January 1992

Harry could scarcely believe that his Yule break was over and he was returning to Hogwarts once more. He sat on his bed, staring at the half-filled trunk before him, wishing he could stay a little longer. He jumped off his bed in shock when a soft 'crack' filled his room and Mipsy appeared with a bundle of something nearly as big as she was tall.

"Hi Mipsy," he said, after his heart rate had settled down somewhat and he was certain it wasn't an intruder that had just Apparated into his room.

"Little Master be needing food for the train! Mipsy made Little Master food!" she said excitedly, thrusting the paper bag of what Harry thought might very well be a full feast in front of him.

"Thank you Mipsy," he said, grateful that Marvolo's elf cared so much for him. He wasn't certain when exactly Mipsy had started calling him 'Little Master', but he did know that she got incredibly upset once when Harry insisted she call him 'Harry'. He thought it might have been when he had wandered into the kitchen for a quick snack and Mipsy ended up making him the best sandwich he had ever tasted. Of course, when he told the house-elf such, she promptly burst into tears while hugging Harry's leg, and made even more sandwiches for him.

Marvolo had been rather amused when Harry sheepishly explained why he had a platter of sandwiches so full it could feed a sizable party.

Harry accepted the hamper of food, wondering how in the world he could finish all of that, when his door opened. He looked up in surprise and found Marvolo with his arms crossed, leaning against the door frame.

"Good morning," he greeted, brightening immediately. Marvolo nodded in response, before he uncrossed his arms and walked over to where Harry stood with his house-elf.

"I see Mipsy has made you yet another finger-food feast," he commented, tilting his head to inspect the paper bag filled with food. "Lucky for you, I found out and told her to make items that will last beyond a day," he said, taking out a paper box from within the bag.

"Have you tried her biscuits?" he asked, opening the box to take out a piece and holding the opened box for Harry's perusal, Harry picked one out as well. Marvolo somehow managed to make eating a biscuit an artform while Harry put the whole thing in his mouth to avoid getting crumbs on the floor. It truly was delicious.

"Wonderful, as always," Marvolo said, and Mipsy smiled so widely, it almost looked painful. She bowed low, thanking her master in a wobbly voice. Harry saw tears of joy glistening in her eyes as she snapped her fingers and popped away. Marvolo looked at the spot where his elf once stood with a faint smile. Harry wondered briefly if all house-elves were that teary when treated with decency.

"Mipsy will accompany you to the platform later," Marvolo said, drawing Harry out of his reverie.

"Alright," he fell silent, before asking, "W-when will we next meet?"

Marvolo didn't reply to him for a while, and Harry waited in anticipation. "Your summer break, perhaps," he said finally. Harry could not resist the pout that formed on his lips.

"But that's ages away!" he griped. Marvolo looked at him with an indecipherable expression and Harry suddenly felt very childish. "Sorry… It's just… I'll miss you..." he admitted, heat rising to his cheeks.

"I must say it has been a while since someone has had the gall to whine to me," he said lightly, and Harry ducked his head in embarrassment at the amusement colouring his mentor's tone. "Your second semester will pass you by quickly, little serpent, there is no need to 'miss me'." Harry shrugged, privately thinking he will definitely still miss Marvolo. "Though if it is any consolation to your pride," he started, piquing Harry's interest, "I have grown fond of your company as well," he said, patting Harry on the shoulder. Harry's mouth fell open ever so slightly, not quite expecting that admission from Marvolo.

"I have somewhere to be, now. Call for Mipsy when you are ready," Marvolo informed him before he could stall packing any further, looking at his half-full trunk. Harry smiled bashfully.

"Where are you going?"

"Malfoy Manor."

"Oh," Harry said, not meaning to express his contempt so obviously, but his tone gave him away. Marvolo looked at him.

"Have the Malfoys done something to personally offend you?"

Harry sighed, "No… I just… don't get along with Draco Malfoy." Marvolo laughed. Harry looked up, taken aback. He has only ever heard the man laugh once, when they had just met, and it had not been one of good humour.

"Neither do I," he said simply as he walked past Harry and out the door. Harry blinked.

"Bye!" he called out after Marvolo, hoping he heard him. Harry sighed once again, a little deeper this time. That last exchange just made him certain he would miss Marvolo even more than he had initially thought.

The Dark Lord found Lucius standing with Narcissa and his son before the fireplace in the foyer of Malfoy Manor when the green flames of the Floo Network flickered out of sight. Narcissa curtsied and pushed the frozen boy into a bow. Lucius stepped forward to greet him with a deep bow and a reverent "My Lord".

"Lucius," he returned before looking to his wife behind him, "Narcissa." Finally, his gaze fell on the miniature copy of Lucius standing next to his mother in the Slytherin Hogwarts robes. There was a large trunk and a caged eagle owl behind them. "And little Malfoy," he said, modulating his almost mocking tone. Narcissa squeezed her son's shoulder, and he looked at her, puzzlement and overwhelming fear evident on his pallid face. Narcissa tilted her head towards the Dark Lord ever so slightly, her eyes never leaving the child's. The boy caught on to his mother's meaning, turning to face him, but dropping his gaze immediately.

"M-my L-ord," he said shakily, dipping his head. He wondered briefly what torture the little Malfoy was inflicting on Harry, as Abraxas had on him so long ago. Until he made him kneel, of course. The Malfoys were no imbeciles; they recognised power when they saw it. The Dark Lord smiled, and he knew it was not a pleasant one, for Little Malfoy, who had just mustered up the barest thread of courage to peek a glance at him, averted his gaze instantly.

"Off to another term at Hogwarts?" he asked, almost polite, almost innocuous, but both Lucius and Narcissa knew not to take him at surface value. Little Malfoy, however, had yet to discern the nuances of speaking to him.

The boy nodded jerkily, but Narcissa told him quietly, "Use your words, Draco."

He looked at her with pleading eyes, but gave him a verbal reply in the end. "Y-yes, My Lord," he whispered.

"Always a pleasure making conversation with you, little Malfoy," he said, sounding so genuine, even the little boy shrunk at the insincerity. The Dark Lord turned to Lucius behind him.

"You have raised him well, Lucius," he complimented, smiling sharply, "Not quite the conversationalist, is he?" Lucius flinched slightly.

"He… is caught off-guard, My Lord," he reasoned carefully. The Dark Lord hummed in vague agreement. Narcissa took that as their cue to leave.

"If you would excuse us, My Lord," she requested softly.

"Of course," he said, waving them off.

He walked on ahead and Lucius trailed behind him as they turned out of the foyer and walked through the halls of the extravagant manor. He saw in his periphery, Narcissa rubbing her son's back in comfort as he clung onto her forearm. In the distance, they heard the Floo come to life as it transported Narcissa and her son to the platform.

"What does Narcissa know?" The Dark Lord asked softly. Lucius breathed sharply.

"I believe she is under the impression that we will be discussing Ministerial matters today," he answered carefully. The Dark Lord made an agreeable sound.

"And the wards?"

"Ah… I had planned to seal the manor wards once your own have been put in place, My Lord," he said, somewhat questioningly. The Dark Lord turned slightly to look at his right-hand man, who was starting to look a little worried.

"The manor wards will never accept the presence of foreign magical signatures, Lucius." The man in question looked slightly more pale than usual. Voldemort nearly smiled. It was almost amusing to see such a seasoned man as Lucius fear him so disproportionately when a little boy like Harry came to him willingly for comfort after his night terrors. He supposed he knew where the little Malfoy's fear of him came from now.

"I… I will find an appropriate solution, My Lord," Lucius promised cautiously. Now, the Dark Lord did smile, and Lucius' head dipped further down, averting his gaze immediately.

"See to it that you do," he said simply, neither kindly nor threateningly. His Minister whispered a respectful "Of course," in response. They resumed walking, and Voldemort found it hard not to relish in Lucius' discomfort.

Harry's return to Hogwarts had been relatively uneventful. Except when Mipsy had sent him off with a tearful wish for a safe journey, and Harry found that he was even going to miss the over-enthusiastic house-elf. She had hugged his leg tightly, and said, "Little Master is good for Master! Little Master is good to Mipsy too!" Harry had smiled slightly quizzically at Marvolo's house-elf, unsure as to what she meant by the former half of her farewell.

"I'll miss you too, Mipsy," he said, meaning his words. He likely should have anticipated that that would have made Mipsy sob even harder.

In the end, it has taken about ten minutes to disentangle her from his leg and allow him to board the train. Still, when he sat down on the train and waved to the little elf through the window as the train started to pull out of the station, he could not, nor did he need to, suppress the grin that grew on his face.

Afterwards, little else happened; no one had barged into his compartment to challenge him to his claim to the seats, nor did Malfoy show up at his door ready to find a way to get him more detention. Harry had never been so grateful for an absolutely boring few hours of just waiting to arrive back at the castle. He had fallen in and out of sleep along the way, snacking on the diverse foods Mipsy had managed to squeeze into the paper bag, the book on his lap forgotten after the first hour of the train ride.

When he finally arrived in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, he found Hermione at the Ravenclaw table straining to see who was entering the Hall by the main doors. When she spotted him , she waved enthusiastically, ignoring the chuckles of her house-mates next to her. Harry made his way over to Hermione's spot along the long bench.

"Harry!" she greeted him with a hug.

"Did you get my letter?" he asked when she let him go.

"Yes! It sounds like you had a wonderful time. I'm really happy for you," she beamed.

"How did you spend Yule?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "Padma here," she pointed to the girl she was sitting next to, who smiled and waved shyly at him, "taught me some Wizard's Chess strategies with Parvati," she nodded in the general direction of the Gryffindor table.

"Her friend Hannah told us about the Hogwarts kitchen, and we had some great food there! The house-elves were so nice!" Harry smiled when he recalled Hermione's indignance upon first discovering what she perceived as the slavery of house-elves. They had only been 10, but she had kicked up such a fuss over it, the principal of Egladus had to sit her down one afternoon to explain that a house-elf's magical core was sustained by their bond to wizards. Harry had not been certain what transpired during their hour-long discussion, but Hermione had emerged with a staunch goal to promote elvish welfare and the fair treatment of house-elves.

"We can go there together sometime," she suggested.

"Okay," he agreed, glad that Hermione had a good time with her new friends.

"I think you should go sit down at your house table. The feast is starting soon," Hermione said, and Harry looked around, finding that the Great Hall was nearly back at full capacity. He nodded and bid goodbye to his friend. Walking briskly, he slid into an empty space at the Slytherin table opposite Nott, who nodded at him in acknowledgement.

Malfoy sat a few places down on the opposite bench, his head propped up by his hands, his usual air of arrogance and smoothness conspicuously absent. He dropped his arms, folding them in front of him when Parkinson squeezed in beside him and Zabini found an empty spot opposite him, but it could not disguise his dejection. Something had shaken Malfoy, and Harry was quite curious.

As usual, the Headmaster chose not to make a speech of any kind, waving his hand to signal the commencement of dinner. The food appeared on the table, and Harry suddenly felt a deep admiration for house-elf magic.

"What's wrong, Draco?" Parkinson asked loudly. Malfoy shushed her, but it was too late, having drawn the attention of many others around them. She blushed slightly, but when Malfoy remained stubbornly silent, the curious glances turned back to the feast in front of them.

Malfoy looked around to ensure that he only had the attention of his gang with him. Harry looked pointedly down at his plate, stabbing the piece of chicken with his fork. The Hall was noisy, but Malfoy was not sitting so far away that he could not hear him if he was paying attention. Malfoy sighed. "The Dark Lord came to see Father," he said at last.

Harry's eyes widened. Across from him, he saw surprise flicker on Nott's face.

"When?" Zabini asked, sounding more curious than concerned.

"Before I left to take the train."

"Did you see him?" Parkinson asked, rather redundantly, and clearly, Malfoy seemed to think so as well, for he pinned her with a look that said "obviously". Harry looked away before they could realise he was listening in.

Zabini shifted, leaning in. "What was he like?" he asked. Malfoy made a noise that was halfway between a groan and a huff. Zabini did not relent, looking at him with intent, "Did he talk to you?" he pursued.

Malfoy said something too soft for Harry to hear, but the sentiment was clear when Parkinson patted his shoulder in commiseration. Harry almost felt bad for him. He couldn't imagine having the attention of someone as intimidating as the Dark Lord on him. But he didn't think it was something he would ever have to worry about.

Harry walked into the Potions classroom, settling down next to Nott as he had for the past few months. "Hello," he greeted politely, not quite expecting a response, but Nott raised his hand in an aborted wave. "Did you have a good Yule?" he asked, somewhat emboldened by Nott's acknowledgement. He turned to look at Harry, but didn't respond. Harry shrugged minutely, hanging his bag off the back of his chair.

"It was fine," he responded, much to Harry's surprise. It wasn't much, but it was more than their usual silent partnership. "I saw you on the train," he continued, surprising Harry further at the attempt to sustain conversation.

"Oh… I was staying with someone," he revealed ambiguously.

"'Someone'?" he repeated with amusement. Harry smiled, and was about to respond when Malfoy brushed past their workbench, turning to give Nott the stink-eye. The brown-haired boy next to him raised a brow at Malfoy. Harry looked between the two of them, wondering what he was missing at this exchange. He walked away to his seat, Parkinson appearing a few moments later to sit in the adjacent seat of their workstation.

"Um… Did something happen between you two?" Harry asked in a low voice.

Nott made a vaguely irritated noise, "He's just being a pillock," He made a gesture that told Harry he was not going to answer his questions beyond that. Harry released a tired breath; did Malfoy really have to ruin everything? They were almost friendly for a moment there.

At that moment, Professor Slughorn ambled to the front of the classroom and the class quieted. He instructed them to concoct the Forgetfulness Potion, talking them through the process, and giving them additional tips to create a better potion. The rest of the lesson contained minimal conversation between him and Nott, constrained mostly to the task of brewing.

When Potions ended that day, Harry was left with a faint feeling of disappointment. The class had gone wonderfully, but Harry felt like a child that was given candy and then had it taken away from him. His relationship with Theodore Nott had been cordial and even approaching friendly, and he could not figure out why his Potions partner had immediately shut down Harry's attempt to make conversation after Malfoy's appearance.

He sighed deeply... He has been doing a lot of that lately. Harry deeply longed for his old friends from Egladus. He wondered how Seamus, Dean and Justin were doing. Probably better than me he thought ruefully. He should probably write them sometime soon. Tyler as well, he realised belatedly. He was probably having the time of his life being an actual Death Eater. Harry frowned, wondering how he had managed to neglect his old friendships following his admittance to Hogwarts.

Rounding the corner, he heard tense voices carrying over to where he was. He backtracked immediately, but neither of the interlocutors noticed his presence.

"...need to stop… with Potter," came Malfoy's I-always-get-what-I-want voice. Harry bit his lip as he heard his name, straining to hear the entirety of the conversation. He stopped right at the bend, pulling his satchel tighter to his person as he inched closer, and more of their conversation drifted over to him. He heard Nott scoff at Malfoy.

"Don't worry Draco, Potter won't threaten your social standing yet," he said in a deceptively light tone. Harry had to wonder how his classmates, despite being 11 years-old, could sound so much like adults.

"What do you mean 'yet'?" Malfoy asked, his voice raised in irritation. "He will never be better than me!"

"Keep it down, will you?" Nott hissed, and Harry saw him narrow his eyes at Malfoy, and the blond huffed in annoyance. Their conversation grew quieter, consisting of sharp words whispered too quickly and inaudibly for Harry to make out accurately. Harry rubbed his arm in an attempt to dispel the uneasy feeling of being talked about in contempt.

He was ready to turn away to find another route to walk, until he heard Nott scoff loudly once more, turning his back to Malfoy and walking away. When Malfoy's face came into Harry's view, it was clear that whatever Nott had said to the boy did not please him, for his normally pale face was red and contorted in a scowl. In a flash, he had whipped out his wand, pointing it to Nott's back.

"Flipendo!" Nott turned around to face Malfoy in surprise, sidestepping the Knockback Jinx by a hair's width.

"Expelliarmus!" rang out in the corridor just as the pale yellow light of the jinx zipped past Nott and dissipated harmlessly when it hit the stone wall at the end of the corridor. Malfoy's wand was ripped out of his hand, the invisible force so strong it made him stumble and trip back, his fall only broken by the stones of the castle wall.

Harry's grip on his wand tightened, his eyes wide as he watched Malfoy rub his head and push himself back up, groaning as he scrambled rather inelegantly into an upright position. So that's what Marvolo meant by true intention, he thought numbly.

"H-how dare you attack me!" he snarled, glaring viciously at Nott as he picked up his wand with one hand and brushed his robes off with the other. His bag laid on the floor, forgotten.

"Goblin calling the house-elf short, Draco; Let's not forget you drew your wand first," Nott retorted calmly, unyielding in the face of his fellow First-Year Slytherin throwing a temper tantrum. "Besides," he continued casually, "I didn't do it."

"What!" Malfoy asked incredulously, pure-blood stoicism all but forgotten, "You're the only other person here, Theodore!" Nott shrugged dismissively, which only served to infuriate Malfoy further.

Harry breathing quickened, and he backtracked. He cringed at the sound of his shoes shuffling against the cobblestone, finding it unusually loud in the tense silence of the corridor. When his bag accidentally scraped against the coarse walls of the castle, it made a rough sound that had two heads turning to his direction.

Harry froze. Should he run? Could he run?

In the time it took him to make a decision, the two pure-bloods appeared from around the corner. Nott's eyebrows raised in surprise while Malfoy's sharp feature twisted into a deep scowl.

"You!" exclaimed the blond. "You won't get away with this," he promised ominously, stepping forward to encroach in Harry's space. He backed into the wall. Nott rolled his eyes in the background.

"Once again, Draco," he said, drawing their attention back to him, "You tried to attack me first. If you report Potter, I will be sure to let them know the full story." Harry bit his lip to stop his mouth from falling into a gape.

"You're on his side?" Malfoy accused immediately, eyeing Harry like he was something disgusting on the bottom of his shoe.

"I'm on my own side," Nott corrected easily.

Malfoy huffed imperiously and straightened, walking off to tug his bag off the floor. He glared at Nott. "You should be careful, Theodore. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort," he warned. He pulled his bag over his shoulder, turning his glower to Harry. "My Father will hear about this," he threatened, walking away in the direction of the Slytherin common room. Nott snorted beside him as the blond head disappeared around the corner, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

"Thanks…" Harry said quietly.

"Watch your back, Potter. Draco isn't exactly someone you want as an enemy," he cautioned not unkindly. Then he smirked as he eyed the wand still in Harry's hand, "Although, maybe you can handle yourself." Harry shrugged with a smile tugging at his lips. They walked beside each other.

"Wouldn't you have to watch your back too?" he asked. Nott folded his arms.

"I can take care of myself," he returned matter-of-factly, "There isn't much that Draco's capable of that I haven't seen."

"Are… are you friends with him?" Harry asked tentatively, finding it incongruous that they call each other by their first names, yet seemed to dislike each other. The brown-haired Slytherin next to him made an odd expression.

"We've known each other for a long time," he answered elusively. "Our families are allied," he said by way of explanation. Harry nodded slowly, having a vague basic understanding of pure-blood politics.

"Perhaps we would've been better friends if the War was still going on, and our position as Dark supporters put us in danger," he mused, "but as it is, we maintain a certain distance."

"Perhaps he wouldn't be so arrogant if he was in a dangerous position."

Nott smirked a little wider. "I doubt that. He'll always have Daddy to protect him somehow." Harry turned to look at Nott worriedly, reminded of Malfoy's parting threat.

"His Father's far too busy to deal with every little squabble Draco gets himself into," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. They fell into silence.

"Why… Why are you so… nice to me?" Harry asked, a little confused. "It's not as if I saved your life or anything."

"You disarmed a threat to my safety. Like I told Draco earlier, I'm on my own side, and anyone that protects me and my interests gets a thumbs up in my book," he said easily. "Besides," he continued with a smirk, "I pretty much like anyone who Draco doesn't."

"So… A-are we… friends?" Harry asked nervously. Nott shrugged.

"Sure. Looks like you could use one, Potter," he said in a tone that made Harry smile despite the bluntness of his words. He stopped walking and Nott turned to face him in surprise. He stuck out a hand.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Harry Potter, but please call me Harry," he said with a soft smile. His new friend opposite him gave an amused snort and did the same. They grasped each other's hands.

"Pleasure. My name is Theodore Nott Jr, but you may call me Theo." Harry grinned, and they shook hands once.

"Where did you learn the Disarming Charm anyway?" he asked once they continued walking, "It's one of the harder Second-Year spells."

Harry shrugged slightly, deciding that he will tell Nott— Theo— who he had spent his holidays with and what he had learnt one day, but not yet. "I like to read ahead." Theo looked at him, somewhat disbelieving.

"You're full of secrets, aren't you?" he said, and Harry laughed.

Just a few, he thought privately, smiling when Theo shook his head.

a chapter that ends on a sweeter note! wondering what you guys think about the pacing of the chapters? just let me know what you think! OH and you can follow me on my tumblr (search potato-ladyy or follow this link: .com ), I just started it, but i'll be probably be posting some extra writing or previews for this fic, some fan art that i'll do occasionally, and just general shenanigans. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and chapter 7 should be out next week!