Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all other related characters and places are the property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, et al. I do not claim ownership of said characters, and am only using them for this piece of writing.
Summary: At the beginning of each year, new students are divided into four. But what if the Hat had made a few different choices? Multi-chaptered AU.
House Colours: Four Shades of Grey
The Head Girl looked to be on the verge of tears.
And that was what brought the reality of Justin Finch-Fletchley's attack home. Not the look of shock on his year-mates' faces, not the terror displayed so prominently on the faces of those who came from Muggle backgrounds, not the way the Head of House's voice cracked as the news was broken.
No, it was the Head Girl's calm way of closing her eyes, and he knew she was trying not to cry at the images that had to be haunting her. It was that simple act that made him instinctively clench his fists with barely suppressed anger, directed at the Slytherin he knew would be laughing about this when he was alone with his cronies.
Once the meeting was over, students began to disperse, many heading for their dormitories, hoping that they would be safe there.
He did not follow his year-mates to his dorm; instead, he waited until Professor Sprout had finished talking to the Head Girl, and had taken her leave.
"Lizzie?"
The Head Girl turned around, and again blinked back tears. He knew she would not cry until she was alone: she was determined to hold the Hufflepuffs together, and not let this break them.
She was good like that.
"Yes, Draco? What is it?"
"I-"
----
It would have been an understatement to say that Draco Malfoy had been surprised when he had been Sorted into Hufflepuff. With everything his father had told him, and his mother as well, Draco had been certain that he would have been Sorted into Slytherin, like the rest of his family.
But that had not happened.
"Malfoy, Draco!"
"Hufflepuff!"
Those who knew who he was were too surprised not to clap when the Sorting Hat made its decision. Those who did not know that this was the Malfoy heir who had been sent to spend the next seven years amongst the 'patient Hufflepuffs', as the Hat had called them, clapped anyway.
In a state of shock, Draco headed towards the Hufflepuff table, and found an empty seat. There had been no warm welcome from the Hufflepuffs for him, as there had been with the other new members. No. His father's name drew a line in the sand between Draco and them.
If only he had been a Slytherin, like he was meant to have been... the Hat must have made a mistake... any minute Professor Dumbledore would say that Draco was supposed to be a Slytherin...
But no. The old witch, McGonagall, Draco knew, was putting the stool and the Hat away, and the Headmaster stood up.
"Welcome! Welcome to another new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Blubber! Nitwit! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"
And then the Sorting was over.
And Draco Malfoy was a Hufflepuff.
No one had wanted to talk to him. Word had travelled amongst the Hufflepuffs of who he was, even the Muggle-borns. Draco had known that his family's reputation would precede him – but then again, Draco had thought that he would be a Slytherin.
About five people along, on Draco's left, a girl picked up her plate and stood up.
"Scooch over, Cedric," she told the boy next to Draco, "and the rest of you." They all obeyed, and made room for her.
She sat down next to Draco, and set her plate in front of her. When she turned to him, Draco saw a Prefect's badge glitter on her robes.
Her face was quite round, with bright blue eyes, and a wide smile, making her look around twelve or thirteen, at the oldest, even though she had to be a Fifth Year, at the very least. Her hair was loose, brushing the top of her shoulders, and for the first time Draco knew what people were talking about when they mentioned someone's hair colour to be 'mouse'. She had a sprinkling of freckles over her small nose, which was slightly upturned, adding to her childlike appearance, which was in turn only emphasised by her lack of stature.
"So," said the Prefect, "I don't believe we've met. I'm Elizabeth Sefton." She extended a hand – it was as small as that of a ten-year-old girl. "But my friends call me Lizzie."
Draco hesitated, before taking the hand. "Draco Malfoy."
"Ah, yes," Lizzie said, grinning at him widely, before letting go of his hand. "I suppose you've noticed that your Sorting was a bit of a surprise to all of us. But then again," Draco noticed she had not stopped smiling, "it was probably a surprise to you, too." She wrinkled her nose, eyes sparkling. "But don't worry about it. If you ever need anything, you can come to me anytime. Or to the other Prefects. The new Fifth Year Prefects need to learn the ropes sometime."
"You're a Sixth Year?" Draco asked, surprised.
"Oh, I know. I look a lot younger than I am. You know something?" she asked conspiratorially. "When I was at King's Cross this morning, one of the conductors asked me if I was excited to be starting at my new school." She chuckled. "He thought I was your age!"
Draco was surprised. A Muggle could really be that dumb? "Really, Elizabeth?"
"Didn't I tell you, Draco? My friends call me Lizzie."
"But – oh." Draco supposed it would be useful, having one of the Prefects as his 'friend'. But then again, this Lizzie seemed like that word he had read about, but had never quite fully understood.
Nice.
Lizzie shoved a plate under Draco's nose. "Would you like some?" she asked.
Draco nodded and took a pork chop from the plate. "Thank you," he found himself saying, which surprised him. He had, of course, been taught to use words like 'please' and 'thank you' when he was growing up, but had never really had the chance to use them.
Now, it seemed, that he would have to use them all the time. But for some reason, Draco did not mind.
"Trying out for Chaser this year, Cedric? Or are you still waiting for the Seeker position to open up?"
The handsome boy who Lizzie had told to move over nodded. "Chaser. I don't want to wait for another two years for Seeker without playing at all."
"That, and he wants to be captain by sixth year!" interrupted another boy.
"Knock it off, Henry," Lizzie told him. "You're a Prefect now – you are supposed to be responsible. He mumbled an apology, and looked away. Lizzie seized her opportunity to poke her tongue out at him.
The smothered laughs, Draco's included, made him turn back. "What? What is it?" He patted the back of his head, as if there was something there, and the rest of the Hufflepuffs laughed even harder.
Finally the puddings disappeared, Dumbledore made some school announcements, and the school song was sung. And the start of term feast ended.
Henry, one of the new Fifth Year Prefects, stood up, and then looked at Lizzie expectantly. Although she gave off the feeling of being able to do it herself – that sense of natural understanding and leadership – she said, "I am not doing it. You are the Prefect. It is your responsibility. Melanie, you're supposed to help him," she added to a girl also wearing a Prefect's badge.
"Hufflepuffs, follow me," Henry said, Melanie moving to stand beside him.
More or less at the same time, the Hufflepuffs rose from their seats, older students helping the younger ones.
"Come along, Justin, is it? Good. I'm usually terrible at names."
"Looking forward to classes, Hannah? Don't be nervous – the teachers are really nice. Well, except for Professor Snape – he's evil. McGonagall's a bit strict sometimes, but as long as you pay attention, you've got nothing to worry about."
"Bones, huh? You wouldn't be related to Amelia Bones, would you? She's your auntie? Huh, small world – she's my Dad's boss."
"Hurry up, Draco," Lizzie called, "if you're slow you won't be able to get into the Common Room."
Draco picked up the pace, not wanting to be left behind, although, as Lizzie reassured him later, no Hufflepuff would ever leave another behind.
----
The Hufflepuff Common Room was, in a word; cozy, filled with soft armchairs that just begged to be sat in.
But the general warmth of the Common Room had been struck by a sudden chill when Lizzie casually remarked to Justin Finch-Fletchley, one of the other new First Years, that it had been confusing for her, as well, coming from a Muggle family, but that it would get better.
"You're Muggle-born?" Draco asked, shocked, although he had very little knowledge of what that actually meant, all his knowledge being gleaned from his parents, who had not bothered to hide their disdain for Muggle-born witches and wizards.
All the other Hufflepuffs were shocked, and were about to close ranks around their Prefect when she spoke. "I am the first person in my family's history to have magic. I knew a long time before I received my letter that I was different. But I am a witch, Draco Malfoy, just as you are a wizard." She pulled out her wand: a short piece of willow, and held it so close to his face that she could have tapped him on the end of his nose with it. "Do you see this? It is my wand. I use it to do magic with. Just like you have a wand, with which you do the same. You have year-mates who are Muggle-born, and you are going to have to spend the majority of the next seven years with them. So you had better either learn to like it, or lump it, Draco Malfoy."
Without another word, Lizzie had gone straight up the girls' stairs.
She had sought him out later that evening, bearing chocolates and an apology for her behaviour: she was older, she should have known better. And she had done it in front of the rest of the House, something that was inexcusable.
Over the next few months, Draco had learnt that Muggle-borns were no worse than other wizards: by the end of the year Draco counted Justin Finch-Fletchley amongst his closest friends. And for his twelfth birthday on June 5, among his many presents was a set of the Chronicles of Narnia, attached with a note saying that now Lizzie would not have to ask Zacharias Smith to go and retrieve it. Lizzie had been clever, too – he admired it about her, and the other Hufflepuffs, along with their more famous traits – knowing what Draco had told her about Lucius, she had Charmed them to look like a set of books on wizarding genealogy.
Being a Hufflepuff was useful in other ways, too. There was always someone to help you with your homework: Lizzie had had a small crowd of people following her towards the end of the year, asking for help with Charms. Cedric Diggory was always willing to lend Draco his broomstick, and even gave him a few pointers. And the older students always brought back things from Hogsmeade for the younger students who were not yet allowed to go.
By the end of the year, Draco Malfoy was proud to call himself a Hufflepuff, and believed that the Sorting Hat had indeed made the right choice for him.
----
"I-""Draco? Do you know something about this? Because if you do, you have to tell me, before someone else gets attacked."
"Like you?" Draco asked. "You're Muggle-born."
Lizzie sighed. "I know. And that's why I need you to tell me, right now, what you know."
"I think I know who it is that's attacking people. One of the Slytherins."
"Do you know which Slytherin?" Lizzie asked, her voice tired. Draco realised that, like all the other Muggle-borns, she had been living on-edge recently, wondering if she was going to be next, all because of that stupid warning...
Draco nodded. "Harry Potter."