A/N: For the sake of self-awareness, there's an example in this chapter about how exceptions are made to the 'rules' that bigots follow in their prejudice systems.

Chapter 6: Flight of Fancy

After another long corridor at the bottom of the stairs, they were going down again. Vincent and Gregory were slightly out of breath by the time Snape brought them to a stop in front of a bare stone wall.

"The password is ambitio omnibus," Snape told them.

When he said it, the wall slid open. A sudden din sounded from inside. With an impelling wave of his hand toward the common room, Snape turned with a flourish of his robes and headed back down the corridor.

Draco, Vincent, and Gregory stepped inside. North of fifty people lounged around the room. The lights were dim, nearly intimate, the way Father would have them during smaller dinner parties.

The majority of students were concentrated around a large fireplace at the other end. A girl with long, dark hair stood with her back to it. Draco couldn't see her face, but he recognized her voice.

"You want to see how it goes, then?" she asked everyone sitting around her. "I can walk anyone through that wants to learn. Ellie and Hazel, come here."

At mention of the Selwyn twins, Draco realized the girl talking was Martina. Her fellow seventh-years occupied what looked like the best seats in the common room. Since Ellie and Hazel rose, giggling, from one of the nearby sofas, Draco didn't feel so shy about migrating closer to see what they were all doing.

Martina pulled out her wand and transfigured a few fire-pokers into suitable stand-ins for swords. Ellie and Hazel tied their hair back before going through the basic moves used by the dancers at the show Draco had gone to a few weeks ago. The twins spun in tight tandem, ending each with a clack of swords between them. They slowed down when Martina told them to, so that everyone could see the footwork.

"Who wants to give it a whirl?" Martina asked the crowd.

Her gaze passed over Draco, making his insides flush with panic that he might get called upon. Martina's gaze lit up when she looked over to the side.

"Aw, ickle firsties!" she exclaimed, making everyone laugh. "Come here! Come, come."

Draco burst into laughter when Martina beckoned Theodore and Blaise over to her with a curled index finger. He was drowned out by everyone else whooping and clapping. Vincent and Gregory mirrored how Draco leaned over the back of a sofa, their grins similarly wide.

"Make us proud, Nott!" Draco called. "Go on!"

Theodore put a couple fingers up toward Draco, laughing. "Shut it Malfoy, or you'll end up next."

Martina put her arms around Theodore and Blaise's shoulders. "All right, I already have the pleasure of knowing Theodore. Blaise, was it, love?"

Although Blaise was uncertain, given how stiffly he nodded, Martina's warm gaze seemed to relax him. She paid no mind to anyone else while walking them patiently through the footwork. Once Martina was confident in Theodore and Blaise, the twins handed their makeshift swords over. Martina had them start off slowly. Once things started looking like second nature and the two of them grew more confident, Martina sped up her count.

More whooping followed when Theodore and Blaise were instructed to stop. Martina pat them both on the backs, beaming, and then her friend Julia Montague got up.

"All right, we should let the little ones run off to bed," she said. A prefect badge glinted on the front of her robes. "All of you, third-year and below, off you go now!"

A groan rippled through the crowd as the smallest bodies peeled themselves away. Draco fell into step with Theodore and Blaise, mostly because he didn't know where their dorm was.

"Nice moves," he told them with a smirk.

"Don't be jealous." Theodore shoved Draco away before their shoulders could bump again.

"Going to show me how that went, then?"

"Nah." Theodore yawned. "I'm tired."

Him saying that seemed to make Draco realize how heavy his eyes were. He rubbed them.

"So you had your finger looked at?" Blaise asked Gregory.

"Oh—yeah," Gregory said. "It'll be fine."

Theodore pointed them into one of the doors down the corridor they'd been walking along. The first thing Draco noticed was the far wall. It was made completely of windows. On the other side, murky and black, was the lake.

"Cool," Vincent spoke aloud what Draco was thinking.

"Yeah, until someone swims by or something," Theodore replied, heading for one of the four-poster beds. "Blaise and I saw a fish earlier."

Draco kept an eye out for one while seeking out his trunk. The bed furthest from their bathroom had been picked for him. He suddenly had hardly enough energy to remove his robes.

"Oh," he said as the other boys similarly changed into their pyjamas. "Zabini, Nott—remind me tomorrow to tell you what all Snape said to us about Potter, yeah?"

Considering their first day of classes fell on a Monday, Draco was happy to get a good night's rest. He was briefly disoriented when he woke up, since he'd been at home in the dream he was having. Draco very quietly missed his parents as he and the other boys retraced their steps back to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Snape walked up and down the Slytherin table, handing out timetables. Draco had Astronomy first with the Ravenclaws up on the third floor, which didn't leave much time to eat since he had to run back to the dorm for the book he'd need. He grabbed everything for Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts as well, to carry him through to lunch.

Astronomy was an interesting start, although it was already stuff Draco had learned. He shepherded afterward with the other Slytherin first-years to their Transfiguration class. The Hufflepuffs met them there, bidding tentative greetings in the corridor until Professor McGonagall let them into the classroom. Draco kept his hands in view of Professor McGonagall at all times, made sure his notes were tidy, and paid attention. Draco simmered in warm pride when he earned a point for Slytherin by answering a question correctly.

Professor Quirrell was McGonagall's exact opposite. Draco had no qualms doodling on his parchment, or passing notes with Vincent and Gregory. Theodore and Blaise ignored his attempts to engage them, seated in the row ahead.

"Three classes," Gregory grunted when they were released for lunch, "and three piles of homework."

"It shouldn't take too long," Draco replied. "I'm pretty sure I saw all the answers when I flipped through the books over summer. Let's just get it over with after lunch."

Neither Gregory or Vincent said anything, although were clearly the exact opposite of thrilled. Draco felt similarly unmotivated at the moment, due to his growling stomach. He usually had a lot more breaks when Mum ran him through lessons at home, and she'd never thrown so much at him at once. Draco reckoned it was more his brain than his body that demanded fuel.

". . .Harry Potter. . ."

Draco's ears sharpened. Mingled annoyance and intrigue washed down through his insides. The culprits discussing Potter were a couple Hufflepuff girls, who looked over one of their timetables.

"Ooooh, we have Charms with the Gryffindors again first thing tomorrow," the girl with a long plait told the other. "We should try for a seat behind him. Maybe we can get a better look."

Draco rolled his eyes, which was good practice for the rest of his day. One overheard mention of Potter seemed to open up the floodgates. Even at the Slytherin table, Draco caught whispers of his name. The girls in their year all had their heads together. Sophie the Muggle-born was unfamiliar with what made Potter famous in the first place, so the others filled her in. Watching her expression go from intrigued to intrigued was very annoying.

People speaking Potter's name in Draco's vicinity seemed to summon the git. Draco kept catching glimpses of that messy hair and those stupid glasses. Potter passed the Slytherin table twice, first on his way to the Gryffindor table with Weasley for lunch, and then when they left again. The two of them walked noisily past the window alcove Draco, Vincent, and Gregory settled into to do their homework. Potter and Weasley were outside when the three of them took a walk around the grounds to stretch their legs and explore. The way Draco sat at dinner, he could clearly see Potter on the opposite side of the Great Hall.

By the time he retreated to the Slytherin common room after dessert, Draco was in a mood about it all. Was this what seven years of Hogwarts was going to be like? Constant awareness of where Harry Potter was, and whenever he breathed? Draco gave it to the end of the week for a fan club to spring up.

Theodore and Blaise had beat Draco to the common room. They sat off to the side playing chess. Draco dropped with a sigh into an empty chair beside them.

"All right?" Theodore asked with a side-long glance.

Draco shrugged.

A slow smirk came up on Theodore. "Done following Potter around for the day, then?"

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, don't be like that," Theodore said. "We saw you."

Draco looked at Blaise, trying to gauge just how severely Theodore took the piss. Blaise glanced over, but Draco didn't see much for amusement there.

"I wasn't following him," Draco coolly replied. "I didn't mean for him to turn up wherever I was. I didn't want him to."

"Okay."

Theodore's flippant tone irked Draco. "I didn't."

"I said okay."

That, Blaise did laugh at. It was just a quiet snort under his breath, but enough for Draco to narrow his eyes at.

"Whatever," Draco tersely said.

"It's all right to fancy him, you know," Theodore replied, making Blaise dip his head with a grin. "Nobody would blame you. I mean, you and every girl in this school. . ."

"Fancy him?" Draco couldn't help but yell. Between that and shooting to his feet, some nearby students looked over in interest. Draco lowered his voice and glared at Theodore. "Get off it, Nott. That's absolutely ridiculous. You're probably only saying that because you fancy him, and you're embarrassed. And you should be! A prat like that, and a Gryffindor, no less. Please, get over yourself."

"Right after you, Pink Cheeks."

Draco indeed felt hot in the face. Of course his cheeks were flushed. He was angry! And Theodore was a bloody prat.

"Whatever," Draco said again. He showed Theodore a couple fingers before storming off for the dormitory. Behind him, Theodore said something too quietly for Draco to hear, and then he and Blaise cracked up.

Draco flopped down onto his bed, gazing moodily out into the lake. During daytime hours, light permeated the surface. It tinged the dorm green and made white lines dance about on the walls. Against Draco's better wishes, he started to calm down.

Footsteps entered the dorm. Draco looked over, ready to cast another glowering look, but it was only Vincent and Gregory.

"Nott said you were in here," Vincent said.

"He said you're sulking?" Gregory sat down on his bed beside Draco's. "Something about fancying Potter?"

"I do not—" Draco said in the most dangerous tone he could muster, "—fancy Potter. Nott said I was following him around all afternoon, and that's why he was absolutely everywhere."

Vincent frowned. "No we weren't."

"Thank you."

"I mean. . ." Vincent looked over at Gregory. "We weren't."

Stomach hot anew with anger, Draco ground his bottom lip between his teeth. "Get out."

"It's our dorm too—"

In that case, Draco leapt up and flung his curtains shut. Safely alone in his space, he cocooned himself in his blanket. Vincent and Gregory tried a couple times to talk to him, but Draco ignored them until they finally left.

History of Magic the next morning was rough, given they'd had to stay up late for their weekly go on the Astronomy tower. They had Defence again, and then Charms was a fun segue into lunch. Their afternoon wasn't free on Tuesdays; they would spend the first hour after lunch with Professor Sprout and the Hufflepuffs out in the greenhouses through to Thursday.

Draco calmed down from his irritation with Theodore, although didn't forget it. He ignored Theodore in class, and tried to ignore Potter even more in the cracks between.

By Friday morning, Draco felt he'd gotten into the swing of things. Professor McGonagall gave out a lot of homework, but Draco liked the class so far. Quirrell was widely panned as a joke. Although Draco missed his parents, especially in the gaps of time before sleep and after waking, he enjoyed the freedom that came with being on his own at Hogwarts.

The post arrived while Draco sat breakfast with Crabbe and Goyle. One of the owls that swooped toward the Slytherin table was an eagle owl Draco recognized as Juno. She landed in front of him with a package. There was also a small note tied to her leg.

Juno hopped onto Draco's shoulder after being relieved of the lot. She jostled him while working down the piece of sausage he gave her. He unrolled the note, written in his mum's hand:

Good morning darling,

I hope your first week's gone well. I like to think your father and I would have heard if you were having any troubles. I wanted to give you some space to settle in, but I also couldn't resist. There are sweets inside the box. Make sure to share them with your friends.

Your father wanted me to pass along that he'll be at Hogwarts this afternoon for a governors' meeting. They meet in room 7F, and are usually done by 3:00 if you wanted to see him.

All my love,
Mum

Draco stashed the note inside his cloak. He used his table knife to open the sweets, then grinned at the Bertie Bott's, Cockroach Clusters, and assorted sours inside. Crabbe and Goyle were looking too.

"Here." Draco tossed them each a couple Clusters.

"Nice," Goyle replied, stashing his for now. "From your mum?"

"Yep. My father's apparently going to be here this afternoon as well. He wants to see me."

"Not in trouble, are you?" Crabbe asked.

"Nah."

The three of them cleared off early from breakfast, headed for History of Magic. After that dreadfully dull hour of listening to Binns drone on, they headed for the dungeons. They only had Potions once a week, which was to be taken with the Gryffindors. Although Draco hadn't minded classes with the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, he was a little tentative about this. For one, Potter would be there, and Draco had no reason to believe Theodore's stupid teasing would stop under Snape's hooked nose.

Draco dipped into his sweets along the way to class. Crabbe and Goyle held off on their Clusters, although took whatever else Draco offered. He wanted to keep most of the sours to himself for the weekend, so they ended up having a laugh over the Bertie Bott's Beans instead. Crabbe was just pulling a face from eating a mustard-flavoured one when Theodore and Blaise showed up.

"Oi, what's that?" Theodore asked.

"Bertie Botts." Draco held the box out to him and Blaise. "Take one, see what you get."

Theodore picked a promising blue one, which turned out to be something bitter he didn't recognize. He pulled a face. Blaise's pink one was tuna. The five of them kept on as other students arrived in the corridor. Draco bristled preemptively when Theodore noticed Potter and Weasley. He'd already seen them arrive out the corner of his vision, but refused to properly look their way with Theodore so near.

It didn't stop Theodore's smirk from emerging. "Not going to offer Potter one?"

"Why would I?" Draco coolly asked. "Mum said they were for my friends. Keep on, and you won't be getting anymore either."

"Right, yes, I suppose Potter's not really your friend, is he—?"

Whatever else Theodore wanted to say, he was cut off by Snape's arrival. Maybe, if Draco didn't have to stash his sweets away, he could've taken that half second to flick Theodore on the nose.

"Everyone inside," Snape said, which was enough for a rustle of cloaks and bags to follow him through the now-unlocked door. Draco set up quickly, well aware that the approach he'd learned with Professor McGonagall would benefit him here.

His first taste of how it would go came during register, after Snape marked down Sally-Anne Perks. He hesitated then.

"Ah, yes." Snape's dark gaze landed on the back of the classroom. "Harry Potter. Our new. . .celebrity."

Draco had his glee back under control by the time Snape properly started class, but it returned when Potter couldn't answer any of the questions Snape threw at him. Paired with the bushy-haired know-it-all trying desperately to be called on, Draco's eyes leaked from the force of trying not to make a peep. He couldn't even say if he personally knew the answers. Draco laughed into his hand too hard to hear them. Every time he looked over at Potter, his expression caught somewhere between baffled and panicked, it would boil back over.

Draco's mood was in a good enough place when the lesson began that he was able to ignore whatever little remarks Theodore made. He had no idea what a himbo was, so had nothing to say about that being his 'type'. He definitely felt proud to be held up as an example by Snape for how he'd stewed his horned slugs. Draco gloated over it by holding Theodore's gaze while Snape spoke. Theodore just rolled his eyes.

Watching the Gryffindor half of the classroom fall apart for the rest of the lesson was the cherry on top. Draco didn't even feel upset about the amount of homework Snape sent them off with. He seemed to like setting as much as McGonagall, but three times the amount to make up for their smaller number of lessons per week.

Draco didn't feel like doing it right away, given the weekend came early for first-years. Freedom felt like a soaring in his chest at lunch time. Residual excitement about seeing his father later only fuelled his mood. He stayed quiet about it all afternoon before excusing himself from the game of five-way Exploding Snap he and the other boys played.

The trek up to the seventh floor from the common room was long. 7F shared a corridor with a couple gargoyle statues. The door was still closed, so Draco took up instead in an alcove. He could see toward the Forbidden Forest out the window. There were a few students heading toward it—no, toward the hut on the edge. Draco scowled and looked away to realize that it was Potter and Weasley.

His gaze returned in time to see them disappear inside Hagrid's hut. Draco idly watched for any sign of them again, then remembered the reason he'd come up here in the first place when the door to 7F opened.

Chatting people filed out and headed in the opposite direction. Draco let them get on before making his way toward the room. He slowed when he heard two voices still coming from inside. One was his father. The other was Dumbledore.

". . .yes, thank you, Lucius," Dumbledore was saying. "I will take it into consideration, as well as all the other points we discussed today."

"I will have no choice but to push the matter, should one student become endangered," Father replied.

"The students have been warned—and gravely so—not to venture into the corridor. Filch has assured me he's keeping a keen eye on all entrances."

"Ah, yes." Father's tone further cooled. "Surely he and that cat of his will be sufficient against four-hundred meddlesome teenagers."

Dumbledore chuckled, but it wasn't a merry sound. "The governors trust me."

"Most of the governors. It is rather unorthodox for you to keep secrets from us, Dumbledore."

"I'm pleased the majority doesn't mind, as this really isn't a concern of theirs. Or of yours."

"For now." It sounded like Father rustled some parchment. "We'll remain in touch regarding the issue. For now, I have other—well, Draco should be along shortly enough, if he was keen on a visit."

"Of course." Dumbledore's tone softened then. "I won't keep you from your son."

Draco ducked out of sight, hoping that Dumbledore wouldn't pass him by when he exited the room. Dumbledore followed the same path as everyone else that had already departed. Draco waited until Dumbledore's footsteps faded away before heading for the room.

His father sat at the head of the table inside. Several folders surrounded him, one of which he flipped through the contents of. He wore his glasses. Father glanced up overtop of them at the sound of Draco's shoe scuffing the floor. His eyebrows rose, then he softened into a smile.

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd actually come by." Father removed his glasses. "I'm sure your first week was very busy."

Draco shrugged. "I have homework from this morning, but I've been keeping up on it."

"Good."

"Professor McGonagall gives a lot," Draco said, "but she likes me. She gave me some points in class for answering things correctly. And I already turned a match into a needle."

Draco kept on filling his father in on how his week had gone, revelling in the pride he received in return. His father ended up leaned back in his chair, legs crossed and his jaw braced on his fingers. Draco went from a heavy lean on the tabletop to pulling up the closest chair.

"How's Mum?" Draco asked when he'd said all there was about his lessons. "Can you thank her for the sweets this morning? I didn't have time to write a note before first lesson."

"I'll tell her." Father reached over to remove a piece of fuzz from the shoulder of Draco's jumper. "She's doing just fine, other than missing you horribly. She heard from Rose Parkinson at tea yesterday that it wasn't just you seven we expected sorted into Slytherin."

"Yes, there are a few other ones. A boy and two girls," Draco said. "The boy, Blaise—he reckons you might know his stepfather. He's the Italian ambassador."

"Ah, Gianmarco."

"I think so."

"Your mother might be interested in making acquaintance with Blaise's mother, then," Father mused. "I heard Harry Potter was sorted to Gryffindor."

Draco tried but failed to suppress a scoff. A roll of the eyes accompanied it. "Yes. He's sort of stupid. You should have seen him in Potions earlier. He even cheeked Professor Snape."

"Brave," Father commented.

Draco laughed, then tapered off as something else came to mind about all the Sorting business. He toyed with his bottom lip, nervous all of a sudden. "One of the Slytherin girls in my year is Muggle-born."

"Oh?"

"Mhm."

Draco wasn't sure what else to say about it. He wanted more to know his father's opinion, since he wasn't entirely sure how to formulate his own on the matter. It didn't help that his father remained impassive with this information.

"What's she like?" Father asked.

"I haven't really talked to her," Draco replied. "We don't hang out, or anything. She's in with Daphne all right, and the other new Slytherin girl in our year. She's from London, she said, and her family's wealthy. They own a lot of buildings. Comm-something or the sort."

"Commercial?"

"Yes." Draco lit up. "That one."

Father hummed. "She's probably from the same sort of Muggle family our forefathers dealt with prior to the Statute of Secrecy going into place."

Draco hadn't thought about that. He relaxed, his uncertainty going along with it. "I didn't think the Hat put Muggle-borns in Slytherin."

"It happens." Father shrugged. "I think the Hat is capable of seeing which Muggle-borns will actually succeed in Slytherin house. They tend toward the types that, coming into the wizarding world, understand there's a certain order of things."

"She asks a lot of questions," Draco said. "I've heard Daphne and Tracey telling her about how things for our kind work. She just says okay."

"It sounds to me like she accepts her place as a newcomer. She'll need to earn anything beyond that. If the Hat called Slytherin for her, that means it saw the ambition to do so."

"Yeah," Draco replied, although he didn't really understand everything his father said. It all sounded very political. That was for grown-ups, boring as it was. The most important thing to take from it all, he thought, was that it was acceptable to consider Sophie decent. Draco probably wouldn't hang out with her—girl, and all—but he didn't have to worry that he was doing something wrong if they did get on all right.