Draco Malfoy spent the rest of the night helping out the first years, who couldn't wipe their own noses without help.

He'd been the same as a first year, he remembered well.

So he did it with good grace, if a considerable amount of well-concealed patience.

Draco wasn't Snape, he couldn't afford to be an asshole to his own House.

Draco decided against catching that former Ravenclaw before breakfast, figuring that she, like most Gryffindors, would arrive in a clump. They'd leave by ones and twos, sure, but they arrived as if they were in Slytherin, as a team. Shared memory of troubles, or perhaps just generalized cameraderie.

Draco Malfoy was seated at the beginning of Breakfast, and saw the exact instant Potter and the Golden Trio entered. Potter held court, and apparently had somehow gotten the idea that Draco was responsible. Not that there was any logical sense to that - plenty of people had white-gold hair (Draco was certain the person who had been seen was Luna. He hadn't been that slipshod.*). Draco could see (if not hear) Granger pointing that out. Potter wasn't listening, and Weasel considered all Slytherins to be poisonous.

If all Slytherins were poison, than Draco was a remarkably slow acting one.

He stood slowly, and sauntered over, giving a sidealong smirk to Potter. He could almost hear the sound of Potter's teeth breaking, his jaw was clenched so hard. Draco looked as smug as he was able, and said to Potter, "Missing some Gryffindors?" He continued to smirk, "I wonder why." Just for affect, Draco widened his eyes, before controlling them again.

Plant the suspicion, say nothing incriminating.

Saunter away.

It almost worked, too... Potter was too busy grinding his teeth, and Granger was too busy trying to get Weasley** to pay attention.

In fact, it wasn't even the Gryffindors that proved to be a problem, that first day.

Potter was probably running to tell his old pal Dumbledore, Draco smirked.

Down in the dungeons, where claws and dorks feared to tread. It was nearing curfew, and Draco was looking at his shiny prefect button. Too long, apparently, as he'd run into some Hufflepuffs. Normally, Hufflepuffs scattered when he came by. Nobody wanted to risk the wrath of a Malfoy, not over floor-space.

Draco didn't notice anything amiss until they'd closed ranks behind his back.

His jaw jutted out, as he looked them over, "You gotta problem? A score you wanna settle?" His truculence was completely unfazed by being surrounded by upwards of four Hufflepuffs (he couldn't see how many were behind him.).

"Heard you're taking credit for the Missing Persons." One of the Hufflepuffs (Ernie, was it?) ground out.

"You mean the Mudbloods?" Draco sneered.

Draco felt a sudden push from behind, that sent him right into a fist that impacted his shoulder with a bright explosion of pain. It wasn't the last, though he winced hardest when his eye got pummeled. At some point after his existence had become sheer pain and more pain, he fell to the ground. The blows kept coming. Eventually, through his good eye, he managed to find a gap - while they were debating smashing his fingers one by one. He scrambled out and ran, listening to their laughter following him down the halls.

Mudbloods had friends.

This was expected.

*Luna was being deliberate. Because Luna. But she also has less to fear if she got caught, Miss Reporter-in-Training.

**He does know Ron's name. Any use of nicknames is deliberate, and when he's not thinking directly of Ron, he doesn't generally nickname.

[a/n: Did you know this was going to happen? Draco was ... somewhat expecting it. I think he's underestimated how much a Designated Punching Bag gets hit, though. Leave a review?]