A/N: Throughout this story there will be excerpts taken from the books. Most of the excerpts will be altered to fit the plot I've laid out while also following the canon timeline. I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to the Wizarding World. Thank you and enjoy.

-Diagon Alley-

Eleven year old Harry Potter stared in awe and wonder as he walked down the streets of Diagon Alley, all while being steered by the half giant Rubeus Hagrid. Magical people, his people, were going about their day as normal, not yet aware that they were walking amongst the most famous wizard of the latest decade. It was still hard to believe that just 48 hours ago, he was still being tormented and abused by the Dursleys, no hope in sight. Now, he was with his "guardian angel" shopping for school supplies to go to a magic school, amongst kids his age who was just like him, being taught by professors who were just like him, and the best part of all? No Dursleys for ten months at a time. It was like heavenly bliss. They continued walking as Harry swung a bag full of money from Gringotts, grinning with glee at the fact that he was holding more money than he had ever held in his life; the Dursleys would have surely hidden all traces of money from him if they had known such a fortune that was left behind for him had even existed.

"Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, Harry, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts." He did still look a bit sick, so Harry entered Madam Malkin's shop alone, feeling nervous. Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she said, when Harry started to speak. "Got the lot here — another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length.

"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley.

"Have you got your own broom?" the boy went on.

"No," said Harry.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," Harry said again, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.

"I do — Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my House, and I must say, I agree. Know what House you'll be in yet?"

"No," said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been — imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm," said Harry, wishing he could say something a bit more interesting.

"I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.

"That's Hagrid," said Harry, pleased to know something the boy didn't. "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"

"He's the gamekeeper," said Harry. He was liking the boy less and less every second.

"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage — lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."

"I think he's brilliant," said Harry coldly.

"Do you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," said Harry shortly. He didn't feel much like go- ing into the matter with this boy.

"Oh, sorry," said the other, not sounding sorry at all. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"

"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

But before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and Harry, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, hopped down from the footstool.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawling boy.

Harry was rather quiet as he ate the ice cream Hagrid had bought him (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts).

"What's up?" said Hagrid.

"Nothing," Harry said at first, but after a bit he went in about the boy from the shop and everything else he didn't know about.

"And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?"

"School Houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o' duffers, but —"

"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff," said Harry gloomily.

"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," said Hagrid darkly. "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one."

"Vol-, sorry — You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?"

"Years an' years ago," said Hagrid.

Hagrid guided Harry down the way as they continued their shopping for all of Harry's school supplies.

-Malfoy Manor-

The boy with the pale, pointed face shot out of a fireplace into a grand entryway of a rather large house. He stood up and straightened his clothes as a woman shot out of the fireplace, immediately followed by a man with same exact pale, pointed face. The woman tended to the boy's clothes to make sure all of the soot from the fireplace was off of him. Meanwhile, the man straightened himself out and looked about as if he were in search of someone.

"Dobby!" he called out.

There was a slight *crack* in the air, and a house elf appeared a little ways beside the man. He scampered to the front of the man and bowed forward on his knees, kissing the man's feet.

"Yes, master?" he said in a high pitched voice.

"Clean up the foyer. I do not want to see any remnants of soot on the floor, any at all, or I'll have your head. When you are done with that, you are to hand wash our robes. Be careful not to do anything to mess them up; they're made with the finest of silk threads. I'll have your head for that as well if they are ruined in any way."

"Yes, master," the elf squeaked as he gathered their robes and ran off to the kitchen with them. The man then turned to face his wife and son.

"Draco, come and step into the drawing room for a moment, will you?"

"Yes, father," the boy said enthusiastically as he left his mother's side. The man put his arm on Draco's shoulder and guided him down the hall. Grand statues and illustrious portraits lined the walls, all looking as if they glittered with some form of fortune. They turned into a large room at the end of the hall. With a flick of his wand, the man lit the fire place, engulfing the room with light. He sat in the arm chair that was next to the hearth, fiddling with an artifact that was on the ledge. Draco stood a ways from the hearth in the center of the room, arms clasped behind his back, staring eagerly in his father's direction.

"What did you need to talk about, father?" he asked earnestly. His father mindlessly fiddled with the artifact as he stared into into the fire.

"As it is always a talk amongst our kind, I am fairly certain you know about the existence of Harry Potter? Or at least you've heard his name thrown around enough to where you are familiar with it."

Draco's eyes glinted in the light. "Of course, father. We all know there's neither a witch nor wizard alive who doesn't know of the great Harry Potter."

"Yes, of course. Well, I should tell you that should my memory and knowledge serve me well, Mr. Potter is coming up on being school aged. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, he is actually going to be starting at Hogwarts this year with you."

Draco's face lit up. "Is he really, father?"

"So I've been told."

He stopped fiddling with the artifact and stared into the fire for a bit before looking at Draco, stroking the stubble on his chin as he looked his son up and down.

"If it is true that he will be starting at Hogwarts this year, do make a conscious effort to make friends with him, Draco."

"Yes, father."

"I have no doubt that he has very strong powers; a boy of his caliber being able to survive the Dark Lord? Surely he has a lot to offer to this world. It would definitely be beneficial for you to be on good terms with him. Make sure to impress him all you can."

"Yes sir, father."

The man waved his hand, indicating that Draco was free to go. Draco left the room, leaving the man to stare at the fire. Shortly after, the woman came into the room dote on him.

"Are you feeling alright, Lucious?"

"Of course I am, my love."

Lucious beckoned her over, and she sat upon his lap, caressing his face.

"Our darling boy is soon off to start his education. I can't believe he's already of age. Only seems like yesterday he was still our little bundle of joy."

"I still think we should have sent him to Durmstrang. His education would have been far more favorable."

"Now, you know how I feel about him being so far away."

"I know, I know."

They stayed in the arm chair together until Dobby came into the room.

"Mistress Narcissa, a letter has arrived for you in the kitchen."

"Thank you, Dobby." Narcissa answered. Dobby bowed before leaving the room. Narcissa stood up, and Lucious stood up after her. "Regardless of which school he goes to, I have no doubt in mind that our darling Draco will be successful in all of his endeavors."

"As he should be," Lucious said as he walked out of the office with his wife, his hand on her waist, "I will expect nothing less from him. Even if he's not top of the class, I expect him to do better than the mudblood scum he will be surrounded by."

"As he should," Narcissa agreed. They continued their walk to the kitchen.

Upstairs on the third floor, Draco looked out the window across the grounds, envisioning life at Hogwarts with the famous Harry Potter as his friend. He saw all the students and teachers fawning over them as they walked down the hallway together, the ultimate kings of the school. The cheers as he and Harry soared through the sky while playing Quidditch. His eyes glinted and a mischievous smile formed across his face.