1. The Magician

Harry Potter had learnt, from a very early age, that no one would take care of him if he did not take care of himself. It was a lonely philosophy to be sure, but it suited a lonely boy whose father was rarely home. The servants took care of his basic needs, his meals and his attire, but not with any tender affection. Sitting alone in the splendid but cold manor, Harry sometimes felt as if he was being suffocated by silence.

School was different, however. Harry could get lost easily in the lessons, which ranged from magical plants to classical history, with friends that he had known since early childhood. The school was even expecting a guest professor from Hogwarts this week, to give a preparatory talk before the upper year graduated to walk through those hallowed halls. The entire school was bubbling over with excited energy, especially the final year students.

Harry was one of them. He had locked down tight on his excitement however, out of consideration to the newly arrived muggleborn students who looked very lost and confused.

All except one.

"May I borrow Finch-Fletchley for a moment?" he asked, extricating the lone muggleborn boy from the group of pureblood peers that he had found himself surrounded by.

"Harry dear! We were just giving the new student some good advice," Pansy Parkinson simpered, her pug-like scowl turning into fawning adoration upon seeing who had interrupted her, "he really has joined so incredibly late, I wonder if he'll survive the first week of Hogwarts!"

Harry forced a smile in response, "Thank you, Pansy. I'll take over it from here. I think Draco was looking for you over by the greenhouse, and we both know how impatient he is."

Pansy blushed immediately at the news, all thoughts of further protest flying from her head as she hurriedly took her leave. It was a kind lie, and he had no doubt Draco would be wrathful in his revenge later at having to entertain the girl's obsessive tendencies. However, Harry turned his attention to the boy who was walking unaffectedly towards him.

Justin Finch-Fletchley. He was a conundrum. Most latecomer muggleborn students kept to themselves or stuck to their assigned student representatives, but Finch-Fletchley had turned the tables of such expected behaviour completely. In the three days he had been here, he had managed to charm half the school and thoroughly offend the other half with his brazenness. It was a misfortune that most of those who disliked him would be his year-mates in Hogwarts come September.

"We both know he can't stand her," Justin remarked, completely unruffled by his previous entanglement, "I don't know why you bothered."

Harry could understand why his classmates disliked him. Justin's chest was puffed up proudly, he had a constant air of superiority with no noble relatives or knowledge of wizarding culture to explain his arrogance. He behaved with irreproachable decorum, but he possessed the unassailable self-confidence of a child who had been spoiled with affection since he was very young.

Despite his muggleborn status, he had no intention of toadying up to the purebloods to get ahead in his studies. Harry had been fascinated by his behaviour and had found it refreshing. He had not been the only one. In a suffocating environment where the future Lords and Ladies of the Wizarding World were being schooled and bred for power, in had blown this complete Natural. He affected no pretences, was unintimidated by nobility and insisted on making his presence through sheer willpower.

Despite everything, Harry found himself wanting to look out for him.

"Honesty without tact is cruelty," Harry reminded his newest classmate gently, "Draco knows that the Parkinson family is part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and their families have had direct business dealings in the recent past which could have an impact on their future relationship. You didn't know this, but now that you do, don't you feel that you spoke thoughtlessly just now?"

Justin absorbed everything he just said greedily, a thoughtful and intelligent expression in his eyes. Harry had noted his voracious appetite for knowledge, which was reassuring. Not every child of Hogwarts survived to become a full-fledged member of wizarding society. Perhaps Justin would learn quickly enough to make it.

"You really have turned gossip into an art form," Justin remarked, not unkindly, "you must be a big help to your family."

Harry suppressed the instinctual flinch at the mention of his family. His father had always been distant, but lately, it had been days at a time before he returned to the manor. When he did return, his rumpled clothes always had a strong scent of some musky perfume that Harry had never smelt before. He was not stupid, he knew what this meant. They never spoke, and when they did, his father would never meet his eyes. Late at night when he was small, Harry would wander the halls of his ancestral manor, wondering if he was a boy or a ghost.

Of course, Justin knew none of that, and it was not his fault. Harry knew that, but it still felt as though he had been slapped.

"And surely you must be as much of a disappointment to your family as much as Potter is a credit to his," came a familiar drawl from behind him. Harry could have hugged his blond head in sheer relief for distracting him from the suffocating situation.

"Malfoy."

"Finch-Fletchley," Draco countered, "why your family bothered to string together two completely insignificant houses into one name is simply beyond me."

"And why your family named you after a dragon when you're nothing but a slimy lizard, is also beyond me," Justin retorted coolly, but Harry could tell from his flushed cheeks that he was angry. Two high spots of pink appeared on Draco's cheeks as he opened his mouth to spit more poisonous words out. Harry knew if he didn't intervene now, it would end up as more than just a verbal brawl.

"Alright," he said softly, "I think that's enough. Draco, that was uncalled for. Justin, you didn't have to rise to it." The both of them looked about ready to protest but kept quiet. Harry was a student representative and he was already doing them both a favour by not reporting the incident.

Abraxus Preparatory Academy was very strict on maintaining good relationships between muggleborn and pureblood students to properly integrate new blood into wizarding society. Most muggleborns in the United Kingdom were located and recommended to enter the school at age 3 to promote integration with pureblood children. Some parents chose to act against advice, however, only allowing their children to attend the mandatory 1-week preparatory lessons for Hogwarts. This gave rise to severe culture clash like what Justin was experiencing.

Besides, they both knew that infighting would not reflect well on them. Lord Malfoy would absolutely give Draco a bollocking if the news got out that his son was bullying a defenceless new muggleborn student. Justin would earn himself no admiration from fighting with the most influential student in the school.

"Fine," Justin spat, shooting a venomous look at Draco, "sorry, Harry." The boy flounced off, probably to lick his wounds with an admiring girl from their year.

Harry felt himself soften a little at the muttered apology. He turned to Draco, "I suppose it's too much to expect an apology from you to him?"

"A Malfoy never apologises," Draco said haughtily, "Finch-Fletchley needs to learn his place in the pecking order. Everyone is complaining about him. You should do something about it before an upper year takes offence in Hogwarts. Also, you owe me for setting Pansy on my trail! It took me ages to shake her off."

Draco didn't mince his words as he complained and nagged like a housewife, but Harry knew that underneath all the bluster, he secretly cared a little for their outspoken muggleborn classmate.

"I'll speak to him properly about it after the professor gives his lecture tomorrow. Do you know who it is this year?" Harry asked. He watched as Draco's chest swelled with pride at the question, secretly smiling to himself.

"It's Professor Severus Snape, the most renowned potions master in Europe and my godfather!" Draco declared proudly, "I can't believe he's coming to our little prep school to give the welcome talk. I think it must be due to Father telling him I'm here."

Draco would splutter indignantly at the thought, but Harry secretly thought that he and Justin were very much alike. Perhaps that was the reason why they clashed so often. Both were singularly the centres of their own worlds, convinced that everyone in their lives revolved around them. Their magnetic personalities ensured that this was true.

Harry tuned the rest of Draco's godfather idolation out and turned his thoughts to other matters. His father had requested that he come to his study after dinner, which meant that they would have dinner together. He didn't know if he was looking forward to it or dreading it. Anticipation coiled in his stomach like a venomous snake.

"You're thinking about tonight, aren't you?"

Harry was startled out of his thoughts completely by the unexpected question. Draco looked at him with a look of such understanding and curiosity in his eyes that was so quintessentially Draco, that Harry couldn't help but laugh and slip his hand into his friend's hand, squeezing it fiercely. Draco crushed his hand back just as painfully.

"When Father wants to speak to me sometimes, I'm also petrified. Don't worry, Harry, I understand," he said, slinging a reassuring arm around Harry's shoulders.

Harry bit his tongue before he could say something he would regret because Draco would never understand. He had never met a child who was more loved than his friend, with his mother constantly fussing over him and his father's looks of restrained pride at his heir and constant indulgences. Sometimes when his father looked at him, Harry wondered if he felt anything at all.

Of course, he could never say anything like this to Draco, who was always so painfully bright and happy. He would never understand, and Harry hoped that he never would.

"I'll be fine," Harry said with a smile, "I'm sure everything will be fine. I'm looking forward to it."

Draco looked at him seriously. "I don't know who you're trying to convince, but I'm sure that not even you believed in what you just said. When I reach my majority, I'm adopting you into my family and that is that."

Harry shoved Draco playfully, a smile unwittingly appearing on his face at the outlandish statement that only he could pull off. "House Malfoy will never absorb House Potter," he smirked, "by the time I reach my majority, it'll be you begging to join me."

"We'll see about that! You're awfully cocky as an heir to a family who isn't even part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight!" Draco snarked, and their conversation devolved into childish mocking and cruel laughter.

It was only after the peal of the final bell had rung to signify the end of school that Harry's nervousness returned, poised to bite his heart like a viper.