A/N: Well hello, hello... How are you my loverly loverly fellow slash-readers... I'm writing this little AU Draco/Harry-

Draco: With the help of us, obviously...

Me: Yeah, so anyway it's probably gonna be longer than most of what I write-

Harry: Hey, why is everything that you write so short?

Me: It's because I like to get more reviews and people tend to not leave me reviews...:Sighs in sadness:

Harry: Aww... hey people review:Consoles me:

Draco: Give me attention!

Summery: Harry is new to a school where he makes some interesting friends and some even more intersting enemies. At the same time is is having to deal with discovering secrets about his family.

Disclaimer: The characters here do not belong to me. They are the property of JK Rowling and I'm simply borrowing them from her fpr the use of my non-profiting story.

Harry Potter slowly walked down the stairs of his house, his backpack slung over his shoulder and his shoes untied. Lazily, he slumped into a chair in his kitchen and turned to his godfather, "Sirius, don't make me go to school. Just let me skip the first day, wont you?"

"Oh, quit your whining. Just because you're scared of the students at your new school doesn't mean you can ditch going all together," the handsome man responded, taking an energy bar out of a box on top of the refridgerator.

"Please, I am NOT 'afraid' of the students at Northbridge. Psh... afraid..." Harry said, rolling his eyes and folding his arms in front of his chest.

"Fine, then get to school or I'll have to wake Remus up to drive you and he just got back last night. Now GO!"

Sirius couldn't drive and Remus, Sirius's 'best friend' (for there was obviously something more there), had been on one of his short business trips the day before and was often asleep until noon on the days that followed his returns.

"Okay, I'm going. Gosh, keen to get rid of me I suppose..." and he left through the front door to his new school for his senior year, his godfather laughing playfully behind him.

Harry James Potter was the son of the deceased Lily and James Potter. The family was well known for their money and position as well as their assassination. Harry had been the only Potter left alive when the man referred to as Voldemort had killed every living relative he had. At the time he had been less than two years old and since then he had lived in several foster families until he had finally been tracked down by his father's best friends when he was fifteen. However, because of Remus's work, they had recently moved from London to Canterbury.

Harry's life and history held many mysteries that even he was oblivious to. Sirius and Remus however, were very aware of his curiosity as well as the answers to all of his questions. They simply thought it best to keep the truth from Harry though he was not certain as to why.

As Harry approached the school on foot, he vaguely wondered if there was any reason to be frightened of the students at the school. He was certainly afriad of going to school, though it was beyond him that it might perchance have something to do with the other teenagers that he was yet to encounter. He figured that he should mainly fit in, like he had at his last school. He dressed casually enough: dark blue jeans, not at all baggy though a bit long to the point that he rolled them up once, a very fitting gray shirt, and he wore his old trusty pair of black chucks that he had purchased long before they became popular again. His jet black hair was expectedly untidy but it never seemed to ensue a problem before so it didn't bother him at all. No, the only thing that ever bothered him about his appearence were his glasses and his lightning bolt-shaped scar.

Upon entering the gates of the school he walked straight to the office to recieve the uniform that they had assured him he needed to buy on the first day of school. As he passed by students on the campus, he could tell that they knew he was new. After all, everyone else was in their uniforms, which Harry happened to notice fit each person differently, though initially intended to look the same. Some of the girls wore plaid skirts, others wore gray skirts, and still other were dressed gray pants. He could easily see from the guys that pants were a must, though a few wore shorts, which he could see were rather unattractive. Many of the girls wore their shirts a bit to high from the stomach or else unbuttoned their shirts to their vests to reveal an eyeful of chest from the V-necked collar. He would have liked to speculate longer (at the wardrobe, mind you) if it had not been for a distraction that seemed to signal that he was finally at the office.

"Honestly!" shrieked an unidentified woman in the office as a boy that looked Harry's age slid out of the office and into to the small hall that was ajoined to it, "This is one of the best rated schools in the country and it's students like yourself, Mr. Weasley, that put our school in jeapordy of loosing that position!"

The boy looked at Harry and smiled. "She di'in like m' pants very much," he whispered. He turned to the door and called in, "They're only pants, after all and they are school colors an' evr'ything!" And indeed, his pants were of the same plaid material as the girls' skirts, though they were tighter than regular pants. At closer inspection of the boy, Harry was not horrified to see them on him. He had shocking red hair that had been died an unnatural red in several places, upon his school jacket he had sewed patches that had band names on them and band and protest pins ran down his untucked shirts as opposed to buttons. Harry very much would have liked to say he looked more than a bit like Johnny Rotten.

"I'm Ron by the way, and I a'spect you managed to get my last name out of all that rubbage she was throwing at me," he held out his hand but then quickly withdrew it before Harry could take his out at all. "Harry! It's so good to see you here and in such good health!" he said.

Harry was more than a little confused and Ron could obviously tell.

"Ha, they were just talking about the new kid, Harry Potter, in the office. Figured it must be you. Oh gosh, it is isnt's it? I mean you are, right? That'd be funny if you weren't," he added with a laugh.

"Oh, yeah. Yes, I am."

"Well, Harry, hope ya don' mind me calling you 'Harry', Harry, but I hope you like Northbridge, though I doubt you will-"

"Mr. Weasley! Get to class before I give you another detention," a woman with graying auburn hair through tight lips poked her head through the doorway, "Mr. Potter, please don't mind him. Come in to the office; I expect you are looking to buy your uniform."

The older woman retreated back into the office and Ron smiled over at Harry. "That's professor McGonagall," said Ron, "She's not so bad, jus' a bit strict. Anyway, I bes' be off to class. See ya later, Harry!"

Harry didn't watch him walk down the hall but instead walked into the office. Professor McGonagall was at a desk marked 'Headmistress' and was evidentally looking for something. She looked up at Harry as he entered and she seemed to force the shadow of a smile to her lips. "I'm just looking for your timetable, Mr. Potter, ah... here it is, yes." She handed him the small paper. Harry took it from her and then bought three pairs of trousers, three white, long-sleeved button-down shirts and two short-sleeved ones, two gray V-necked sweaters, navy and red striped ties, and a navy school blazer that had the school crest on the right breast pocket.

After changing in the office lavatory into a pair of trousers, a long-sleeved shirt, and a tie, he returned to the desk that Professor McGonagall was sitting at. "Erm... Professor, could you tell me where my locker is at?"

"Where your locker IS." It was not a question and Harry was confused, "I'm an English teacher, Mr. Potter. There is not supposed to be an 'at' ending that sentence. It is locker 418, in the main building, here's the combination. The schedule today is 1-3-5-7. Have a nice day."

Harry stared at her for a second, then left to the main building. Upon entering it, he noticed that the halls were empty as everyone was in class and they were lined with beige lockers. Everything was beige: the floors, the walls, the doors, the drinking fountains. He walked up and down each hall looking for locker number 418. He had just found it and was stuffing all the clothes he had bought in it when he heard a gruff and elderly voice behind him. Harry quickly turned around to face an old and shrivled man with leathery skin and thin, greasy long hair. He appeared to be a custodian for he was wearing a navy one-peice suit and was carrying a broom. A tag on his shoulder said 'Filch'.

"Ay, why aren't you in class, you bloody hooligan?"

"Err... I'm new here, I was just putting my stuff in my locker..." Harry said softly.

"Was' your name, boy?"

"Harry Potter..."

The man eyed him suspiciously then walked away akwardly. Harry put his backpack in his locker but took out his binder and a pen. After closing his locker, he looked at his timetable and noted that he had French, History, Philosophy, and then Chemistry that day. Quickly, Harry walked to the room number that his timetable indicated and slowly opened the door to his French classroom.

The class looked at him as he walked in, as did the teacher.

"Bonjour! Accueillir au français, you must be Harry Potter. I'm Professor Flitwick." He was a very small man with white balding hair and a very big smile, "Please, have a seat. Anywhere is fine."

As he looked around the class for a place to sit, a pug-faced girl moved her purse onto the empty seat next to her, but in the back of the room a bushy-haired girl moved her purse off of the seat next to her. Harry made his way back to the empty seat and and sat down next to the girl. She had bucked-teeth and was dressed exactly to dress code standards with a gray skirt and even a tie. She smiled politely at him and then whispered, "I'm Hermione Granger, it's nice to meet you."

"Likewise, I'm Harry Potter."

"I know," she said kindly.

They didn't talk again until the end of the period when the bell rang. "My boyfriend, Ron, said he met you."

Harry thought for a second. 'She couldn't mean the Ron that I met this morning.' Harry realized he was being stereotypical in thinking that she didn't look his type (besides a number of animal mistreatment protest pins that were neatly lined under the school crest on her blazer), as there was only one Ron that he had met.

"Er, yeah I did. He was a nice guy."

"Oh, good, then he wasn't horrible to you?"

"No, not at all."

"Thank goodness. What class do you have next?"

"Erm..." Harry checked his timetable, "History with Binns"

"Me too, and so does Ron."

They walked to class together and she told them about how she had been new three years previously and how she knows just how he feels. She was a friendly girl, Harry concluded but as he saw Ron, he again thought it strange that the two were an item.

Professor Binns was so old that he looked as if he should have been dead, he was pale and wrinkly and looked like he was asleep while he drawled on about the past that he looked to have been part of. The class was as boring as hell and he would have fallen asleep had Hermione not been bickering next to him for Ron to take notes ("I'm not going to be able to help you during Finals!").

His next class was Philosophy with Professor Trelawny. Ron was taking that class as well and said that Hermione refused to because she couldn't understand it. Though, she said that she simply thought it was 'a load of rubbish'. The teacher was certainly one to give off that impression though. She was covered in jewelry and shawls and her eyes looked huge behind her big glasses. To say the least, the class was definately different than Harry expected.

Following the third block would usually be lunch, but as it was the first day of school, an assembly was being held in the auditorium. Harry would have liked to walk there and sit with his new friends but he first had to put his school things in his locker. He said that he woud meet them there and then headed in the direction of his locker. It was on his way there that a boy who looked to be his age bumped into him.

"Oh, er, sorry..." said the boy, who had a voice that was some-what arrogant. He had white-blonde hair and a pale pointed face. His clothes were much like Hermione's in the way that they seemed to be exactly to dress code: his shirt was tucked in and his tie was on straight, his pants were ironed and his shoes were polished. He looked as if he had walked out of a catalogue. Harry blushed. The boy was also very attractive.

"It's okay," Harry said quietly, looking at the floor.

"Hey, you're new here aren't you?" Asked the boy. Harry looked up into his silver eyes briefly.

"Yeah I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

The boy paused a moment, though Harry was unsure why. Then he responded, "I'm Draco Malfoy. You may have heard of me."

"Or perhaps not."

"W-well, it's been nice talking to you but I really have to put my things in my locker. Y'know, it's my first day and I shouldn't be late to the assembly." Harry was feeling very nervous.

"Oh, yeah... I'll see you around then."

"Yeah..." Harry whispered as the boy walked away.

Harry finally got to the auditorium and sat alone since he could find neither Ron nor Hermione. An old man with a long white beard and twinkling eyes took center stage behind a podium.

"Welcome to another year at Northbridge. To all students new to the school, I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster. Please feel free to drop by my office at any time, hopefully of your own accord," he smiled, "Now I have a few start of term announcements to make..." Harry tuned out and turned his attention to the rest of the students in the crowd, he couldn't find any of the few poeple he knew. From what Harry did listen to of the Headmaster's speech, it was just a bunch of obvious rules and regulations. However, he did catch Dumbledore say something like that he hoped the school year would be different than previous years and that old differences could be left behind.

As soon as the assembly ended, students began filing out of the gym to lunch. Harry stayed in his seat, hoping to see either Ron or Hermione walk by. After most everyone had left though, he finally decided to make his way to the lunch area. It was easy enough to find as he only had to follow the other students.

Tons of benches lay scattered along a large blacktop. They were not arranged in any particular way; in fact, they looked as if the students had moved them themselves. There were four clumps of benches. At the end of the blacktop were about ten benches, all close together, a few closer than others. Beside those benches, not too close, were only about five benches and many people were seated on the ground. Next to those, though a bit of a distance away, was a circle of about another ten benches and after those, on the other end of the blacktop were two benches and a grassy hill with a tree that started as soon as the blacktop ended.

Harry stood in the middle, wondering where he was supposed to sit. Luckily, he didn't have to chose for himself. He turned to look at the side of the blacktop that held the ten messy tables where he had heard his name. "Oi mate! Over here!" Ron's freckled face was smiling at him.

Harry quickly made his way over to the tables that Ron had called for him from. He was sitting with a large group of friends and more people were sitting around them. Silently, Harry sat down across from Ron and Hermione and next to a boy with a round face and brown hair. Many of the people around him looked much like Ron as far as their choice of wardrobe was concerned. Their shirts were untucked and many of them had pinned things to them or to their sweatshirts or blazers, some of them had patches on their skirts or pants and some had tightened their pants a great deal, and several of them had put tears in their clothes. They all looked very different from eachother in many ways. More than a few of them had their hair dyed a strange color. Though among them, some were dressed quite normal and others had a style all of their own. Harry noticed that Hermione was the only one that was dressed completely different from the others though. No one else looked quite as... proper.

"I'm Neville Longbottom," said the boy seated next to Harry. He was one of the more normal looking of the group with only a simple shirt and a pair of gray trousers.

Harry shook his hand, "Harry Potter."

Harry was also introduced to Ron's little sister, Ginny, who was wearing a plaid skirt and a pair of fishnet stockings, Dean Thomas, who looked like the artsy type with several different colored patches in his black hair and many colorful writbands, Seamus Finnigan, an irish boy with liberty spikes who seemed to like the band Flogging Molly a great deal, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, who were both poets and expressed it in the artistic way they wore their clothing, and Collin Creevey who was very quiet and very into Goth music such as the Sisters of Mercy. Harry was very suprised by the wide variety of clothing this group of people wore.

Ron pulled out a CD player and began listening to music while Hermione scolded him that he would get in trouble. He handed the CD player to Harry so that Harry could listen to them. They were called the Subhumans and he said that if Harry had heard of the Sex Pistols then they sounded a bit like that.

The song was called 'No' and Harry liked it quite a lot. He listened to some more of the CD before giving it back to Ron. Then he asked, "So tell be about these groups at your school..."

Ron was eager to explain. "Well it's like this: We're sorta the types that people don't wanna hang 'round. Dunno why but they seem t'think that we're a bit weird or somethin'. I guess we are though," he glanced at Lavender and Parvati, "but as you can see we're all very different. Then over there at that circle are all the smart asses. 'Cept Hermione, she's over here." Hermione gave him a shove and a glare, "Wha'? It's true, you're not over there! Anyway, their all smart and stuff and this lot, right here with most of them on the ground, are some of the stupid ones and some of the ok grade ones and just the weirdos, y'know? I dunno..."

He paused, "And those sons of bitches over there," Ron pointed to the other end of the blacktop to the hill where there was a large number of students sitting while a few were on the benches, "All those brown-nosed assholes are the stuck-up rich bastards who practically run this damn school. That's them, those neat and tidy ones with thier shirts tucked in and their hair combed back, they're the ones who are gonna get it even worse this year-"

"Ron, stop cursing so much and stop thinking up evil plans for those foul people," cut in Hermione.

Harry was still looking over at the students that Ron had spoken so terribly of.

"I hate them, the whole bloody school hates them, and they hate us all back. Unless you're rich, you're not good enough for them. Unless you wanna bow down and kiss their toes. Look at them, staring at us like we're dirt," for many of them were looking in thir direction, "I'm sick of it... and I'm not putting up with Malfoy's shit this year..."

"Malfoy?" Harry suddenly asked.

"Yeah... that one at the top of the hill trying to look like some king."

Harry's stomach dropped. It was him... the cute guy he had run into earlier. Draco Malfoy's gaze shifted and he was staring at Harry. Their eyes stayed focused upon eachother before Malfoy gave Harry a look that clearly stated, 'You've chosen your place and now you're trash.' Harry went back to talking with them about some bands and realized when the bell rang that he hadn't eaten a thing.

When lunch ended, Harry went to Chemisry, which he had with neither Ron nor Hermione but Neville was in his class. For some reaosn Neville kept biting his nails and seemed very nervous all the way to the Chemistry classroom, in the basement of the school.

As they made their way into the class, several people rudely pushed my them. Harry turned around to see who they were and found himself looking at several of the 'rich bastards' Ron had warned him about. Among them was Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy alone though, took time to deliver him a dirty look before sitting down at the front of the class. Harry and Neville took a seat in the back of the room and watched as more people entered, including Dean and Seamus. They sat down near them just before the final bell rang and the teacher swept into the class.

Professor Snape was a creepy looking man. He had black greasy hair and dressed in only black so his pale face contrasted greatly with the rest of him. As the class began, Harry realized he was going to be in for a tough year.

As soon as Snape began talking Harry knew why Neville had been frightened. He was a mean man who seemed to favor the students seated at the front. And he seemed to hate Harry. On the very first day he

chose Harry out of the whole rest of the class to answer a couple question that he would obviously not know as he hadn't yet taken the class. He embarassed Harry in front of everyone when he couldn't answer any of them correctly. The last thing he said, before the class was desmissed was, "You'll find that you will have to work a lot harder at Northbridge than I'm sure you are used to, Mr. Potter."

After school Harry went straight home and was in such a bad mood that he snapped at Sirius when he got in the house.

"How was the first day?" He had asked.

"Wonderful! If you think that making friends with a bunch of weirdos, getting on a teacher's bad side, and for some reason beyond me, becoming an enemy to the only good-looking person in the whole bloody school is a good 'ol time, then it was splended!" And he stormed off to his room.

A/N: I hope you liked it! I'll update as soon as I can, though there is no way it will be even near this long. Just to clear some stuff up (people usually have to do that with AU's), Hagrid will most likely not appear in this story because he bugs me, I'm sorry if I spelled that French stuff wrong but I dont know the language, I used a translator, and I'm putting Cho Chang in Harry's year because I want to. Also, you may have noticed that I used an American school system. I dont know why, it was just easier but the school is still grades 1-7 (Hogwarts style) aka 6-12 (in America).

Draco: Ramble much?

Me: Oh, shut up...

Harry: Oh, I hope they review... I think I'll be even more sad and depressed if they don't...

Draco: Well I hope that that they do too but I wont cry or anything... Malfoy's never cry.

Harry: Leave a review if you want to see Draco and me make out!