CHAPTER FOUR

Draco's smile was bright, and just a little dangerous as he fixed his uniform in the mirror. His tie, striped red and gold, refused to sit straight, and he suspected that had something to do with the Gryffindor colours he was being forced to wear. That, or his disgust at the fact that Harry's dream uniform was exactly the same as their Hogwarts one, minus the robes. It was more than a little pathetic.

He couldn't say that he was even remotely excited about starting at Harry's version of Hogwarts, or, for that matter, of attending a school that was for all intents and appearances, Muggle.

Malfoys did not do Muggle.

...........

"Draco!"

Draco turned, quickly pasting a smile onto his face, and hiding the wince that hearing the youngest Weasley call him by his first name brought on. He was having considerable trouble getting used to being on friendly terms with these people he had spent so long hating.

"Ginny," he returned, waving slightly at her, and forcing himself to sound like he was at least a little happy to see her. "How've you been?"

She shrugged, long red hair swishing about her shoulders. She was pretty, he decided, in her own way, but far from his type.

"I've been alright," she said, coming to a stop in front of him, bouncing back and forth on her heels slightly. "And you?"

Draco didn't know how to answer that. Disorientated? Annoyed? Tired? Desperate to just get this all over with so that he could go back to his own world? Maybe even a little guilty for what he was here to do?

He settled for waving his hand slightly in the air. "So so," he replied. "I've been getting used to being in a new place. London is very different from where I used to live."

Ginny nodded sympathetically, and understanding smile on her face. "I know how you feel. When we first moved here, I used to get lost all the time. It was terribly embarrassing. And to add to that, I knew no one but my family. I hated my first year here. It was awful."

Draco wondered if that was a reflection of her first year at the real Hogwarts. He was fairly certain that it couldn't have been the most pleasant of times. He'd met Voldemort, and shuddered to think what it would have been like to be possessed by him. Far from pleasant, he was sure.

Pushing those thoughts aside, and marking the intracacies of Harry's world as too complex to try and work through at that particular moment, he smiled at her. "Hopefully my year won't be too bad."

Her return smile was bright and sincere. "I'm sure it will."

...........

His first class turned out to be Advanced Chemistry with none other than Professor Snape, and the friendly neighbourhood Gryffindor trio. He suspected it would be an interesting lesson.

He was right. Less than five minutes into the lesson he discovered Neville Longbottom - once more the fumbling young teen he had known rather than the jaded survivor of war he knew now - when a beaker blew up, shards of class flying across the room, one smaller slice embedding itself in Draco's palm as he turned to see what had happened.

He hissed under his breath, clenching his other handing into a tight fist, and squeezing his eyes shut.

Not thinking, he breathed a quiet 'Merlin' out under his breath, eyes snapping open as he realised what he had said, in time to see Harry whisk around to face him, eyes widening in what Draco thought might be recognition.

The moment of recognition passed quickly, and Hogwarts own Golden Boy was up out of his seat, and at Draco's side in a flash. The worry in his eyes was disconcerting - something Draco had never seen, and thought that he never would in conjunction with him. He wondered when the things in this world would cease to amaze him.

"Draco." His name, coming from Potter's lips, was just as strange, and he closed his eyes briefly, fighting against the overwhelming weirdness of it all. "Are you all right?"

His eyes snapped open again, and he frowned slightly. "Does it look like I am?" He scowled down at his hand, watching as blood slowly seeped out around the shard of glass. In the Wizarding world he would have had one of the best Healers avaible to fix it. Here, he was forced to grit his teeth and endure the pain, allowed only to rely on Muggle medicine lest he attract unwanted attention to himself. Physically induced pain was not something that he was particularly used to, something he had only been forced to endure when caused by his own stupidity.

Countless fights with the teen in front of him sprang to mind, and he allowed a slight smile to flit across his mouth.

Harry, strangely enough, was blushing, eyes lowered so that Draco couldn't look him in the eyes. "Right," he muttered. "Sorry."

Someone cleared their throat, and Draco looked up quickly, seeing Snape frowning down at them.

"Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy. May I ask what is going on here?"

Those words, in that disdainful tone Draco had grown so used to over the years sent a pang of something akin to home-sickness through him, and he lowered his own eyes, smiling sadly.

Snape, while not exactly a friend, had been one of the few people Draco had managed to find it in himself to actually care for. It had been hard to lose him, and seeing him here, not quite real, was almost as hard.

"Professor," Draco was more than a little amused to see that Harry's lips curled in distaste as he looked at Snape. "Neville's beaker, it exploded-"

"- I had noticed, Mister Potter," Snape interjected drily.

Harry glared at him. "-And one of the shards is in Draco's hand," his eyes flicked to rest on Draco pointedly. "Professor."

Snape returned the glare with equal distaste before turning to inspect Draco's hand. "I suggest, Mister Malfoy, that you head to the infirmary and get that taken care of."

If the man in front of him had been the Severus Snape that Draco had once known, he would have made some sort of sarcastic reply to that, before heading to the infirmary. Meeting this Snape's eyes, as he stood, he knew that he would be unable to do that here. The man's eyes were cold, and there was very little of the man that Draco had once knew in them.

It hurt, and when Harry reached his hand out to him - to help him, or for something else, Draco wasn't sure what - he flinched away, unable to stand contact with the person who had twisted everything he had once known and cared for, into something so harshly wrong.

He closed his eyes briefly, then stood, his uninjured hand clenched into a fist as he made his way to the infirmary, his thoughts at that moment focused only on getting back to the real world as soon as he could.

...........