"Did you see him," Ron laughed, almost unable to breathe. "God, that was hilarious!"

Hermione looked like she wanted to laugh, but also wanted to be sympathetic. What they were referring to, as Harry had also witnessed, was Malfoy's latest performance in the Slytherin-Ravenclaw Quidditch match. The Slytherin captain had been given an old Nimbus 2000 that had been repaired by Madam Hooch and kept in storage for the last five years. It was far faster than the school brooms, but had a similarly discouraging setback.

The old broom had clearly sustained some serious damage, as it didn't seem to handle very easily. The Seeker had tried his best to keep in control of it, but it would dip and jerk randomly as he flew through the air in what should have been a straight path. Harry knew the frustration, having had a wildly out of control broom thanks to Quirrell in his first year. Draco's had been much more functional, but still prevented him from making the game-winning catch.

Slytherin's defeat had come when the Nimbus had flipped mid-flight and spun to the ground, sending the team captain falling in a series of forward-rolls. The impact wasn't bad and the fall was not from high, so Draco was able to get back on his feet quickly. Unfortunately for the team, no sooner had he gotten back up off the ground than Cho Chang had caught the snitch for Ravenclaw. Harry had never seen the group of green-clad athletes leave the pitch faster.

Laughter and shouts were echoing across the grounds as the student body filed back into the castle. Harry had laughed with them at first, as it was genuinely comical to watch happen, but by the time they were back in the common room the amusement had worn off and was replaced by uncertainty. It seemed he was the only one who wasn't breathless with laughter, aside from Hermione who restrained herself to a smile. After all, he was no stranger to being mocked at and taunted by the entire school. To him, it quickly struck a little too close to home to be funny.

Brushing it off as they decided to head to the library, Harry grabbed his bag and followed Ron and Hermione through the portrait hole. When they arrived and looked for a table, Luna and Ginny were there and had just been sitting down to study.

"Oh, hello," Luna greeted them, airily as always. "You weren't going to invite us then?"

Harry scrunched up his face in confusion as he tried to figure out what she meant. Ginny leveled them with an unimpressed look and crossed her arms.

"To your little dueling club?" she filled in.

Harry and Ron cringed, and Hermione came to the rescue.

"I'm sorry we didn't think about it," she replied genuinely. "The boys asked us at breakfast yesterday if we would help them practice. It wasn't like the three of us were recruiting or anything! You should definitely join us next time, if you like. Professor McGonagall is making us do it every Friday before dinner for students to watch."

Luna nodded her head while staring off into the distance, which the trio took as an agreement to join. Ginny blushed slightly as she realized she had basically asked to join in a very public demonstration of skill, but put on a determined expression and thanked them, promising to be there. They had a brief conversation about club-toed-newts before settling into silence with their books. The silence, however, was often broken as students walked through the stacks whispering among themselves.

"…so ridiculous- definitely put him in his place."

"…wish I could have seen…"

"… get a better broom… Captain, after all." Similar comments seemed to come from all directions.

"… 'tell my father about this!'" one voice mocked.

Ron seemed to have overheard that one, and snorted quietly, a small smile on his face.

"… see him try… no money… what they deserve…" Harry was unable to tune it out, and his fingers twitched on his quill as he became too distracted to write. Giving up on studying, he told his friends he was instead going to help Neville supervise his dueling shift before he had to supervise his own.

It'll pass by the end of the day, Harry thought in an attempt to reassure himself as he headed out of the library. Yet he wasn't so sure, having never known Hogwarts gossip to die down after just one day.

x

Monday morning at breakfast, Harry glanced around the Hall and his suspicion was proved correct. Heads pressed together and darting glances were everywhere, the telltale sign of rumors and mockery at work. Out of habit, his stomach dropped; almost every time this happened at meals in the past, the subject of the gossip had been him. To the Gryffindor, it meant he wouldn't have a moment of peace in the halls or on the grounds, and he felt his guard go up instinctively. It wasn't until he realized nobody was actually looking his way that he remembered nothing had happened to put him at risk socially yet this year.

Following the not-so-subtle gazes, he found his eyes upon Draco Malfoy, eating silently at the front corner of the Slytherin table nearest the professors. His head fell to the side and came to rest on his hand, propped up by his elbow on the table. He picked at a muffin and occasionally sipped some coffee, his expression blank except for when he met the eyes of another student and scowled. The blond boy caught Harry staring as well, and scowled at him too. After a moment, though, his expression faded and he looked away glumly.

"Do you think he looks a bit sad?" Ginny asked from the other side of Hermione.

"Not so tough now, I guess," Ron shrugged. "Who cares, anyway? It's Malfoy and it's only a bit of embarrassment. We've all suffered worse from him."

Harry agreed. In theory.

As the rest of the day passed, though, he found that his familiar unsettled feeling was growing worse and worse. This time it was different than usual, and more identifiable; he was watching someone struggle without doing anything about it. As much as Harry hated what Malfoy had put him through, the Slytherin was- in this case- completely innocent. Worse still, Harry knew that Draco's parents had surrendered their ability to pay for a replacement for their son and were now living entirely on the generosity of the school. What the school had been able to supply was going to continue to embarrass the boy to no end, Harry was sure.

In Defense that day, Malfoy had been randomly paired with Seamus, and his mood was transparent through his spellcasting. One minute he would be lazily throwing up shields and barely hitting with his jinxes, and the next something would flash in his eyes as he heard a laugh and he would start relentlessly attacking. He even bounced from being caught off guard and stunned by his father to strategically deflecting the stunning spells to hit Seamus instead. It was perhaps the most bipolar performance Harry had ever seen, not that he had much time to pay attention. Seamus had left the class nearly collapsing from physical and mental exhaustion, having not been able to keep up with the changes of pace very well.

When the last class had finished for the day, Harry took his books out of his bag and placed them by his bed. Leaving just the invisibility cloak, some parchment and a quill, and a small pouch in his satchel, Harry headed down into the common room.

"Going somewhere?" Ron asked, he and Hermione looking up at Harry from their chairs.

"Yeah," Harry admitted. "Honestly, I just need to go for a walk. You know, relax a little."

Thankfully, their days of being suspicious of Harry's motives were over. Now that he wasn't in immediate danger, they were much more willing to accept his random walks, which he took often. After getting used to being alone in the quiet of the summer at Hogwarts, he found he spent most nights getting away from everyone else and studying or practicing spells where no one would find him.

Throwing on his invisibility cloak, he said goodnight to his friends and stepped through the portrait hole. The castle wasn't quite empty yet, as it wasn't after hours. Students walked in groups back to their common rooms from wherever they had been studying or talking for the evening, their footsteps echoing around the corridors. The sun had just set, and Harry was met with a sky fading to darkness as he walked down the main steps of the castle onto the grass. It was a pleasant and peaceful walk, with nobody to interrupt him from enjoying the refreshing November breeze. Eventually, he passed what he knew marked the edge of the protection spells surrounding Hogwarts, and focused clearly on his destination. With a quick turn and a loud pop, he Disapparated.

Appearing on the front steps of Gringotts, he took a deep breath. Diagon Alley was fairly deserted, save for a few wizarding couples who wanted a night out and were heading to or from the Leaky Cauldron. He knew the wizard bank was open twenty-four hours, in part for security, and he walked up to the counter before moving the cloak to reveal his face to an unassuming worker. The goblin jumped, but regained his composure quickly. Harry was met with a suspicious look, the goblins not having forgotten that he had managed to break less than a year ago. When they had learned, however, why Harry had done it, they begrudgingly allowed him to continue using and visiting the bank.

"Wand, please," the goblin said passively.

Harry took his wand out and gave it to the banker to inspect. Apparently passing as sufficient identification, the goblin then gave the wand back and gestured for Harry to follow. After the terrible ride in the cart down to his vault, he stepped through the door and towards the still massive pile of gold waiting for him. If he thought he had a lot of money back in his first year, it was nothing compared to what Sirius had now. He had been the one to inherit the entire Black fortune when the rest of his godfather's family had passed away childless. Naturally, Sirius had had nobody to spend it on, and couldn't even use the money himself for the time he spent both in Azkaban and on the run. Stepping forward, he pulled out his pouch and filled it with about a thousand galleons. He was thankful his friends had never gotten to see the pile that stood before him, making what he had just taken seem like scraps.

When he left the bank, Harry walked down the street over to Quality Quidditch Supplies. Taking out his parchment, he proceeded to write a message.

Please deliver the best broom this money can buy to Draco Malfoy at Hogwarts.

He genuinely had no idea how much money brooms were these days, as he intended to only use the Firebolt Sirius had bought him until it was no longer physically possibly. It had been years since he had bothered to look at brooms, though he knew they were usually hundreds of galleons. At the moment, it was too dark to see into the store and read any of the labels, so he simply hoped his instinct was accurate enough. Keeping the message vague, he rolled the parchment up and sealed it to the string which tied the pouch of money shut. He then pushed it, admittedly with difficulty, through the mail slot in the front door of the shop. With another turn, he headed back to Hogwarts.

x

The following morning, nothing was delivered to the Great Hall at breakfast, aside from the typical letters and care packages from family. Harry spent the rest of the day slightly worried that he hadn't been successful in his secret mission after all. Despite his fears, he didn't try to casually ask anyone how much brooms cost because he didn't want to give them any reason to suspect a thing.

On Wednesday, however, Harry realized his thoughtlessness. Of course it wouldn't have been there by morning, because even if it somehow got there quickly enough, McGonagall had ordered a few student's mail to be screened before they received it. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were among those on the list. He wouldn't at all be surprised if the Malfoy family was as well, as they may have become even bigger targets than Harry by now.

To his relief, when he heard the screech of owls he looked up to see four or five struggling to carry a long boxed package over to the Slytherin table. It was obvious that the intended recipient had no idea; he didn't look up at all, instead focused intently on his tea. That was probably why, when the package was dropped in front of him and his breakfast and drink flew at him as a result, he nearly fell off the bench. There was a ripple of laughter, Harry involuntarily part of it, as the blond boy recovered from his shock, sat back upright, and waved his wand down his front to clean his robes of the spilled tea.

Everyone turned their attention, silently, on to the Slytherin. There wasn't anyone sitting close enough to him for it to have been a mistake, and Draco looked over at his father, who had descended from his seat at the professor's table. They were both looking at the package with great concern, as the older man pulled out his wand before placing a hand on his son's shoulder and nodding. Slightly stiff with anxiety, Malfoy moved to open the package.

"What do you reckon it could be?" Ron asked, looking quickly between Harry and Hermione before turning back to watch.

"Dunno," Harry said casually enough to be convincing.

As the box was opened and the packaging was removed, the end of a wooden handle became visible to the hall. Students immediately turned to each other in surprise and exclaimed quietly. Draco himself looked a bit pale and couldn't seem to stop his jaw from dropping. He looked up at his father, who appeared equally shocked but maintained his composure, and Harry saw his mouth move. It seemed as though the boy was asking if his parents had been responsible for the purchase, as Lucius shook his head at Draco, puzzled.

"Bloody Hell!" Ron shouted characteristically. "Is that a Firebolt Supreme? Who's sending him that?"

Ron's jaw was even closer to the ground than Malfoy's, and Hermione came to an accurate conclusion from her observations of the exchange.

"Well," she offered, "it looks like it wasn't his parents."

Draco stuffed the broom back into the box, not wanting to draw even more attention. Quickly, he abandoned his breakfast and grabbed his bag, walking as fast as he could out of the Hall with his parcel. As he left, Harry thought he noticed the smallest hint of a smile on the blond boy's mouth.

That was new.