A/N: This chapter isn't SUPER different than canon, but it did allow me to introduce Draco Malfoy to the story. It won't be long before we move away from the books, I just have to get a little groundwork done first.

Next chapter we'll meet Hermoine! That should be up by Friday.

Also, you can find me on Tumblr. I'm xxsummersirenxx, and my ask box is open there so you can message me there (anon is on too if you prefer).

Chapter Three

After a brief meetup in the Leaky Cauldron—and after being recognized and much hand-shaking with awestruck witches and wizards on Harry's part—he, Sirius and the Weasleys stepped into Diagon Alley. Harry had been one a couple of very memorable occasions before, but every time he walked this winding street it was like the first time all over again. Anticipation swelled in him as he caught a glimpse of Ollivander's. He was going to get his very own magic wand at last.

"Are we going to Gringott's first?" he asked Sirius. His godfather, who was busy reading through the list of school supplies that had come with the letter, glanced down at him and shook his head.

"No need," he replied. At Harry's scowl, he only grinned and ruffled the boy's hair. "What kind of godfather would I be if I made you buy your own school supplies?"

When Harry had discovered that he had a vault full of gold concealed far beneath London, he'd insisted that Sirius take it. They'd had multiple discussions about it, but Sirius had never accepted. Even now, with a list full of school supplies, he wouldn't think of touching Harry's inheritance. The boy knew he should be grateful, but he couldn't help feeling a touch of guilt when he thought about it.

"Don't worry, Harry." Sirius leaned down, his voice a low rumble in Harry's ear. "I've got plenty of gold. The Ministry pays well."

The Ministry? Harry shot him a look, but Sirius only winked at him. This was a discussion they'd have later, it seemed. For now, there were plenty of places they needed to go in order to obtain the items on his list, and it was clear that the younger Weasleys were ready to get started. In fact, Fred and George were nearly to the Apothecary shop already, discussing ingredients that Harry wasn't sure were for class. After a quick word with Sirius, Molly and Arthur followed the twins to ensure they didn't buy anything too exotic.

Ron and Ginny stepped up to his side. "Books first, eh? Get the boring part out of the way?" Ron suggested. Ginny elbowed him in the ribs.

"Books are not boring, Ron," she told her brother with and edge of steel in her voice. Harry hid a smirk. He wasn't sure how she'd take it if he told her, but Ginny could sound remarkably like her mother when she chose to.

"Books first," he agreed, deliberately not taking a side with either sibling. Together, the three of them headed toward Flourish and Blotts with Sirius trailing behind them. Percy split away from the group to Madam Malkin's, keen to have her ensure that the prefect's badge he had charmed onto his robes would be secure for the entire year.

As they entered Flourish and Blotts, Harry was forced to agree with Ginny: these books were anything but boring. Grimmauld Place had a large library, but most of the tomes there exuded an oppressive air and he'd been too wary to read them. Here, however, there were books of every shape and size, with titles that frightened, intrigued and excited. He could hardly keep his eyes in his head as he, Ginny and Ron wandered through the aisles.

"I wish I was going to Hogwarts this year too," Ginny said, watching as Harry and Ron collected a small pile of schoolbooks. Her eyes were wistful as she scanned the titles in Ron's pile, her fingers brushing over the worn covers. Harry and Ron had both selected their school books from the used section, and though Ron's cheeks had glowed pink, Harry wasn't embarrassed or bothered to use books that had passed through the hands of former students. In fact, the idea was kind of nice, like sharing a bit of Hogwarts' history with other excited first years.

After they'd purchased their books, Sirius took them to get cauldrons and then over to the Apothecary (where Molly was arguing with Fred and George about whether or not they needed quite so much dragon liver) where they bought the potions ingredients they'd need. By the time they'd left, Ginny's shoulders had slumped.

"Alright?" Harry asked her.

"I'm fine. It's just that now it'll just be me at home with mum and dad. It was bad enough when it just me and Ron, but…" She sighed. "It's going to be a boring year."

And lonely, no doubt. After sharing a home with six brothers, the Burrow was going to be a little too quiet for her liking this year.

"I'll write to you. I'll make sure Ron does too." He offered her a small smile and she blushed and turned away. "Every week."

"Thanks, Harry," she replied. She didn't look at him again, and they both fell silent as they followed Sirius to Madam Malkin's. Ron cast them a curious look, but Harry gave a small shake of his head and the other didn't ask any questions.

Madam Malkin greeted Ron and Harry with a smile, then ushered them to the back of the shop. There was another boy there already. He was a tall, pale youth with silvery-blonde hair. His chin was tilted up and he appeared to be rather bored as another witch pinned and hemmed the robes he was wearing.

Harry opened his mouth to introduce himself, but stopped when he realized how tense Ron had grown beside him. His best friend was bristling at the sight of the other boy. Harry, whose social circle had been tightly controlled by both Sirius and Dumbledore, was baffled by Ron's response.

"Malfoy," he growled.

The boy glanced over and then his eyes narrowed. They were a stormy grey, cold as a slab of slate as he took in the redhead at Harry's side.

"Weasley." He let his gaze slip away, this bored young aristocrat. It was clear he didn't give a fig about Ron's apparent hatred of him. Harry looked back and forth between them, wishing someone would explain just what the problem was.

"And, uh…I'm Harry," he said when it was clear no one was going to speak.

"Bully for you," came the blonde boy's reply. He didn't look over at them again. "Unless you've got a decent racing broom stashed under those Muggle clothes, Harry, I'm certain I don't care."

"You should care," Ron snapped before Harry could stop him. "You should care a lot, because this is Harry Potter."

Now the other boy did look at him, and Harry repressed the urge to give Ron a smack in light of this sudden scrutiny. Better to present a united front for the sake of his friend.

"Harry Potter, is it?" Those grey eyes swept up to Harry's forehead and lingered on the scar half-hidden under his hair. "Savior of the Wizarding world. And I'm Draco Malfoy."

He said this with the air of someone who expected to be recognized, but Harry hadn't the faintest idea why this might be. No one had ever mentioned anyone named Draco to him…although the name Malfoy was vaguely familiar…

And then it hit him. Of course the name Malfoy was familiar to him, he'd seen it on the wall of his own home a thousand times before. This was a member of Sirius' family.

"I think you're related to my godfat—" he started to say, but he was cut off by a sharp nudge from Ron.

"Don't bother. Malfoy's too pure to bother with the likes of us," the redhead snapped.

"Well, I could certainly find a more suitable companion than you, Weasley." Draco smirked as Ron lunged toward him, only to end up pricking himself as the witch doing his fitting struggled to keep him still. "You may be a pure-blood family but you've little enough to show for it. I'd suggest you reconsider your friendship, Potter. He'll only be holding onto the back of your robes, hoping for a little bit of glory. Or for a pile of gold."

The casually cruel way this little speech was delivered had shocked Harry a little bit. He was aware, vaguely, of the prejudices in the Wizarding world. When he'd asked about the great family tree that he'd seen Malfoy's name on, Sirius had given him a brief explanation of the pure-blood lines. He'd always assumed that any member of a pure-blood family would have been welcome into their somewhat exclusive society, but it was clear that despite the Weasleys' blood status, the Malfoys wanted nothing to do with them. The system itself seemed ludicrously archaic, but clearly it was still very important in some circles.

Ron was struggling toward the Malfoy boy again, and damn the pins and needles that had sprouted all along his collar and hemline, but Harry reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

"You've got it backwards," Harry told the blonde boy. "I'm the one that's lucky to be Ron's friend. And I really don't care what your name is, you're not the sort of wizard I'd want to be friends with if that's your attitude."

Malfoy's smirk had turned into a sneer. "Suit yourself, Potter. I was only trying to help."

"We don't need your help," Ron snarled, and after that a tense silence fell over the room until Malfoy's fitting was done and he left. Ron's fist was balled and shaking with anger as the blonde boy walked out of the back room, but he relaxed as soon as he and Harry were alone again.

"We've run into each other a few times before. His dad works for the Ministry, different department than mine, but whenever there's a Ministry event we always seem to meet. They're all like that, the whole lot of them. They all look like they've just smelled something awful, and they treat everyone except the other pure-blood lot like trash."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. Malfoy certainly hadn't made a good first impression, but he sensed something there beneath the scorn. A pressure to succeed, to live up to the expectations of an ancient family? A loneliness? Or perhaps he was just being silly. Whatever else might be going on in Draco Malfoy's life, he'd certainly learned to parrot the bigoted views of his parents, and Harry had no tolerance for that. Especially not when it came to the people he cared about.

By the time they exited the shop with their robes wrapped in neat little boxes Ron had regained his normal sense of good humor. Judging by her smile and the large ice cream she was eating, so had Ginny. Sirius smiled broadly at them as he added Harry's robes to the pile of school supplies they'd already purchased.

"Ginny needed a bit of a pick me up, so I took her to Florean Fortescue's while we were waiting," he explained. "She's as charming as your twin brothers, Ron. She sweet-talked old Florean into an extra scoop in three minutes flat."

Ginny let out a surprisingly devious giggle and Ron rolled his eyes before stealing a finger full of her sundae. While the two siblings began battling over the dessert, Sirius looped an arm over Harry's shoulder and turned him toward Ollivander's.

"I think it's about time you have a wand of your own, don't you?" he asked, knowing how much Harry had been looking forward to this part.

Cheeks flushing with pleasure and excitement, Harry nodded. "More than time," he agreed, and together the four of them walked into the shop.

The rest of the Weasleys had been waiting in Ollivander's shop, eager to watch Harry and Ron choose their wands. Or rather, to be chosen by their wands. It was just as magical an experience as Harry had imagined it would be, but the euphoria he'd felt as he'd touched his wand the first time had been somewhat tempered by the knowledge that it had shared a core with Voldemort's.

He'd looked to Sirius as Ollivander had divulged that particular bit of information and his godfather's expression had been closed and dark. They'd locked eyes and only then had Sirius relaxed a little, seeing the fear in Harry's eyes.

"The wand's core doesn't matter, Harry," he'd whispered to his godson as they left the shop, "it's the heart of the wand's wielder that matters, and no one has a better heart than you."

Harry had smiled up at him in gratitude, but as they bid their goodbyes to the Weasleys, he felt a small, cold sliver of doubt. He wondered if he'd ever be free of Voldemort's shadow, if he'd ever be worthy of his parent's sacrifice.