Draco's parents left him at Platform 9 ¾ without much fuss. His mother kissed him on the cheek, and his father squeezed his shoulder and told him to behave like a Malfoy. Draco wasn't very interested in behaving like a Malfoy, not like his father thought he ought to, but he smiled and promised that he would, then walked off to the train, dragging his trunk behind him. When he had his things stored in a compartment, he went back out to the platform and waited for Harry.

The Boy-Who-Lived came through the barrier before long, and Draco waved him over, doing his best not to wrinkle his nose when he saw that his friend was talking with the Weasley twins. The reaction was really more reflex than anything; the other Draco had felt a fair amount of respect for Fred and George. Even in school, he'd secretly thought they were brilliant. He hadn't minded the female Weasley either, nor had he been particularly disgusted by any of the older brothers. Even that prat Percy had been competent. In all honesty, Ron was the only one his other self really had a problem with, and that likely had more to do with years of built up hatred than any true shortcomings on the Weasel's part. None of them were really all that awful, not how his father had implied they were.

That meant he ought not to judge them based on prejudices he now knew to be false.

"Harry," said Draco, nodding politely. He looked at the twins. "You must be Fred and George. Professor Snape is my godfather, and all of last year he wrote me about how much he appreciates your sense of humor." Draco leaned forward conspiratorially. "I wasn't supposed to say anything since it's his job to like Slytherins best, but he really only takes so many points because he doesn't want anyone to know that you're actually his favorites."

They gawped at him.

"I'm Draco, by the way," he went on. "Draco Malfoy. Our parents hate each other, and there's a chance that my father is watching from somewhere on the platform and having a fit, but quite frankly, I don't respect him enough to care."

"You're Draco Malfoy?" blurted one.

"But Malfoys are supposed to be evil."

"You don't look evil."

"Although you did say that Professor Snape likes us-"

"-and we were really tempted to take advantage of that-"

"But he doesn't like us at all-"

"Does he?"

Draco blinked. "That is irritating," he said. "But no, he does not like you. Then again, if it makes you feel better, he doesn't particularly like anybody. I heard that he loved Harry's mother when they were in school, but they got in a fight and she married Harry's father instead. You-Know-Who killed her before they could reconcile, and it left Snape bitter." The memories had been left in a pensieve in Dumbledore's office, and Voldemort made them public knowledge after the final battle, wanting to destroy the 'traitor's' reputation.

Fred, George and Harry all blinked in surprise.

"You're serious," said the twin on the left.

"It's common knowledge in some circles. Just don't let him know that I told you, or I'll get my father involved-" He frowned. "I really do sound like a prat when I say that, don't I? Well, I'll just curse you. I know some nasty ones." He looked at Harry. "Have one of them help you with your trunk—you're really too scrawny to do it yourself—and let's find a place to sit."

"You don't have to-" Harry started.

"Oh, it's our pleasure," said a twin. Draco tried and failed to figure out which one.

"I'd tell you to wear name badges, but I have the feeling you'd mix them up on purpose."

Fred and George laughed. "Our mum makes jumpers with our initials, and we swap 'em on her all the time."

"It's quite sad that she doesn't know her own offspring."

"But maybe you should keep that in mind."

"If our mum can't figure out which of us is which-"

"-you don't have a chance."

Draco pursed his lips. Now he'd have to figure them out, or risk being driven mad by the notion that a pair of Weasleys had outwitted him. "We'll see." He paused, then added, "And call me Draco. You're both tolerable, and I think we're all mature enough to put aside familial dislike and become friends at some point." Besides, everyone called my bastard of a future self 'Malfoy,' and I want to set a different precedent.

They looked surprised. "Aright, Draco."

"I mean, you seem a decent enough sort."

Draco led them to where he'd put his luggage. One of the twins shoved Harry's trunk next to Draco's, and then they waved jauntily before heading off, mentioning something about Lee Jordan and a tarantula. Draco watched them go, still attempting to tell which was which, before deciding that it was a lost cause for the time being. He shook his head and turned his focus to Harry.

The Boy-Who-Lived was frowning at him. "Was it true, what you said about my mother and that professor?"

"Yes," said Draco. "But I wouldn't worry. I think all that you and Snape need to do is talk it out. He's a bit grumpy, but he does have a good side, and he's a brilliant friend to have if you can manage to get on it."

"I don't know if I want him to like me. Not if you think he'd really be so awful just because of jealousy. That doesn't seem right."

"Oh, it's more than that," Draco assured him. "You see, everyone knows that he really, really didn't like your father or godfather, even before everything that happened with your mother. They were horrible to him in school, so it's understandable that he's got a lot of resentment built up." Draco saw Harry's devastated expression and quickly added, "They grew up, though—your father and godfather, I mean. Everything I've heard said that your dad was a hero during his last few years. He just needed a bit of time to get there."

Harry frowned. "What about my godfather? I didn't know I had one."

"I bet no one wanted to tell you," said Draco. "See, he's in wizarding prison because everyone thinks he offed a bunch of Muggles and betrayed your parents to You-Know-Who."

The boy looked even more horrified. "You mean, it's his fault they were killed?"

Draco grinned; it was time to start operation 'Find a New Place to Live.'

"Well, that's what people think. Me, I'm not certain he wasn't framed. It's said there was this other wizard who confronted your godfather, and they got in this huge duel. The other wizard was killed and so were twelve Muggles. But after everything was all cleared up, someone found one of that other wizard's fingers. And-"

Draco was cut off when the door opened, and Ron Weasley poked his head into the compartment. "Is there anyone sitting here? Everywhere else is full."

This is too perfect, thought Draco, catching a glimpse of the rat in Ron's pocket. He had a feeling this was going to be even easier than he'd originally thought.

"Nope. Go ahead and sit," said Harry. He remembered Draco and glanced at him. "If that's alright."

"I suppose so," Draco drawled. He nodded to Ron. "Weasley."

Ron's nose wrinkled. Draco tried not to notice that there was a spot of dirt on it. "How'd you know I'm a Weasley?"

"I have a witty speech I could give in response to that, but I'm learning to be polite, so I don't think I will," said Draco, remembering what he'd said the last time around. He smirked at the clueless expression on the boy's face. "I just met the twins actually, and you look quite like them."

He looked even more irritated. "Oh."

"Don't look so put out," said Draco. "I was stating a fact, not suggesting that you are, or should be like either of them in any way."

Ron flushed, but he looked at Draco with something akin to actual like, and Draco felt absurdly pleased. While he didn't think befriending Ron Weasley would serve much purpose, there was something about the amicable expression on the weasel's face that was… nice, almost. Draco was pretty sure the only time Ron had looked at the other Draco with anything besides hate or disgust had been after he'd gotten turned into a ferret his fourth year, and that'd only been to laugh at him. This was different. Better.

Not that Draco would let Ron Weasley know he valued his good opinion.

"Thanks…" He frowned. "Er, what was your name?"

"I'm Draco Malfoy- don't make that face," snapped Draco when Ron looked disgusted. "Weren't you the one who was just angry at me for identifying you based on your family? Really, I-"

"Sorry," Ron cut in, sincerity apparent in his voice. "It's just habit; I really didn't mean to do that." He looked at Harry. "And who're you?"

"Harry Potter."

Ron's eyes widened. "You're-"

"He's a boy who survived a murder attempt when he was a baby. He can't remember anything about the incident and hasn't known he was a wizard until just a few weeks ago," Draco cut in. "He's also disgustingly modest. Oddly enough, he doesn't like people staring at a scar that reminds him of the night his parents were killed."

Ron looked horrified. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean- or, I wasn't-"

Good Merlin, Draco wondered if Ron bungled his way through every conversation he had, or if he was making a special exception for Harry and himself.

"It's okay," said Harry, smiling at both Ron and Draco. "I don't mind. Or, I do, but I'm not too offended."

"Thank Merlin," Ron breathed.

Harry's attention returned to Draco. "Can you go back to telling the story now? About why you think my godfather was innocent?"

Draco had to work not to laugh when the rat in Ron's lap suddenly perked up. Oh, this was going to be fun. "Right," said Draco. "Remember how I said they only found one of that other wizard's fingers?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, all the other dead Muggles were just dead. So why would that wizard—Peter Pettigrew, was his name—why would he be completely disintegrated? And then, the big thing, if he were disintegrated, why would his finger still be there? Seems a bit odd. I mean, I think the consensus was that Sirius Black left it as a memento, but that doesn't make sense; any halfway decent psychopath would've picked something more interesting than a finger if that were the case. Like a skull, or a severed limb."

The rat twitched.

"That does make sense," said Harry.

"You think Sirius Black is innocent?" asked Ron, catching onto the topic quickly.

"Uh-huh," drawled Draco. "I'd wager Peter Pettigrew was the spy, and that he killed all the Muggles and then cut off his own finger and left Black there to take the blame. I mean, it's not like anyone knows Black did it. He never got a trial."

"I thought I heard that Black kept yelling about killing someone," said Ron.

"You're a bit dim, aren't you?" asked Draco. "If one of your friends had just betrayed two of your other friends to You-Know-Who, don't you think you'd want to kill him too? Also, from what I've heard, James Potter and Sirius Black were best friends. Like brothers. Pettigrew was close to them, but my father says he was a weak, needy little bastard who attached himself to people who were more competent than he was. If he'd thought Voldemort-" Ron flinched, and Draco smirked. "-would win, he was just the sort who would've put his cards with the Dark Lord. A filthy little rat, I believe is the exact phrase my father used."

They all looked at each other speculatively. Pettigrew was practically shaking in Ron's lap.

"But that's all conjecture," said Draco flippantly. "I mean, we're first years. I'm sure trained Aurors would've considered all of this. They've probably looked into it."

"Aurors?"

"They're magical law enforcement," said Ron. "And Draco's right; they would've already thought of everything he just said, I imagine."

"I dunno," said Harry. "What if they haven't? I mean, my godfather could be in prison for something he didn't do."

"Hmm… you're right. I'll be sure to talk to Dumbledore about it. He'll be busy with the feast tonight, but I'll find him first thing tomorrow morning and tell him everything I just told you, and-" The compartment door opened again, but Draco didn't mind the interruption; judging by Pettigrew's twitchiness, he'd already done everything he needed to do.

"Have you seen a toad? I've lost mine."

Neville Longbottom stood in the doorway, nearly shaking he seemed so frightened. Draco's last memory of him involved the beheading of a snake and Neville standing up to Voldemort when Draco himself hadn't had the courage to do so. The contrast between that Neville and the one in front of him was every bit as prominent as the one between current and future Harry.

For a moment, Draco considered treating Neville with deference because of the person he'd eventually grow into, but quickly decided he'd wait to start admiring the other boy until he became someone worth being admired.

"Hello," Draco said with a smirk. "I'm Draco Malfoy, and this is Harry Potter and Ron Weasley."

Neville paled; any decent wizard had heard of the Malfoy family, Harry was Harry, and the Weasleys had already produced a Head Boy, a Quidditch captain, and a prefect over the course of the last decade, so all three of their last names were quite well known. Draco supposed he hadn't had to introduce all of them at once like that, but seeing the sudden star-struck look on Neville's face was amusing enough to make the awkward roll call worth it.

"Oh, er- I'm Neville Longbottom."

"And you're missing your toad," Draco repeated.

"Y-yes…"

"Well, alright then." He shrugged, pulled out his wand, and said, "Accio Neville's toad."

"You can already do magic?" asked Harry.

"It's not working," said Ron.

"Give it a moment," said Draco. A moment later, the toad flew into the compartment, and Draco snatched it out of the air as though catching a snitch. Neville looked at him with open adoration. Draco's lips twitched. He wondered why his other self hadn't figured out earlier that being a good guy was much more enjoyable than serving a megalomaniac. People liked good guys.

"That was brilliant," said Neville.

"Yes, well. I am rather impressive." They all gave him a look, and Draco rolled his eyes. "I was being facetious. I meant to say, thank you, Neville. I appreciate the compliment. Would you like to sit with us?"

Neville looked shocked. "My grandmother told me I ought to watch out for Malfoys."

"My father told me I shouldn't associate with Weasleys, but I've already acquainted myself with three of them. They really aren't philistines, no matter what he'd have me think." He glanced at Ron. "Although, and it's been bothering me since you sat down—there is a spot of dirt on your nose. It'd make me feel better about associating with you if you took care of it."

Ron glared at him. "You may not be evil, but you are a prat."

"I try."

Ron muttered something about not needing to try, cheeks flushing when Draco's eyes flashed in his direction.

"Pardon, Weasley?"

"Nothing, Malfoy," said Ron. He went for an innocent smile and quickly changed the subject. "So… What house do you think you'll be in? I'm hoping for Gryffindor, since that's the best one."

"That's a rather prejudiced statement," said Draco.

"Oh, please. I bet you'd say the same about Slytherin."

Draco shook his head.

"Actually, I wouldn't. I don't even want to be a Slytherin. It's a fine house, but everyone expects I'll go there. I want something different." He'd thought about this a lot. Slytherin would be a bad influence on him, and he worried it'd take him down the same path he'd followed before. He also didn't want to be surrounded by people who would shun him as soon as his 'blood traitor' beliefs came to light. Gryffindor was hardly an option, not when he knew that deep down, he was nothing more than a pathetic coward (other Draco's memories had taught him that much). That left Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, and the choice between the two was fairly obvious. "Not Gryffindor, because I'm really not one of those loud hero types," he said aloud, taking care to sound as though he were just working all of this out, "and Hufflepuffs are annoying." He nodded to himself. "I think Ravenclaw would be best."

"That makes sense," said Neville. He frowned. "I'm scared, though. I think I might end up in Hufflepuff."

"Oh, I think you'll be in Gryffindor," said Draco. "You were nervous about asking for help with your toad, but you clearly planned to visit every compartment until you found him. You did something you weren't comfortable with to find a toad you're clearly embarrassed by, for no reason other than knowing you should. That's very Gryffindor."

Neville all but preened.

"You are smart," Ron told Draco, sounding surprised. "I guess I see why you're thinking Ravenclaw."

Harry was looking at them blankly. "Hagrid mentioned the houses, but he made it sound like Gryffindor was the only good one."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Hagrid is biased. There are good things about every house. Ravenclaws are intelligent, Gryffindors are brave, Hufflepuffs are kind and hard-working, and Slytherins are ambitious and known for self-preservation."

"Slytherin is where the evil wizards come from," Ron added.

"No," said Draco. "It's where the most successful wizards come from. See, there are evil wizards from other houses, but Slytherins are usually in the highest percentile of whatever they do, which includes being evil. I'm certain there were evil Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, but no one's heard of them, because even though they were just as bad, they weren't as good at it."

Ron blinked. "That was a very Slytherin thing to say."

"Oh, I'm very Slytherin. I'll ask for Ravenclaw, but I don't know if it'll say yes."

"What does that mean?" asked Ron, wrinkling his nose. "Asking? Fred and George said we've got to fight a troll to see where we go."

Draco blinked. He wondered whether Ron was stupid or just very gullible. His other self's observations weren't impartial enough for him to tell. "Riiiight," he drawled slowly.

"We don't have to fight a troll?"

He shrugged. "Maybe I was going to ask the troll."

"You know," Neville said, eyes wide. "You already know how we're going to be Sorted."

"Maybe I do. Maybe I don't."

They all stared. Harry looked terrified. "Do we have to fight a troll?"

"Just the purebloods," Draco said reassuringly, knowing that Harry was probably twice as scared about the whole thing as the rest of them; he'd been raised by Muggles after all, and wouldn't have much idea of what he was getting into. "They have to see how inbreeding's affected our brains. You'll just have to put on a hat. Me, I've already researched how to kill trolls, so I'll be fine. It's these two I'm not so sure of…"

Ron and Neville looked to be on the brink of panic. "You're kidding, Draco. I mean, everyone knows the Weasleys don't inbreed."

And that's what you choose to focus on?

"Oh, I know all the old family trees. There are at least two intermarriages within the last three generations of yours," said Draco. Ron went red. "I'm safe, I know—the Malfoys and Blacks are from totally separate lines. But you… Well, we'll see."

"Draco!" Ron crowed, face even whiter than usual. He looked on the verge of a heart-attack, and Draco decided to be merciful.

"Right, now that you're all worked up about it, I want you to think for just a second: who, exactly, did you hear about the troll from?"

Ron's eyes widened with realization.

"Those two little… and you made me believe them!"

"Sorry," said Draco unapologetically, laughing at the expression on Ron's face. Harry joined in, followed by a relieved Neville. After a moment, even Ron quit sulking enough to give a weak chuckle or two.

Draco was thrilled. He couldn't believe that his other self had passed up conversation like this for watching Crabbe and Goyle stuff their faces. These people… well, he could really see these people (maybe even Weasley) eventually becoming his friends. Not allies or servants or minions like he'd had before, but real friends.

It was a very nice thought.

…

Draco didn't say much on the boat ride up to the castle. He was more nervous about the sorting than he thought he should be. He'd already determined that he'd ask about Ravenclaw, but he was worried that he wouldn't have time to do so. The other Draco's memories told him that the Hat had put him in Slytherin without hardly touching his head.

Surely this time would be different. Draco, for all he'd been raised to think of the house as superior, didn't want to be in Slytherin. There was too much that could go wrong if he were in that house, too many variables he didn't want to deal with. That Hat had to understand.

But what if it understood not to put him in Slytherin, but decided he wasn't smart enough for Ravenclaw? Draco didn't want to end up in Hufflepuff. It wouldn't be the end of the world, but… he just thought Ravenclaw would be best. Less embarrassing than the house of leftovers, certainly.

Even with his doubts, the others were clearly more worried than Draco. Despite knowing that they wouldn't have to fight a troll, Ron and Neville were fidgety, and Harry was still as a statue. Draco was actually a bit relieved when they finally reached the shore and McGonagall led them to the school; the tension in the boat was really getting uncomfortable.

When the ghosts descended upon the chamber where they'd been told to wait, he even found something to keep his mind from the sorting.

"D'you know Slytherin's ghost murdered Ravenclaw's ghost?" he asked, speaking a bit more loudly than usual so he could be heard above the gasps and whispers of frightened students. "She's called the Grey Lady, but her real name is Helena Ravenclaw. A long time ago, she stole her mother's diadem and ran. Her mother got sick and sent the Bloody Baron, who loved the Grey Lady, to fetch her so that they could meet one last time. She refused to listen, so the Bloody Baron got mad and killed her. When he got his head back, the Baron was so cut up about what he'd done that he offed himself too." Draco pointed. "See, that's him. He's still got blood on his shirt."

Neville and Ron looked like they were going to be sick, and even Harry went a bit green. "That's… awful," said Harry.

"But it was a good distraction," said Draco. McGonagall returned to lead them to the Great Hall, and he added reassuringly, "Don't worry about the Baron; the Grey Lady had it coming. He shouldn't go after you so long as you behave."

Ron whimpered, and Draco chuckled to himself as they lined up for the sorting. He waited impatiently while the Hat sang its song, humming along under his breath despite the glares some of the other students shot him. Soon, McGonagall began calling names, and Draco balled his hands into fists (to keep them from shaking) and watched as familiar faces were sorted into the same houses that the other Draco's memories told him to expect. Even Longbottom was put back in Gryffindor, though Draco hadn't doubted he would be.

Draco's name was announced soon after Neville's. He sauntered over to the stool, feigning confidence he didn't have. Smirking at McGonagall, Draco took a seat and tried to breathe evenly as the Hat was placed atop his head.

"Well, isn't this odd."

I imagine it is, thought Draco. My head's an interesting place, isn't it?

"Interesting," said the Hat. "But also perplexing."

Well, that's a good sign. At least it means I'm not going straight into Slytherin.

"Oh, no. You're too different from the person you might have been for that. Your placement will not be nearly so quick this time around. Your soul has aspects of both your current and future selves, and the final product is like nothing I've seen."

Obviously. But, if you haven't noticed, I'm very smart now, so I'd like to be placed in Ravenclaw. It'd keep things simple for you, and-

"Ravenclaw?" The Hat laughed. "It's hardly in your nature to purse knowledge for the sake of knowledge, young Malfoy. Ravenclaw isn't the house for you." Draco started to panic, but the Hat kept speaking before he could protest. "Hufflepuff doesn't suit either; you're not especially fair, nor hardworking. You would struggle there. And Slytherin… No. You've seen how being too ambitious and self-serving destroyed you in one reality. No matter how much cunning you retain, you're willing to do anything to keep from letting those particular qualities drive your actions again."

Draco's eyed boggled. You're kidding.

"You destroyed years of reality to go back in time and play the role of a hero. You were reckless and courageous, and are now prepared to take great risks to redeem yourself. Draco Malfoy, this time around, it better be GRYFINNDOR!"

The Great Hall went utterly silent. Draco numbly took off the Hat and handed it to a stunned McGonagall, trying to wrap his head around what'd just happened. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved that it wasn't Slytherin, horrified that he'd been put in the house he'd been raised to despise his entire life, or...

Grateful? he considered, thinking that he'd be sharing a house with Harry Potter if nothing else. His parents would be furious, but he knew they'd soon have other things to be furious about anyway. Instinct made him want to protest, but in all actuality, there wasn't anything wrong with being a Gryffindor.

Really, he almost couldn't help but feel a little proud. Maybe he wasn't as big of a coward as he'd thought. Maybe he really could be different from the awful person he'd turned into before.

The tension drained from his shoulders at the thought, and when he slid off the stool, it was with a smile on his face. His confidence only grew when the sound of enthusiastic clapping reached him from across the Great Hall. He looked to the source, eyes widening when he saw that Ron Weasley had started the applause. Harry quickly joined in, and then Neville began clapping from his place at the Gryffindor table. The rest of the house followed suit, although slightly reluctantly, and the last bit of his doubt vanished when the Weasley twins let out ear-piercing whistles.

He'd have real friends in Gryffindor. Yes, some people were obviously suspicious (a handful even glare at him outright), but he knew that even those reactions would likely go away once he proved himself.

Ignoring the more unfriendly responses, Draco took a seat next to Neville. The other boy grinned. "I don't think anyone was expecting that."

"Especially not me," Draco said. He shook his head. "And to think, it didn't even consider the other houses."

"Then I guess you're braver than you knew," said Neville.

He nudged Neville with an elbow. "Says you. And you thought you'd be a Hufflepuff."

Neville's eyes practically sparkled at Draco's good-natured ribbing. Draco had to turn back to the sorting to hide the way his lips twitched into a half-smile at the happiness on the other boy's face.

After that, everything went as expected until Harry's name was called. The Great Hall went silent when McGonagall placed the Hat on his head, and Draco waited for him to be put in Gryffindor like he had in the other reality.

Instead, the Hat said nothing at all. Even the teachers started murmuring as it deliberated. And deliberated. And deliberated.

Then the Hat shifted, the tear at its brim opening as it called out, "SLYTHERIN!"

Draco nearly fainted. Of all the things he'd expected, that hadn't been it.

He gawped for a moment, mind whirring. He was the only variable that would've changed Harry's sorting from what it'd been in the other timeline, and seeing as he'd spoken up in favor of Ravenclaw more than Slytherin, it was more likely that the difference hadn't come from any positive comments he'd made, but rather his lack of negative ones. He couldn't be sure, but he had to wonder whether Harry hadn't disliked his other self so much that he'd asked not to be in Slytherin because of it. It was a possibility, although it didn't matter either way. Harry was a Slytherin, and while the change made Draco the slightest bit less sure of how things would turn out in this timeline, he was also impressed; he really hadn't thought the boy had it in him.

Draco noticed suddenly that no one else in the Great Hall seemed to think half so well of Harry's sorting. With a huff, he brought his hands together pointedly, slapping his palms so that the sound resonated through the large room. Neville and Ron quickly followed his example. Before long, the Slytherins caught on, and then the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. A few more Gryffindors joined in, although the house remained silent for the most part.

Draco met Harry's eyes and gave him a thumbs up. Harry grinned back, looking dazed but pleased.

The tension in the Great Hall soon faded, and McGonagall started calling names once more. Draco watched Harry cautiously, but it was apparent that there was nothing to worry about. The other boy gravitated towards Daphne Greengrass almost immediately, which was the best thing he could have done; Daphne had been carefully neutral when the other Draco knew her, and Harry could use a friend like her in his house.

Slightly more reassured about the Boy-Who-Lived, Draco leaned back to watch the last of the sorting. Before long, Ron was placed in Gryffindor and headed straight for Draco and Neville, cheeks going pink when the twins cheered boisterously. Finally, Blaise Zabini landed in Slytherin. Dumbledore concluded the sorting with his usual succinct speech, and then the Great Hall came alive with sound as everyone tucked in.

"I can't believe it," said Neville as they started to eat. "Harry Potter is in Slytherin, and a Malfoy got put in Gryffindor. That's just…"

"It's ridiculous," Draco agreed.

"He seemed so nice," said Ron.

Draco kicked him in the shins. "He is nice, you git. Not all Slytherins are bad, and it'll hurt him if you quit being his friend because of his house."

Ron had the grace to look abashed. "I guess… I mean, it's just… I can't think of any good Slytherins of the top of my head. They're all so evil."

Well, it wasn't as though Draco had expected him to have any tact.

"Honestly, Ron. I can name four off the top of my head. There's bloody Merlin, for one. On top of that, Regulus Black betrayed the Death Eaters and died trying to sabotage Voldemort. My aunt Andromeda was a Slytherin, and she married a Muggleborn even though she was disowned for it—she became a member of the Order of the Phoenix later on, actually. Then there's Severus Snape, who's Slytherin's Head of House-"

"That greasy git-"

"-is my godfather," Draco interrupted. He was aware that Pettigrew was probably listening, so he kept his information to things anyone would've heard if they knew anything about the war. "And he served as a spy for Dumbledore. He's a bit prickly, but he risked his life to help the Order."

Ron frowned. "Two of the people you named were Death Eaters-"

"Regulus Black wouldn't have had much choice," said Draco. "I don't think you get how the old pureblood families work, not the elite ones. To them, it's either behave like an elitist bigot or get disowned, and I won't fault him for wanting to remain a part of his family."

Ron nodded reluctantly, although he completely missed the outside implication of Draco's words.

Neville didn't. "Are you going to get… you know? Because you haven't acted like much of an elitist bigot so far."

Draco sighed. "Eventually, I imagine I will. Being in Gryffindor is bad enough, but I have no plans to behavior in a manner that my father would consider at all appropriate." He looked at Ron. "I wouldn't be talking with you if I wanted to make him happy… I wouldn't be talking to either of you, actually. I would've thrown a fit about my house, and I'd already be complaining about all the Muggleborns at this table. But because I won't do any of it, well... Let's just say Lucius won't be happy."

Both of them stared at him in horror, obviously not knowing what to say.

Ron was the first one to take a crack at it. "If you need a place to stay, there's extra space at the Burrow," he said, looking embarrassed. "I mean, it wouldn't be anything like what you're used to, but Charlie and Bill are both gone, so their rooms are open…"

Draco gaped. "I'm a Malfoy."

The other boy's expression closed up, and he glared. "Fine then. If you'd rather live on the street-"

"No, you stupid prat," Draco cut in quickly. "That's not what I meant. It's just- your family doesn't like Malfoys. Our parents have a feud. I would've thought you wouldn't even want them to know you're friends with me. Then you say you'd let me live with you…" The Slytherins he knew wouldn't have done anything like that; if they had connections that their families wouldn't approve of, they hid them until they could disentangle themselves from the unwanted party as quietly as possible. They didn't befriend undesirables and offer them places to live.

His other self had been wrong, Draco decided firmly. Ron Weasley wasn't so bad at all. A bit of a blundering idiot, but decent. And maybe Draco could even help him work on the blundering idiot part.

"Oh," said Ron. "But you're good for a Malfoy, and I bet my parents would see that too."

"Well… thanks." Draco cleared his throat. "But I wouldn't not have a place to go, I don't think. If nothing else, I have that aunt I was talking about; I bet she'd take in a fellow disowned family member." He couldn't mention that he hoped he could wrangle a freed Sirius Black into taking care of him; that would be a bit premature, all things considered.

"S'not a problem," Ron said.

There was an awkward silence, but Fred and George broke it when they came over and plopped down on either side of Draco, asking him if he had any sneaky Slytherin tips that'd help them with their pranks. Draco smirked and began giving them lessons on cunning and strategy, figuring he'd better put his years of extra knowledge to good use.

If nothing else, maybe he could wrangle them into giving him free stuff at their joke shop after they got around to starting it up.

...

Author's Note:

Thank you so much for the reviews. I really don't have much to say. I think I answered any questions that people had, but if there's something you want to know, feel free to leave a review or PM and I'll get back to you ASAP. I'm glad people seem to be liking it so far, and I hope the positive reactions will continue.