Harry's second day at Hogwarts was just as dramatic as the first; they had the morning off to sleep in after Astronomy, he'd spent lunch undergoing rigorous questioning by the twins (who'd been shooed away and told not to talk to Harry, by Professor McGonagall), and then had their first Transfiguration lesson after lunch. Hermione was the only one in the class that managed to turn her needle into a match, and Harry wasn't at all pleased with his lack of success; how in Merlin's name was he supposed to turn himself into a wolf, if he couldn't even manage a match? He listened carefully as McGonagall tried to explain the theory behind the matches, and what their homework would be, and he even slipped his match into his pocket so that he'd be able to practice with it later.
Defence Against the Dark Arts was that afternoon, and it was the class he'd most been looking forward to. Moony didn't disappoint. He spent ten minutes answering questions – mainly from Seamus and from Hydrus – about his condition, before he told them to get their wands out and spent the afternoon teaching them a few useful spells. Most of them were ones that Harry knew – the Finger-Twitch jinx, for example, and the Body-Bind; they weren't ready to learn to Stun or Disarm, but these worked just as well in the meantime.
Harry tried to go over to talk to Blaise and Draco several times during the lesson, but was stopped by the rest of the Slytherins. Hydrus, the third time, thought it would be funny to use the Finger-Twitch jinx on him, and once Harry had recollected his wand, he used a full body bind in return and was rather pleased when Hydrus fell to the ground with a thud. He blinked angrily at Moony.
"That's what we're after," Moony said, with a blithe smile. "See how Hydrus can't move at all? Nicely done, Harry – five points to Gryffindor."
Harry grinned, and Moony winked before he turned around to help Lavender; Harry just knew it was to get Hydrus back for the train yesterday. Unfortunately, though, Draco lost those points Harry'd earned, after only a few minutes, for calling Neville a bloodtraitor. That seemed to delight the Slytherins to no end, and that in turn, made Harry suspect Draco'd been told to do it. Ron didn't appear to have made that distinction though.
"That little git," Harry heard him growl, and he and Hermione grabbed an arm each before Ron could go over and lose them any more points. "Ignore him, Neville," Ron said firmly, when he'd settled enough to not lunge at Draco.
"Of course you'd say that, Weasley," a blonde girl whispered, keeping an eye on Moony, who was helping a trio of Slytherins, all of whom had stayed out of the dispute. "You and your family are just as-" Lavender stepped up to the other girl, flanked by Parvati, and was probably about to defend Ron, when Moony cut in.
"That's enough, I think," he said quietly, but firmly. He did not look impressed. No one lost points – Moony had been distracted with other students and so couldn't tell who'd said what and when – but he dismissed them all early; he let the Slytherins (and Draco) leave five minutes before the Gryffindors – probably to avoid any casualties in the corridors – and then let the Gryffindors go. Harry stayed behind.
"Well, that went well," Moony sighed, sitting down on his desk.
"I thought it was a good lesson," Harry said, sitting down on a desk in the front row. "I just wish we weren't with the Slytherins." Moony looked rather like he thought the same thing, but he didn't vocalise it.
"Mmmm," was all he said, and then sighed. "About the train-"
"It's okay," Harry said. "I talked to Padfoot about it last night."
"And what did Sirius have to say?" Moony asked, looking unsure about wanting to hear Harry's response.
"That everything has consequences – or that was the gist, anyway. He said not to do anything if I can't live with what comes next."
"Good advice," Moony said. "As your teacher, I'm not sure that I should be saying that – I should be saying 'don't hex anyone, ever', but as a person... well, there are far worse moral codes to stand by." He hesitated. "Nice body-bind, by the way."
"Thanks," Harry said, grinning.
"Even if you weren't supposed to have done it," Moony added.
"You shouldn't have given me points then," Harry countered. Moony smiled reluctantly.
"I won't next time," he warned, and Harry nodded, not bothered by that. "Draco's taking some time to adjust, apparently."
"Apparently," Harry sighed.
"It's not easy," Moony said. "Sirius wanted to be Sorted into Gryffindor, and even he struggled."
"I get that it's put him in a hard position, but he doesn't have to be a git about it," Harry muttered. "He can hang around with Slytherins without turning against Gryffindor, can't he? I mean, he is one; if he belonged in Slytheirn, the Hat would have put him there."
"You're right," Moony said, "but Draco probably doesn't see it so simply."
"That's a relief," Lucius said, smoothing Hydrus' second letter out. They were still yet to hear from Draco himself – Narcissa imagined that he was probably too confused to be able to formulate any sort of sense in a letter – but Hydrus had said that Draco was willing to go along with the rest of the pureblood children. "His House can't be helped now, but his opinions and behaviour still can. A snake in lion's clothing, or something similar... yes." He nodded to himself. "A good idea, Narcissa."
She nodded distractedly from behind her book on Occlumency; Merlin knew she had some secrets these days. Lucius left to write back to Hydrus, and Narcissa sighed.
She had sworn to herself the morning before that her manipulations were done, but they weren't. As evidenced by Hydrus' latest letter, Draco was very willing to go along with the rest of the Slytherins, and apparently, not at all pleased with his new House.
Narcissa didn't think that was entirely true, but she did believe that Draco probably didn't knowthat, not yet. Which was exactly why she'd suggested Hydrus include Draco in everything. Had Draco rejected the offer, then she'd have known that Draco was comfortable in Gryffindor, and well on his way to being on Potter's side. But, Draco had taken the offer, which would, in the long term, work just as well.
In the wake of his Sorting, Draco had no doubt forgotten – or at least, set aside – his problems with Hydrus and the rest of the pureblood children. But Narcissa knew that it was only a matter of time before a value or opinion of Draco's conflicted with someone else's too much for him to simply overlook. Draco belonged in Gryffindor – she and Severus had seen to that – and whether it took a day, or a year, he would eventually come to realise that, and gravitate away from his old cohort and toward Potter and others like him.
Sirius had done it, and, while Sirius had wanted Gryffindor, and Draco hadn't, the principle still applied; she and Bella had – at their aunt's request – tried to include Sirius. In the end, their attempts had pushed him away faster. The same, she was sure, would work with Draco.
And he would be safe, because with his training and his House, he'd have a choice, if or when the time came, and he would also, eventually, be happy.
Narcissa turned the page of her book.
On Friday, they finally had an encounter with Blaise. Or, rather, Hermione did. She'd been keen to get to Potions early and left before the rest of them. Blaise – never one to be late to any sort of lesson – was there too, and Snape hadn't yet arrived to open the doors.
By the time Harry and Ron arrived, with the rest of the Gryffindors (except Draco) in tow, Hermione was in tears, and at the mercy of the Slytherins, and Blaise, particularly, seemed determined to upset her as much as possible. Only Draco, Nott and Davis looked uncomfortable. Before Harry or Ron could step up and defend her, Snape arrived.
He took one look at Hermione, one look at the sneers on his students' faces, and then barked, "Explain, Mr Malfoy." Harry pulled Hermione back to the safety of the Gryffindor group, and rubbed her back. Ron asked her a question in a low voice, and she sniffed and shook her head.
"The mud-"
"The other Mr Malfoy," Snape said curtly. Hydrus curled his lip and fell silent. Draco shrank back and looked around for help. None came. "Well?" Snape asked impatiently. For the first time it occurred to Harry that whatever fondness Snape had had for Draco might have gone after his Sorting; Snape had never made it a secret that he hated Gryffindors.
"Granger provoked them," Draco said finally. He glanced at Hydrus, drew himself up, and then added, "So we put her back in her place." Hermione, who'd stopped crying, made an outraged noise.
"All I said," she cried, "was-"
"No one asked you, mudblood," Blaise said coldly, and Hermione fell silent with a tearless sob. Harry frowned at Blaise, who, very resolutely, did not meet his eye.
"Mr Zabini, that is not an acceptable word to use at school and if I hear it from you again, I will be forced to deduct points." Snape then turned back to Draco. "So she provoked you, and you handled it as a group?" Snape asked, fixing Draco with a look that made him wilt. He nodded, though. Harry thought Snape looked disappointed for a moment, but his usual scowl was back a moment later. "Very well. Miss-"
"Granger, sir," Hermione said shakily.
"Granger." Snape's lip curled. "Five points from Gryffindor for provoking the other students-" Ron and Seamus made furious noises, and Harry glared at Snape, who glared right back. Harry didn't think his heart was in it, though, which was odd. "-and I will take more if it happens again." He flicked his wand at the dungeon door, which opened and he barked, "In!"
Snape, like every teacher except Moony, started off with the class list. He hesitated when he got to Harry's name, and for a moment, Harry thought he was about to say something, but in the end, he just drawled, "Harry Potter." Harry couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just been spared something very unpleasant.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," Snape said, when everyone had been called. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
Harry smiled, before he could stop himself.
"Did I say something funny, Potter?" Snape asked quietly. Harry quickly wiped the smile off his face.
"No," Harry said quickly.
"Tell me, what-" Again, Snape hesitated. "-is the difference between monkshood-" Harry's heart sank. "-and wolfsbane?" Hermione's hand shot into the air, and the majority of Slytherin sniggered; a few just looked confused.
Harry opened his mouth to say, 'I don't know', when he realised that he did. "There isn't one," he said. Merlin knew he'd heard Moony, Tonks and Padfoot talk about that potion and its ingredients enough times.
"Well, it seems you're not entirely useless," Snape said, making the Slytherins laugh appreciatively. Harry didn't really care. Compared to the way Snape had treated him when they first met three years ago, Snape was being downright friendly. Hermione, next to Harry, put her hand down, looking a bit disappointed that she hadn't been allowed to answer.
Given the disastrous start to the class, out in the dungeon corridor, Harry really shouldn't have been surprised that the end of class was just as bad; Snape paired them up and had them prepare a cure for boils and then swooped around the classroom, criticising everyone's potions. Hermione and Harry seemed to be the only two Gryffindors that weren't terrified; Hermione wanted to prove herself, no doubt, and Harry had made far more complicated potions – his Form-Revealer, for one - and had experience with Snape – though, admittedly not in a teaching environment. Their partners though, Dean and Ron, were criticised for not helping enough, and told to pay attention because Snape would pair them together next lesson.
Neville managed to melt Seamus' cauldron, and cover himself in painful looking boils; Seamus took him to the hospital wing, and Snape told Harry and Ron off for not keeping a closer eye on him.
"He's the teacher," Ron complained to Harry, as they shifted their stools away from the puddle of cauldron that Neville had left behind. "Shouldn't he be the one keeping an eye on people?"
"Probably," Harry sighed, stirring their cauldron. Ron passed him the next ingredient, and then ducked his head; Snape was heading back their way.
"Mr Malfoy, stay behind," Severus said, as everyone filed out, or, rather, as the Slytherins filed out, and the Gryffindors fled.
"I'll see you at lunch," Draco muttered to Hydrus, who gave Severus an appraising look and left with Vincent and Gregory. "Sir?"
"Not here," Severus said. He led Draco out of the classroom and into a part of the castle that Draco was much more familiar with; his office. "Sit." Draco dropped his school bag on the office floor, and lowered himself into the chair Severus was pointing at. Severus himself didn't sit; he remained standing.
"How are you?" Severus asked, surprising Draco.
"I haven't had the start to Hogwarts that I'd hoped for, but I've adjusted."
"So I'd noticed," Severus said coolly. "I was relieved to see, that, despite your current problems, you're still managing to keep muggleborns in their place." There was so much sarcasm and condemnation in his voice that Draco shrank back into his chair. "I'd expect that supremacy nonsense from Hydrus, or the others, but from you, Draco... I confess, it's disappointing." Draco scratched the scar on his palm, ashamed – he was disappointed in himself too, and to hear it from Severus was even worse – but frustration bubbled up too, and in the end, he couldn't hold it back.
"You know what else is disappointing?" he said. "This!" He tugged on his tie. "This isn't how it's supposed to be! I'm supposed to be in Slytherin with everyone else, but I'm stuck in stupid Gryffindor!" Draco wiped his cheeks, angry. "It's not fair!"
"Life isn't fair," Severus said quietly. Draco just sniffed.
"I always knew I was different," Draco said, letting out words that had been bouncing around his head since the Sorting. "but I didn't know that- that that was wrong! I just thought I thought differently, that I thought older or something; I think like you, and you were a Slytherin, and so was Mother! I was raised to be a Slytherin, and somehow, I've managed to- to- to undo it."
"You mustn't blame yourself," Severus said. "These things-"
"I don't blame myself," Draco said. "I just... don't understand. I want to write to Mother and Father and tell them I'm sorry, but I don't know what there is to say, because what- I- there-"
"Draco, calm yourself," Severus said firmly. Draco took a few deep breaths, and wiped his face again for good measure. "Your parents will understand - I spoke with them both last night." Draco's eyes widened and he wanted to ask a thousand questions, but held his tongue instead. "Your mother, in particular, is eager to see you, or, at the very least, hear from you."
Relief, even if it was wary - who knew what Mother would say when she got past the worry and shock? - seeped into Draco.
"I'll write to her," he said tentatively. "Tonight."
"See that you do," Severus said, with a sharp nod. "And, despite the fact that you did not make it into my House-" Draco flinched, but Severus' tone was mild, and free of its earlier bite. "-my office is always open to you." Severus put a hand on Draco's shoulder for a brief moment, and then stepped back. "I suggest you go to lunch," he said, "before those buffoons you call classmates eat it all."
"I don't sit with the Gryffindors," Draco said. Severus didn't say anything. Confused, Draco stood and hovered awkwardly by the door. "Thanks," Draco mumbled. "Sorry for-"
"There is no need to apologise." Draco left, heading upstairs to the Entrance Hall. Just before he stepped into the Great Hall, for lunch, he pulled off his tie and tucked it into his pocket.
As much as he was enjoying school, Harry was glad when the weekend arrived. He spent most of Friday afternoon doing his homework with Hermione and Ron, and went and saw Moony after dinner. The pair of them mirror-called Padfoot and Kreacher, who were eager to hear stories about the first week; Harry told them about his classes and teachers, and his friends, and Moony had a whole heap of funny stories to share, mainly about Peeves (who wouldn't leave him alone), and the Weasley twins (who were almost just as persistent).
"They don't do anything, though" Moony said. "They're not pranking, and they're not talking... they just sort of watch me, and seem completely content with that... It's- I offered them tea yesterday, and they panicked and ran off. I've got no idea what to make of the whole thing."
On Saturday, Harry left his friends to their own devices and went to the library to work on his Transfiguration. He re-read the chapter they were working from, and his notes, and then pulled out the match to practice with. He managed to make his match silver in the first five minutes, but it took him another fifteen to make it thin and pointy.
I'll try again, he decided.
"Finite," he said, but the needle remained. Harry frowned and leafed through his book until he found 'Reparifarge', but that was only to undo incorrectly done transfigurations.
He closed his book and went to search the library for something that could help him. Trying to reverse the transfiguration took Harry the rest of the day. By the time he got to dinner, he was tired and hungry, and his hand ached from all of the wand movements he'd tried before he got the right one – it had to be the exact reverse of the one he'd done initially – but he was also the very proud owner of a seemingly normal match, and, as he loaded his plate with mashed potatoes, he couldn't quite wipe the grin off his face.
"What'd you get up to today?" he asked the table, but was mostly focused on Hermione and Ron.
"We played chess," Hermione offered; Ron had looked up with his mouth full. "Ron won," she added, looking a bit put out. "All seven times."
"I reckon even you'd have won," Ron told Harry, who grinned. Hermione huffed and picked up her fork , but she wasn't offended; knowing her, she was disappointed because she'd finally found something she wasn't the best at. Harry didn't think that was a bad thing.
"And Draco?" Harry asked, glancing over his shoulder at the Slytherin table, where the boy in question sat silently, picking at his dinner. "Did he show his face today?"
"Not 'til now," Ron said, his face darkening a bit. Harry's heart sank. He wasn't sure where he sat with Draco at the moment, but he suspected he'd be a lot more forgiving than Ron, who hadn't been at all impressed by the blood traitor comment in Defence. And, judging by the way that Hermione's eyebrows drew together, she didn't care much for him at the moment either.
Harry sighed and stabbed a roast carrot.
The next week at Hogwarts was about as uneventful as life at Hogwarts could be. Seamus punched Morton – the boy whose father had attacked Moony – outside Charms on Monday afternoon for insulting his muggle father, and on Tuesday morning, Moony gave Blaise detention for picking on Hermione; this time, she didn't cry, just ignored him, and Harry was proud of her for that. Harry, on the other hand, hit Blaise with the knockback jinx they were practicing, giving Moony no choice but to give him detention too.
Moony seemed disappointed, but Harry figured it was an opportunity to hit two Bludgers with one bat; he'd defended Hermione, and he'd also earned himself several hours with Blaise. His hopes for having a civil chat with him diminished but didn't disappear, when Blaise shoved him into the doorframe on the way out of the classroom.
Tuesday afternoon was Potions again, but thankfully only a theory lesson. Snape taught them about the properties of a few ingredients and the ways that they interacted together, and, once Harry'd taken all of the Gryffindor-directed nastiness out of his notes, they were actually very informative.
Wednesday passed without consequence; they had their first Herbology lesson with Professor Sprout, and Neville, of all people, proved himself a very capable student. Once, he even beat Hermione in answering a question. Harry's plant experience was limited to weeding and watering – the things he'd done for the Dursleys – so he partnered with Ron, figuring that at least they could have no idea together.
Draco continued to ignore the Gryffindors, and, when they weren't in Defence or Potions (the Slytherin-Gryffindor classes) he sat with Zacharias Smith from Hufflepuff, or Sophie Flint from Ravenclaw. Neither seemed to like him very much, and he didn't seem to like them either, but he sat there nonetheless.
Thursdays, Harry thought, were likely to become his favourite day; they got to sleep in – if they wanted to - then had Transfiguration with McGonagall, lunch, then Defence with Moony, and, until Christmas, they now had flying lessons in the afternoons (though that was, regrettably, with the Slytherins).
Hermione and Neville talked about flying all through breakfast, and Harry, after trying to tell her that you couldn't learn to fly from a book, gave up, left them to it, and relocated with Ron to where the twins were sitting, discussing a prank they were going to pull on Snape over dinner; the plan was, Harry managed to gather, to charm his peas to make his skin change colour, each time he ate one.
"He'll kill you if he finds out," Ron said, impressed.
"He'll know," Fred said, shrugging, "but what's the worst that could happen. McGonagall's our Head, so she'll hand out the punishment, and Snape hates us already, so we've got nothing to lose."
Harry wondered, for just a moment, if Snape ever saw his dad and Padfoot in the twins.
"Greasy git," George added. Harry winced, deciding that was a distinct possibility. "So, young Harry," George asked, turning around, "we think we've covered enough about Moony for the time being-"
"-and that it's time to move on, to, say-"
"Wormtail," George said hopefully. Harry – who'd not been expecting to hear that name - choked on his mouthful of yoghurt, and Ron thumped him on the back. As always, there was the anger that Harry associated with the traitor, but even more prominent was the guilt and pity; Harry still remembered Wormtail's shrill, babbling confession at Padfoot's trial, and knew all too well that Wormtail was doomed to spend the rest of his life in the cold company of his deepest fears.
"He's a git," Harry said, after he'd had juice to clear his throat. "He's in Azkaban, and staying there." It was clear that Fred and George were dying to ask more, but Harry saw Ron shake his head and they went back to their breakfasts.
Harry forgot all about Wormtail though, when he got into Transfiguration. They were working on their matches again, and Harry managed his as quickly as Hermione. Hermione went to collect more from Professor McGonagall's desk so that she could keep practicing, but Harry kept his single needle, and set about trying to change it back again. It only took him twenty minutes, and only ten the time after that.
By the end of the double lesson, Harry could reverse his transfiguration just as quickly as he could do it in the right direction. At the end of the lesson, everyone except Harry (who'd turned his back to a match), Neville (who had a toothpick) and Wayne Hopkins from Hufflepuff, had a needle on their desk. Hermione had eleven, and earned a point for Gryffindor for each one.
"Monday's single lesson will also be dedicated to this," McGonagall said as they loaded their books back into their bags. "I expect everyone to have managed by the end of that lesson, so if you still have a match today, I suggest you practice." Her beady gaze lingered on Harry, Neville and Wayne. "Do not forget."
"I'll remember to practice," Neville said, as they made their way to lunch. "Look what Gran sent me." He pulled a glass ball out of his pocket and lifted it up to show Harry. "It's a Rememberall; it'll fill with smoke when I've forgotten something."
"How'll you know what you've forgotten?" Ron asked curiously.
"I won't," Neville said. "Gran said she'd get me the proper one-"
"Proper one?" Harry asked, looking at the Rememberall; it looked pretty proper to him.
"You can put memories in them," Neville said, "And it shows you what one's important, instead of just smoking. But they're really expensive," he added. "Gran said I have to prove I won't lose this one before she'll let me have a real one."
Harry glanced at Ron, fighting a grin; it had only been a week, and he'd already seen first-hand how easily Neville lost things. Neville's things kept turning up in strange places all around the dormitory and common room, and it was common to see Neville digging through his trunk in the early hours of the morning, or sitting on his bed, deep in thought as he tried to remember where he'd last seen something. Trevor didn't help matters, because the toad kept misplacing himself; Lavender had returned him to Neville after finding him in the girl's bathroom on the weekend.
"Where're we sitting?" Ron asked, glancing around the table.
"There," Harry said; he'd spied a rather unusual addition at the very end of the bench. Ron frowned, but followed him over with Hermione. Neville bade them goodbye to sit with some of his Hufflepuff friends.
"Did I scare him?" Draco asked, as they approached.
"Only as much as we scare you when you sit over there," Ron said, jerking his head at the Slytherin table. He sat down opposite Harry, who'd taken the seat beside Draco.
"You don't scare me," Draco scoffed, "I just-" He hesitated. "-don't like you very much."
"There's your answer," Hermione said, taking the seat next to Ron. She poured the four of them drinks, and wasn't the only one that seemed startled when Draco thanked her for it. Harry saw her expression soften a tiny bit and then she asked rather briskly, "If you don't like us, why are you sitting here?"
"They're not out of lessons yet," Draco said. He picked up a quarter of a sandwich and took a bite. "I had to wait somewhere, didn't I?" Ron grunted. "Keen for flying lessons today, Potter?"
"I s'pose," Harry said, helping himself to a generous serve of cheesy macaroni. "You?" Draco shrugged.
"Fred and George say the school brooms are rubbish," Ron said.
"How would they know?" Draco asked, looking confused. "Your family can't afford quality brooms, so they wouldn't know the difference."
"Obviously there's a difference, or they wouldn't have said anything," Ron said, red-eared.
"I suppose," Draco drawled. "If the Weasleys thinks they're bad, they must be. I-" Harry kicked him – probably harder than was necessary – and Draco cut off with a yelp. "What, Potter?" he asked crossly.
"My leg twitched," Harry said, unrepentant. "Sorry." Ron sniggered, and Hermione looked amused.
"Lie," Draco muttered.
"Lie?" Hermione asked. Oddly, Draco coloured at that.
"It's nothing," he said. Hermione, never content not to know something, folded her arms, and frowned at Draco, who didn't seem to care at all.
"What do you think of classes so far?" Harry asked, not sure whether he was trying to spare Draco from Hermione, or spare Hermione from the retaliation that Draco would no doubt come up with. "I haven't really had a chance to ask."
"No," Draco said quietly. He frowned and took another sandwich. "No, I suppose not. They're... good, I suppose. I like History of Magic-" Ron made a revolted noise, and Harry wholeheartedly agreed. "-and Charms is boring at the moment, but Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions and Transfiguration are interesting. I managed my needle today." He looked quite pleased with himself, so Harry smiled, and was surprised when he earned a smile back. "I like McGonagall. She's tough, and she's terrifying, but at least she's fair."
"Terrifying is right," Fred – or the twin that Harry thought was Fred - said, sitting down beside them. "Some friends of ours-"
"-And yours, Harry-" George winked.
"-were telling us the other day about the time she made them clean the entire Prefect's bathroom-"
"-without magic."
"How do you know about the squid?" Harry asked; last he'd heard, the twins had been content to stare at Moony in awed silence, instead of asking him questions. "And friends? Were there- I mean- Friends? As in, more than one? Who-"
"Friends is the plural of friend, Potter," Draco said, "so yes, I daresay there was more than one." Hermione laughed before she could stop herself. "Why in Merlin's name did these friends of yours have to clean the bathroom? I'm lost."
"They lost me at squid," Harry heard Ron say to Hermione, who nodded. At the same time, the twins seemed to realise Draco was with them.
"Oh, Malfoy," Fred said. "Didn't see you there."
"Well," George amended, "we did see you-"
"-but we didn't recognise you-"
"-with your tie." Draco glanced at the offending item and flushed.
"Sorry," Ron said, interrupting, "but squid?" Draco shot him a grateful look that Ron missed. "What about-"
"Squid," George agreed, beaming. "Legacies, they were, even as ickle firsties." He sighed, content, and he and Fred gave the staff table – where Moony was sitting, next to Snape – an admiring look.
"You've got a lot to live up to," Fred told the four of them. Harry arched an eyebrow, Ron continued to look blank, Draco just seemed confused, and Hermione looked interested by the prospect of living up to something, but Harry rather thought that interest would fade if she knew she'd have to break rules.
"How did you talk to more than one of them?" Harry persisted, directing his attention back to the twins; it was impossible, because while Moony was here, Padfoot was back home in London, Peter was in Azkaban, and James was dead.
"Ah, ah," Fred said, waggling a finger. "that's sensitive information, I'm afraid."
"Can't go spilling all our secrets," George added.
"Which of the others did you talk to?"
"All of them," Fred said. Harry shook his head, and let the matter drop. If the twins weren't just joking around, he was dying to know how it was possible to talk to all of the Marauders. If there was a way to do so, Harry was sure Padfoot or Moony would have mentioned it.
Can't hurt to ask them about it, though, Harry thought. He glanced up, just missing the punchline of whatever joke George had told the other three. Hermione looked scandalized, but rather pleased at the same time, and Ron and Draco were laughing.
"What?" Harry asked.
"The squid," Ron chuckled. "Who'd you say did it?"
"I didn't," George said, winking at Harry. "Names don't matter-"
"They did to you," Harry said, amused. Fred shushed him and gave Draco a pointed look.
"But, our nameless heroes aren't the only ones that won't tolerate blood-traitor and m-word nonsense." Draco shrank into his seat, looking far more guilty than Harry had expected him too. Draco's eyes flicked over to the Slytherin table, and he twitched. Harry didn't blame him; the entirety of first year Slytherin, and a few students from the older years were staring in his direction.
"How long have they been here?" he asked, looking horrified.
"They came in at the same time as we did," George said.
"Handy, that; there was some congestion at the doors, and we had a chance to put a handful of frog spawn in your brother's schoolbag."
Draco yanked his tie off and stuffed it into his bag while Weasley One was still confessing to the frog spawn. The others were laughing – even Granger, who Draco'd noticed didn't usually laugh about pranks – and Draco was tempted to laugh too; had it happened a month ago, he probably would have. But Hydrus had been... well, not nice but certainly accepting... of Draco anyway... mostly.
He's trying, Draco thought with a sigh. Hydrus' support meant that Draco had to sacrifice a lot of his own values, but he hadn't had any sort of brotherly support in years, so Draco was willing to go along with it; Hydrus gave him somewhere to be, other than with the Gryffindors, if nothing else.
"Bye," he said hastily, swung his bag over his shoulder and hurried over to the Slytherin table. "Hi," he said, sitting down in the empty seat next to Morton.
"What were you doing?" Hydrus asked, looking horrified.
"Waiting," Draco said in a small voice. "You were late out of lessons, so I-"
"Sat with the Gryffindors," Pansy sneered. Draco nodded. "We've been here for ages, though; what took you so long?" Draco knew they had; Vincent and Gregory already had two dirty plates in front of them, and everyone else appeared to be onto seconds. And, Slytherins tended to be slow eaters, because they'd been raised to have such proper table skills.
"I was distracted." And he had been; he hadn't even seen the others come in.
"By what?" Hydrus asked, looking flummoxed. "Gryffindors? They're about as dull as they come."
"They're not that bad," Draco muttered, and then realised what he'd said. "They were telling a funny story, about a squid in the Prefect's bathroom-"
"Ew," Daphne said.
"It was a prank," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "Someone called a girl a-"
"A what?" Morton asked.
Mudblood. "Nothing," Draco said, realising almost too late that this crowd wouldn't see the funny side at all, and would probably be quite offended on the pranks' victim's behalf. "Nevermind. It wasn't that funny." He didn't talk or laugh again all through lunch, just nodded and smirked in the right places, picked at his lunch, and stayed silent whenever one of the others insulted his House or his Housemates, and tried not to spend too much time looking over at Potter, Granger and the Weasleys, who were still talking and laughing over on the Gryffindor table.