There were benefits to being quiet, Harry thought, as the hubbub of people talking around him washed over him like water over a stone. This Granger seemed like a smart enough girl -witch he mentally corrected himself. Yet, even she wanted to go into Gryffindor. Somehow she thought bravery was the best virtue. Which seemed like a lot of nonsense to Harry. Being brave without being clever was likely to get you into all sorts of jams.

Harry mentally reviewed the list of Gryffindor Events he had managed in his life. Truth be told, they weren't many, but he intended to get himself sorted into the House of Heroes, whether anyone liked it or not. And since he wasn't sure exactly how the hat decided - other than the bland statement that "whatever the hat decides is best" - which seemed like a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy, particularly as there weren't resortings (and yes, he had read about a few children who had begged to be resorted, and quite a few more parents who had arrived in high dugeon.)

Ron Weasley continued to seem thick - showing off a spell that his brothers' had taught him. Harry hadn't heard of it, Granger was predictably snide, and Longbottom looked like he was trying to muffle his own laughter. Still, Harry thought, they're talking to me. This was a new occurrence. Everyone before this had learned to leave him alone as quickly as Dudley chuffed up a hill.

Harry picked and listened to the kids talking - Longbottom seemed a bit of a dope, but quiet and a bit pensive as well. Granger was snotty, and smug, and full of facts upon facts. Not that Harry wasn't full of facts, he just preferred not to give them all in one sitting, so to speak.

The blond and the two thugs had left the door open a crack, so when Harry made a joke about the cat stalking the basilisk (stone-cold curiosity), Hermione squealed, "Harry!"

Apparently the blond and his thugs were just outside, as the door opened rapidly, the blond looking at the rest of them, "So you're Harry Potter, are you?"

"That's what everyone keeps telling me." Harry says with a modest smile, "Of course I keep on telling them other things, but they never seem to stick."

"I'm Draco Malfoy," the blond said, extending his hand, "And I can show you which wizards you'd do better to befriend."

Ron apparently hadn't counted on Malfoy's pompousness, as he started guffawing*.

"Not like this riffraff here," Malfoy said grandly, "Red hair and handmedown clothes, it must be a Weasley!"

"I think I can make my own decisions, thanks." Harry said gently but firmly. Draco's face darkened, as he abruptly whirled, shutting the door.

Harry frowned at that, Ron's voice piping up as he started a grand imitation of Malfoy that had the other two in stitches. Which wizards was he talking about? Damn it all to hell, this is going to drive me mad! I should have asked that first, before saying 'no thanks.' Even if they were really, really bad ideas, at least I'd know more than I do now!

As the train came into the station, everyone shucked on robes on top of their clothing (well, Longbottom was already in robes, he said his grandmum was strict - but fair. Harry privately thought the pause there was both telling and interesting).

[a/n: Write a review! Pensive, quiet Harry is overthinking Malfoy a bit, but... that's life!]

*unbeknownst to Harry, Ron's thought was "my god, he sounds like Percy!"