One month later...

Draco sighed. His friend was still grieving over Voldemort's downfall. His adoptive father had tried to kill the Longbottoms, whose son he assumed was the actual chosen since Harry, he believed, wasn't. However, his killing curse at Neville was deflected back at him somehow. "Harry?" He knocked on his friend's door timidly. Last time he had tried to approach him after Voldemort's disappearance, Harry had cursed him - something Harry had never done before. Draco had been unable to move for days out of sheer pain.

Surprisingly, Harry did opened the door. His face was tearstained and his eyes bloodshot red. Seeing Draco, he didn't seem to recognize him.

"Harry, dinner's ready." Draco was extremely worried. Harry hadn't eaten for two weeks nor, he could guess, had he slept. The world had came crashing down on his friend's shoulders at the downfall of the Dark Lord. Although Harry disagreed with Voldemort's intentions and plans and was disgusted with his cruelty, Voldemort had still been a fatherly figure to him; he had raised Harry and taught him.

Harry blinked before tears, which he didn't notice nor feel, ran down his cheeks.

Draco gulped, not knowing how Harry would react to his next move. He went in and, closing the door, held the smaller boy. He had never comforted anyone before and this was awkward for him, but he knew Harry needed a lot of support right now. Harry didn't resist but only buried his face into Malfoy's chest. "Let it out, let it out..." Draco whispered soothingly.

It seems as if Harry finally regained part of his senses when he whispered, "He was like a father to me, Draco..."

"I know, I know," Draco replied, in his still soothing voice. "Let it out."

After a while, Harry was breathing more peacefully and Draco assumed he was asleep - the first time in days. Then after a few minutes, Harry whispered, "I'm sorry, Draco...it must've hurt..."

Draco grinned, knowing Harry was talking about his curse on him. It did hurt like crud, next to unbearable, but Draco was a Malfoy - he could take it. He was immensely proud of himself when he didn't scream or let out a sound, not once, in those three days he had suffered. "It's okay, Potter. Just sleep and stop talking."

...............

Three weeks later...

Harry sauntered over to their chosen compartment. His green eyes were shining with happiness and he pulled Draco in with him. He shut the compartment door and let out a sigh of contentment. After a few days of sleep and a few square meals, Harry was up and felt stronger than ever.

Draco looked up into his superior friend's eyes and couldn't help but smile. He hadn't seen Harry smile in such a long time - since after Voldemort's downfall. "What house do you think you'll be in?"

Harry looked thoughtful. "Most likely Slytherin, though Gryffindor and Ravenclaw ain't so bad. Hufflepuff's my least favorite, but I can manage. Let's go check out all the other compartments." He stood up, and Malfoy was only too willing to follow him. The first compartment they came to held Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and Daphne Greengrass. Seeing Harry and Draco, they gave a friendly, polite nod and invited them to join, which the duo declined politely. Continuing on, they reached a compartment to which Draco gave a snort of disgust.

Harry gave him a raised eyebrow. "Behave, Draco."

Draco groaned. "But there's a Mudblood and a blood traitor! Not to mention the..." He was silenced by a look from Harry. Even though he wanted more than anything to protest, he was also quite amazed by how Harry could remained so polite even when approaching a Mudblood. Then again, Harry was always better at controlling his emotions than Malfoy was.

Harry opened the compartment door. "Hello, hope you don't mind if we pop in for a visit."

Draco, forgetting what Harry said, sneered the moment he set eyes on Ron, "Oh, what do we have here? A definite Weasle. Father always told me that the Weasles all have red hair, has freckles, and have more children than they can afford. Oh, and there's a Mudblood and the Boy Who Lived." It was at the Boy Who Lived part that Draco actually seemed to show a sign of outrage, and Harry knew why. Neville had taken Harry's title, the title that the wizarding world should be calling Harry, not Neville. After all, Harry was the first to survive the Killing Curse.

Harry sighed and laid a hand on Draco's shoulder, calming him immediately. "Draco," he said warningly.

Ron sprang to his feet. "Well, if it isn't a Malfoy prat."

"Excuse my friend's manners," Harry began, inclining his head politely. "He's kinda prejudiced." He gave Draco's shoulder a hard squeeze, making Draco turn slightly red, feeling humiliated. Harry sighed, hating to embarrass him in any way, but the boy was just going way past the line. "May I have the honor of knowing your names?"

Ron was still breathing heavily from the insults, but he sat down at Harry's words. "Ron Weasley," he muttered.

Harry nodded and looked at Hermione next.

"Hermione Granger. And you are?"

Harry chuckled. "Harry. Harry Potter." Then he turned to Neville, his voice controlled, "And you must be Neville Longbottom." Though he felt angered at Neville taking Voldemort's life away, he could blame him. After all, he hadn't done anything wrong. "The Boy Who Lived," he whispered, making Neville turn pink. "Oh, and I see you already know Draco Malfoy." He pulled Draco, who had been ignoring the whole introduction, to his side.

Ron snorted. "Yeah. Our families go way back. How can you be friends with him? If you're new to the wizarding world, I'll just tell you that he's a Slytherin."

Harry could feel Draco shifting next to him and replied, "I know, but he's a friend. We were acquainted this summer." His voice had an edge to it, partly due to his annoyance with Ron. Normally, his patience was legendary, but this was ones of the few times that it has worn dangerously thin. Though his voice was calm, some of his annoyance had leaked out. He was particularly touchy whenever someone begins to insult his friend; this was due to how vulnerable he knew Draco was. The blond was extremely vulnerable inside no matter how much of a front he put up, and Harry knows this.

Hermione kicked Ron in the leg. "Ronald Weasley, he's being nice to us, so stop insulting his friend! Have some manners for Merlin's sake!"

Harry smiled at her. "You're a Muggleborn, aren't you?"

"Yeah," she replied, her voice seem to be saying - 'You got a problem with that?'

"Just asking." Harry chuckled at her reaction. Then he turned to Neville and frowned, though the boy was looking at him with friendly eyes. Harry brushed Neville's bangs aside and saw the lightning bolt scar clearly - the same mark on his own forehead. Harry's jaw tightened and he whispered, "We have to leave now. Come on, Draco. Let's go talk to Zabini, Greengrass, and Parkinson as I doubt Crabbe and Goyle will provide decent conversation - intellectually wise." He saw the trio in the compartment smirk at his comment and he said to them, "It's been a pleasure to meet you three." He pulled Draco out but not before he heard Ron saying to Hermione, "Did you see that guy's, Potter's, reaction when he saw Neville? He looked as if he wants to kill him or something. He's scary..."

Hermione had replied, "Honestly, Ron, maybe he wouldn't have reacted so if you hadn't provoked him about Malfoy. Malfoy's a jerk, but he's still his friend, and Potter's nice."

Harry chuckled. He was getting extremely fond with that witch. They got into the same compartment as Zabini, Greengrass, and Parkinson, and they started up a conversation, the Slytherins extremely interested in Harry as he was considered, and basically is, Voldemort's adoptive son.

"Wow, you're extremely...nice for the Dark Lord's son, aren't you?" Zabini asked tentatively, not knowing much about Harry's character.

Harry let out a laugh. "Yeah, I get that a lot." With that, the conversations went smoothly and before they knew it, they were at Hogwarts.

"Firs' years this way!" came a booming voice.

Draco sneered upon seeing the gamekeeper. "Who's that big oaf? He's probably part giant or something."

"Draco, be polite," Harry whispered calmly. "He probably is, though." Then he looked up at Hagrid. "Who're you?"

"Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts. Now who would you be?"

"Harry. Harry Potter." Hagrid blinked. "'scuse me? Can you say that again?"

"Harry Potter!" Harry said louder.

Hagrid peered at him and whispered softly so no one would hear, "Could you really be the son of James and Lily Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess, if their names end with Potter then I guess so."

Hagrid stared at him for a second before nodding. "How were you alive all these years? Their house at Godric's Hollow had been blown up because you-know-who attacked and tried to kill you all!"

Harry paled. Voldemort didn't say anything about this attempted murder when he had asked about his parents. Had his 'father' actually tried to kill him intentionally? Voldemort had said that he had accidentally cast the Killing Curse at him to protect him when someone had tried to kidnap him. Luckily he had survived the unintentional spell. Now that Harry thought of it, it didn't make sense - at least Voldemort's story. How could Harry have survived? Did that mean Voldemort lied to him? However Harry only replied to Hagrid's question with, "I had lived with my aunt and uncle."

They rowed on the boats to Hogwarts and as they approached the great hall, a stern-looking woman stood in front of them. She explained about the houses and points and everything before going inside the hall, leaving them waiting outside. Harry heard Ron saying something about fighting trolls and laughed. When Ron gave him a look, Harry only smiled and replied, "Trust me; we won't be fighting trolls. Some common sense will do you some good, Weasley. If we're going to fight trolls on our very first day, we wouldn't survive! This school would be deserted!" He caught Hermione smiling at him and asked her with genuine curiosity, "What?"

Hermione answered with the same sincerity, "That was a clever answer. You used a lot of logic in it to reason why we wouldn't be fighting trolls."

Harry smiled and his eyes caught something in their peripheral vision. He turned around and saw Draco holding a toad, Neville's, by its legs above his head while the 'Boy Who Lived' was trying to get it from him. Harry personally thought toads were a waste of time and money and, due to his dislike of Neville, was tempted to just let Draco harrass the boy. However, his conscience won in the end...again. He sent his friend a piercing look, and Draco, disappointed, handed Neville back his toad just as Professor McGonagall came out.

They went into the great hall and Harry marveled at its ceiling. I just have to do that on my ceiling, he thought. In front where the teachers sat, he saw Albus Dumbledore, a man who was the exact image of what a muggle would think of when describing a wizard. His eyes twinkled as he looked at the students. No, not the students. He was looking at Harry, his eyes knowing as if he knew what had happened to Harry all these years and what Harry's true parentage was...

Professor McGonagall came to the front with a large scroll. "When I call your name, please come forth. Hannah Abbott!" And the names continue.

Harry zoned out until she called out, "Draco Malfoy!" The moment the hat touched his head, it yelled out, "SLYTHERIN!" Harry smiled, winking at him as he passed. After a while, Professor McGonagall seemed to hesitate at his name, looking confused and slightly shocked. "Harry Potter!" she finally called.

He calmly walked up to the sorting hat and put it on. "Ah, you have the blood of the Founders in your veins. The thirst for knowledge from Ravenclaw, the loyalty of Hufflepuff, the bravery and courage of Gryffindor, and the cleverness and ambition of Slytherin. This is very hard. However, you are pure of heart despite your raising." Harry remembered Draco got sorted into Slytherin, and Draco would be crushed if they weren't in the same house. The two were like brothers. "Sort me into Slytherin. My friend's there, and I want to be in the same house as him."

"You aren't supposed to be sorted into the same house as your friend, Potter. You're supposed to be sorted by your personality and abilities. I would say Gryffindor or Ravenclaw would be more suiting. Your abilities and personality most fitted in Gryffindor..."

"No. I want Slytherin. I don't care if evil wizards came from there or whatever. My friend needs me."

"Loyalty of a Hufflepuff as well. But if you wish...SLYTHERIN!"

Harry grinned and leaped down from the stool, walking over to Draco, who was grinning from cheek to cheek. The rest of the hall only clapped politely. Harry looked up the teacher's table to see Snape, whom he recognized as a spy for Voldemort, gawking at him. Why was that? Then he looked over to the other teachers and saw Professor McGonagall looking slightly shocked and Hagrid looking sad. When he saw Dumbledore, the old wizard only smiled at him, the twinkle in his eyes still not wavering.

After the sorting, Dumbledore waved his wand and food appeared on the tables. Harry piled his plate high, his stomach rumbling as he had skipped breakfast and lunch altogether.

Draco suddenly widened his eyes. "H-Harry, the Bloody..."

Harry turned around and grinned. "Hello, Mr. Bloody Baron. It's a pleasure to meet you. You must be the Slytherin house ghost. I'm Harry Potter and this is my friend Draco. We're first years."

The whole hall suddenly quieted down, staring at Harry as if he had grown two heads. The boy must be crazy to converse with the Bloody Baron as if he was a friend. Draco himself wasn't looking happy as he was introduced. The Bloody Baron stared at Harry before saying, "It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Potter. You should've been sorted into Gryffindor for your bravery of speaking to me."

Harry shrugged. "Should've but the hat didn't." With that, the ghost flew away, and the hall resumed its feasting. "This year looks to be interesting, Draco?"

"Yeah, but I want to torture Longbottom a little. He's a prat."

Harry sighed, deciding telling Draco otherwise is like "preaching to the dead". "Strange, though, isn't it? You have Ravenclaw, whose symbol is a raven; Slytherin, whose symbol, the serpent, slithers on the ground; and Gryffindor, whose name takes partly after the griffin, which is close to its house symbol, the lion. But then you have Hufflepuff. It's kinda random, is it not?"

Draco snorted. "If I got sorted into Hufflepuff, I'd think I'd leave, don't you?"

The table nearest to them, the Hufflepuffs, glared at the Slytherin before one of them, Justin Finch-Fletchley, called to Malfoy, "Better in Hufflepuff than Slytherin!"

Malfoy sneered. "I'd rather be smart than loyal thank you very much. You wanna die saving your friends, go ahead. I think I'd survive, unlike you morons."

Harry glared at Malfoy before stepping in, saying to the Hufflepuffs, "Sorry about him. Hufflepuff really isn't so bad. I was just saying your house name sounded kinda random, at least compared to the other houses. Not trying to offend you or anything though. I'm just making a comment. Think nothing of it."

Justin calmed down and replied, "No offense taken. You're kinda nice for a Slytherin, aren't you?"

"Slytherins are supposed to be sneaky and clever. Of course I sound nice. Wait until I backstab you though. I won't be so nice then," Harry replied, smirking but giving Justin a wink to let him know that he was just joking. He saw Zabini in front of him asked, shocked, "Are you talking to them, Potter?" Harry rolled his eyes at Zabini and replied, "Blaise, Blaise, Blaise, for Merlin's sake, the houses have to get along one day. Besides, they were all friends at some point in history. Might as well get together again. We're all witches and wizards here."

Then Draco whispered to him, "But Finch-Fletchley is a Mudblood! He's not supposed to have the same status as us purebloods. We're the true wizards and witches."

Harry glared at him. He may not know much about how his parents died, but he did know this much. "Before you start insulting my late mother, Draco, you should remember that both Voldemort and I are half-bloods!"

Draco blinked. "You're a half-blood? I thought both your parents were purebloods, wizard and witch like us!"

"My mother's a muggleborn," Harry replied coolly. "And I don't want to hear the word 'Mudblood' ever again...from you or anybody else. I don't care if Voldemort says it or whatever. Unless you want to get hexed, I suggest you limit the term to 'muggleborn'." Then he blinked, realizing the hall was quiet again. His cheeks turned slightly pink and he turned to his food. After dinner, they followed their prefect to their dormitories, Draco quiet all the way.

Once they got into their dorms, Draco approached Harry and said, not looking into his eyes, "Sorry about insulting your mother, Harry. I didn't know..."

Harry sighed. "I know you're raised like that, so I'm sorry for losing my temper with you, too. It's just...no matter what blood my mother is, she's still my mother. Without her, I wouldn't be here. I don't know what my mother's like, but I guess I still have feelings for her. You know, a connection family-wise. I have never met her, but we're still family, and our bond still exists, no matter how faint and weak it is through death."

Draco nodded. "So, will you ever forgive me?"

"I'll always forgive you. You're my little dragon."

....................

Throughout the weeks at Hogwarts, Harry was clearly the top student in every subject he had encountered. During classes, instead of actually paying attention, he read books on all types of subjects, keeping his ears open in case the teacher calls on him. Even Professor Mcgonagall, who has a slight prejudice against Slytherins, adored him. To her, he was a perfect example for students - polite, studious, and friendly in all environments.

All the teachers loved him - with the exception of Snape though Harry had no idea why. He ignored him for most of the time. Of course, there was also Professor Quirrell, whom Harry thought always smelled like garlic. Harry personally thought the poor professor was annoying with his stuttering and that he knew practically nothing about the subject he teaches - Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry had read a lot about the subject and was a natural at it, perhaps even more so than the Dark Arts, which had been mainly taught to him by Voldemort. When Harry told Draco about his point of view, Draco just shrugged and replied, "He's a nutter. That's why we're blessed with the brains. So that we could learn these stuff on our own as our teacher obviously doesn't know what the crud he's doing."

As for friends, you could say Harry was extremely popular. After the conversation with the Hufflepuffs the other day, Harry made a lot of friends with the house, who ignored the fact that he was a Slytherin. He also studied a lot in the library with the Ravenclaws and as he knew a lot about the subjects they were taught, he tutored some of his Ravenclaw friends. In his own house, he was best friends with Zabini, Greengrass, and of course Malfoy. To the Gryffindors, they saw him mainly as only a sneaky Slytherin, but then Hermione opened up to him a bit and from there on, they formed a strong friendship, nearly as strong as the bond between him and Draco. Because of this, the Gryffindors warmed up to him more than the other Slytherins. However, all his new friends were second to Draco. They were like brothers and nothing could separate them. Eventually the duo joined together with Hermione (whom Draco only tolerated for Harry's sake), who Harry had grown extremely fond of.

There was also Harry's shared mischievousness with the Weasley twins. He loved their fun-loving ways and joined them in some of their pranks and shenanigans, though he was always careful to avoid being caught - so as to stay on the teachers' good side.

Then there came the day of flying lessons with Madame Hooch.

"Up!" Harry said, willing the broom to come up. The broom flew up to his hand and he grinned, feeling the touch of the wood in his hand. He was meant for flying, to be in the air. He was borne to be free.

"Now mount your brooms, and when I blow the whistle, you will kick off from the ground. Ready? Mr. Longbottom, get down this instant!"

Harry stared as Neville lifted off from the ground. Neville's eyes were filled with fear and his grip wasn't steady. The boy obviously was not meant to fly. The Slytherins were laughing while the Gryffindors were wide-eyed with horror at the thought of what will happen to their housemate. "Longbottom, hold the broom steady!" he yelled out. He wasn't one to like the boy, but he wasn't going to let someone get hurt if he can help it. However, Neville seemed oblivious to his advice. Groaning with frustration, Harry did the only thing he could do to save the boy. He mounted his own broom and kicked off. Neville's broom was trying to buck him off at hundred feet above ground level while at the same time climbing higher and higher into the air.

"Mr. Potter, get down here this instant!"

"Harry, didn't you hear what Madame Hooch said?" he could hear Hermione called out to him, but he ignored her.

Using his instincts, he bent over to gain speed and, not a moment too late, caught Neville just as he was falling down from his broom. It was a narrow catch as he caught the boy just seven feet above the ground with both hands. His broom nearly tipped over at the sudden excess weight and the momentum. "Great Merlin, Longbottom, did you hear what I said about holding the broom steady?" he growled. "If I get into detention for this, you are so dead..." However, Neville promptly fainted.

"Mr. Potter!"

Harry groaned. Now, not only does he receive detention from Madame Hooch but Professor McGonagall as well? What the heck? Really, his luck couldn't get worse.

"Mr. Potter!"

He spoke too soon. Snape was approaching him, too. He felt the urge to faint just like Neville. Madame Hooch approached him and gave him a calculating look, picking up Neville as she did so, and Harry felt as if he was watched by a hawk. The two Hogwarts professors approached him; Snape's face was emotionless while Minerva's was a stern countenance.

"Minerva, he's in my house. I'll take care of this..."

"Severus, I want to see something first." Professor McGonagall conjured up a small ball no larger than a baseball. "Mr. Potter, see if you can catch this..." She flicked her wand and the ball sped over the grounds.

Harry instinctively mounted and sped after it, twenty seconds later catching the ball and returning it to the Gryffindor head. Professor McGonagall turned to Snape and said, "I think you have found your house a Seeker, Severus." Then she walked away, sighing and whispering under her breath, "Looks like Slytherin's going to win the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup this year again. Last time, I couldn't bear facing Severus in the face for days."

Harry chuckled but then felt a slight guilty feeling. Your abilities and personality most fitted in Gryffindor... Harry would rather get sorted into Gryffindor than Slytherin, but he just couldn't leave Draco and disappoint Voldemort - had he been alive. Though he had made friends with some Slytherins, they were just too cold in personality for him. He loved the atmosphere the other houses produced, the friendliness, and the warmth. This was shown to him with how Hermione and the Weasley twins treated him. They were warm and welcoming, never cold. Draco had felt the same way after spending a day in their common room; this was why the duo would rarely talk to anyone inside their house outside of each other.

"Mr. Potter, I'll talk to you after class," Snape said coolly.

"Yes, Sir."