Oh yes, thank you AKA talentless for reminding me, in this story, Draco may
or may not become evil, but he sees Harry as a friend, so doesn't need to
be suspicious or anything. I should have explained that. . .forgive me. And
about ending Voldemort's reign of terror, well Draco isn't upset about
that, but he doesn't know why either. I think it's because I read somewhere
*Daggy!* that Malfoys seek power and darkness rather than evil. I see Harry
as being very powerful and dark, but not evil, so the Malfoys are willing
to work with him. Hope that made it clear!
Again, many thinks to Diagonalist for forcing me to post it. You have to go and read all her stories, because she is fantastic. Love you xxx
Draco, Harry reflected, was so calm it was a little creepy. He seemed totally unfazed by everything that happened; although maybe things like talking hats were commonplace in the Wizarding world. It was all so big, vibrant, stunning; he didn't know whether to look at the trestle tables containing more people than he had even seen in his life, or at the ceiling, which was obviously keeping the heat in but looked like the night sky.
"Draco" he whispered, and a pair of grey eyes met his, silently allowing him to ask. "Draco, what's the hat for?"
"Oh, you put it on your head and it sorts you into your House. Do you know about the houses?"
Harry nodded, remembering what Hagrid had told him. But he couldn't see a difference between the houses from what he had seen at the station; the only nice person at all had been Draco. He wondered if Hagrid hadn't been exaggerating a little bit.
"Don't worry" said Draco reassuringly.
"Do you know what house you'll be put in?"
"Slytherin" said Draco proudly. "All my family have been, for centuries." Then his face hardened slightly. "You will be in Gryffindor, Harry. I'm sorry - I will have to victimise and persecute you. It's not. . .not right for people to be friends outside of different houses."
Harry looked at him, expression blank, hiding his deep disappointment.
"Alright" he said flatly. "Alright."
**********************************************
"Malfoy, Draco" read out the prim witch with dark hair pulled back into a severe bun. Draco nodded briefly to harry before languidly stepping up to the platform.
"Come on, Mister Malfoy, we don't have all day" snapped the witch - Professor McGonagall. Malfoy smirked insolently and placed the hat above his head. It barely touched the silvery blond hair before screaming "Slytherin!"
Harry's heart dropped a few metres, and he sagged slightly as other irrelevant names were read out and sorted. Glancing around, he could actually see differences between the houses. For one, they all had different coloured badges on their robes, but there were other differences. As a whole, the Hufflepuffs, in yellow and black, were podgy, round faced and anxious looking. A large proportion of Ravenclaws were bent over books at the table, seeming detached from what was going on. The Gryffindors were mainly glaring at the Slytherins, fingering their gold and red badges with pride, as though they were a higher race, and the Slytherins sneered back. Harry could understand what Draco meant.
He was jolted out of his thoughts by his name being called.
"Potter, Harry"
Little fires of hissing whispers lit up around the room, and Harry felt his face flush. He caught sight of Draco watching him guardedly, and that was the last thing he saw before the hat slipped over his eyes.
* Well well, another Potter. But oh my, you are not like your parents at all. More powerful, if I am not mistaken. . .hmm, and bitter with life. But you are good. I cannot see you falling to the dark. Definitely not a Hufflepuff. Nor a Ravenclaw - you are not so studious. So it is between Slytherin and Gryffindor, young Harry. *
^ Wherever I will fit in. ^ thought Harry. ^ I just want to be where I belong. ^
* Sensible, Mr Potter. Hmm. . .you are brave, no doubt, but by no means foolish. Loyal, but not naïve. It is a tricky choice, but I believe you will find your true friends in SLYTHERIN! *
Harry got to his feet and walked over to the Slytherin table, aware of loud clapping, and the eyes of the Hall on him. Draco pulled him down into a seat, snapping at Crabbe to budge up, and patted him on the back, grey eyes shining. He didn't notice Harry's flinch and soft gasp of pain.
"Well done Harry! Wow, I can't believe it! I'm so glad you are a Slytherin"
Harry smiled, feeling at home here.
"Me too."
But he didn't like the looks he was getting from some people. Several Gryffindors were staring at him, and muttering under their breath, scowling. The Hufflepuffs were ignorant, simply beaming into space, and the Ravenclaws looked curious. But it was the animosity burning in the eyes of one dark-haired teacher that worried Harry the most. The man looked like he wanted to rip Harry into little pieces and stamp on them. Harry tugged on Draco's sleeve.
"Draco, who's that teacher, with the long black hair?"
"Oh, that's professor Snape" said Draco absently. "He's our head of house. Responsible for all the Slytherins."
Eyeing Millicent Bulstrode, who had just been sorted into Slytherin, he missed Harry's groan and slump.
"I'm going to die" he whimpered, his previously high spirits suddenly dampened. "I'm bloody well going to die!"
*******************************************************
"Potter!"
Harry didn't hear the sharp voice. He was busy scribbling down the previous few lines of Professor Snape's speech.
*. . .And even put a stopper in death.*
"Potter!" roared Snape, making the small boy jump nearly out of his skin.
"Y-yes, sir?"
Severus regarded the obnoxious toad through narrowed eyes. Why the hell had he been sorted into Slytherin anyway? His parents were Gryffindors, as were their parents. Well, Potter Senior's parents, anyway. And the boy was part Mudblood. His lip curled in disdain, and he stalked forwards.
"What, may I ask, was so important that you were not listening to your professor?"
Harry edged back in his chair, hating how much this man reminded him of Vernon, in the dark smouldering eyes and acidic words.
(Freak, lazy, worthless)
"I'm sorry, sir. I was taking notes."
Snape snatched the parchment and ripped it in two, eyes glittering furiously.
"You will write notes this evening, after your detention with Filch at 7.00 sharp. And I shall expect them on my desk tomorrow morning at 5.00, am I clear?"
Harry nodded.
"Yes, sir" he whispered, casting his eyes to the desk. He had wanted this lesson to go well, and he was already in trouble.
(waste of space. . .beat some sense into you. . .suffocate your abnormality)
In the seat next to him, Draco shook his head.
"He really doesn't like you, Harry. That's weird, he's normally really nice to Slytherins, he favours them because they. . ."
Snape had stalked over again, and this time he looked livid.
"Another detention, Potter. I do not expect this sort of impertinence in my lessons."
Draco spoke up.
"It was me talking, Professor. I'm sorry."
Snape snorted.
"Leading your friends astray, Potter? The detention stands"
He swept off, ignoring the whispers of the class and the stares that Harry was getting. Unsure of what to do with his trembling hands, Harry clenched them together hard under the desk, the pain helping to focus him. Draco put a hand on his shoulder supportively, but Harry shied away violently this time, shaking hard. His chair squeaked on the floor, and this time he had really done it.
"OUT!" screamed Snape. "Get out of my classroom this instant!"
His greasy hair flew about his face, and spit came out of his contorted mouth. Harry fled.
(Waste of space. . .layabout. . .deserve every bit of it. . .abnormal. . .never fit in. . .worthless. . .)
Draco watched in a combination of awe and extreme concern. Harry was as white as a sheet, and shivering as though. . .as though he was terrified. Draco couldn't remember Snape having such an effect on even Gryffindors, from what Lucius had told him. But then again, Snape hadn't hated anyone as much as he seemed to hate Harry. Draco would have put money on Slytherin being on minus points had it not been Snape's own house. But two detentions on the first lesson had to be a record. Snape was in a foul mood for the rest of the lesson, and Gryffindor lost 40 points between them, leaving one accident-prone boy called Longbottom in tears.
When the lesson was over, Snape called Draco over.
"How is your father, Draco?"
"He is very well, sir. He sends you his best wishes."
"And of course, you will send him mine when you write?"
"Of course, sir."
"Very good. Now you should be off to your next lesson."
"Yes, sir. Sir?"
"Yes?"
"Do you. . .I. . ." Draco paused. "Nothing. It doesn't matter."
Snape looked at him, eyes seeming to burn into Draco's very soul. Finally he nodded.
"You may of course come to me at any time, Draco, although I presume you are capable of solving your own disputes."
Draco nodded, and left for his next lesson, thinking about Harry.
***************************************
When he reached the charms room, he found Harry already there, calm and composed, and he wondered what had upset him so much in Potions. He was, as Draco had thought, a strong wizard, and picked up all the spells quickly. He rendered the Transfiguration witch speechless by impeccably transfiguring a desk into a pig, thinking that McGonagall's demonstration was for them to do. Finally, after she was convinced it wasn't a fluke, Slytherin were awarded 10 points, and Harry glowed with pride. At lunchtime, harry disappeared and Draco didn't see him until nearly the start of their last lesson, in the library. He was practising charms, levitating a book and lowering it to the floor, and he almost jumped out of his skin when Draco shook him.
"Oh, sorry Draco. I didn't realise what the time was."
"We need to go to flying, you fool. I brought you some sandwiches. What?"
Harry had begun to shiver.
"Nothing. . .just a little cold. Thanks for the food."
(Imbecile. . .fool. . .retard. . .beat some sense into you. . .)
Harry didn't eat much, transfiguring the remains of his sandwich into a napkin (he was quite clearly amazing at transfiguration, whereas his other subjects were very good) and throwing it into the bin on the way out. And then they had their first flying lesson.
"Alright" said the hawk-eyed teacher. "Hold your hand above your broom, and say 'up!'"
Harry's raised up into his hand on the second go, Draco got it on the first. The other students, including Crabbe and Goyle, seemed to be having much more trouble.
"So, have you ever flown before?" asked Draco. "I fly regularly, I learnt when I was young. Hopefully I'll be on the house team - it's unusual to pick a first year, but I do have a lot of experience."
"Harry shook his head. "No, I've never flown before. I think I'll be useless!"
"Well, everyone is at first. It's just a question of. . ."
He was cut off by Madam Hooch's whistle.
"Alright, position yourselves for takeoff. On the count of three. . .one, two, three, take-off!"
The class raised as a wobbly whole, and hovered a metre from the ground. Everyone except Millicent Bulstrode, who had gone too high. She looked down, screamed, and fell off her broomstick, landing with a crunch on the pitch. Immediately Madam Hooch was there, checking her.
"Oh dear. . .it's a broken ankle. . .never mind dear, we'll just levitate you to the Hospital Wing, and Madam Pomfrey will have that fixed up in the blink of an eye. . ."
She levitated a whimpering Millicent, and turned to glare at the rest of the class, who had now touched down.
"If any of you fly while I am gone, you will be out of Hogwarts before you can say Quidditch!"
And with that she parted, Millicent hovering in front of her like a grotesque puppet. It didn't take long for a red-headed Gryffindor who Harry dimly recollected as Weatherby or something to begin laughing. Draco flushed with anger, and moved forwards.
"Say that again, Weasley?"
Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles menacingly, and Weasley squirmed. A bushy haired girl tried to pull him back.
"Oh for goodness sake, Ron, don't get into trouble. Imagine if we lost house points!"
"Yeah. . .and we would, not having a completely biased teacher. I mean, did you see the little bastard in potions?"
Weasley's smirking face filled Harry's vision, reminded him of Dudley.
(freak!)
Draco moved forward.
"You do not insult my friends, Weasley!"
Before either of them knew it, Weasley had snatched Harry's Slytherin badge from his chest, and taken off, calling down.
"You're a disgrace to your family, Potter. You're a disgrace to everyone."
Draco felt Harry trembling, and made a mental note to find out why he was so jumpy. Then, just as Weasley threw Harry's badge hard somewhere across the field, Hooch came back.
"RONALD WEASLEY!" she bellowed, "GET DOWN THIS INSTANT!"
Abashed, Weasley descended, toppling of his broomstick very inelegantly and provoking laughs from the Gryffindors, Harry not included. Harry stood looking at the ground, very pale, not noticing Ron being told off, having house points deducted, and being set a detention with Filch for that evening. Not noticing the lesson ending, and everyone heading into the castle.
Draco touched his arm, now expecting the flinch.
"Harry" he said softly. "Harry, look at me."
Harry shook his head, eyes fixed on the ground, and Draco felt a new-found pity growing for this strange boy.
"Harry" he said one more time.
"Leave me alone" relied Harry, his voice choked. "Please."
Draco nodded, squeezed Harry's shoulder, and left.
And Harry stood alone.
Again, many thinks to Diagonalist for forcing me to post it. You have to go and read all her stories, because she is fantastic. Love you xxx
Draco, Harry reflected, was so calm it was a little creepy. He seemed totally unfazed by everything that happened; although maybe things like talking hats were commonplace in the Wizarding world. It was all so big, vibrant, stunning; he didn't know whether to look at the trestle tables containing more people than he had even seen in his life, or at the ceiling, which was obviously keeping the heat in but looked like the night sky.
"Draco" he whispered, and a pair of grey eyes met his, silently allowing him to ask. "Draco, what's the hat for?"
"Oh, you put it on your head and it sorts you into your House. Do you know about the houses?"
Harry nodded, remembering what Hagrid had told him. But he couldn't see a difference between the houses from what he had seen at the station; the only nice person at all had been Draco. He wondered if Hagrid hadn't been exaggerating a little bit.
"Don't worry" said Draco reassuringly.
"Do you know what house you'll be put in?"
"Slytherin" said Draco proudly. "All my family have been, for centuries." Then his face hardened slightly. "You will be in Gryffindor, Harry. I'm sorry - I will have to victimise and persecute you. It's not. . .not right for people to be friends outside of different houses."
Harry looked at him, expression blank, hiding his deep disappointment.
"Alright" he said flatly. "Alright."
**********************************************
"Malfoy, Draco" read out the prim witch with dark hair pulled back into a severe bun. Draco nodded briefly to harry before languidly stepping up to the platform.
"Come on, Mister Malfoy, we don't have all day" snapped the witch - Professor McGonagall. Malfoy smirked insolently and placed the hat above his head. It barely touched the silvery blond hair before screaming "Slytherin!"
Harry's heart dropped a few metres, and he sagged slightly as other irrelevant names were read out and sorted. Glancing around, he could actually see differences between the houses. For one, they all had different coloured badges on their robes, but there were other differences. As a whole, the Hufflepuffs, in yellow and black, were podgy, round faced and anxious looking. A large proportion of Ravenclaws were bent over books at the table, seeming detached from what was going on. The Gryffindors were mainly glaring at the Slytherins, fingering their gold and red badges with pride, as though they were a higher race, and the Slytherins sneered back. Harry could understand what Draco meant.
He was jolted out of his thoughts by his name being called.
"Potter, Harry"
Little fires of hissing whispers lit up around the room, and Harry felt his face flush. He caught sight of Draco watching him guardedly, and that was the last thing he saw before the hat slipped over his eyes.
* Well well, another Potter. But oh my, you are not like your parents at all. More powerful, if I am not mistaken. . .hmm, and bitter with life. But you are good. I cannot see you falling to the dark. Definitely not a Hufflepuff. Nor a Ravenclaw - you are not so studious. So it is between Slytherin and Gryffindor, young Harry. *
^ Wherever I will fit in. ^ thought Harry. ^ I just want to be where I belong. ^
* Sensible, Mr Potter. Hmm. . .you are brave, no doubt, but by no means foolish. Loyal, but not naïve. It is a tricky choice, but I believe you will find your true friends in SLYTHERIN! *
Harry got to his feet and walked over to the Slytherin table, aware of loud clapping, and the eyes of the Hall on him. Draco pulled him down into a seat, snapping at Crabbe to budge up, and patted him on the back, grey eyes shining. He didn't notice Harry's flinch and soft gasp of pain.
"Well done Harry! Wow, I can't believe it! I'm so glad you are a Slytherin"
Harry smiled, feeling at home here.
"Me too."
But he didn't like the looks he was getting from some people. Several Gryffindors were staring at him, and muttering under their breath, scowling. The Hufflepuffs were ignorant, simply beaming into space, and the Ravenclaws looked curious. But it was the animosity burning in the eyes of one dark-haired teacher that worried Harry the most. The man looked like he wanted to rip Harry into little pieces and stamp on them. Harry tugged on Draco's sleeve.
"Draco, who's that teacher, with the long black hair?"
"Oh, that's professor Snape" said Draco absently. "He's our head of house. Responsible for all the Slytherins."
Eyeing Millicent Bulstrode, who had just been sorted into Slytherin, he missed Harry's groan and slump.
"I'm going to die" he whimpered, his previously high spirits suddenly dampened. "I'm bloody well going to die!"
*******************************************************
"Potter!"
Harry didn't hear the sharp voice. He was busy scribbling down the previous few lines of Professor Snape's speech.
*. . .And even put a stopper in death.*
"Potter!" roared Snape, making the small boy jump nearly out of his skin.
"Y-yes, sir?"
Severus regarded the obnoxious toad through narrowed eyes. Why the hell had he been sorted into Slytherin anyway? His parents were Gryffindors, as were their parents. Well, Potter Senior's parents, anyway. And the boy was part Mudblood. His lip curled in disdain, and he stalked forwards.
"What, may I ask, was so important that you were not listening to your professor?"
Harry edged back in his chair, hating how much this man reminded him of Vernon, in the dark smouldering eyes and acidic words.
(Freak, lazy, worthless)
"I'm sorry, sir. I was taking notes."
Snape snatched the parchment and ripped it in two, eyes glittering furiously.
"You will write notes this evening, after your detention with Filch at 7.00 sharp. And I shall expect them on my desk tomorrow morning at 5.00, am I clear?"
Harry nodded.
"Yes, sir" he whispered, casting his eyes to the desk. He had wanted this lesson to go well, and he was already in trouble.
(waste of space. . .beat some sense into you. . .suffocate your abnormality)
In the seat next to him, Draco shook his head.
"He really doesn't like you, Harry. That's weird, he's normally really nice to Slytherins, he favours them because they. . ."
Snape had stalked over again, and this time he looked livid.
"Another detention, Potter. I do not expect this sort of impertinence in my lessons."
Draco spoke up.
"It was me talking, Professor. I'm sorry."
Snape snorted.
"Leading your friends astray, Potter? The detention stands"
He swept off, ignoring the whispers of the class and the stares that Harry was getting. Unsure of what to do with his trembling hands, Harry clenched them together hard under the desk, the pain helping to focus him. Draco put a hand on his shoulder supportively, but Harry shied away violently this time, shaking hard. His chair squeaked on the floor, and this time he had really done it.
"OUT!" screamed Snape. "Get out of my classroom this instant!"
His greasy hair flew about his face, and spit came out of his contorted mouth. Harry fled.
(Waste of space. . .layabout. . .deserve every bit of it. . .abnormal. . .never fit in. . .worthless. . .)
Draco watched in a combination of awe and extreme concern. Harry was as white as a sheet, and shivering as though. . .as though he was terrified. Draco couldn't remember Snape having such an effect on even Gryffindors, from what Lucius had told him. But then again, Snape hadn't hated anyone as much as he seemed to hate Harry. Draco would have put money on Slytherin being on minus points had it not been Snape's own house. But two detentions on the first lesson had to be a record. Snape was in a foul mood for the rest of the lesson, and Gryffindor lost 40 points between them, leaving one accident-prone boy called Longbottom in tears.
When the lesson was over, Snape called Draco over.
"How is your father, Draco?"
"He is very well, sir. He sends you his best wishes."
"And of course, you will send him mine when you write?"
"Of course, sir."
"Very good. Now you should be off to your next lesson."
"Yes, sir. Sir?"
"Yes?"
"Do you. . .I. . ." Draco paused. "Nothing. It doesn't matter."
Snape looked at him, eyes seeming to burn into Draco's very soul. Finally he nodded.
"You may of course come to me at any time, Draco, although I presume you are capable of solving your own disputes."
Draco nodded, and left for his next lesson, thinking about Harry.
***************************************
When he reached the charms room, he found Harry already there, calm and composed, and he wondered what had upset him so much in Potions. He was, as Draco had thought, a strong wizard, and picked up all the spells quickly. He rendered the Transfiguration witch speechless by impeccably transfiguring a desk into a pig, thinking that McGonagall's demonstration was for them to do. Finally, after she was convinced it wasn't a fluke, Slytherin were awarded 10 points, and Harry glowed with pride. At lunchtime, harry disappeared and Draco didn't see him until nearly the start of their last lesson, in the library. He was practising charms, levitating a book and lowering it to the floor, and he almost jumped out of his skin when Draco shook him.
"Oh, sorry Draco. I didn't realise what the time was."
"We need to go to flying, you fool. I brought you some sandwiches. What?"
Harry had begun to shiver.
"Nothing. . .just a little cold. Thanks for the food."
(Imbecile. . .fool. . .retard. . .beat some sense into you. . .)
Harry didn't eat much, transfiguring the remains of his sandwich into a napkin (he was quite clearly amazing at transfiguration, whereas his other subjects were very good) and throwing it into the bin on the way out. And then they had their first flying lesson.
"Alright" said the hawk-eyed teacher. "Hold your hand above your broom, and say 'up!'"
Harry's raised up into his hand on the second go, Draco got it on the first. The other students, including Crabbe and Goyle, seemed to be having much more trouble.
"So, have you ever flown before?" asked Draco. "I fly regularly, I learnt when I was young. Hopefully I'll be on the house team - it's unusual to pick a first year, but I do have a lot of experience."
"Harry shook his head. "No, I've never flown before. I think I'll be useless!"
"Well, everyone is at first. It's just a question of. . ."
He was cut off by Madam Hooch's whistle.
"Alright, position yourselves for takeoff. On the count of three. . .one, two, three, take-off!"
The class raised as a wobbly whole, and hovered a metre from the ground. Everyone except Millicent Bulstrode, who had gone too high. She looked down, screamed, and fell off her broomstick, landing with a crunch on the pitch. Immediately Madam Hooch was there, checking her.
"Oh dear. . .it's a broken ankle. . .never mind dear, we'll just levitate you to the Hospital Wing, and Madam Pomfrey will have that fixed up in the blink of an eye. . ."
She levitated a whimpering Millicent, and turned to glare at the rest of the class, who had now touched down.
"If any of you fly while I am gone, you will be out of Hogwarts before you can say Quidditch!"
And with that she parted, Millicent hovering in front of her like a grotesque puppet. It didn't take long for a red-headed Gryffindor who Harry dimly recollected as Weatherby or something to begin laughing. Draco flushed with anger, and moved forwards.
"Say that again, Weasley?"
Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles menacingly, and Weasley squirmed. A bushy haired girl tried to pull him back.
"Oh for goodness sake, Ron, don't get into trouble. Imagine if we lost house points!"
"Yeah. . .and we would, not having a completely biased teacher. I mean, did you see the little bastard in potions?"
Weasley's smirking face filled Harry's vision, reminded him of Dudley.
(freak!)
Draco moved forward.
"You do not insult my friends, Weasley!"
Before either of them knew it, Weasley had snatched Harry's Slytherin badge from his chest, and taken off, calling down.
"You're a disgrace to your family, Potter. You're a disgrace to everyone."
Draco felt Harry trembling, and made a mental note to find out why he was so jumpy. Then, just as Weasley threw Harry's badge hard somewhere across the field, Hooch came back.
"RONALD WEASLEY!" she bellowed, "GET DOWN THIS INSTANT!"
Abashed, Weasley descended, toppling of his broomstick very inelegantly and provoking laughs from the Gryffindors, Harry not included. Harry stood looking at the ground, very pale, not noticing Ron being told off, having house points deducted, and being set a detention with Filch for that evening. Not noticing the lesson ending, and everyone heading into the castle.
Draco touched his arm, now expecting the flinch.
"Harry" he said softly. "Harry, look at me."
Harry shook his head, eyes fixed on the ground, and Draco felt a new-found pity growing for this strange boy.
"Harry" he said one more time.
"Leave me alone" relied Harry, his voice choked. "Please."
Draco nodded, squeezed Harry's shoulder, and left.
And Harry stood alone.
