Just the way Harry had imagined Lucius Malfoy would always be as a youth. He stopped as there was a knock on the door to their dorms and it opened. There was Blaise Zambini, who's father was standing in the picture with Draco's.

"What the hell are you doing in here Slytherin?" Ron jumped up and glared hard at the brown-haired boy.

"Cool it Weasel, I'm here for Potter. Snape says you have to take up a Potions tutor, he's offered to let you come down tonight and get help in the Potions room when he give Slytherin House study help. If you want to," Blaise lent against the door frame.

"How'd you get in here?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"I have connections, Snape sent me personally because I was around, and he didn't really want word getting out that you were allowed in the presence of our precious Slytherin minds," Zabini sounded slightly sarcastic at the last part.

"I'd actually like to come, thanks Zabini," Harry nodded after a moment, he really did need help. "Who would my tutor be?"

"The best Potions student in our Year of course," Blaise answered as if it was common knowledge, then seeing their looks added "Draco Malfoy."

Harry felt his stomach tighten. The son of the only other man his mother had ever been with. What an awkward thing. And sickening to an extent.

"Be there at a quarter to eight," Zambini left waving at them over his shoulder, they heard him leave before they turned to each other.

"How weird is that? Malfoy could have been your brother, or you," Ron said, glancing down at the picture in the Memory Book of Lucius and Lily.

"My mum would never have…" Harry allowed the comment to drift into open air.

"Yeah, never," Ron agreed. /The same way Hermione would never let herself get pregnant. The same way Harry would never let Voldemort claim another life after Cedric's. They all say it would never happen, but it always did./ Ron thought, keeping his eyes on the page in front of him. Unbeknownst to him, Harry was thinking rather the same thing.

That night, Harry trudged down to the Potions room to find it crowded with students carrying reference books and bags of parchment, quills and ink. Ready to write essays and fill in tables for Arithmacy and what-not. Harry spotted Malfoy standing in the back of the room, with several other Sixth Years surrounding him.

"Oi, Potter, over here," Malfoy raised a hand to motion him over. It was a languid motion most would take for granted, but Malfoy made it seem like the divining movement to save the lives of a hundred innocents. Harry glowered /Dramatic little poof/

"Evening Potter, I heard you needed help from Snape, so I was volunteered to tutor you. I take it you haven't taken proper notes in class since before First Year?" Malfoy asked, placing a hand on the desk in front of him and turning away from Harry.

"I don't think so," Harry shook his head.

"So before we even start making anything, we need to catch you up on the whole theory and history of potions. Come on, we're going to the Common Room, it'll be quieter and there are much better books on the subject," Malfoy reached down and picked up his dragon-hide book-bag.

"Better than the potions classroom?"

"The texts here are for the weak minded, and don't go into enough detail, it's all over simplified for the Hufflepuffs," Malfoy said, he began to walk towards the door of the class room and Harry followed him. They reached an empty patch of wall and Malfoy stopped.

"Alliances," Malfoy spoke clearly and the wall slid open to reveal the Common Room the same as it was in Second Year. There was a large wooden table on which Malfoy placed his bag, he then walked over and began pulling books off a shelf.

"Hey Malfoy?" Harry began to fidget.

"What Potter?"

"Do, do you think it would have been possible, for, for us to be brothers?"

Malfoy paused for a moment, and his brow furrowed in thought. "I don't think so."

"But, what if, what if your dad went with my mum and they…" Harry paused.

"Well, that's possible, but I doubt your mother would have really kept to great an interest in my father. Besides, he was betrothed to my mum since she was born," Malfoy answered setting down the books. "Why do you ask?" Harry seated himself in a chair and dropped his bag onto the floor.

"I, I found out my mum and your dad dated for a bit when they were in school together," Harry said.

Malfoy shrugged. "My father dated a lot of people, the way your mum did and your father as well," Malfoy said, he sat on the table with his legs hanging over.

"No, my mum only ever went with your father, and mine," Harry shook his head slowly.

"Now I see why you're so worked up over it, you're questioning your mum's judgment aren't you? Wondering if she really made the right choice with your father, if she dated Lucius, she has to have been looking for that type of person and is that what your father really was," Malfoy nodded.

"Yeah, that's right."

"Look, I know for a fact that my father was an ass, beyond a shadow of a doubt, when he was in school here, he was the biggest loud-mouth, show-off, womanizing bachelor in Britain. My bet is that your mother was just enthralled by his power, money and looks, that's all he is and was. She never really liked him, that's what I bet, she was just caught up in the fan-fair that followed him around. Young muggle-born girl, wanted to be part of the glamorous side of the Wizarding world. That's all, then she realized he was an ass and met your father and found out what a real relationship is," Malfoy said.

"So, why does your mum stay with him?"

"She has to, same reason I stay. It will bring shame to our family if a we are broken apart. Narcissa will be shown as an improper wife, my father as an improper husband and I will be the no good brat who was raised by bad parents. My upbringing will be tarnished, that's almost as bad as being a muggle-born," Malfoy slid off the table and stood.

"I don't get it."

"For the upper-class, if you weren't raised properly, you aren't a proper person. Being raised by bad parents is one of those things that puts you on the badly raised list. If I'm labeled as that sort of person, the only work I'll be able to do is modeling, I won't be taken seriously by the Wizarding world, nor will my children or grandchildren. They will be badly raised, as they were raised by me, do you see the cycle? It's how pureblood families loose status. That's the reason divorce is such a scandal in our culture. It reflects badly on the entire family."

Harry nodded. He turned to see the common room door open and Blaise walked in trailed by a Seventh Year with a lusty look about him. Blaise pulled him onto the couch and they began kissing passionately and groaning. Malfoy rolled his silver eyes and clapped his hands once which jerked Zabini's attention from the boy atop him.

"What do you want you virgin?" Blaise asked as the Seventh Year began sucking on his neck.

"Use your bed Blaise, there's a person with morals in the room," Malfoy indicated to Harry. Blaise looked at him and glowered before standing and pulling his snog away with him.

"You're a virgin?" Harry asked with shock.

"Aye, not all sex-gods are whores," Malfoy nodded.

"Sorry, I just thought, since you…" Harry trailed off into silence.

"Everyone thinks so. That I sleep around and know the best broom closets and secret tunnels into girl's dormitories. All of which I do know, but for very different reasons. Sneaking about at 3 AM is more difficult than you think, that is, for those of us without an invisibility cloak and the Marauder's map," Malfoy smirked.

"How do you know about that?" Harry sat stunned.

"If I can sneak into girl's dormitories, don't you think I can sneak into yours?"

"What? How? The map never showed a passage."

"Your map is the Gryffindor map. It shows nothing compared to mine," Malfoy tapped his temple with his index finger.

"I don't get it, how do you know about them?"

"Well, some we created, some we stumbled upon while outsmarting Filch. Some we don't really know if they exist, but overall, they're there when we need them."

Harry gave a small nod. He twirled his quill in his hand and turned slightly to see a small first year walk in carrying a large stack of books. He was very small with black hair and small brown eyes and easily forgettable features. His arms were short and looked even more so stretched around the books he bore.

"Picher, what are you doing?" Malfoy asked, his brow furrowed slightly.

"Professor Snape told me to carry these books in and put them in order, it's part of my detention," he answered in a squeaky voice.

"So, why did you get detention?"

"I-I'd rather not say Mr. Malfoy," the boy looked dead scared.

"Say it," Malfoy insisted.

"I called you a tyrannical prefect bent on making the lower-years lives hell and I said you fancied Hagrid," the boy answered very quickly.

"I see. Have you learnt your lesson?"

"Yes sir, don't insult your betters and respect the authorities of your house," he nodded.

"Complete your task later, tell Snape I sent you back and you'll do it tomorrow during lunch," Malfoy waved him off. The boy rushed away, nearly tripping over his robes.

"Someone gets detention for just insulting you?"

"Pride is looked down upon around here. That kid comes from a fairly well-known family, but not so that he's respected. He knows it and so he acts as if he's one of the upper-class. It's a bad sign, especially if it's a first year," Malfoy shrugged.

"Oh, so, how do purebloods determine class?"

"Well, families like mine are extreme upper class, having been pureblood since before that Jesus character. There are also mildly upper class families like the Parkinsons, Goyle's, Crabbe's, Avery's, those sorts, they've been around for awhile but never really distinguished themselves. There are then middle class, like the Pitchers, the Bulsestrodes, the Potter family was a middle class family until your mum married in. Those are families that haven't been around as long and have only sort of made themselves known. Then there's the lower class, Weasley, Longbottom, Patil. They're not necessarily poor, but they've done things to make the upper and middle classes look down on them more forcefully than normal," Malfoy said.

"What did Ron's family do, beside be poor?"

"It was about 120some years ago. The Weasleys used to be rather well liked until they started trying to abolish the class standings and open hostility towards the lower class. It was an outrage that cost them their money, dignity and their place in society," Malfoy answered.

"Do you know why they wanted it abolished?"

"The young male Weasley, Dale I believe his name was, wanted to marry a lower class semi-blood but the family didn't want her bringing down their status."

"Semi-blood?"

"Not half-blood not quite pure-blood, usually six or seven generations of pure wizardry but not quite enough," Malfoy said, beginning to clean under his nails.

"Oh, so, they tried to abolish the classes instead?"

"Yes, they did, it went horribly wrong and they ended up in the depths of the lower-class," Malfoy answered.

Harry gave a slow nod, wondering how that could happen so easily. "Are you like, the Prince of Slytherin like everyone says or are you just popular?"

"Both I suppose, Prince of Slytherin by popularity and power, plus, Snape thinks I'm just the most innocent and amazing young man in the world."

"But then why are you such a prick to Gryffindors? Why does it matter?"

Malfoy turned to him, quirked an eyebrow and rolled his eyes. "You really do ask a lot of questions don't you?"

"Sorry," Harry blushed and turned to his blank parchment.

"Don't worry about it. Well then, it's nearly ten and the rest of the house will be coming back soon. Since we didn't get anything done to today, you may as well come back tomorrow and we'll see about catching you up," Malfoy said, looking at the grandfather clock in the corner.

Harry looked over at it, indeed, there were only about 10 minutes with which to get back to Gryffindor tower. The hero stood and put his many things back into his bag, the snake only watched him casually.

/If every school day is like today, it's going to be hell./

So ended Harry Potter's first day of his sixth year at Hogwarts School.