that... He hated that frankly. And that the Magical World seemed to think infants could murder people, really.
"Who wouldn't want to be the Boy Who Lived, Potter? People would do whatever you say," Malfoy replied back, the sneer a tad bit less.
"Then obvious very few magic folk pay attention to what happens to Muggle Celebrities. Awful stuff, really, makes you run from being famous if you get to know what happens. Or understand it, at least," mused Harry quietly, very glad he had stuck to paying close attention to the truths of famousness rather than the glamour.
"Well then, Potter, we'll get along just fine. Perhaps we should start over again? The name's Draco. Draco Malfoy," the blond spoke without the sneer, and offered his hand to Harry.
Who in reply, returned the gestures, "Pleased to meet you, Draco. Harry. Harry Potter, but really just Harry."
-
Are we mad?
"Perhaps."
We believe there is truth in lies.
"So?"
Don't you find that mad?
"Madness is contagious. For all we know, the sane are insane, and the mad are the sane ones."
But that means they're lying.
"Exactly."
-
Draco raised an eyebrow delicately, then he smirked, "The pleasure's all mine, Harry. So I hope you'll be in Slytherin, too."
"Slytherin?"
"Don't tell me you don't know about the four houses?" Draco sounded exasperated at that.
"Well sorry I don't know about these houses! Entirely not my fault," He pointed out, and he felt a tinge of anger at not knowing. Since that meant Draco could gloat some more. Harry noticed randomly that the two bodyguards were now standing outside of the train room. And the door was closed. Good. Really.
"Well, then. Harry, there are four houses in Hogwarts. Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor. The Sorting Hat divides the first years into the houses based on personality, and other things," the blond paused to make sure Harry got it, "Slytherin values ambition, cunning, and resourcefulness. (Harry agreed that he fit the last two, he was cunning (when he wanted), and he was resourceful due to Lala.) Ravenclaw values intelligence, creativity, wit, and wisdom. Hufflepuff values hard work, loyalty, tolerance, and fair play. Gryffindor values courage, daring, nerve, and chivalry."
"Now I know where I might be headed. I can be cunning and resourceful when need be... certainly needed to. But I do not fit fair play, courage, daring, or chivalry. Or at least, I don't think I do. So that leaves Slytherin or Ravenclaw. But you have to admit, from my logic the two seem very much the same. In aspects of course," Harry pointed out, seeing as cunning and resourcefulness fell hand in hand with intelligence, creativity, wit, and wisdom.
"Have you no ambitions?"
"I do! To get people to stop staring."
"That's considered an ambition? I think I'd rather like-"
"No you wouldn't. No wait you would. For all I know you could be a shallow brat that needs to be brought down a few, but I don't know. So, you don't know me. And it does count as an ambition because its so damn hard to do! And don't mock me," Harry snapped, half-glaring at the blond who had mocked him by staring wide-eyed in a comical fashion, "Therefore I have no damn idea where I'm headed. But I hope wherever it is they aren't star-struck imbeciles."
"Fancy language for someone on the streets," Draco mused in an off-handed way.
"Fancy language? A sharp tongue is good for the streets, its.... useful to get what you want, or to scram from unwanted situations," was the delicately put response.
"Which means you'll do better in Slytherin than any other house."
"Why?"
"Since you'll probably get along better with Slytherins than Ravenclaw," Draco pointed out, "Since you get along fine with me."
"You wouldn't be saying that if I had been a Muggleborn," Harry countered.
"True," agreed Draco with his trademark smirk, "But besides that, we're pulling into the school now."
Harry groaned.
-
"Slytherin!"
The second the hat was over Draco's head, he was in Slytherin.
While Harry was forced to continue standing and listening to, who was it again... Hermione Granger go on and on about how she read so much about this school. Her know-it-all attitude was really starting to piss Harry off, and he had a couple students staring at him, especially Ron Weasely who had introduced himself at some point. Hermione was called up and put in Gryffindor (thank god he didn't have to listen to her anymore.) A few more people were called and then, "Harry Potter."
It was dead silent as he walked up to the stool and had the hat put on his head.
"Difficult... rather difficult... Boy, what do you think?" After not receiving an answer the hat continued, "You could do great things... You will do great things..."
"But not in Gryffindor," Harry whispered softly.
"Not in Gryffindor? Now why is that.... I see... I see, boy... I see... Well you'll do best in..." The hat said aloud, "Slytherin!"
Harry sighed slightly, before walking over to the empty spot beside Draco at the Slytherin table. Blatantly he ignored the whispers as he started talking with Draco.
"Hah! Did you see their faces? I think they're all so shocked that the Boy Who Lived is in the same house as You-Know-Who!" sneered the blond, stifling his laughter.
"Really? I was to busy being relieved that the hat didn't but me in Gryffindor! Hmm.... Wish I could go do it again to watch their faces then..." He trailed off as he looked up disinterestedly at the enchanted ceiling.
Crabbe spoke up suddenly, "I thought that Harry Potter would've been more of a goody-two-shoes."
People within hearing range stared at Crabbe as if he grew a third head, but Harry replied quickly, "And everyone seems to think infants can kill. Maybe with their adorable qualities, but certainly a Dark Lord wouldn't be bothered by that at all."
"True," reasoned Crabbe before turning to devour the feast that had suddenly appeared on the table.
Harry began to eat as Draco scanned the food a little and described the other students' expressions when the dark-haired youth had been placed in Slytherin. Harry almost choked twice, the first when Draco described Ronald Weasely's expression, the second when he described the Weasely twins' expressions, and he actually choked when the blond said that Dumbledore seemed to disapprove of Harry being in Slytherin. "But once you've been sorted, you can't be sorted again, so looks like you're stuck with us!" The blond had joked after one of the fourth years had stopped Harry from choking.
-
The Slytherins were following Snape down to the dungeons, as Snape explained the rooming arrangements to the first years.
"There are two beds per room, and I don't want a female and a male sharing a room, same gender only. First years, be sure to pick a roommate you'll get along with for a very long time, you will be sharing the room until you graduate. Now this week's password is Huiyt jrex anyk, understood? Do not give any of the other houses the passwords! Now hurry and pick out a room first years!"
Harry and Draco had quickly agreed to share a room while the other first years were arguing over it, and claimed one with its own bathroom. Bath and shower included.
"Yes! No walking to faraway places to take a bath!" Harry cheered falling face first into one of the cozy dark green beds. Looking around the room, he was glad that the colors were subtle and weren't overly done.
"What? Don't like flaunt?" Draco teased lightly, and unexpectedly as he went to sit down on the other bed.
"Not really, I don't idiots doing everything I want, unless I didn't really want to do it, of course..." mused the emerald-eyed youth as he tilted his head innocently. And got a pillow to his face. "Hey!"
"Got you Potter! Pay attention more!"
"I wasn't expecting it! 'Sides that's way to childish for a Malfoy!"
"So?"
"It doesn't make sense."
"Why?"
"Because you're s'posed to be (according to Ron) a stuck up prat."
"Why?"
"'Cause you're a Malfoy."
"Why?"
"'Cause you're father was one."
"Why?"
"I really don't want to know."
Snape then entered their room and snapped, "Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy get to sleep!" Completely, and utterly ruining their fun little banter.
But then, fun only lasts for so long.
-
"We shall be the cause of their death."
Not their death.
"Then what, brother dearest?"
Well brother, we shall bring about reason and purpose.
"But we shall have a little fun along the way, right?"
Why of course.
"Delightful."
a/n; I don't know which is longer.... but whatever. So this is just a fun little chapter, and is probably not as good as the previous, but pah. I had little plot bunnies begging me to do a different idea.
The idea is such; Voldemort, rather Tom Riddle, isn't the cold-hearted-bastard-with-no-regard-to-human-emotions-at-all, and at the final battle he gives Harry a vial containing certain memories, and tells Harry in parseltongue that he "...has always regretted it, boy..." And now I'm writing the first chapter continuing off of that thought for that fic. Which is why this chapter probably isn't as good as it could be.
But then, boys will be boys.
And writers will be attacked by plot bunnies. :D
Reviews make Draco and Harry realize their in lurve quicker, and they make this fic get to the point quicker too. xD