A Long Slow Slide

EDITED

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters (man, I wish…) J.K. Rowling is the wonderful creator of them, I only get to manipulate them however I want, but I get nothing from it except making them do funny things. Heh.

Notes: The title of this fic is the title of a song by the wonderful Jewel, I'm only using it, I don't get anything but enjoyment from it and the title of this chapter is a lyric of a song by Hawthorne Heights. They are a really good band.

I think that all of the titles of chapters in this story will be song titles or lyrics, just to forewarn you. Lol.

Enjoy. Luv'n'sunshine Lexi

PS. A humongous thank-you to my amazing Beta Valedro, you rock my Ravenclaw socks!

Chapter Two: The Sharp Side of the Blade

"Ron, Ron!" Hermione called.

A tall red-haired teenager turned at the sound of Hermione's voice. "Hey 'Mione." He walked back towards them. He wore a football jersey and black shorts.

"Who's this?" Ron asked, looking at Harry. Harry could almost hear Ron's thoughts evaluating him, taking notes. His jet-black hair swept forward over one eye, the black eye make-up, the old ripped black band shirt with The Used written across the chest, the tight black jeans and scuffed sneakers. He was thinking; freak. Harry pulled at his shirt edgily; he couldn't help feeling insecure.

"This is Harry Potter, he just came today, and he's from Melbourne," Hermione began. "And Harry, this is my friend Ron Weasley; he's in your art class."

"I'm not very good though," Ron said ruefully. "And our teacher is quite spacey. Nice to meet you, Harry." He stuck out is hand. "And this" – he pointed at his jersey –"is my footy team, and if you insult them near me, I'll deck you!"

"Ron, save it for Dean," Hermione said wearily. It was obvious that this was a discussion they had often.

"Well, I should be going to Maths; I'll see you two later. Have fun." Hermione turned and walked away.

"So, why'd you come here?" Ron asked, as they walked.

"It seemed like a good school," Harry said, deliberately misinterpreting his question.

"Yeah?" It was clear Ron didn't share this opinion.

"Yeah, I heard it was pretty good. You know, teachers and all that."

"I guess so." Ron shrugged. "So, are you any good at art?"

"I guess," Harry said. He pulled out his art diary again. "Here, have a look." Ron took the book.

"Wow. You're really good. Far out! Malfoy is going to be green." Ron chuckled ecstatically. Harry shook his head.

"What is it with everyone and this Malfoy guy?" Harry asked. Harry had to admit Malfoy intrigued him. He had a reputation of a bastard but was absolutely gorgeous. Harry could partly understand Malfoy's attitude; he could tell from the English class that he was extremely smart.

"I'm intelligent and good-looking. What else is there for people to talk about?" a silken voice interjected from behind Harry. Harry spun around.

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Really. Harry Potter, is it? I'm that Malfoy guy." He snorted. "Draco Malfoy." He held out a slim pale hand.

Harry grinned. "I see." He hesitated for a moment and then took it. Draco's skin was as smooth as it looked, and Harry tried not to fidget, as those grey eyes bore into his.

"So, can I see your stuff?" Draco asked, holding out a hand.

Ron looked at Harry who nodded and silently passed the book to Draco.

Draco flicked through the pages. "I guess you aren't as horrifically terrible as some." He glanced meaningfully at Ron who turned red and clenched his fists. Draco dismissed him and went back to looking at Harry's art book. "Well, at least you know Trelawney will love you." He sneered disdainfully, pushed Harry's book into his hands and shoved past him.

"He is such a prick!" Ron exploded.

Harry was disappointed. He'd hoped that art could be something they had in common and perhaps they could be friends. But now he couldn't see that happening. The guy really was a dickhead.

He sighed and followed Ron into the classroom.

"How was art?" Hermione asked, when Harry and Ron met up with her at recess.

"Harry is Trelawney's new love." Ron rolled his eyes and snorted. "She just adores him, she spent the whole lesson going through his book and comparing his work to Malfoy's."

"Mmm. He wasn't very happy about that. Actually, he wasn't at all how I expected him. He didn't even know me and he treated me like shit." Harry frowned.

"I told you that, Harry, that's just him."

"Yeah, I know. I guess I just didn't expect it. Most people wait till they know someone to treat them however they want." He ran his tongue bar over his teeth.

"Will you stop that rattling?" Hermione suddenly burst out. "What is it?"

"What? Oh, sorry, it's my tongue bar; I like to run it over my teeth." Harry poked out his tongue for her to see; it was silver with a black ball on each end.

"You'll wreck your teeth," she said in a motherly way.

Harry smiled a little and didn't bother answering.

"What do we have next?" Ron interrupted.

"Ron and I have History. What do you have, Harry?"

"I have History, too. Good."

"Oh, we're getting paired off for the assignment today, you're just in time. I hope Mr Flitwick will put us together," Ron said optimistically.

"Ron, you know he's one of those teachers who like to split up friendships to help people 'get to know' others. He'll probably put you with someone like Blaise or Pansy," Hermione reminded him.

Ron sighed. "I know, but I can still hope. We'll just have to wait and see."

"Yep, we sure will. Come on, let's go." They all got up and brushed the grass off their clothes and moved off towards the cluster of buildings.