A/N: Hope everyone is having a good weekend. Here's a chapter to make said weekend even better.

Thank you to the two reviewers on the last chapter, BrightWatcher and DS2010! Thank you also to those who favourited and subscribed.

Chapter Three: The Potter-Malfoy Rivalry

By the next morning the whole of Hogwarts knew that something nasty had transpired outside the Potions classroom. Most people did not know the exact details of what happened — Ron told anyone who would listen that he had actually managed to land a couple of punches on Malfoy, while Padma Patil confided to the first-year Ravenclaws that her sister had spun a tale of an intense shouting match which lasted much longer than it actually did, and the Slytherins claimed (not inaccurately) that Weasley had instigated the fight — but everyone knew that Malfoy and Weasley hated each other.

Harry, still discomfited about his realisation that Draco had meant every word during that confrontation, attempted to get Draco alone to talk — but the Slytherin seemed to be actively avoiding him, and didn't even reply the notes Harry furtively sent via owl post each morning. He didn't make any effort to reach out to Harry and even failed to pick on him — he appeared to simply ignore Harry altogether, which was not what they had discussed they would do. Ron was happy, as this meant that he didn't have to put up with Draco's insults, and rather boastfully declared that Malfoy was staying away because Ron's put-downs had struck a chord. Hermione Granger snorted when she heard this, but Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown were suitably impressed. Professor Snape, on the other hand, appeared to shift a small percentage of his apparent ire for Harry to Ron, likely in revenge for what the redhead had said about his godson's family.

"He's a foul, slimy git!" Ron moaned on Tuesday morning after Snape had issued him a detention in the dungeons upon catching him out of class during a lesson period yesterday. "I was trying to find the loo and got lost! It's a big castle!"

"I think he's getting revenge for what you said to Malfoy," Seamus volunteered. "Snape really seems to favour him, doesn't he?"

"Oh, you've noticed," Ron grumbled.

"Just do your detention properly, and maybe Snape'll consider you sufficiently punished," Harry suggested.

Ron sighed mournfully.

Ron's mood deteriorated even further when he and Harry made their way down to the common room and saw the noticeboard.

"Flying lessons with Slytherin?" Ron cried in horror. Similar exclamations were heard from the other first-years around them.

"Just what I've always wanted," Harry said sarcastically. "Let's go, Ron, breakfast isn't going to wait for us."

"Potter, James!"

Lucius Malfoy watched with a kind of alert indifference as the confident boy with untidy black hair strode forward to take his place on the stool. Professor McGonagall dropped the Sorting Hat over James Potter's head, and almost instantly the Hat's slit of a mouth opened to shout, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Potter grinned and went to sit at the Gryffindor table next to Sirius Black, who had made history several names ago as the only Black not to Sort into Slytherin. Potter, however, had disrupted no such family tradition — more than half of all the Potters who ever studied at Hogwarts had Sorted into Gryffindor, and all the rest had been in Hufflepuff. Lucius himself was only the latest in a long line of Slytherin Malfoys.

Lucius had not seen James Potter since the business partnership between Abraxas Malfoy and Fleamont Potter ended badly nearly a decade ago. James would not remember Lucius, as he'd been only two years old at the time — but Lucius vaguely recalled a little boy who trotted around like a king even as a toddler and had a propensity to throw tantrums when he didn't get his way. Lucius wondered how much Potter had matured in nine years.

Judging by the way James snorted dismissively as 'Snape, Severus' was Sorted into Slytherin, Lucius assumed not much. He immediately scooted to the side to make way for the lanky, timid boy who shuffled quickly to the Slytherin table, making sure to smile at Severus.

Draco angrily slammed his books onto his desk in the Transfiguration classroom, causing Daphne Greengrass, a fair-haired Slytherin girl sitting two rows behind him, to stare.

"What's wrong with you, Malfoy?" she asked. "You've been moody since Friday. Did Weasley really get to you that bad?"

"No," Draco denied huffily, as Crabbe and Goyle claimed the desks on either side of him.

"Did you see the noticeboard this morning?" asked Blaise Zabini as he dropped into the desk directly in front of Draco.

"Nah," replied Theodore Nott from beside Daphne. "Why?"

"Flying lessons start on Wednesday," Zabini answered. He met Draco's grey-blue eyes. "Slytherins and Gryffindors are learning together."

Draco held back a groan, and made himself say, "All the better to show those stupid lions who their betters are."

Crabbe and Goyle nodded mindlessly in unison, but Daphne Greengrass had a small frown on her face. Zabini raised an aristocratic eyebrow, but said nothing. Draco was glad that McGonagall walked in at that moment, because it meant he had an excuse to ignore all of them.

"Well, well, if it isn't old Snivellus," said the brazen voice of James Potter. Severus attempted to back away, but he was unfortunate in that there was not much space before he hit a bookshelf. "What d'you have there, Snivellus?"

Beside Potter, Sirius Black laughed along with his new best friend at the demeaning nickname. Severus tried to sidestep them while they were distracted, but Black caught his robes as he tried to slip by them.

"Where are you going?" he inquired pleasantly. "We're not done with you yet."

"Let me go," said Severus in a low voice.

"Oh, come on, be a sport," said Potter. "We just want to see what you're holding so close to your chest." Before Severus could react, he plucked the library book out of his hand. "Dark Spells for the Curious?" Potter narrowed his eyes in distaste. "What are you doing with a book like this, Snivellus?"

"Planning to join Voldemort when you've graduated, are you?" Black asked in disgust; Severus inhaled sharply in objection to Black's use of the name.

"You're really dumb enough to call him that?"

Black scoffed. "Why not? I'm not a coward like you. Why the heck d'you want to join him anyway? Is your father a Death Eater? Is that why you want to join?"

"It's none of your business," Severus snapped at them.

"Oh, I think it is." Potter exchanged a glance with Sirius. His tone was light as he said, "You see, as your fellow students, we feel we have a responsibility to turn you from your Dark path and help you save your soul."

"It would be very irresponsible of us to allow you to study this book," Black agreed.

Severus finally managed to pry his robes free from Black's grip, and he sneered at the two Gryffindors. "Are you going to call a teacher?" he asked sarcastically.

"No need for a teacher," said Potter. "I think we'll just take away this book…"

"And as for your punishment," added Black, reaching for his wand, "a Stinging Hex will remind you not to do stuff like this anymore."

Severus's eyes widened, and he tried to get away, but he felt the pain of Black's hex in his unprotected back before he could escape, and then he heard them laughing to each other.

"What is going on here?" The Slytherin Prefect who had made space for him at the Welcome Feast stepped out from behind a bookshelf. Potter and Black immediately straightened, looking perfectly innocent.

"Nothing, Malfoy," said Potter.

Lucius obviously didn't believe them, looking from a Severus who was blinking back tears and a Black whose wand was still out. The prefect's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Let me remind you," he said icily, "that bullying is not acceptable whether it happens in the library or in the grounds."

"Oh, come on, Malfoy — that argument on the Quidditch pitch last week was hardly 'bullying'," scoffed Black.

"And yet, both that incident and today's involved Snape," Lucius noted archly. "Five points from Gryffindor."

Potter glared at him and opened his mouth to protest.

"Shall I make it ten points?"

Potter snapped his mouth shut and gave Lucius an ugly look. "Come on, Sirius." The two Gryffindors whirled and stalked out of the library.

"Thank you, Malfoy," Severus said quietly. Lucius turned to the thin, black-haired boy.

"Call me Lucius," he invited. "If those two idiots ever bother you again, let me know."

"They took my book with them."

"They did?" Lucius faced the aisle the two bullies had vanished from. "What was the book?"

Severus told him. Lucius raised an eyebrow and studied at him carefully.

"Interested in the Dark Arts, are you?"

Severus stiffened slightly. "What's it to you?"

"I find them quite fascinating myself," Lucius confessed with a sly smile. "I could recommend some better books if you'd like."

Severus's black eyes gleamed. "Yes, please."

Draco spotted the tiny glass ball lying in the grass before anybody else. Madam Hooch had just left for the Hospital Wing with Longbottom — Draco was beginning to wonder if the Gryffindor was going to end up under Madam Pomfrey's care every week — after sternly warning everyone not to touch their brooms. Actually, her exact words were: "If I see a single broom in the air the one riding it will be out of Hogwarts before they can say 'Quidditch'" — which, really, meant that what he did next was an absolutely brainless move.

Later, Draco would shudder to admit that he had had a moment of sheer insanity when he hopped on his practice broomstick and proposed leaving Longbottom's Remembrall in a tree for him to find. It was bold, reckless, and completely moronic — it was a pure Gryffindor move. He had no idea what he was thinking when he urged the broom into the air, clutching the Remembrall in one hand — his only excuse was that he felt he needed to blow off some steam after a week of tension.

"Dr—Malfoy, give it here!" Harry yelled from the ground.

"Come and get it, Potter!" Draco shouted back. Had his mind completely deserted him?

Harry seemed to think so; he mounted his broom, ignoring Granger's scandalised objections, and rose into the air with more grace than Draco thought he would have on a Cleansweep 2. It wasn't Harry's first time on a broomstick — Lucius had occasionally let them both try flying on his broomstick at Malfoy Manor — but even so, his natural skill was undeniable.

"What the hell are you playing at, Draco?" Harry hissed at him when they were both too high for anyone on the ground to hear them.

Draco bit his lip and didn't answer, tossing the Remembrall up and down in his palm.

"Look, if this is about what Ron said…"

"I don't care what the Weasel said, Harry," Draco ground out — but his tone was far from convincing.

"What are you doing with Neville's Remembrall, then?" Harry demanded. "He never did anything to you. Why aren't you replying my notes?" His expression softened when he saw how tense Draco was — something was obviously bothering him. "Look, Draco, why don't we arrange a time to talk — maybe we can use half the lunch break or sneak out after hours again…"

"They're getting suspicious," Draco noted, observing the students below who were clearly wondering why there wasn't more yelling. "Shout at me, Harry."

"I don't —"

"Harry!"

Harry took a deep breath and raised his voice to an angry pitch. "Give it here, Malfoy, or I'll knock you off your broom!"

"Catch," Draco said quietly.

"What?"

"Catch it if you can, then!" Draco repeated in a mocking tone for all to hear. He flung the Remembrall away as hard as he could; Harry immediately chased after it as Draco guided his broom to the ground.

The glass ball soared high into the air before arcing downwards, and Draco's heart stopped when he saw that Harry was about to smash himself into the castle wall in his effort to catch the stupid trinket. "Harry!" he cried, amid cries of alarm from the other students — which luckily covered his uncharacteristic concern for the boy he supposedly loathed.

Miraculously, Harry escaped unscathed. Draco watched in shock as his secret friend snatched the Remembrall from the air and pulled out of his suicidal dive inches before he crashed into the wall. Draco was too stunned and relieved to cheer with Harry's fellow Gryffindors (not that he would have even if he was in his right mind), but he was snapped out of his stupor abruptly by McGonagall's wrath.

"HARRY POTTER!" The Head of Gryffindor House was white and furious as she marched towards Harry. "Never — in all my years — could have broken your neck…"

Her lions all tried to explain that it wasn't Harry's fault, but McGonagall was having none of it. She shut them all up and ordered Harry to follow her.

As soon as they were gone, Ron rounded on Draco furiously. "This is all your fault, Malfoy!"

For once, Draco agreed with Weasley.

Severus's school life got considerably better after the library incident. Lucius took him under his wing and made sure Potter and Black didn't get away with bullying the vulnerable Slytherin. Of course, Lucius couldn't guard Severus all the time, and on the occasions when he wasn't around the Gryffindors took fiendish delight in tormenting Snape — but Severus knew it would be worse if he hadn't befriended the Slytherin prefect.

Lucius, on the other hand, found that he was quickly starting to dislike James Potter with a passion. The bratty toddler he remembered had grown into a spoiled and arrogant bully, and Lucius wondered with disgust why Fleamont and Euphemia Potter allowed their son to get away with his severe character flaws. If Lucius were to act the way Potter did, his father would give him a sound thrashing.

One evening in late winter after preventing yet another attack on the hapless Severus, Lucius ruthlessly deducted points and then coolly ordered James to follow him into an empty classroom.

"What d'you want, Malfoy?" James asked, sounding almost bored as he perched atop a desk, kicking his legs to and fro.

"What have you got against Snape?" Lucius wanted to know.

James shrugged. "He annoys me. And you're protecting him."

"And that's a good reason to bully him because…?"

James rolled his eyes. "It's a challenge. Since you're protecting him, it's more interesting to try to get to him. I like challenges. It's fun."

Lucius frowned. "But if I were to stop protecting him, you'd still bully him."

"'Bully' is such a strong word," objected James. "I'm only teasing. It's nothing personal."

"I beg to differ."

"Of course you do." James sighed. "You know, my dad told me about you."

Lucius' pale eyes narrowed. "What did he tell you?"

"That you're the son of his old business partner. He and Abraxas were pretty good friends, I heard — before your father decided to take the Dark Mark." James's eyes darkened. "And my dad said that even as a kid you were all about pureblood supremacy. He didn't like it in your father either."

"Oh, did your father tell you to stay away from me?" Lucius sneered.

"Nah." James flapped a hand. "I could've figured that out on my own. I don't want anything to do with you."

"The feeling is mutual," Lucius returned with a scowl. "Leave Snape alone and we won't have a problem."

"Okay," James said unexpectedly. "Can I go now?"

Lucius frowned. "You're not going to argue?"

"Nope. Leave Snivellus alone. I got it. What's to argue about?" He hopped off the desk. "See you around, Malfoy — or not."

James walked out the door, leaving a rather bewildered Lucius behind.

Draco was unsettled for the rest of the day after the flying lesson. Remembering that Madam Hooch had threatened any student caught flying without permission with expulsion, he guiltily wondered whether his stupid stunt had gotten Harry kicked out. When he didn't see Harry at dinner, he began to panic that Harry really had left Hogwarts. Weasley wouldn't tell him anything when he asked (in the guise of "Has Potter packed his bags yet? Surely he got sent home after that stunt.") and Draco started composing several different notes to send to Harry to apologise and inquire about his school-going status, all of which he burned because they weren't coming out right.

What's wrong with you? he angrily scolded himself. Harry is your best friend, and you got him kicked out of school. He won't be pretending to hate you now.

Exhaling heavily, Draco looked down at his most recent note. It read simply: I'm really sorry about the Remembrall. Don't know what got into me. You okay?

Figuring it was the best he was going to get, Draco climbed up to the Owlery after dinner and sent it off with Hedwig, whose presence in the Owlery gave Draco hope that Harry was also still around. He wasn't sure whether Dumbledore would announce a student's expulsion or not — probably not, since he didn't like seeing misfortune befall people — and this was the closest he was going to get to an answer until Harry replied his note. If he replied.

James, surprisingly, kept to his word and did not bother Severus for the rest of the year, and he kept Sirius off the Slytherin as well. First-year exams and a thorough and public dressing down from Lily Evans may have had something to do with that, but Lucius decided to take his blessings where he could get them.

However, it became clear that while James was leaving Severus alone for now (Lucius was under no illusions that this fragile truce would last), he was taking whatever opportunities he could get to snub Lucius. There weren't very many, given that they were a Gryffindor first-year and a fifth-year Slytherin prefect, but it was enough to make Lucius grit his teeth. This being Hogwarts, of course the whole school soon caught on to the fact that there seemed to be a quiet rivalry brewing between Lucius Malfoy and James Potter — both scions of well-known pureblood houses.

Things came to a head early in James's second year (Lucius's sixth year). Lucius caught James attempting to sneak into the Slytherin dungeons to play a prank, and he went ballistic, giving James the tongue-lashing of his life and assigning him a boatload of lines as detention.

"This is completely unacceptable behaviour, Potter!" Lucius fumed. "You are the heir to a respectable pureblood house, yet you act like a supercilious, arrogant princeling!"

"And you don't?" James retorted.

"I," hissed Lucius, "do not stoop to such childish actions. Thirty points from Gryffindor, Potter, and as punishment, you will write I will not be an insufferable idiot five hundred times."

James was outraged. "You can't give me lines!"

"I'm a prefect, Potter — I can most certainly give you lines if I feel your behaviour merits them. I want to see your lines by dinnertime on Wednesday; if you fail to carry out your punishment, I will report you to your Head of House and let her deal with you."

James scowled and grumbled and scoffed, but he knew he wasn't getting out of his punishment. He wasn't so immature as to admit he didn't deserve it. It wasn't the lines that rankled — he'd already been given plenty of those by teachers — it was the fact that it was Malfoy who was assigning them. James's pride bristled at the thought of submitting to a punishment from his rival.

Nevertheless, James Potter was nothing if not resourceful. Lucius had not said that he was the only one who could write the lines, after all — so the irrepressible James enlisted the help of Sirius, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew to complete his punishment. Thus, when Lucius received the five hundred lines, they were in four distinct handwritings, and included some extremely creative variations that were clearly meant to insult the Slytherin prefect.

And later in the year, James did somehow manage to get into the Slytherin sixth-year dorms, whereupon he left a rather nasty surprise for Lucius. Lucius knew exactly who had put the Dungbomb in his bed, of course, but he was never able to prove it.

At breakfast the next morning, Draco scanned the Gryffindor table until he caught sight of a familiar mop of black hair. He exhaled in relief, and the knot in his stomach loosened. Harry was still here. Draco hadn't ruined his future.

Harry seemed to feel Draco's eyes on him, because he turned his head towards the Slytherin table. Draco immediately dropped his gaze, too ashamed to face his friend. He'd been an utter prat yesterday. He could feel Harry willing him to look up, but he resolutely refused — he didn't want to see the anger in the other boy's eyes.

When the owls flew in with the mail, Artemis, Draco's silver eagle owl, landed in front of him with a small note in his beak.

Wasn't expelled. What the hell were you thinking?! NEED TO TALK. — Z

Draco sighed, finally lifting his head to see Harry watching him from the Gryffindor table. He gave a tiny nod, and Harry's expression brightened. The brunet reluctantly turned his face away when Weasley tapped him on the arm, and Draco quickly dropped his eyes back to the note — it would never do for someone to catch him looking at the Gryffindor table without a sneer or a smirk.

"Who's Z?"

Draco startled — Crabbe had noticed the note he reflexively crushed in his hand.

"No one." He scowled.

Fortunately for him, Crabbe was lacking in the brains department, so he simply shrugged and went back to gobbling cereal. Draco was just thankful he didn't normally sit next to Pansy Parkinson or Blaise Zabini, who were much quicker on the uptake and would press him for an answer. Draco doubted the name 'Zeus' — the private nickname he'd come up with for Harry due to his lightning-shaped scar — would sit too well with them.

Speak of the devil…Zabini had just plopped himself down in the empty seat opposite Draco, obscuring the latter's view of the Gryffindor table. Draco was rather pleased to see him, actually — Blaise was intelligent, and one of the few Slytherin first-years who didn't automatically think Muggleborns were scum (contrary to popular belief, this was not a common view in the Slytherin common room — there were even several Muggleborn Slytherins at Hogwarts — though Draco admitted that the majority of his year adhered to it, probably because their parents were former Death Eaters).

"Looks like Potter wasn't expelled," Zabini noted.

"Unfortunately," responded Draco.

"What is it with you and him, anyway?" Zabini questioned curiously. "Why do you hate him so much?"

Draco shrugged and twisted his lip into a sneer. "He's an annoying saint who skates by on his fame."

Zabini raised an eyebrow. "So you're jealous?"

"I didn't say that!"

Zabini smirked. "You didn't have to."

Draco scowled at him. "Whatever. Potter's a Gryffindor — you know what that lot are like. Strutting about like they own the place, never thinking, always breaking the rules…"

"Don't tell me you're buying into that story," Zabini scoffed. "Honestly, is this entire House filled with idiots?"

Momentarily thrown, Draco stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"Every Slytherin from the seventh-years down to the first-years seems to believe that nonsense that all Gryffindors are stupid prats. I don't think that's true, you know."

Draco blinked. "You don't?"

"No, I don't. I mean, obviously every single Gryffindor is just as biased when it comes to Slytherins…" Zabini rolled his eyes in disdain. "…so none of us is ever going to be friends with any of them — but personally, I don't think they're all that bad." He grinned wryly. "Wouldn't even mind making friends with a few, if they weren't so blind about Slytherins being devil spawn."

Draco's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't known Blaise was such a moderate. Maybe he could actually be friends with this boy — since he and Harry had to pretend to be enemies, it would be nice to have a friend in his own House.

"Better not let Parkinson hear you say that," he said casually.

Zabini snorted. "You think I'm that stupid? I know who's likely to curse me and who's not."

"I'm surprised you're telling me all this. After all, I am a Malfoy." Draco smirked.

"Well, you seemed a bit more intelligent than most of the other first-years." Zabini shrugged. "I mean, I don't deny you're a right git —" Draco snorted. "— but I figured you weren't as bad as your dad about blood purity."

Draco felt himself automatically bristle at the implied slight to his father. "What makes you think so?" he demanded.

"Just a feeling." Zabini grinned cockily at him. "I'm pretty good at reading people, y'know? It's a talent."

Draco rolled his eyes as he grabbed his bag from under the table. "Whatever." Secretly, though, he was pleased about Zabini's attitude.

"Where're you going?"

"The library. I want to get some studying done before Charms. See you around, Zabini." With that, Draco strode out of the Great Hall.

Harry and Ron exited the Charms classroom rather later than the rest of their classmates, and so were the only Gryffindors to have the misfortune of bumping into the Slytherin first-years who were just arriving for their own Charms lesson. Draco jostled both of them rather roughly on his way into the room.

"Oi!" exclaimed Ron in indignation, while Harry glared at Draco.

"Oops," said Draco carelessly, a smirk playing about his lips that made it clear he'd done it on purpose. "Watch where you're going, Potter, Weasel," he snarked at them.

Ron scowled at him. "Why don't you watch where you're going, you —"

"Ron!" Harry had realised that the presence of Slytherins here meant that they were running quite late for Transfiguration. "We're late!"

Ron's eyes grew wide as he perceived that they were the only Gryffindors in the vicinity, and he forgot about Malfoy. "Bloody hell!" he exclaimed as he ran after Harry. "McGonagall's gonna kill us!"

Sure enough, when they stumbled wheezing into the Transfiguration classroom a few minutes later, everyone else was already seated and watching a demonstration of McGonagall turning her desk into a pig (at Dean Thomas's request, because he'd been so impressed when she did it the last time).

Ron had also enjoyed the demonstration on that first day, and he was more than happy to see it again. "That's always cool," he muttered in appreciation to Harry.

McGonagall heard. She looked at the two latecomers through her spectacles and pinned them with her disapproving gaze. "Thank you, Mr. Weasley. However, perhaps it would be more useful if I were to transfigure either yourself or Mr. Potter into a pocket watch? That way one of you might be on time."

Chastised, the pair quickly took their seats, ignoring Hermione Granger's disparaging shake of her head.

McGonagall turned the pig back into her desk and began speaking. Ron, eager to get back into his Head of House's good graces, made a show of paying attention. Harry, however, spared a glance for the scrap of parchment Malfoy had pressed into his hand when he collided with them earlier. The parchment was Harry's own — it bore the message Artemis had delivered to Draco this morning — but on the back of it Draco had scribbled a hasty reply.

Midnight in the trophy room. Don't be late.

A/N: As we get into more flashbacks about the past, you may have more and more questions. Feel free to ask me anything in a review or a PM - though, mind, that I won't answer if it would be a spoiler and/or revealed later in the story. However, if it's just a question about the background or something you want to clarify, I'd be happy to oblige.

See y'all next week!