Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As the Hogwarts Express began to slowly pull out of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, Harry Potter stood by the window of his compartment, his heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. The rhythmic chug of the train and the soft hum of conversation from nearby compartments filled the air, signalling the start of a journey that would change his life forever.

Outside the window, the platform buzzed with activity as the last students, who had been bidding farewell to their families until the last minute, hurried to get on the train before it was too late. Harry caught sight of his parents amidst the throng, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of the lanterns. Lily and James Potter stood side by side, their expressions a mix of pride and sadness as they watched their only son embark on his first journey to Hogwarts.

With a wave and a smile, Harry locked eyes with his parents, a surge of emotion swelling in his chest. He knew that he was leaving behind the familiar comforts of home, but he also knew that this was the beginning of a new adventure - one that he had been eagerly awaiting for years.

As the train picked up speed, Harry turned away from the window and glanced around his compartment, taking in the scene before him. His trunk sat at the foot of his seat, packed to the brim with his belongings, while an empty seat opposite him beckoned invitingly.

Feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness, Harry settled into his seat, his mind abuzz with thoughts of the wonders that awaited him at Hogwarts. The memories of his father's words were also echoing in his mind. He leaned against the window of his compartment, staring out at the passing scenery, his thoughts drifting back to the moment they had hugged on the platform.

He could still feel the warmth of his father's embrace, the pride and love that radiated from him as they bid each other farewell. And he could still hear the whispered words of advice that his father had imparted to him in that fleeting moment.

'Remember, Harry,' James had said, his voice tinged with a mixture of pride and mischief, 'keep the spirit of the Marauders alive. Don't be afraid to bend the rules, have lots of fun, and maybe even stir up a bit of trouble now and then.'

Harry couldn't help but smile at the memory, the familiar twinkle of mischief in his father's eyes etched into his mind. He knew that his father had always been a bit of a troublemaker in his own right, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of kinship with him as he embarked on his own journey at Hogwarts. He didn’t think he had it in him to go looking for trouble, especially since he was nervous about being the new kid at school. He also knew his mother would have his head if he managed to get caught in detention, but it was still funny to pretend he could become as popular, charismatic and loved as his father had been in his Hogwarts years.

Just then, the compartment door slid open, revealing two unfamiliar faces - a bushy-haired girl with a stack of books tucked under her arm, and a red-haired boy with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Harry's heart leapt with interest as he watched them enter the compartment.

‘Hello,’ the girl exclaimed, her gaze curious. 'Mind if we join you? It looks like every other compartment is full.'

‘Of course!’ Harry replied eagerly, gesturing for them to take a seat. 'I was just getting settled in. I'm Harry, by the way.'

‘I'm Ron,’ the red-haired boy replied, taking a seat opposite Harry. 'And this is Hermione.'

‘It's nice to meet you both’ Harry said, offering them a warm smile.

Despite being excited about the prospect of possibly meeting his first friends at Hogwarts, Harry also felt awkward under their scrutiny. He could feel that both of them wanted to say something. Hermione could barely restrain herself from asking whatever she wanted to ask. She probably thought it would come across as rude, but her not saying anything was making Harry uncomfortable, so he raised an eyebrow in hopes they would just get it over with.

‘What year are you in? I don’t think we’ve met before.’ She finally asked when it seemed like she couldn’t hold it anymore.

‘Sixth year. And that’s because I’m a new student.'

'We are sixth years too! How come were you transferred?' Ron asked, his curiosity piqued by Harry's sudden appearance after five years.

'I was homeschooled my whole life,' Harry explained, his voice tinged with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. 'My parents had some very bad experiences with dark wizards and preferred to have me at home, where they could protect me should something happen.'

Of course, nothing had ever happened. Nor to the Potters, nor to any student at Hogwarts. It had been years since the last official Death Eater capture and the ones who hadn’t been found didn’t seem interested in making themselves known by attacking anyone or dealing with dark magic. 

However, after the Potters had had to go into hiding because of a prophecy that claimed their then one-year-old son Harry was destined to end Voldemort -which was, later on, proved to be nonsense, as Dumbledore himself killed him- and after they were betrayed by their close friend Peter Pettigrew, they hadn’t wanted to take any chances. Yes, they had managed to escape unscathed, but two people had failed them that night: Pettigrew and Dumbledore, who hadn’t been able to protect them enough. So, by the time Harry had turned eleven, they had been very reluctant about sending him to Hogwarts under Dumbledore’s protection, even after Voldemort’s death. 

Harry couldn’t blame them, but it still had pissed him off at the time because he had never been as excited as the day he received his Hogwarts letter, only to be taken away from him by his own parents.

'But there’s no safer place than Hogwarts!' Hermione interjected.

Ron snorted and she shot him a dirty look. 'I mean… I know everyone says that, but have you suddenly forgotten about the moving stairs, the Giant Squid, the forbidden forest with its fucking giant spiders and-'

Harry could feel himself starting to become paler. His parents might have been onto something, after all.

'Ok, yeah, but there is no real life-threatening danger,' Hermione hastily interrupted, eager to dispel Harry's growing concerns. 'Not if you don’t do stupid things, but that’s hardly the staff’s fault. No one has died in more than fifty years, after all.’ That didn’t sound reassuring either – 50 years wasn’t that much time – but Harry didn’t comment so Hermione went on ‘And anyway, Hogwarts’ wards are the safest out of all the wizarding schools. You’d know it if you had read Hogwarts: A History.'

'Yeah, yeah, yeah. We all know you’re in love with that book Hermione,' Ron teased, a playful smirk on his face. Harry somehow got the feeling that their dynamic was always like this, bickering like an old married couple. He wondered if he would be third-wheeling if he became their friend. Ron continued with his teasing, 'No one, and I mean no one, in this school except you has read it.'

'You don’t know that,' Hermione retorted, a hint of defensiveness in her tone. 'I’m sure most of the Ravenclaws have read it. The rest of you are simply comfortable being uncultured.'

'Or maybe we don’t have time for reading books about school,' Ron countered, his tone light but firm. 'Honestly, I have enough with the books we have to read for class. Anyway, I still think your parents were exaggerating, mate. There haven’t been any dark wizard attacks since You-Know-Who was defeated more than ten years ago.'

Harry nodded in agreement, grateful for Ron's attempt to ease his worries. 'I know. They were being paranoid, if you ask me. But I've always wanted to study in Hogwarts and this summer I convinced them that I'd get way better grades in my N.E.W.T.s if I could be taught by real professors.'

'I completely agree with you, education is paramount,' Hermione chimed in, her voice sincere. 'I'm sure your parents are very capable wizards, don't get me wrong, but there is no way you'll have it easier to achieve N.E.W.T. level skills with their help rather than learning from professionals in that field.'

'Yeah, I guess,' Harry conceded, feeling a sense of validation in Hermione's words. 'I just wanted an excuse to come to Hogwarts. Now I need to get good marks, though.'

Hermione immediately offered her support, her expression earnest. 'I'll help you study, don't worry. We can go to the library tomorrow evening.'

Harry shared a worried look with Ron then. He wanted to get good marks for once, but he wasn’t about to spend every living hour in the library. He had never studied much and still passed everything. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that his parents wouldn’t let him fail, spending as much time as necessary in explanations until Harry got everything, but anyway. If it was normal for Hogwarts students to live in the library, maybe it hadn’t been that great of an idea to go there. Luckily for him, Ron seemed just as taken aback by Hermione’s willingness to start studying that early in the year as himself.

‘What? The year hasn't even started and you already want to go to the library?ʼ Ron looked at her in disbelief ‘That must be a record even for you. Harry, don't go with her if you want to have a life. Trust me.’

She looked offended and crossed her arms.

‘Honestly, Ronald! You can have a perfectly good life and still study.’

‘Yeah, but you overdo it.’ Ron too realised he might have said something wrong so he quickly elaborated, trying to make it better ‘I mean, it works for you, you’re obviously the best at every class, so that's great but I personally couldn't spend that much time studying. My head would explode!’

Hermione still looked pissed off, only a little bit less, so Harry decided to help Ron out before the fight escalated. After all, he had been kind enough to Harry that whole time.

‘I think I'd like to go to the library sometime.’ He assured Hermione, which gained him a smile ‘But not just now. I'll tell you whenever I feel like going, Hermione.’

‘Sure, Harry. I'm sure you're a better study partner than Ron here.’ She remarked a bit bitterly ‘He doesn't ever shut up.’

‘I'm great companionship! And I can be quiet too if I want to.’

‘If you say so.’

‘Yeah, I say so!’

Harry grinned because even if they continued bickering for a really long time, it wasn’t ill-meaned at all as he had feared. That was just how they talked to each other and they probably were having fun.

Suddenly, Harry's stomach grumbled loudly, prompting him to voice his hunger. 'When will the lady with the trolley come here? I'm starving,' he exclaimed, a hint of impatience in his tone.

'Don't know. I have some sandwiches here if you want one,' Ron offered, reaching into his bag and pulling out a wrapped bundle.

'Thanks, mate. Appreciate it. But I really want a chocolate frog right now. It's been ages since I last ate one,' Harry replied eagerly, his mouth watering at the thought of the sweet treat.

'She must be about to pass by, but you can go look for her if you're that hungry,' Hermione suggested, her attention still focused on her book.

'Yeah, that's what I'll do. Do any of you want something?' Harry asked as he got up.

Hermione simply shook her head and opened one of the books she had carried with her. Harry didn't understand the title, as it was written in a strange language, but he reckoned it had something to do with runes. 

Ron didn't answer for a long time, probably debating whether he was hungry enough to buy something from the trolley. The sweets the old lady sold were more expensive than the ones you could find in little shops, after all. 

'I have no money for sweets,' He finally confessed, sounding a mix of embarrassed and frustrated, and decidedly not looking at Harry. 

'I'll pay for it. Don't worry. We can share your sandwiches and whatever I buy,' Harry assured him, a generous smile on his face.

'Oh, okay. I'll go with you then,' Ron agreed, rapidly cheering up. He got up as well, and after they had asked Hermione if she was sure she didn't want anything, they started their trolley hunt.

Harry and Ron made their way down the narrow corridor of the train, their shoulders bumping, until the figure of the trolley lady was visible. Harry grinned at the prospect of getting as many sweets as he wanted without his parents’ supervision for once and he quicked his pace, but he soon noticed Ron wasn’t following him anymore.

Harry looked at him expectantly, but Ron wasn’t looking at him. He was looking past Harry in the direction of the trolley with evident disgust on his face. Harry looked at the trolley too, because he wanted to know what or who had provoked such a reaction from Ron. 

Three students, whom Harry had never seen before, stood by the trolley loaded with sweets. At the forefront stood a boy with striking platinum-blond hair and piercing silver eyes. He exuded an aura of confidence and authority, his gaze fixed softly on the chocolates as if they held some special allure for him. Despite Harry's unfamiliarity with him, he couldn't help but notice the boy's undeniable handsomeness, a magnetism that seemed to draw Harry's gaze involuntarily. Beside him, a girl with long, dark hair hovered closely, her movements almost hesitant as she reached out to touch his arm, her eyes shining with admiration and longing.

It was clear to Harry that this girl held a certain reverence for the boy, her actions mirroring those of a loyal follower. She seemed to gravitate around him, her presence almost magnetic as she leaned in close, her words whispered in hushed tones as if sharing a secret between them.

And then there was another boy, tall, lean, and exceptionally handsome too. His expression was one of childlike wonder as he gazed at the array of chocolates before him, which were the same tone as his skin. Despite the closeness between the other two students, he seemed lost in his own world, his attention captivated by the tantalizing treats laid out before him.

As Harry observed from a distance, he couldn't help but feel a sense of intrigue at the dynamic between the three students. There was an undeniable closeness between them, a bond that seemed to transcend mere friendship. And though Harry couldn't quite put his finger on it, there was something about their interactions that left him feeling both curious and unsettled.

'Malfoy,' Ron finally muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with disgust. Harry had to make an effort to tear his gaze away from them and look at him. He was still looking at Malfoy, whoever that one was out of those three.

'What? Who's Malfoy?' Harry asked, still puzzled by Ron's change in demeanour. 

'That blond over there. And he's with Parkinson and Zabini too. Fuck. I'm sorry mate, but I'm not hungry anymore,' Ron explained, his shoulders slumping in defeat. Without another word, Ron turned around and made his way to their compartment.

Confusion flickered across Harry's face as he tried to make sense of Ron's words. 'What the heck just happened?' he questioned to himself, his brow furrowing in confusion. He followed Ron back to the compartment after sending one last glance to the trio. 

'The plastics are buying sweets right now,' Ron was explaining to Hermione when Harry reentered the compartment. It was evident she wasn’t happy that Ron and Harry had come back without the sweets, although she hadn’t wanted any.

'So? Since when do we not do things because of the plastics?' She asked, with a huge frown on her face.

'It's too early for a confrontation, Hermione. I'm in no mood. Honestly, only looking at Malfoy’s pointy face made me want to puke,' Ron admitted, his voice laced with bitterness.

Harry, finally getting they were not going back for sweets any time now, decided to sit back on his seat.

'I’m lost.’ He confessed, his confusion growing by the minute ‘Why would there be a confrontation? Who are the plastics and why do you call them that?' 

Ron and Hermione shared a look and then he began to explain the dynamics of Hogwarts’ social circles to Harry. 'Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini are the plastics. The ones we just saw by the trolley lady.'

'We call them the plastics because they're shiny, fake, and hard. They are like high school royalty. They like to think they are, that is. We can’t stand them,' Hermione added, her tone filled with disdain.

'But why?' Harry questioned, intrigued by the intense dislike his new friends held for these students he hadn't even met yet.

'They're the worst Slytherins you'll ever meet, and that's saying something,' Hermione explained, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice.

Ron chimed in, 'Blaise Zabini is one of the dumbest boys in this whole school, competing with Crabbe and Goyle.' 

Harry still didn't understand how that explained Ron's reaction nor did he know who Crabbe and Goyle were, and it must have shown in his face because Ron continued with his rant: 'I mean, I'm not the smartest guy out there, but even I know orange doesn't have a 'd' in it'

Harry looked at Hermione for confirmation that Ron wasn’t making that up, but she nodded as if it hurt her that someone could have such spelling mistakes. 

She continued, 'He's honestly just looks, and he's popular because his mom has made a fortune out of killing her rich ex-husbands and inheriting their money.'

Harry's eyes widened in shock. 'What? That's crazy. Shouldn't she be in Azkaban?'

'Technically, all of her ex-husbands have died of natural causes. But everyone knows she killed them,' Ron added, his tone grim.

'Yeah. And Blaise loves the attention,' Hermione remarked, her voice tinged with disgust. She then went on to describe Pansy Parkinson, 'She's totally rich too and a complete bitch. She knows everything about everyone and she's not above blackmailing.'

'She follows Malfoy everywhere and does everything he wants. I heard they are childhood friends, but she obviously wants to be something more,' Ron added, his disdain evident. 

Harry snorted. He had got that impression too only by looking at them once.

'Honestly, he's perfect for her. I don't know why they aren't engaged by now. After all, evil takes human form in Draco Malfoy,' Hermione quipped dramatically. Harry raised an eyebrow. 

'He might seem like your typical arrogant, backstabbing Slytherin bully, but he’s way more than that,' She added, after a beat. Her tone was serious, her eyes flashing. 

Harry's interest was picked. He wondered what Draco Malfoy had done to be considered evil incarnate. He hadn’t seemed out of the ordinary just a few moments ago.

‘His father was a Death Eater until You-Know-Who’s defeat, when he claimed to have been acting under the Imperius curse.’ Ron cleared and Harry’s eyes widened. That was serious stuff ‘That’s bullocks. And Draco shares his values and if You-Know-Who was still alive, he would surely follow his father’s footsteps.’

‘Not only that.’ Hermione added grimly ‘Lucius Malfoy is a very influential person in the Ministry and he’s also head of the school board. He sacked a teacher because Draco Malfoy was stupid enough to get injured by doing exactly what the professor had told us not to do. You don’t want him coming after you.’

Harry frowned. He didn’t understand how an ex-Death Eater could have so much power. It made him sick to even think about it. There was something very wrong with the Ministry of Magic or the society on the whole, he decided.

‘Malfoy will use any excuse to bring his father up, he’s a total daddy’s boy.’ Ron mentioned with a mocking smirk ‘And a git. He has a gift to rile people up and he knows how to have the whole school on his feet. Even the professors.’

Hermione was shaking her head, which reassured Harry a bit. Apparently, she didn’t agree with Ron. Maybe he was exaggerating how much power Draco Malfoy had in the school, it was hard to believe for Harry that half of what they were saying was real. But he hadn’t ever been to a real school before so who knew?

'He’s a narcissist, he doesn't need you saying those things about him, Ron. You'll only boast his already ginormous ego. And people only favour him because they’re scared of him. I would hardly call that a talent.' Hermione countered, her voice firm.

'You know that’s not true. He’s feared and loved in equal measure.’ Ron argued, his tone defensive. ‘Girls literally throw themselves at his feet! I’ve seen it, it’s ridiculous. And if rumours are to be believed, he’s already slept with half the girls in our year. How would he have done that if he wasn’t at least admired?' 

Hermione sneered at the mention of the amount of girls Draco Malfoy had slept with. Harry found the comment a bit out of place too.

'He’s desired , not admired. Because he’s very good-looking, that’s it. Even I can admit that.’ Hermione retorted, her voice tinged with disgust and Ron averted his gaze and clenched his jaw at Hermione’s opinion on Malfoy’s looks. She was too focused on winning their argument to notice ‘But he’s the worst, there’s no way someone could actually love him.' 

Ron easily agreed to that last part, but Harry was left thinking about his cousin Dudley. He was a muggle and despised magic just like his parents, despite Dudley's mother being Harry's very magical mother's sister (or maybe because of that), but they had still met a couple of times if only for Harry and Dudley to decide for themselves if they wanted to have any kind of relationship with their cousin or not. Harry hadn't ever liked him. He was a bully if he had ever seen one.

At first glance, Dudley seemed like a force of nature, all brutish strength and loud demands. He exuded an air of entitlement that made even the most mundane interactions feel like a battle of wills. His penchant for picking on others, including Harry himself, was as predictable as the rising sun. Then there was Dudley's insatiable appetite, a bottomless pit that seemed to define him as much as his bullying tendencies. Harry couldn't help but marvel at the sheer volume of food the boy could put away, as if he were in a perpetual state of hunger that could never be satisfied. Harry wouldn't describe Dudley as handsome either. In fact, Harry had always thought Dudley's appearance matched perfectly his horrible personality. He wasn't even smart, which some people might value when looking for a partner.

But despite all of that, he had a girlfriend that he seemed to adore. And if his cousin was to be believed, she loved him just as much. So why couldn’t someone like Malfoy, even if most of what Hermione and Ron said was true, find his true love one day?

'It takes all sorts to make a world.’ He shrugged, feeling a mixture of apprehension and curiosity about meeting these infamous figures. As Harry sensed Ron and Hermione were ready to start babbling about Malfoy’s unforgivable sins again, he added ‘But he does sound like an arsehole, I'll give you that.' 

‘He is.’ Ron easily agreed ‘Honestly, you would be better off if you didn't interact with any of them. Not only the plastics, the Slytherins in general.'

'Oh, yeah. I have to be sorted. I've been told about that, but I honestly don't know much about the Houses apart from the fact that there's Gryffindor - my parents and their friends' house -, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin,' Harry admitted, his brow furrowed in thought.

'What? You don't know anything else? Whatever house you end up in will be crucial for your social life, you shouldn't take it lightly!' Hermione exclaimed, her voice filled with urgency. Harry got the feeling she had researched the four houses profoundly before her first year. She probably had.

He shrugged, seeming unbothered. 'It's not that big of a deal, is it? It only determines what dorms I'll sleep in and what timetable I'll have, doesn't it?' he countered, his tone tinged with scepticism.

He looked at Ron, expecting him to agree but to his surprise he was looking at him with a baffled expression. 

'No, mate. Hermione is right. Your house defines who you are.’ He said, and Harry knew he believed it ‘Obviously, each person is different, but house stereotypes are there for a reason,'

Hermione nodded firmly. 'You do know the minimum at least, right?' Harry didn't say anything, not really knowing what "the minimum" was, so she hurried to explain 'Smart, curious and creative people go to Ravenclaw. Abnegate people who value hard work end up in Hufflepuff. Bold, courageous, adventurous and, I must say, mostly impulsive people with little to no respect for rules go to Gryffindor. And then there’s Slytherin.’ She paused, likely thinking about any nice traits the house was linked to and failing ‘Well, I guess they’re ambitious, cunning and self-preservative.'

'Evil, the lot of them,' Ron interjected, shooting a meaningful glance at Harry.

Harry frowned slightly, recalling his own experiences. He didn’t know about the rest of the Death Eaters, but he knew the man who had betrayed his parents had been a Gryffindor and not a Slytherin. 

'I wouldn't say all of them, but… I would highly recommend against going to Slytherin if you get to choose,' Hermione added, her voice tinged with caution.

'You don't get to choose, Hermione. That's the point.’ Ron reminded her, a hint of frustration in his tone ‘The Sorting Hat sees right through you and determines what kind of person you are.' 

'Well, the Sorting Hat thought I would have done pretty well in Ravenclaw too, but I wanted to be in Gryffindor so here I am.' Hermione admitted, a small smile playing on her lips.

'So… I get to choose?' Harry asked, feeling a glimmer of hope.

'If you really have a preference, then it will be taken into account.’ Hermione explained patiently. ‘You can still end up in another house if the Sorting Hat thinks you'll be better off there though.'

 'And you two are in Gryffindor, then?' Harry inquired, turning his attention to Ron and Hermione.

'Yep. All my family are Gryffindors, I think the bloody hat simply sends all Weasleys there at this point. It didn't even talk to me,' Ron grumbled, his expression a mix of pride and annoyance.

'Well, in that case, I hope to be in Gryffindor too,' Harry declared, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice. He had already decided he liked Ron and Hermione, so ending up in the same house as them was probably the best course of action.

'It would be great, then we would be dormmates. Oh, and you could play for the Gryffindor team with me! I'm the keeper. Or, well, I was last year. I hope I'll be again. Do you play Quidditch?' Ron asked eagerly.

Harry grinned, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. 'Hell, yeah! I'm a pretty good seeker, way better than my father if I may say and he used to be the Gryffindor captain.'

'Wicked! You'll have to talk to Ginny, though. She's my sister and she's the Gryffindor captain and seeker,’ Ron explained proudly ‘but I know she'd rather be a chaser. No one is as good as her, though, so she had to settle with that position,' 

'I'll try my best. What's your favourite Quidditch team?' Harry inquired, eager to continue the conversation. Ron’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

And so, for the rest of the journey – until the trolley lady finally passed by their compartment and they bought more sweets than they could eat, that is –, Harry and Ron discussed Quidditch teams and strategies while Hermione happily continued reading her book, a small smile on her lips. Their excitement for the upcoming school year was palpable in the air and Harry couldn’t help but think that convincing his parents to let him attend Hogwarts this year had been the best decision of his life.

Little did he know, there were no calm school years at Hogwarts and this one would not be an exception. In just one year he was about to cause much more chaos than his father and his friends had managed to do during their entire stay in Hogwarts, only not in the way they’d have done it.

Chapter Text

As the Hogwarts Express chugged to a stop at Hogsmeade Station, Harry Potter felt a flutter of nervous anticipation. Flanked by his newfound friends, Hermione and Ron, he eagerly joined the throngs of students making their way onto the platform.

Amidst the hustle and bustle, a grave voice cut through the crowd. 'Firs' years! Firs' years over here!'

'That's Hagrid' Ron explained by his side 'He's the Keeper of Keys and Grounds of Hogwarts and he's in charge of bringing the first years to the castle. He used to be the Care of Magical Creatures professor too, but you know, Malfoy happened.'

Harry hummed. He still couldn't believe a student had so much power over a public school, and much worse, that he was willing to use it for his convenience, but he had yet to meet Draco Malfoy. 

Ron then waved at a red-haired girl who must have been his sister. She was by a carriage with three other people, two boys dressed in Gryffindor robes and one blonde Ravenclaw girl with a dreamy expression on her face. They were gesturing eagerly for Ron and Hermione to join them, their smiles wide and welcoming. Ron's desire to go with them was evident, his eyes darting between his sister and Harry with uncertainty. But as Harry observed the scene unfolding before him, he couldn't shake the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The seven of them wouldn't probably fit in the carriage, that was obvious. Harry didn't want to deal with the awkwardness of being told by his new friends that they preferred to go with their real friends, so he took a step back, deciding to at least be the one who made the decision. 

'Maybe I should go with Hagrid as well, seeing as I'm a new student and all…'

'Are you sure, Harry?' Hermione shot him a worried and knowing look 'The three of us can go look for another carriage otherwise. It's far more comfortable.'

'No worries, I'll see you later,' He shot them a forced smile and quickly moved amongst the students, trying to lose the Gryffindors in case they were looking at him pitifully.

Harry glanced around, spotting the first-year students gathering near Hagrid, ready to board the boats that would ferry them across the Black Lake to the castle. It seemed like the logical choice for a newcomer like him, unsure of where he belonged.

But before he could make his way to Hagrid, his attention was snagged by a commotion nearby. Draco Malfoy, whose name Harry had heard whispered in disdain on the train, was in the midst of a confrontation. He had just unceremoniously ousted some younger students from their carriage with an air of entitlement that made Harry's skin crawl. 

Pansy Parkinson was by his side, just like she had been on the train: she hovered close to Draco, her movements almost clingy as she sought his approval. Her touch was overly familiar, her hand resting possessively on Draco's arm as she smirked at the kicked boys, relishing in their discomfort. 

Blaise Zabini stood nearby, his expression a blend of indifference and amusement. His presence added to the air of superiority that surrounded Draco, his nonchalant demeanour a stark contrast to Pansy's eager subservience.

There were two other big Slytherin boys loomed in the background, their presence imposing yet inconspicuous. Despite not knowing who they were, their loyalty to Draco was evident to Harry in their silent compliance, adding to the aura of power that surrounded the group.

Malfoy told them something Harry couldn't hear because of the distance and then the other four started getting into the carriage obediently, making it clear to anyone who was looking what the power dynamic of their group was.

But it was only Malfoy who held Harry's attention, still out of the carriage, his gaze sweeping across the platform with a calculated intensity that sent a shiver down Harry's spine. And then, the blond was looking straight at him. And Harry found himself being unexpectedly captivated by the intensity of Malfoy's platinum gaze. He couldn't tear his eyes away.

Malfoy's voice, when he spoke, was smooth and calculating, each word dripping with charm and manipulation. It was the voice of someone accustomed to getting what they wanted when they wanted it.

'Hey, you! Yes, you. Come here,' Malfoy called out, his tone brimming with confidence. Harry approached cautiously, his curiosity piqued by the unexpected summons despite the warning bells ringing in the back of his mind.

The rest of the plastics, along with the two other boys dressed in Slytherin robes were already seated in the carriage and were looking at their exchange curiously. Malfoy was leaning against the side of the carriage with his arms crossed.

'Why don't I know you?' Malfoy questioned, his piercing grey eyes scrutinizing Harry's face.

'I'm a new student this year. I was homeschooled before,' Harry explained, feeling a twinge of nervousness in the pit of his stomach.

'Homeschooled? No fucking way,'

'Er, yeah, it's true. I was homeschooled,' Harry confirmed, his voice faltering slightly under Malfoy's intense gaze.

'Yeah, I got that. I'm not retarded. Why, though?' Malfoy pressed, his curiosity evident.

'My parents, they're really protective, and they preferred to be close to me. I convinced them to let me attend Hogwarts these last two years, though,' Harry explained, hoping to appease Malfoy's curiosity.

As Draco Malfoy's piercing gaze swept over him, Harry felt a flush of nervousness creeping up his neck. Something was unnerving about the way Malfoy's eyes lingered on him as if dissecting every inch of his being.

'Good thing you did,' Malfoy remarked, his tone dripping with a mixture of amusement and something more insidious. Harry couldn't shake the feeling that Malfoy was sizing him up, evaluating him in a way that made his skin crawl.

'You're like really pretty,' Malfoy continued, his grin growing more pronounced as he spoke. 

Caught off guard by the unexpected compliment, Harry struggled to maintain his composure. He could feel Malfoy's eyes boring into him, assessing him in a way that made him acutely aware of his own insecurities.

'Thanks,' Harry replied, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

'So you agree? You think you're really pretty?' Malfoy inquired, his silver eyes locking onto Harry's own.

'I don't know. Why don't you tell me?' Harry retorted, feeling a surge of confidence despite the uncertainty swirling within him.

'Hm. You should come with us,' Malfoy suggested after a beat, his voice dripping with persuasion. He opened the door of the carriage and held it open for Harry invitingly.

Harry hesitated, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Despite his reservations, there was something undeniably alluring about Malfoy's offer. It was a chance to step into the unknown, to explore a world beyond the confines of his comfort zone.

But as he stood there, locked in a silent exchange with Malfoy, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension that gnawed at him. It was a feeling that whispered of danger, of the unknown consequences that awaited him should he accept Malfoy's invitation.

'I appreciate your offer, but I- I think I need to go with the first years. I need to be sorted as well, you know?' Harry replied, torn between curiosity and his sense of self-preservation.

'Nonsense. We're all going to the castle, and you'd barely fit in a boat. Come on. Or are you afraid of getting into trouble on your first day?' Malfoy goaded, a challenging glint in his eyes.

'I'm not afraid of anything, Malfoy,' Harry declared, his voice firm as he squared his shoulders defiantly. Draco nodded with approval, a huge grin on his face. Whether it was because Harry had accepted his challenge or because he had used his name, proving that even though he was a new student he knew who he was, Harry couldn't tell.

As Harry entered the carriage, he felt the weight of everyone's attention settle on him like a heavy cloak. Pansy Parkinson's gaze flicked curiously to him, her eyes sparkling with a mix of intrigue and uncertainty. Her fingers played nervously with the edge of her robe, a sign of her anticipation.

Blaise Zabini reclined back against the plush seats, his expression one of mild interest tinged with confusion. He seemed detached, observing the scene with a raised eyebrow as if waiting for an explanation.

Meanwhile, the other two boys remained oblivious to the tension, their attention wholly consumed by the chocolate muffins they were devouring with gusto. Chocolate smeared their faces as they indulged in the sugary treats, their laughter filled the carriage until Malfoy stepped in as well.

With a tentative smile, Harry took a seat opposite Pansy, his nerves still prickling with uncertainty. He couldn't help but feel like an intruder in this group, an outsider encroaching on their territory.

'Who's this, Draco?' Pansy's voice broke the silence, her eyes flicking between Harry and Draco with a mixture of confusion and scepticism.

'I'm Harry, Harry Potter,' Harry introduced himself, trying to maintain a calm demeanour despite the undercurrent of tension in the air.

Draco, lounging casually in his seat, regarded Harry with a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. There was a certain swagger in his posture, a silent challenge to anyone who dared question his motives.

'He's a new student,' Draco explained, his tone tinged with a sense of authority that brooked no argument. He seemed almost smug, as if revelling in the attention his decision to invite Harry into their carriage had garnered.

Pansy and Blaise exchanged a look of confusion, their brows furrowing in unison as they tried to make sense of Draco's unexpected invitation. There was a silent question lingering in the air, a curiosity about why Draco had chosen to extend such an offer to Harry.

'If you're a new student, why do you look so old?' Blaise's inquiry was direct, his confusion evident in his tone as he awaited Harry's response.

'Blaise, you can't just ask people why they look old!' Pansy scolded, shooting Blaise a reproachful look 'But yes, how old are you?' 

'I'm sixteen,' Harry replied, feeling slightly self-conscious under the plastics' scrutiny.

'He was homeschooled before,' Malfoy added, as if to explain Harry's unfamiliarity with Hogwarts.

'What? Is that still a thing? I thought everyone had to come to Hogwarts,' Blaise remarked, a note of scepticism in his voice.

'It's not mandatory,' Harry clarified, feeling the need to defend his upbringing.

'Hogwarts went to the dogs a long time ago, and Dumbledore is senile. The teachers he hires get worse year by year. You probably made the right decision staying at home, Potter,' Malfoy remarked with a disdainful snort. Harry remembered what Ron and Hermione had said about Draco Malfoy having sacked one of his teachers because of his own incompetence and he felt unease.

'Maybe. I would have wanted to study here since the first year, though,' 

'You did miss a lot of things,' Pansy chimed in, her tone tinged with condescension.

'Yeah, I guess,' Harry replied, feeling a sense of wistfulness as he reflected on what could have been. 

As an uncomfortable silence settled over them, Harry started regretting his impulsive decision to react to Malfoy's challenge. He looked out of the window, eager to see the castle he had heard so much about for the first time. As they rounded a bend in the road, the majestic silhouette of Hogwarts Castle came into view, perched atop a rocky outcrop overlooking the glittering waters of the Black Lake. Harry's breath caught in his throat at the sight, his heart pounding with excitement.

The castle loomed before them, its ancient stone walls bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. Turrets soared into the sky, their pointed peaks reaching for the heavens, while the windows glimmered like jewels in the fading light.

A sense of awe washed over Harry as he took in the sight, his eyes drinking in every detail of the magnificent structure before him. This was Hogwarts, the place he had dreamed of for so long, and now he was finally here.

He knew the plastics were watching him reacting to seeing Hogwarts for the first time and he didn't care if they thought he was being childish. This was his dream come true.

'I like your glasses, they bring out the colour of your eyes.' Draco suddenly said, completely out of the blue and with a surprisingly complimentary tone 'Where did you get them?' 

Harry tore his gaze away from the castle to look at Malfoy, who was looking at him almost fondly for whatever reason. Harry didn't ponder much about it.

'They're like my father's,' He replied, feeling a swell of pride at the mention of his father.

'Vintage. I like it,' Draco remarked, nodding in approval.

'They are so fetch!' Pansy exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

'What the fuck is fetch, Pansy?' Malfoy turned to her, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

'It's like slang, from America,' Pansy explained, her cheeks flushing slightly. Malfoy rolled his eyes and then he looked at Harry for the hundredth time that evening and seemed to consider him for a few seconds.

'Potter, could you excuse us for just a second?' He requested, his gaze locking with Harry's.

'Sure,' Harry replied, feeling slightly apprehensive as he stepped away as much as he could to give them privacy.

As Harry stood off to the side, Malfoy, Pansy, and Blaise huddled together, their voices lowered in conversation. Crabbe and Goyle were trying to listen to their whispers without making it obvious they were listening, as they probably sensed they were discussing a plastics-only issue. Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity about what they were talking about.

When Malfoy turned back to face him, there was a determined glint in his eyes. 'Ok, we never really do this, but we've decided you're invited to spend your free time with us for the rest of the year.'

'Oh, that's okay. I-' Harry began, but Parkinson cut him off before he could finish.

'There's no need for you to thank us. You're new and you don't know things, after all. You need good friends like us by your side,' She insisted, her tone persuasive.

'But-' Harry tried to protest, but Blaise interrupted him with a smile.

'On Wednesdays, we wear pink!' He declared, his eyes shining with excitement.

'Don't we have to wear our uniforms?' Harry pointed out, feeling slightly confused by Blaise's statement.

'Yes, but you can wear accessories,' Malfoy explained, a smirk playing on his lips.

'I don't think I own anything pink,' Harry admitted, feeling a twinge of embarrassment. Nor did he have any kind of accessories either, but he wasn't about to say that.

'Are you or are you not a wizard? Just turn something pink,' Malfoy retorted, raising an eyebrow.

'There are more rules you have to follow if you want to spend time with us. I'll write them down for you,' Pansy added, pulling out a piece of parchment from her pocket.

'There are rules?' Harry asked, feeling a sense of trepidation at the thought of having to adhere to a set of guidelines.

'Yes, and you have to follow them. But not only you, if any of us broke any of the rules, we would be left out. Understood?' Parkinson clarified, her gaze was intense as she fixed Harry with a serious look.

'Er, yeah,' Harry replied, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sudden influx of information.

'Do you know what house you'll be in?' Blaise inquired curiously.

'I honestly have no idea. My parents were Gryffindors, though. So maybe I'll be one too,' Harry replied, hoping to glean some insight into his impending sorting.

'Ugh, a Gryffindor. Well, I guess that would be better than being a Hufflepuff,' Malfoy remarked with a disdainful sniff.

'Yeah, if you're sorted into Hufflepuff, don't even try looking for us. Joining Hufflepuff house is like social suicide,' Pansy added, looking at Malfoy for confirmation. Her tone dripped with scorn. 

'Why? I heard they were nice, hard-working people,' Harry protested, feeling a pang of indignation at Pansy's derogatory remarks.

'Some of them. The thing is, Helga Hufflepuff was so kind that she decided to accept any person who wasn't accepted in any of the other houses. Basically, most Hufflepuffs are just rejects. They're pathetic,' Malfoy explained, his tone dismissive.

'Uh,' Harry replied, feeling at a loss for words. He didn't really know what to think about that, as he only knew what Ron and Hermione had told him on the train about the four houses. His parents had never thought it would be necessary to talk about Hogwarts houses because they had never intended for Harry to go to Hogwarts in the first place. For all he knew, people who didn't fit in any of the other houses might have had another house they could go to.

'Slytherin is the best house. Anyone who wants to be someone in life and who is determined to achieve their goal ends up in Slytherin. It's only for the greatest wizards, though,' Blaise declared, his tone filled with pride.

And so, as they approached Hogwarts, Harry found himself grappling with the complexities of his newfound friendships and the looming uncertainty of his future at the school. By the time they arrived at the castle, Harry couldn't decide whether he liked the plastics or not. Despite the allure of their invitation and the sense of belonging it offered, there was an underlying sense of unease lingering in Harry's mind.

'Bye,' Harry said casually as Malfoy and his companions got out of the carriage.

'See you later, Potter. I hope you become my new dormmate.' Malfoy added with a smirk 'Just imagine how much fun we could have at the sleepovers.' 

The last part had been said in a tone barely above a whisper, so only Harry could hear it. His grey eyes were sparkling with something Harry couldn't quite place as he winked at him. 

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion at Malfoy's comment, unsure of how to respond to the unexpected invitation. Malfoy didn't wait for a response and quickly disappeared among the rest of the students, being closely followed by the rest of the Slytherins.

Shaking off his bewilderment, Harry too got out of the carriage and joined the throng of students making their way to Hogwarts. As they approached the castle, Harry's heart swelled with anticipation, his mind racing with thoughts of the adventures that awaited him within its hallowed halls.

Harry stopped when he reached the doors of the Great Hall and someone Harry didn't know snapped at him for blocking the way. Harry stepped aside, so he would inconvenience the least people possible. He didn't know if he should enter with the rest of them or not, because since he hadn't been sorted he didn't have a table to sit in. He was trying to see any first years, characterised for having plain black robes just like him, but there weren't any. 

Just as he was about to take a tentative step forward, a stern voice called out to him, halting him in his tracks. Harry turned to see who he would later on know was Professor McGonagall striding purposefully towards him, her gaze sharp and unwavering.

'You're Mr. Potter, are you not?' Harry nodded 'I was starting to think you had got lost. Wait here, Mr. Potter' The stern witch instructed, her tone leaving no room for argument. With a nod, Harry complied, watching as the professor disappeared back into the castle.

A couple of minutes later, the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor, and Harry turned to see the same professor from returning, accompanied by a group of nervous-looking first years. Their eyes widened in awe as they took in the grandeur of the castle, their faces a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

With a gentle but firm hand, McGonagall ushered the first years forward, leading them towards the Great Hall. Harry followed behind, his heart pounding with anticipation. As they entered the cavernous hall, the murmurs of the other students fell silent, all eyes turning to watch as the newest members of Hogwarts took their place at the long wooden tables.

Standing among them, Harry felt stupid. There was an obvious huge difference between the first years and himself, and he didn't like the feeling of every other student in Hogwarts looking at him and wondering who he was. He didn't look at anyone, and instead admired the charmed ceiling, marvelling at the twinkling stars that adorned the night sky, before turning his attention to the Sorting Hat resting upon the stool.

One by one, the first years were called forward to be sorted into their respective houses. Harry watched with bated breath as the hat deliberated, its brim twitching thoughtfully as it considered each student's fate.

Finally, Harry's name was called, and he stepped forward with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. He took a deep breath as the Sorting Hat was placed upon his head, its worn fabric falling over his eyes as it began to speak.

'Ah, Harry Potter,' the Sorting Hat murmured, its voice echoing in Harry's mind. 'A bit older than the others, are you not? Let's see where I place you. Mm… It's difficult, very difficult. There's plenty of courage, oh yes. Not a bad mind either… There's talent and a nice thirst to prove yourself. Where shall I place you, I wonder?'

Harry thought about what Ron and Hermione had said on the train about Slytherins and about Malfoy's commentary, which had unnerved him. 

'Not Slytherin' Harry thought desperately, his inner voice pleading with the Sorting Hat, 'not Slytherin.'

'Not Slytherin, eh?' Retorted the voice 'Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head and Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that- no? Well, if you're sure… You better be in GRYFFINDOR!

A wave of relief washed over Harry as the hat was lifted from his head, the Gryffindor table erupting into cheers and applause. He couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards the Sorting Hat for granting his silent request, sparing him from the fate he had feared.

As he made his way to the Gryffindor table amidst the cheers of his new housemates, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty that lingered in the back of his mind. The hat's first choice had been Slytherin, the 'evil' house. Draco Malfoy's house. Did that mean Harry and Draco were similar after all? Would his new friends, Ron and Hermione, accept him then? He decided against telling them about his little chat with the hat. It was probably for the best. 

He sat next to Ron and greeted some of his new housemates, including Ron's sister and the two boys who had been with her. He learned their names were Ginny, Neville and Dean. On Dean's right was also an Irish boy named Seamus, who also introduced himself to Harry. So far, the Gryffindors seemed nice enough.

In the midst of the lively chatter and laughter, Harry found a moment to lean in close to Ron and Hermione, his voice lowered to a whisper as he recounted his encounter with Draco Malfoy and the rest of the 'plastics.'

'Merlin, you have to do it! And then you have to tell us all the horrible things the plastics say and do in confidence,' Ron urged, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

'I'm rather curious too. It would be really fun to know something about them for once,' Hermione added, her expression tinged with intrigue.

Harry hesitated, his brow furrowing in uncertainty as he mulled over their words. 'I don't know, guys. Draco seemed… sweet,' he admitted, feeling a pang of guilt at the thought of betraying Malfoy's unexpected kindness.

'Draco Malfoy is not sweet, he's a soul-sucking life-ruiner! He ruined my life!' Hermione exclaimed, her voice filled with righteous indignation. Her calm demeanour was gone.

'Yeah, he's a git. What made you think he was sweet?' Ron questioned, his scepticism evident in his tone.

'He said I was pretty. And even complimented my eyes! He didn't make fun of me or anything,' Harry explained, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice.

'He said you're pretty? What? That's so strange,' Ron remarked, his expression one of disbelief.

'He's trying to get to know you because he doesn't know anything about you yet. He can't use anything against you,' Hermione reasoned, her tone thoughtful.

'I don't know if I want him to know anything about me, then,' Harry admitted, feeling torn between curiosity and caution.

'No, mate, you have to do it! This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance to mock Malfoy!' Ron insisted, his eyes alight with mischief.

'I hate to agree with Ron, but being in Malfoy's circle would give us valuable insight.'

'Why do you even hate him so much?' Harry asked, his curiosity piqued by Ron and Hermione's animosity towards Malfoy.

'What do you mean?' Hermione replied, her tone defensive.

'Well, you seem to really hate him,' Harry observed, his gaze searching Hermione's face for answers.

'Yes. What's your question?' Ron retorted this time, his expression guarded.

'Why?' Harry pressed, his voice tinged with frustration.

'Why not? You have no idea the things he has done over the years,' Hermione muttered darkly, her eyes narrowing with bitterness.

'I actually don't. That's why I'm asking you!'

'Well, it all started because he told the whole school that-' Ron interjected, but Hermione cut him off with a sharp look.

'Ron! Can we not?' Hermione whispered, shooting Ron a reproachful glance. 'Look, this doesn't even have anything to do with us hating Malfoy. We just think it would be a fun little experiment if you were to hang out with them and then tell us everything that they say,' She explained, her tone softening slightly as she turned back to Harry.

'But what would we even talk about?' Harry wondered aloud, feeling uncertain about the prospect of spending time with Malfoy and his friends.

'Hair products, posh clothes, blood-purity…'

'Malfoy's the Slytherin seeker, so maybe you could talk about Quidditch as well,' Ron added, helpfully.

'You don't have to do it. We wouldn't hold it against you.' Hermione assured him 'But could you do it anyway, please? For us,' She pleaded, her expression earnest.

'Ok, I guess,' Harry agreed reluctantly, a sense of unease gnawing at the pit of his stomach.

'Thank you, Harry,' Ron said gratefully, clapping Harry on the back as they turned their attention back to the feast unfolding before them.

Harry looked towards the Slytherin table on the other side of the Great Hall and he was shocked to discover Draco Malfoy was already looking at him. The rest of the plastics were minding their business, either eating or engaged in conversation with their fellow Slytherins – or, like Pansy, trying to involve Draco himself in conversation –, but not Draco. He didn't look mad that Harry had ended up in Gryffindor, maybe a little disappointed but that was it, which Harry reckoned was very good if he planned to infiltrate his group of friends as he had promised Ron and Hermione. No, Draco Malfoy was not mad but there was an unmistakable fervour in his eyes, an intensity that Harry couldn't quite decipher.

As Malfoy's gaze lingered on him, Harry couldn't help but wonder about the enigma that was Draco Malfoy. Despite the rumours that surrounded him, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Malfoy than met the eye.

Thinking of the plan to appease his new friends, Harry offered a tentative smile, hoping to convey friendliness despite the apprehension that gnawed at him. But instead of a welcoming response, Harry watched as Malfoy's gaze hardened slightly as if grappling with some internal conflict. Then, he looked down at his plate.

Throughout the remainder of the feast, Harry found himself stealing glances at Malfoy, curious about the mystery that surrounded him, but he didn't look at him again. Despite the intensity of their initial exchange, there was a sense of intrigue that lingered in the air, drawing Harry towards Malfoy like a moth to a flame.

As the feast came to a close and the students began to disperse, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that this was going to be a hell of a year. After all, in only one day he had managed to get himself in between a years-long conflict of which he knew close to nothing about for two people he had just met.

He would finally get to experience the high school experience, at the very least.

Chapter Text

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the castle, Harry found himself tossing and turning on the unfamiliar mattress of his dormitory bed. Being an only child, he had never experienced anything similar to the constant symphony of snores that emanated from Ron's bunk across the room nor the hushed voices and laughs of Seamus and Dean on the bed next to his, the curtains drawn. While the prospect of sharing a bedroom was initially exciting, the reality of sleepless nights quickly dampened Harry's enthusiasm.

With each snore that rattled the room, Harry's thoughts drifted back to the events of the day. Saying goodbye to his parents at King's Cross Station had been a bittersweet moment, the weight of their love and support mingling with the uncertainty of the future. Meeting Ron and Hermione had provided a brief respite from the overwhelming atmosphere of the bustling train station, their warmth and kindness easing Harry's nerves as they embarked on their journey to Hogwarts.

But as the day had progressed, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over him like a heavy blanket. Ron and Hermione's insistence on spending time with certain students, whom they had deemed dead evil, left Harry feeling conflicted and unsure. The presence of the so-called plastics had only added to his discomfort, their icy stares and whispered conversations leaving Harry feeling like a bit of an outsider.

And then there was Draco Malfoy, with his silver tongue and sly grin. Harry couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something about Malfoy's demeanour that set his teeth on edge. The way he had called Harry 'pretty' and winked when talking about sleepovers had left Harry feeling oddly vulnerable, a sense of unease gnawing at the pit of his stomach.

Unable to bear another moment in the stifling confines of the dormitory, Harry had slipped out into the common room, seeking solace in the quiet solitude of the night. He had ended up falling asleep on the sofa, but his peaceful respite was short-lived, as he was soon jolted awake by the sound of Hermione's voice, gently chiding him for oversleeping.

The common was crowded now, Harry realised embarrassingly, and lots of unfamiliar faces were looking at him curiously. Ron, who looked like he had not slept enough although Harry knew that he had, was smirking at Harry mockingly next to Hermione. Harry hoped it was good-natured.

Blushing furiously at the thought of being caught in such a dishevelled state, Harry hurriedly went back to the dormitory and changed into his school robes. He also ran a hand through his tousled hair and decided there was no time for taking a shower. When he descended the stairs to the common room a few minutes later, he was disappointed to see that it was mostly empty. Ron and Hermione had left too. With a sense of abandonment weighing heavily on his shoulders, he made his way to the Great Hall, hoping to salvage what remained of his morning.

Spotting Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table –his plate full of food while hers was empty –, Harry made his way to them and took a seat, trying to shrug off the fact that Hermione and Ron had not waited for him and didn’t look like they were going to apologise for that any time soon. Maybe it was normal for friends not to wait for each other or maybe they had to become closer for that to happen. Harry didn’t know how friendship at Hogwarts worked, but it still hurt a tad.

So he decided not to think about it and focus on eating before the classes began. But before he could even finish half a sausage, the food on the table disappeared in a whirlwind of magic, leaving Harry blinking in surprise. Ron's expression darkened with frustration, his fork frozen midway to his mouth. It was evident that he hadn't managed to consume his fill, though Harry couldn't shake the feeling that Ron had already indulged more than his fair share. Hermione's reproachful glance only served to confirm Harry's suspicions, her disapproving eyes silently chastising Ron for his voracious appetite. Professor McGonagall descended from the staff table, her stern expression softened slightly as she distributed timetables to the students.

Hermione, ever the diligent student, wasted no time in checking her schedule and announcing that she had Ancient Runes class. With a quick farewell, she left Harry and Ron behind, disappearing into the throng of students making their way out of the Great Hall.

Left with a free period before their Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Harry and Ron exchanged a puzzled, yet ecstatic glance. Unsure of what to do with their unexpected break, Harry's gaze wandered over to the Slytherin table. Strangely, none of the plastics were in sight and Harry didn’t know if that was good or bad. He still didn’t know where he stood with them, but he figured if they had been there he would have had to go with them. Only Crabbe and Goyle, the two burly boys Harry had encountered in the carriage, sat hunched over their plates.

Harry hesitated for a moment, considering whether to approach them for company. But the memory of their intimidating presence and the fact they hadn’t seemed that important as they weren’t part of the official plastics made him think twice. Deciding he'd rather not spend any more time with them than necessary, Harry opted to retreat to the familiar comforts of the Gryffindor common room.

Both Harry and Ron rose from the table and made their way out of the Great Hall, the chatter of students fading into the background as they navigated the winding corridors of Hogwarts. As he walked, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air, a sense of foreboding that seemed to seep into the very stone walls of the castle.

As Harry and Ron settled into the Gryffindor common room, the cosy atmosphere enveloped them like a warm embrace. The crackling fire cast dancing shadows across the room, and the soft glow of lanterns illuminated the familiar surroundings. But their tranquillity was soon interrupted by the voices of their fellow Gryffindors.

Overhearing a conversation nearby, Harry and Ron turned their attention to a blonde girl who appeared to be their age, or perhaps a year above or below them. She was speaking to Ron's sister, Ginny, discussing the upcoming Quidditch tryouts.

'I was thinking Saturday morning. The sooner, the better. But you needn’t worry, Katie, I’ve seen you playing for years, you’re going to make the team again for sure,' Ginny reassured the blonde girl with an easy smile.

Katie nodded, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her expression. 'I hope so, but you shouldn’t underestimate the rest. Good teams have been ruined before now because captains tend to choose the same old faces or their friends and family…'

Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers absently toying with a Fanged Frisbee Hermione, as a prefect, had confiscated from a fourth year the night before as they were heading to the Gryffindor Tower. He threw it across the room and it almost accidentally hit Ginny, who looked furious at her brother.

'Ron! Be careful or you’ll take someone’s eye out.'

'Sorry,' Ron mumbled sheepishly, setting the Frisbee aside.

'If you’re worried about making the team, you should know that so far there’s only another person who told me would be interested in being keeper: Cormac McLaggen, so you just have to do better than him,' Ginny continued with a firm tone.

Ron huffed in frustration, clearly feeling the pressure of the upcoming tryouts. 'Like it’s easy.'

'Train harder. I’m not going to let you in just because you’re my brother. Katie’s right, you know?' Ginny reminded him, with a tone that left no room for retorts. Harry instantly liked that about her, although Ron seemed ultimately displeased his sister being captain wouldn’t play in his favour.

'And are you going to try out, Harry?' She suddenly asked him.

Harry nodded eagerly. 'Yeah. I’ve been playing Quidditch since I was a little kid and I’d say I’m pretty good.'

'We’ll see about that. What position?' Ginny asked, her eyes twinkling with interest.

'Seeker, ideally.' 

'That’s my position. And I’m the captain.'

Harry's heart skipped a beat, realizing the implications of Ginny's statement. 'I know, but Ron said…'

'Come on, Ginny, we all know you want to be chaser. Don’t terrorize poor Harry here,' Ron interjected, attempting to diffuse the tension with a grin.

Ginny laughed, nodding in agreement. 'That’s true, but we can’t have anyone as seeker. You’ll have to be better than me, then, Harry.'

Harry grinned back, feeling a surge of excitement at the prospect of competing for the seeker position. 'Challenge accepted.'

After an hour spent in the comforting familiarity of the Gryffindor common room, Harry and Ron reluctantly tore themselves away from the cosy ambience, their footsteps echoing through the empty corridors as they made their way to their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Harry's anticipation bubbled within him like a cauldron set to boil. Defence Against the Dark Arts was his favourite subject, and he was eager to see how it would be taught at Hogwarts.

As they made their way to the classroom, Ron couldn't help but offer a word of caution about their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Severus Snape. 'Watch out for Snape, mate,' Ron warned, his tone tinged with a hint of apprehension. 'He's a right git, especially to Gryffindors.'

Harry shrugged off Ron's concerns, his optimism undeterred as they entered the classroom and Snape's piercing gaze fell upon him. Harry took a seat beside Neville, one of his fellow Gryffindors, as Ron and Hermione, who had arrived before Ron and Harry, sat together and the other two people Harry knew in that class were Draco and Pansy, who were also sitting together and hadn’t spotted him yet. Harry's confidence was quickly shattered as Snape began to single him out, bombarding him with questions that were far beyond his level of knowledge and made him feel like a clueless first year.

Struggling to keep up, Harry felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment as Snape's scathing remarks cut through the air like a knife. 'Perhaps Hogwarts was a mistake for you, Potter, if you can't even be bothered to take your studies seriously,' Snape sneered, his voice dripping with disdain.

Unable to muster a response, Harry felt a wave of frustration wash over him as Hermione, ever the eager student, stepped in to answer Snape's questions with ease, even as he downplayed it saying it was the exact answer they would find in their book. Harry could see Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson exchange mocking glances from their seats across the room, as they talked in a hushed tone.

Snape instructed the class to practice non-verbal defensive spells in pairs, which took Harry by surprise because even though his protective spells were perfect, he had never done any non-verbal spells and Snape didn’t bother telling them how they should achieve casting them. For some agonising minutes, Harry thought non-verbal spells had been taught at Hogwarts the year before although they were not in the curriculum and so, everyone knew how to do them so Harry would be insulted by Snape again for being the only one who couldn’t do such a simple task. 

Luckily, it seemed like no one knew how to cast non-verbal spells and the majority of his classmates were simply trying to say 'protego' without being heard. Neville was just as lost as Harry, if not more, because even when he pronounced the spell, his protego was not very strong.

With Snape's watchful eye bearing down on them, Harry and Neville attempted to execute the spells, but their efforts were met with nothing but scorn from the professor. And then Snape singled Harry out for yet another round of humiliation, as he knew Harry wouldn’t be able to cast the charm. Harry's patience reached its breaking point when he saw Snape aiming at him. He didn’t trust that man to hex him, who knew what kind of spell he would use?

Summoning all his courage, Harry focused his mind and screamed the incantation for the shield charm, 'Protego,' sending Snape hurtling across the room in a whirlwind of surprise and fury.

Snape's black eyes narrowed into slits as he struggled to regain his composure. 'Do you remember me saying we're practising non-verbal spells, Potter?' he hissed, his voice laced with venom.

'Yes,' Harry replied tersely, his frustration boiling over as he bristled at Snape's condescending tone.

'Yes, sir,' Snape corrected, his voice dripping with malice.

With a defiant glare, Harry retorted, 'There's no need to call me sir, professor.' 

Several people gasped, including Hermione. But there were even more people grinning mischievously at him, Ron, Draco and Pansy included. Snape's lip curled into a sneer as he issued his punishment. 'Twenty points from Gryffindor! And detention on Saturday morning. Maybe your insolent father let you get away with that language, Potter, but I will have none of it.'

As the class fell into a tense silence, Harry felt awful about having lost 20 points on the first day. He could only begin to wonder what the rest of his Gryffindor peers would say to that. Besides, what would his mother say if she found out Harry had landed himself in detention on the first day? And he wouldn't be able to go to the tryouts. He felt devastated and part of him wanted to beg Snape to let him get rid of his punishment, but he knew it would only serve to humiliate himself. So he met Snape's gaze head-on, refusing to back down in the face of his teacher's hostility.

When the class ended, Harry was fast to gather his things and stormed out of the classroom, his mind raced with a tumult of emotions. The encounter with Snape had left him feeling raw and indignant, the unfairness of the situation gnawing at him like a persistent itch he couldn't scratch. He couldn't understand why the DADA teacher seemed to harbour such animosity towards him, especially considering it was Harry's first day at Hogwarts.

Lost in his thoughts, Harry almost didn't notice the figure of Draco Malfoy already leaning casually against the stone wall, flanked by his ever-present companion, Pansy Parkinson. The Slytherin duo wore expressions of amusement as if they had just witnessed a particularly entertaining spectacle.

'That was hilarious, who would have thought you had so much sass in you?' Malfoy remarked, his tone laced with a hint of admiration. 'But you won't get far treating Snape like that.'

'He tried to hex me!' Harry retorted, his voice tinged with frustration. The memory of Snape's wand pointed directly at him and the sneer on the professor's face was still fresh in his mind.

'Come on, Potter. He wouldn't have done anything horrible. That's what the exercise was about,' Malfoy said, attempting to downplay the severity of the situation. 'Besides, it's not like Snape needs any excuse to be unpleasant.'

Harry nodded, begrudgingly conceding the point. Snape's reputation for favouring Slytherins and treating Gryffindors with disdain was well-known throughout the school, as Ron had explained to him not much ago, but Harry couldn't shake the feeling that there was something personal about Snape's treatment of him.

'Still. He seemed to dislike me since the moment I stepped into his class,' Harry remarked, his brow furrowed in thought. 

'That's true,' Draco conceded, his expression thoughtful. 'He does have some… evident dislike towards Gryffindors, but he went very hard on you since the beginning. I mean, who the heck knows what fiendfyre is used for?'

'Right.' 

'You should try to slither into his good side though. You don't want him as an enemy.' 

‘That’s true,’ Pansy intervened quickly, with too much energy for Harry's liking. She seemed happy to have something to add ‘He’s done horrible things in the past to students he disliked. That boy you were sitting with in class, Longbottom, always got the worst of it. It was fun, I won’t lie, but you wouldn’t want to become his new objective. He almost poisoned Longbottom's toad – because yeah, Longbottom can’t have a normal animal, he must have a disgusting toad – by making him give to his toad the Shrinking Potion he had done, although we all knew Longbottom was dreadful at potions and the animal would have died if it hadn't been for that know-it-all, Granger, who helped him.’

‘Longbottom got it coming, though, he was a pathetic excuse of a potion maker and why would he even bring a fucking toad to class?’ Malfoy commented with disdain. Harry frowned because Neville seemed like a good guy so far and didn't deserve to be talked about that way, although he could agree toads weren’t his favourite creature either. Still, Snape should never have done that.

‘Not only that.’ Pansy continued, with a huge smirk on her face ‘I heard Eleanor Branstone, a third-year Hufflepuff, accidentally burned her hair and Snape didn’t let her go to the infirmary after the class finished, claiming he could not see any difference even though she was bald now and had some burns’.

'That's horrible. How can someone like him be a teacher? Shouldn’t he be fired?' Harry exclaimed, appalled by Snape's behaviour. The idea that a teacher could openly treat students that way was deeply unsettling to him.

Malfoy shot him an amused look, gave him a little smile – one of those that you missed if you blinked – and shook his head. 

'You’re adorable, Potter.' He said, and Harry wasn't sure if he was mocking him or not. He still reddened at being called adorable by the blond 'I told you already, the headmaster is senile. Snape’s not the worst teacher we’ve ever had at all. He’s quite alright if you know how to handle him. Longbottom and that Hufflepuff girl obviously did not.' 

As they continued their conversation, Pansy went on to comment on every bad teacher they had ever had and Harry felt more horrified by the minute. Ghosts who made you want to kill yourself with their lectures, handsome yet stupid professors who would rather endanger their students than admit they were incompetent at any level, teachers who would go around teaching unforgivables to fourth years and transfigurating students – at which mention, Malfoy couldn’t help but wince and Harry felt intrigued about what had happened in their fourth year –, teachers who would use veritaserum and blood quills as punishment… Harry shivered at the mere thought, who was letting these people near kids?

'I still feel like Snape's going to make my life a living hell and enjoy it.' He commented with a sigh.

Pansy assured Harry, 'Don't worry, once he realises you're with us, he'll go easy on you.' Harry wasn't entirely convinced, but he appreciated her attempt to offer reassurance.

With that, Pansy bid them goodbye and veered off in another direction, leaving Harry and Malfoy to make their way to potions class together. 

'Pansy’s not taking potions?'

'No, she said she doesn’t need the potions NEWT. I suspect she didn’t get a good enough OWL, though. She hasn’t ever been extremely bright,' Malfoy explained, his tone dismissive and a little bit bitter for whatever reason. Harry couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Pansy, knowing that she must have felt disappointed by her academic performance.

'Isn’t she your friend?' Harry questioned, surprised by Malfoy's casual attitude towards his own friend.

'Yes. And?' Malfoy replied nonchalantly, seemingly unconcerned by the implication. Harry's confusion only deepened at Malfoy's indifferent response.

In Harry's mind, friendship was a sacred bond built on trust, loyalty, and genuine care for one another's well-being. The idea that Malfoy could casually refer to Pansy as a friend without a hint of sentiment or attachment after talking ill about her left him baffled.

Malfoy's indifference to Harry's inquiry only deepened his confusion. There was no explanation, no elaboration, just a simple acknowledgement of their friendship followed by a dismissive 'And?' It was as if Malfoy saw nothing unusual about their relationship, as if friendships were nothing more than casual connections formed out of convenience rather than genuine emotional bonds.

For Harry, who had grown up surrounded by the unwavering loyalty of his parents and their close-knit circle of friends, Malfoy's response challenged his understanding of friendship. It made him question whether his idealized view of companionship was too simplistic or naive, especially in the complex social landscape that Hogwarts turned out to be. 

Before Harry could respond, they arrived at the potions classroom. Inside, there were only ten students apart from them both, including three Slytherins – one of them being Blaise, who Harry hadn't thought would have been able to get the potions OWL if Pansy hadn't –, two Gryffindors – Harry’s secret friends, Ron and Hermione with whom he exchanged a quick smile full of complicity –, four Ravenclaws, and a lone Hufflepuff. Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension as he entered the room, unsure of what to expect from his first potions lesson. Surely it couldn't be worse than DADA. 

Malfoy's gaze fell on the other Slytherins, who were sitting already at one of the three tables. There was only room for four people in each table and Harry felt a sense of deja vu, remembering when he had had to leave Ron and Hermione with their other friends because there wasn’t space for him in the carriage. He hated to be in this situation again, with Malfoy of all people. He didn’t want him to choose the other Slytherins over Harry, but he knew that was what was going to happen. After all, they had all known each other for five years. The good thing was, if Malfoy told him to go, he could spend time with Ron and Hermione without making it clear he was friends with them. He was still struggling with not being able to be more than civil with them when Malfoy was around, but they both thought it was better off that way, not to arouse suspicion.

'Are you any good in potions?' Malfoy asked him. Harry blinked and locked eyes with him. He was looking at him with that intense gaze that made Harry's insides twist again, just like the day before, so he looked away and rubbed his neck sheepishly. 

'Yeah, I'd say so. It’s always been my mom’s favourite subject, so she was very passionate about teaching it. She made it easy to understand,' Harry replied, a hint of pride in his voice even as he responded nervously. He couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards his mother for instilling in him a love for potions.

'Potions is my favourite class too. You,' Malfoy gestured to one of the Slytherins Harry didn’t know, 'bye,' he said dismissively. The boy didn’t even reply, he simply huffed and stood up.

With that, Harry and Malfoy took their seats at the table, joining Blaise and the other, silent, Slytherin. He introduced himself as Theodore Nott and they both shook hands even as Malfoy looked at the exchange with his eyes half closed. The Slytherin Draco had kicked from the table opted to sit with Hermione, Ron, and the only Hufflepuff Ernie Macmillan, much to their apparent displeasure.

Glancing around the sparsely populated classroom and realising no one else was coming, Harry couldn't help but notice that there seemed to be fewer students than he had expected.

'Isn't there too few students in this class?' Harry queried, his brow furrowing in confusion. It seemed odd to him that such an important subject like potions would have such a small turnout.

'That's because Snape used to teach potions. A lot of people disliked the subject because of him,' Malfoy explained, his voice tinged with a hint of smugness. He had already said that potions was his favourite subject, even with Snape as his professor, so he probably felt like he was better than everyone else for not having ever suffered Snape's taunts. 

Harry decided not to focus on Malfoy's growing smirk, realizing that Snape's tenure as the Potions Master must have left many students feeling disillusioned and discouraged. It was no wonder that so few students had chosen to continue their studies in potions.

Potions turned out to be quite alright. Professor Slughorn, with his rotund figure and genial demeanour, left a favourable impression on Harry. The professor even approached him, expressing his anticipation for the achievements he expected from the son of Lily, as she had apparently been one of his best students. Draco asked after his grandfather and Slughorn was happy to tell him he had met him too and expected great things of Draco.

Hermione was quick to demonstrate her encyclopedic knowledge by identifying Amortentia, the most powerful love potion. She then proceeded to tell the whole class what she smelled: freshly mown grass, parchment and something else she didn’t say, but the Slytherins reckoned must have been dirty Weasel hair, obviously referring to Ron. Draco and Theodore exchanged knowing looks, their laughter echoing in the classroom. Harry, feeling the weight of Draco's expectant gaze, found himself chuckling along, though he couldn't help but wonder about the true nature of their camaraderie.

Harry himself didn’t smell anything distinct, but he supposed that was because he was too far from the cauldrons to discern any distinct scents. He was still curious about what he would feel, as he couldn’t say he had ever been attracted to anyone before. Not consciously, at least.

Professor Slughorn then set the class a challenging task, promising a vial of Felix Felicis, liquid luck, to the student who produced the best Draught of Living Death. As the brewing process commenced, Harry found himself stealing furtive glances at Malfoy, mesmerized by the fluidity and precision of his movements. Each stir of the cauldron, each addition of ingredients, seemed to be executed with effortless grace and confidence. Despite his efforts to concentrate on his own potion, Harry's gaze frequently wandered back to Malfoy's workstation, drawn by an inexplicable fascination.

In one of those stolen moments, as Harry's eyes lingered on Malfoy's deft hands, he suddenly found himself locking eyes with the Slytherin. Caught off guard, Harry felt a flush of embarrassment rise to his cheeks as he quickly averted his gaze, pretending to focus on his potion. He didn’t fully look at Malfoy again, but out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see he was smiling.

Instead of looking at Malfoy, he took a look at Blaise and Theodore’s cauldrons and was disappointed to notice even Blaise’s potion looked better than his. He couldn’t keep getting distracted, he had to do well in this class if only to honour the talent of his mother. He wouldn’t mind getting the liquid luck either, using it once to improve his social life would surely turn everything much better.

So, even if he exchanged brief nods and small talk with Blaise and Theodore, grateful for their presence as a distraction from the lingering unease brought on by his encounter with Malfoy, Harry dedicated himself to making the best potion possible in the time that remained.

In the end, Harry’s efforts were not in vain. He had managed to create a fairly decent potion, which Slughorn complimented, saying he had definitely inherited his mother’s talent. But it was Draco who emerged victorious, his potion flawless and meticulously crafted. He was practically gleaming as he received the promised Felix Felicis with a huge grin on his face and Harry couldn’t look away once more. He looked mesmerising with such an honest smile on his face, his shirt stuck to his chest because of the sweat, a direct consequence of his effort. In his potions book, Harry noticed, were lots of notes Draco must have written before the class, preparing himself for this moment. 

Harry couldn't shake the feeling of admiration mixed with a tinge of envy. Draco's meticulous preparation and pre-existing notes spoke volumes about his dedication and ambition, qualities that Harry couldn't help but respect. Hermione, on the other hand, looked furious on the other side of the classroom. Her whole hair was ruined, and though her potion had been good enough, Harry’s and especially Malfoy’s had been better.

As the last professor concluded their lesson for the day that evening, signalling the end of classes, Harry bid farewell to Draco, Pansy, and Blaise, excusing himself by saying he had to send a letter to his parents. The trio waved him off almost amiably, their conversation already turning to other matters as Harry made his way out of the classroom.

However, as Harry navigated the winding corridors of the castle, he realized with a sinking feeling that he had no idea where the owlery was located. He paused in the hallway, mentally retracing his steps as he tried to recall any mention of the owlery's whereabouts. But the memory eluded him, leaving him feeling lost and uncertain.

With a sigh of frustration, Harry turned on his heel and began to make his way back to Gryffindor Tower, hoping that Ron and Hermione might be able to offer some guidance. He could always try to find the Marauders' Map, which his father had gifted him so he could keep the Marauder’s spirit alive, in his trunk, but asking Hermione and Ron would probably take less time. Harry was messy like that.

Pushing open the door, Harry found Ron, Dean and Seamus engaged in a lively game of exploding snap, their faces lit up with excitement as they eagerly awaited the next explosion. Nearby, Hermione was doing homework, but she talked to them from time to time. A warm smile tugged at Harry's lips as he watched it, the tension of the day melting away in an instant.

'Hey, Harry! Come join us!' Ron called out, gesturing for Harry to take a seat at the table.

Harry hesitated for a moment, torn between his original mission to find the owlery and the prospect of spending time with his new friends. In the end, the allure of their company proved too tempting to resist, and Harry settled himself into a chair, eagerly accepting the deck of cards that Dean offered him.

As the game progressed, their conversation meandered through various topics, from their shared frustrations with Professor Snape and how funny it had been Harry’s remark – totally worth losing 20 points over it or even 50 Seamus had assured him, and Ron and Dean had agreed, although Hermione had scolded him for that one —, to the Quidditch tryouts Harry wouldn’t be able to attend and how unfair that was. They also talked about Draco getting the Felix Felicis and wondered what he would do with it. Harry, Ron and Hermione shared knowing looks, agreeing without saying any words that they would discuss the plastics later on when no one else was around. Harry listened intently during the conversation, offering his own insights and opinions as they discussed the day's events.

Eventually, the game came to an end, the last explosion of cards sending bursts of confetti flying through the air as Ron cheered in triumph. With a laugh, Harry rose from his seat, feeling lighter and more at ease than he had in days.

He asked where the owlery was and after getting a very vague response from Ron and a way more detailed one from Hermione, Harry set off.

He had received an owl from his parents. He had expected them to write, only not so soon. In the letter, his mother showed how worried she was about him and asked a lot of questions about his well-being - whether he was eating healthy, if he was comfortable in his dorm, if he was doing well in classes… the typical motherly stuff. Then they asked what house Harry was in, at which Harry had smiled, finally having some good news to give. But then they asked if people were nice in Hogwarts and if he had made friends and his mood worsened. 

Harry had wanted to laugh. He had made friends, but they were nothing like he had expected. And while they could be considered nice, he felt like he was being used by Ron and Hermione. Sure, they had been kind in the Hogwarts Express and Ron had invited him to play with them just now, but they were still comfortable not talking to him outside of the common room so he could spy for them. As for the plastics, he wasn't sure why Malfoy had invited him to join them, but he made Harry feel nervous with his sole present so that couldn't possibly be good, right? And some of the comments they'd made were very rude by Harry's standards. So no, definitely people at Hogwarts were not nice. But he didn't know them well enough yet and he couldn't say he wasn't enjoying his stay in the castle because he feared his mother would freak out and take him out of school and back to being homeschooled. 

He didn't want that. He had wanted to know what life at Hogwarts was like and whilst it had been nothing like he had expected so far, he wasn't willing to let go of the chance to have a great time and meet his real best friends there like his parents had. 

So he went to the owlery and wrote a short note, explaining that he was perfectly fine, that he had met awesome people from various houses and that he was proud to be a Gryffindor like his mom and dad. He left out his encounter with Snape and the fact he had already lost 20 points and been given detention. They would be pleased with what he'd written, Harry reckoned, even if it was all half-true. He might have something interesting to say when he writes to them next week. Something honest to say, at least. 

For the moment, he was content with that letter so he sent Hedwig off.

As Harry descended the stairs, his heart raced as he collided with a girl, nearly tumbling over. 'I'm sorry!' he stammered, trying to steady himself.

'No worries,' she replied, her voice gentle and reassuring. 'You're the new student, aren't you?'

'Yeah,' Harry nodded, his gaze lingering on her. She was pretty, with dark, long, straight hair that seemed to be sparking 'I'm Harry, Harry Potter.'

'Nice to meet you, Harry. I'm Cho Chang,' she said, her smile warm and inviting.

'Nice to meet you too,' Harry responded, feeling a sense of excitement stirring within him. 'Er… See you soon! I mean, I hope to see you around… Well, bye.'

'Bye, Harry,' Cho said, her eyes sparkling with warmth as he walked away.

Harry couldn’t help but think about that brief encounter as he descended the stairs. Cho was stunning and had a smile that made his heart skip a beat. He couldn't help but feel some kind of attraction towards her, a desire to get to know her better. Harry wondered if that was what having a crush felt like. He had never had a crush on someone, as his paranoid parents had kept him from going to school and meeting girls his age, but he had heard what being in love was like.

His father's analogy resonated with him deeply. Falling in love was like falling off your broom — an exhilarating mixture of excitement and fear, trusting that someone would catch you when you had no way of knowing if they would. It was a leap of faith, a plunge into the unknown, yet the thrill of it all was undeniable.

His mother's description added another layer to the complexity of love. Beautiful, yet exasperating. Spending every living hour consumed by thoughts of someone, yearning to be in their presence even if it meant exposing the most vulnerable parts of oneself. It was a paradox, a blend of sweetness and frustration that left one perpetually intoxicated with longing.

Remus's words offered reassurance amidst the uncertainty. He was sure Harry would know when he met the right person when it felt like fate had intervened to bring them together. It would be a connection that transcended logic—a love that felt destined to be.

Sirius's advice was the most practical one. He said that before delving into the depths of love, Harry must first understand what it meant to have a crush on someone. It began with a funny feeling in the stomach, a desire to unravel the mysteries of that person's soul. 

Reflecting on these perspectives, Harry found himself grappling with his own emotions. He couldn't claim to be in love with Cho — after all, he barely knew her. But he was undeniably drawn to her, captivated by her presence and intrigued by the possibility of getting to know her better. It was attraction, according to Sirius’s words, though Harry was not so sure.

After all, he also felt drawn to Malfoy and wanted to get to know him, even if he wasn’t a girl. If Harry was honest with himself, he could say he had felt even more drawn to Malfoy when his piercing grey eyes had locked with his own emerald ones for the first time – and during potions that morning – than now with Cho. Malfoy's enigmatic aura sparked a craving within Harry to unravel the mysteries hidden beneath his icy exterior, while he just felt a pang of frustration at having lost the opportunity to talk to Cho a bit further. Therefore, what he felt for Cho couldn’t be attraction, because according to Sirius's definition that would make him attracted to Malfoy too and that was simply off the table. Not only because he was a boy and Harry considered himself to be straight, but also because while charming, Malfoy could be dangerous if Ron and Hermione were to be believed. 

But he still wondered what Malfoy would say if Harry did indeed develop feelings for Cho Chang at some point. He didn’t want him to sneer at him in disapproval and he had a feeling that’s what he would do.

In Pansy's extensive list of rules, which he hadn't finished reading even though apparently breaking one of them would mean excluding him from the plastics, it said that every time he thought he had a crush on someone he had to tell them because it might be the wrong person for him and he wouldn't know it because he was new. 

Harry didn't want to tell them, though. He had barely met Cho and yes, he had thought she was beautiful and he couldn't help but wonder what getting to know her would be like, but he didn't want the plastics to interfere in his love life. Not now that he didn’t even have one, nor ever would he want Draco Malfoy involved in his romantic life. It could only end in disaster, of that Harry was sure.

Having friends was too tiring, he concluded with a sigh as he made his way to his common room where Ron and Hermione would be waiting for him to tell them everything he had heard the plastics say. 

Chapter Text

Harry entered the bathroom before sunrise on the morning of the fourth of September. He was getting used to sleeping with more people, but he still wasn’t able to fall asleep if Ron was already snoring next to him. So, he had resorted to going to sleep before him in hopes of being able to rest without having to leave his own bed. That morning, though, he had decided to wake up before the rest so he could have time to prepare himself without being laughed at. With the dim light that his Lumos provided, Harry stared at his reflection in the mirror, pondering the best way to incorporate pink into his attire without violating the strict uniform code.

Honestly, who had come up with that stupid rule about wearing pink once a week? He bet it had been Parkinson, she came across as the type. That rule rivalled in stupidity the one about having to tell each other if they had changed their skincare routine – probably Parkinson’s idea too. 

Harry didn't even have a skincare routine, he barely washed his face from time to time. Wasn't showering enough? He couldn't even fathom why someone would feel the need to apply anything else to their face. But if their skincare routine was the reason why the plastics always looked impeccable, maybe they were onto something.

Having to wear something pink just because it was Wednesday made no sense, though. And the problem was, Harry didn’t even know what he was going to wear as he didn’t have any accessories (which was what Draco Malfoy had suggested on the first day of school). Finally, he decided to turn his glasses pink, because it was the only thing he was willing to wear besides his uniform.

But wearing pink glasses and not looking like a fool apparently weren’t compatible. At least, not on Harry’s first attempt. So he spent a lot of time trying different styles and tonalities of pink, looking for the perfect look. He spent so much time worrying about his little issue, thinking the plastics would abandon him if he didn’t pass this first little test, that Seamus, Neville and Dean all entered and exited the bathroom during that time. Each one of them laughed at the image of the new kid wearing such extravagant glasses and Seamus even suggested getting a pink ribbon to match the glasses. Harry blushed at the comment and flipped him off.

By the time Ron, the sleepiest of all of them woke up and made his entrance to the bathroom, his hair tousled from sleep, Harry still hadn’t decided what to do.

'Bloody hell. What are you doing, mate?' Ron asked, confusion etched on his face as he watched Harry's futile attempts.

'I'm trying to turn my glasses pink… but I hate this tone. I'm looking for a tone that doesn't look completely ridiculous,' Harry explained, frustration evident in his voice.

'Why?'

'The plastics said they wear pink on Wednesdays.'

'But we wear uniforms…?' Ron's scepticism was evident as he struggled to understand the logic behind the tradition.

'That's what I said! But apparently they wear pink accessories, whatever those are. I don't have any, so…' Harry's voice trailed off, his frustration palpable.

'Well, you look like a poncy twat. So if that's the look you're going for, I'd say you're nailing it,' Ron quipped, unable to suppress a smirk.

'Ha. Ha. Thank you,' Harry retorted, his annoyance evident as he gazed at his reflection in the mirror. The pink-tinted glasses clashed horribly with his Gryffindor uniform, or so he thought, because all he could see with the glasses on was pink. The sight made him feel more out of place than ever.

As Ron's laughter filled the room, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of embarrassment wash over him. 'This is your fault, so you can't laugh!'

Ron's laughter only intensified at Harry's protest. 'Well, yeah. Your fault too, though. Malfoy wouldn't have said anything to you if you weren't… what was it, beautiful?' He chuckled, barely able to get the words out between fits of laughter.

Harry felt a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck. 'Very pretty, he said, and fuck off. It's simply because I'm new and he was messing with me. He didn't mean it.'

'It's still fun. Come on, you don't look that bad,' Ron reassured him, his laughter finally subsiding as he clapped Harry on the back.

With a resigned shrug, Harry changed his glasses’s glass back to transparent and turned the glasses’ frame a light pink. He then followed Ron out of the bathroom and, after changing into their Gryffindor robes, down to the common room where Hermione awaited them. Or Ron, Harry corrected in his mind. He still hadn't forgotten how they hadn’t waited for him on the first day of classes. 

'New style, Harry?' Hermione's voice cut through the chatter, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she took in Harry's new glasses. ‘I love the confidence.’

Harry snorted nervously, adjusting the glasses on his nose. 'Thanks? It's because of the plastics, we have to wear something pink every Wednesday.'

Hermione raised an eyebrow in surprise 'Yeah, they do that,' she remarked, as a huge, almost wild grin started to cover her face. 'I wasn't expecting them to make you do it too, though. Not yet, at least. You must be getting along better than I thought!'

'Wait. They already did that?' Ron interjected, his brow furrowing in confusion. ‘I never noticed.’

Hermione shot him a withering look. 'Ron, that's because you've got the observational skills of a flobberworm in a dark room - utterly nonexistent and completely useless!' she quipped, her lips curling into a playful smirk. ‘You’re lucky you’ve never worn pink on a Wednesday.’

‘I wouldn’t wear pink anyways, no matter the day,’ Harry couldn't help but laugh at Hermione's disgusted face, grateful for the brief moment of levity amidst the morning chaos. Ron shrugged nervously ‘I just don’t like it.’

Hermione's frustration was palpable as she let out a deep sigh, her eyes narrowed. 'Anyways,' she began, her tone tinged with irritation, 'Yes, Parkinson, Zabini, and Malfoy have been wearing pink on Wednesdays since third year. No one else does, not even Crabbe or Goyle. That's why I think it's an improvement that Harry has been included in their tradition. It means they think you're one of them!'

Harry shrugged nonchalantly, his gaze drifting off for a moment before returning to Hermione. ‘That’s cool, I guess,' he replied, his tone lacking any real excitement.

'It’s more than cool, Harry!' Hermione insisted, her voice rising with a hint of urgency. 'This is a big deal! I don’t know what Malfoy was thinking when he invited you to be part of their group, especially after you’d been sorted into Gryffindor!'

Ron's grin widened mischievously as he interjected, 'Probably he was thinking about Harry’s prettiness.' He nudged Harry playfully, earning an eye roll in response.

'Shut up’.

But Hermione was undeterred by their banter, her determination shining through. '…it doesn’t matter, though,' she continued, her eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. 'The thing is, he’s made a big mistake. That decision will blow all over his face!'

Ron's excitement bubbled up at the prospect, his expression lighting up with anticipation. 'Yeah!'

'Yeah…' Harry echoed, though his voice trailed off, his thoughts drifting to silver eyes and gracious smiles. He wasn’t sure that the plastics really deserved to be played like that, despite some of the comments he had heard them make.

As they made their way to the Great Hall, Harry couldn't help but notice the subtle glances and hushed whispers directed his way. It dawned on him that wearing pink on a Wednesday wasn't just a fashion statement; it was a badge of belonging, a marker of status among Hogwarts students. Hermione had been right, wearing pink on a Wednesday really was a big deal and Harry didn’t know how to feel about it. 

'It's because you're with us,' She clarified, her voice cutting through the murmurs around them. 'They don’t know if you’re actually one of the plastics or if you’ve dared wear their Wednesday’s look without being part of them. It’s hot gossip and people at Hogwarts love it.'

The weight of Hermione's words settled heavily on Harry's shoulders as they entered the bustling Great Hall. Being homeschooled his whole life, he wasn't accustomed to being the centre of attention or the subject of such speculation. Each gaze felt like a spotlight, each whisper a piercing reminder of his newfound presence in the intricate social web of Hogwarts. He felt like an animal in a zoo, on display for everyone's curiosity and scrutiny, his every move dissected and analyzed by the watching eyes around him. It was a sensation both overwhelming and unsettling, leaving him longing a tad for the anonymity of his former life.

His gaze was immediately drawn to the Slytherin table where the plastics held court. Pansy Parkinson sported a conspicuous pink ribbon in her hair, while Blaise Zabini elegantly draped a pink scarf around his neck. However, Harry couldn't help but notice the absence of any pink adornment on Draco Malfoy's person.

That caught Harry’s attention. He’d spent hours preparing himself because of the Pink on Wednesdays rule and yet Draco Malfoy, the leader of the group didn’t care to follow said group’s rules. He felt ridiculous for a second for believing Parkinson when she had said any of them would be kicked out of the group if they didn’t follow any of the rules; she probably had been exaggerating or trying to scare Harry off. Or maybe those rules simply applied to anyone but Draco Malfoy.

That thought angered Harry for some reason. 

He ate his breakfast without looking away from the Slytherin table, daring Malfoy to look at him and see he was taking their friendship offer seriously by wearing pink despite feeling ridiculous, unlike him. But he didn’t look his way. Nor did Pansy or Blaise, for that matter. The lot of them seemed too immersed in whatever they were talking about - probably some kind of gossip Pansy had heard of, as she seemed to be the one talking the most, her head bent on the table so only the other members of the plastics could hear her. 

Harry didn’t want his efforts to go unnoticed, and as he didn’t share any classes with the plastics on Wednesdays, he realised if he didn’t approach them now, they wouldn’t ever know he had worn pink. So he finished his breakfast quickly and stood up, earning curious looks from Hermione and Ron.

As Harry approached the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, he couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation mingled with a touch of nervousness, which only increased when Draco Malfoy caught his eye and smirked, no doubt judging his new glasses. If Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini weren’t wearing pink, Harry would think he had been pranked by the most popular group at Hogwarts. But since that was not the case, he was just mad Malfoy got away with not looking like a total idiot like Harry was feeling.

The second person to notice him was Pansy Parkinson, as she looked behind her to see who Draco was smiling at. She moved aside to make room for him to sit beside her, in front of Draco and Blaise. Harry thanked her and sat there, although he was not sure if sitting at another house’s table was allowed. He had only wanted to greet them, after all, not sit with them. But after looking at the Professors’ Table and seeing no one was paying him any mind, he reckoned it was alright.

'Nice glasses, Potter,' Pansy remarked then. Her voice was laced with a hint of admiration as her eyes flickered over Harry's frames.

Harry's lips curved into a grateful smile at the unexpected compliment. 'They're even more fetch now,' Pansy added, a playful glint dancing in her gaze. Malfoy, who sat immediately in front of her rolled his eyes annoyingly at the use of the word. 

'Thanks,' Harry replied, feeling a flush of pride at the unexpected praise. 'I like your ribbon,' he continued, turning his attention to Pansy. 'And Blaise, your scarf is cool too.'

Blaise's chest swelled with pride at the compliment, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 'Made in France. My third stepfather got it for me,' he boasted, his voice tinged with a hint of satisfaction. 'I've been told it looks fantastic on me. But it’s no surprise, everything does.'

Harry's eyes sparkled with genuine admiration as he took in Blaise's confident demeanour, his scarf draped effortlessly around his shoulders like a symbol of his sophistication and style. 'Whoever told you that, they were right,' Harry replied, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

As the conversation flowed, Harry couldn't help but notice Malfoy's subdued expression, a flicker of annoyance flashing across his features as he seemed to withdraw into himself. He probably was mad because he was the only one who hadn’t been complimented by Harry and he wanted to get some attention.

Spoiled brat… You’re not even wearing pink and it’s your rule!

‘Why are you not wearing pink?’ 

Malfoy locked eyes with him and raised an eyebrow, managing once more to get Harry on his nerves. He smiled, pleased at being acknowledged at last.

'Oh, but I am. It's subtle, yet elegant,' The blond retorted. He extended his hand, displaying the exquisite silver rings that adorned his fingers with a subtle flourish. Each ring gleamed in the soft light of the Great Hall, casting a delicate shimmer that caught Harry's eye.

The rings were crafted with meticulous precision, their smooth silver bands adorned with intricate designs that spoke of elegance and refinement. Delicate pink gemstones were nestled within the silver settings, their soft hue contrasting beautifully against the polished metal.

As Harry studied the rings, he couldn't help but admire their craftsmanship. The pink gemstones seemed to shimmer with a subtle radiance, casting a rosy glow that danced in the light. Etched into the silver bands were the unmistakable symbols of the Malfoy crest and the Slytherin serpent, their intricate details adding an air of sophistication to the jewellery.

Despite himself, Harry found himself drawn to the rings, captivated by their beauty and the aura of privilege they exuded. There was something undeniably alluring about the way they adorned Draco's long, refined fingers, a testament to his status and influence within the Slytherin circle. Thinking about Draco’s fingers stirred a peculiar sensation within Harry, sending a flurry of unfamiliar emotions coursing through his veins. He averted his gaze, although reluctantly. The rings really were almost as beautiful as their owner.

Draco gave him a slow once over and said unexpectedly 'Pink does suit you, but let me guess… You don't have any accessories, that's why you changed your glasses' colour.'

Harry chuckled at Draco's keen observation. 'Is it that obvious?' he replied, glad about having an excuse not to think about Draco’s rings anymore.

'Terribly,' Pansy chimed in, her tone teasing as she joined in the conversation. Blaise simply nodded, as if it was completely obvious.

Draco flashed Harry a knowing smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement. 'We'll have to go shopping on the next Hogsmeade visit,' he suggested. 'You certainly need it. Until then… you'll have to survive somehow.'

Harry nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of excitement at the prospect of spending more time with his tentative new friends. 'I'll think of something,' he replied with a grin.

'Good boy,' Draco said and Harry smiled at him, but he couldn’t help the shiver that went down his spine at Draco’s teasing yet approving tone. He tried to ignore the strange flutter in his stomach, the way his heart seemed to beat a little faster in response to Draco's words. But the more he tried to push aside his feelings, the more they seemed to bubble to the surface, refusing to be ignored. 

Unable to shake the sense of unease that lingered within him, Harry suddenly found himself standing up, his movements abrupt and rather impulsive. His sudden action caught the attention of his classmates, their curious gazes following him as he made his hasty retreat.

'Well, I’ve got to go. See you after classes!' Harry called out, the words tumbling from his lips before he could fully process them. It was a feeble attempt to deflect the attention away from himself, a desperate bid to escape the overwhelming intensity of the moment.

As he hurried away from the Great Hall, Harry could feel the weight of Draco's gaze burning into his back, a silent reminder of the enigmatic allure that the Slytherin held over him. And as Blaise's voice echoed in his ears, promising to meet by the Black Lake, accompanied by Pansy’s distant laughter – probably at something Draco had said and hopefully not at Harry’s expense – Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation coursing through his veins, mingling with the strange, unfamiliar sensations that pulsed beneath his skin.

In the midst of Herbology class, surrounded by the twisting vines of Venomous Tentacula, the trio worked together while Harry told them all about his morning conversation with the plastics.

'I bet they’ll take you to the poshest shops in Hogsmeade. Be prepared to lose all of your money, mate!' Ron remarked, his voice carrying a touch of humour as they carefully handled the dangerous plants.

Harry, carefully avoiding the snapping tendrils, paused to respond. 'I’m not buying anything I don’t like or I think is not worth its price, no matter what they say. My parents would kill me!'

'You don’t have to buy anything,' Hermione interjected, her voice tinged with practicality. 'I personally find their obsession with buying the most expensive clothes available completely stupid and disgusting. But do be appreciative and polite when they give you some suggestions; it’s in our best interests that you stay on their good side.'

Ron, eyeing the tentacula warily, chimed in  'It’s a pity you’re not coming to the Three Broomsticks with us, though.'

Harry felt a twinge of annoyance at Ron's comment  'Do I have to remind you this was your idea? I’d rather go grab a butterbeer, but I can’t turn them down now!'

'Hey, chill out. I’m sure it will be funny,' Ron reassured him, his tone light.

'Besides, you can’t back out now,' Hermione added, her voice taking on a more serious tone. 'Think about everything we’ve discovered so far!'

'And what is that? You already thought Malfoy was a git, has that changed somehow?' Harry asked, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

'Of course not! But now we know, not just suspect, that he’s not only mean to us. He’s mean to his friends too! I’m sure we can use this somehow to get him for once, I just have to think how…' Hermione's voice trailed off, her mind already racing with possibilities.

Harry sighed, feeling a mixture of exasperation and sympathy. 'I think you should leave him alone. Don’t bother him and he won’t bother you. Everyone wins.'

'Are you nuts? He’s Draco Malfoy, you can’t just ignore him. He’s always there,' Ron protested.

Hermione regarded Harry with a searching gaze, her expression contemplative. 'Harry. Do you like Draco Malfoy?'

'What?' Harry gasped, caught off guard by her question.

'WHAT?!' Ron exclaimed, drawing the attention of their classmates. Hermione quickly reassured Professor Sprout that everything was fine.

'Don't look at me like that, I meant as a friend!' Hermione clarified, her words cutting through the tension in the air. Harry and Ron remained silent, though Harry felt a sense of vulnerability wash over him at Hermione's probing gaze.

'I've got the feeling that you still haven't realised what kind of person he is, despite the time you've spent with him,' Hermione continued, her voice soft but insistent. 'I can't highlight this enough: He is not your friend. You might think he is, with his bright smiles, thoughtful gestures, and personal gifts…' She trailed off, her gaze distant.

Harry furrowed his brow, confusion mingling with frustration. He hadn't received any gifts from Draco nor had he done anything great for him besides letting him join their group, so he didn’t understand what Hermione was talking about. What he couldn't deny, though, was that Draco did have an awesome smile.

'But trust me when I tell you the minute he doesn’t find you interesting anymore, he'll throw you away and in the most horrible of ways. That's what he does. He's the wrong sort!' Hermione's words hung heavy in the air, the weight of her warning sinking in.

'I know he's not kind, exactly,' Harry reassured her, though a frown creased his brow. 'But he hasn't done anything horrible yet. Let me judge for myself. Do you think I can't tell who the wrong sort are on my own?'

'If you think Malfoy's anything but evil, then you bloody can't,' Ron deadpanned. 'But we don't blame you; we know you don't have much experience being homeschooled and all.'

Harry felt a surge of anger rising within him at Ron's words. 'Well, that’s settled then,' he said disdainfully, his frustration boiling over. 'Poor Harry Potter doesn’t have the foggiest idea of what he’s getting into, but you still want him to spend time with whom you consider to be the worst people on earth. But oh, he’s in the wrong for thinking they’re not that bad after all after actually spending some time with them, unlike you.'

Hermione and Ron exchanged a meaningful look, their silent communication leaving Harry feeling isolated. How could they be so hypocritical? Warning him about the plastics using him when they were doing the same thing?

'You can have your own opinions, Harry. We’re just warning you,' Hermione said gently, her tone softening. 'We know your position isn’t the best and we appreciate what you’re doing for us. We just want you to be cautious and not fall for their game. They aren’t your friends, they’re trying to get something out of you. Just like you’re getting something out of them. Sooner rather than later, you’ll realise that.'

Harry took a deep breath, his anger slowly dissipating. He needed to relax, or he would risk losing the only friends he had made, even if they weren't exactly what he had imagined.

'I’m sorry for losing my temper,' he finally said, his voice contrite.

'It’s okay,' Hermione reassured him with a smile.

'Yeah, I think I’d lose my mind too if I had to spend that much time around the plastics,' Ron added with an easy laugh, breaking the tension. Harry couldn't help but snort in response.

'We’re meeting after classes too,' Harry commented. After Hermione nodded approvingly, they focused on finishing their task before the class ended.

The afternoon sun cast dappled shadows beneath the sprawling branches of the tree beside the Black Lake, where Harry found himself reclining alongside the plastics. Draco, his head nestled comfortably in Pansy's lap, appeared entirely at ease as she idly ran her fingers through his platinum blonde locks, a gentle smile gracing her lips. Harry couldn't help but notice how Draco's hair seemed to catch the sunlight, appearing soft and inviting under Pansy's touch. For a moment, he found himself imagining what it would be like to run his own fingers through that silky mane, to feel the texture beneath his fingertips. But the thought quickly fled as he realised the absurdity of such a notion, tearing his gaze away before his imagination could run any further.

Beside them, Blaise lounged against the sturdy trunk of the tree, a playful grin on his face as he plucked the petals from a daisy with childlike amusement. Each petal plucked away seemed to bring a sparkle to his features, his expression one of carefree enjoyment. Harry watched him for some time and in that moment, surrounded by the tranquil beauty of the lake and the comforting shade of the tree, he couldn't help but feel a flicker of warmth stir within him, a fleeting glimpse of the camaraderie and connection he so desperately craved.

The gentle rustle of leaves overhead provided a soothing backdrop to their conversation. Harry realised he was enjoying himself, way more than he had anticipated. Even if he didn’t have much to say, he still liked to listen to Draco and Pansy discussing the day’s gossip. But as Blaise took the final petal from the daisy, a sudden interruption shattered the peace.

A beautiful blonde Slytherin girl walked hand in hand with a darker blond Ravenclaw boy close to them, their entwined fingers drawing the attention of Harry and Blaise. The latter’s flower fell to the ground, forgotten, as he watched them with a mixture of horror and disbelief.

'Fuck. Look, it’s Daphne… With Goldstein,' Blaise muttered, his expression darkening with sorrow. Harry couldn't help but notice the sadness that crept into Blaise's eyes, a stark contrast to his usual confidence.

'What?' Pansy exclaimed, her gaze following Blaise's to the unexpected pair. 'But you two have been flirting since last year!'

Blaise's sadness was palpable as he shrugged. 'Well… Maybe they’re cousins or something and we didn’t know.'

'We would know if they were cousins. I would, at least,' Pansy snapped, her frustration evident.

'First cousins, then,' Blaise muttered dejectedly.

'It’s the same thing!' Pansy retorted, her tone sharp. 'Anyways, that doesn’t look like they’re friends, related, or anything of the sort.'

'I guess… She got over it during the summer,' Blaise mumbled, his disappointment evident.

'I’m sorry, Blaise,' Harry offered, his sympathy genuine. Blaise didn’t look at him, but nodded, his sadness lingering like a heavy cloud.

'No,' Draco interjected, his voice low and determined as he rose to his feet to get a better look at the pair. 'She can’t do that to you. Besides, wasn’t Goldstein dating Mandy Brocklehurst?'

'Nuh-uh,' Pansy chimed in. 'They broke up a month ago, but he was seen snogging Susan Bones and Amelia Fittleworth recently!'

'Let’s start the rumour Goldstein has infectious mononucleosis for being such a whore,' Draco proposed, his eyes gleaming with mischief. Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of discomfort at the suggestion, but he remained silent, intrigued by the power dynamics at play.

'Daphne won’t want to be near him once she hears about it, just in case. And that’s when you’ll approach her again,' Draco continued, his gaze locking with Pansy's. She nodded eagerly, her determination matching his own.

'I’ll take care of it,' she promised. 'It’s for her own good, really. Fittleworth did say she was rather displeased by his snogging abilities… Our Blaise would be a much better candidate!'

'I sure would!' Blaise exclaimed, a hint of hope creeping back into his voice. Harry was amazed by the ease with which they discussed manipulating others for their own ends. He thought he was finally getting what Hermione and Ron had meant when they’d described the plastics as evil life-ruiners. However, he couldn't deny the allure of their confidence, the sense of belonging they exuded. It made him feel both uneasy and oddly exhilarated, a glimpse into a world where power and influence held sway.

While he didn't believe it was ethical to spread rumours solely for someone else's advantage, he couldn't help but find it intriguing that they possessed the ability to do so. It was fascinating how, with mere words, Draco Malfoy could influence someone's reputation and potentially ruin their whole life. The fact that Draco had wielded this power for the sake of a friend left Harry feeling a mix of emotions. He found himself strangely comforted by the notion that Draco might extend similar protection to him, making him feel valued and secure for once. He liked it, deep down. What kind of person did that make him?

'Fittleworth, you said?' Draco's voice broke the silence, drawing the attention of the group once more and freeing Harry from his uncomfortable existential thoughts. As he settled back into his spot on Pansy's lap, his leg inadvertently brushed against Harry's knee. A jolt of nervous excitement shot through Harry, but he remained still, his heart racing in his chest. Draco didn’t move his leg either.

'I heard she’s replacing Summerby as the Hufflepuff seeker. Easy win,' Draco continued, his tone casual despite the underlying competitiveness. 

Harry remembered then that Draco was the Slytherin seeker, as Ron had said on the first day of term. A sense of sadness washed over him as he realised he could have played against him if Snape hadn’t given him detention. It still hurt that he wouldn’t be able to try out, considering he honestly thought he could have made it into the team if given the chance. 

'What about the game against Ravenclaw?' Pansy interjected, her brow furrowed with concern. 'It’s the second one of the season. What are you going to do?'

Draco's expression turned thoughtful as he pondered her question. Harry listened intently, trying to figure out why Ravenclaw would pose such a challenge. According to Ginny, they weren’t that good. 'I still need to think about that. I’ll figure something out, of that I’m sure… I’m not losing the Quidditch cup because of some girl’s sensitivities!'

Harry couldn't help but snort at Draco's confident declaration, even though he was still unsure of the context of their conversation.

'True,' Pansy and Blaise chimed in easily, their agreement echoing Draco's sentiments.

'The Weaslette’s the new Gryffindor captain,' Draco continued, his tone dripping with disdain. Harry realised he must be referring to Ginny. Despite his discomfort at the derogatory nickname, Harry remained silent, unwilling to disrupt the conversation.

'She’s probably continuing as the Gryffindor seeker, but that’s no problem at all. Last year I managed just fine…' Draco trailed off, lost in thought.

'She doesn’t want to be the seeker,' Harry interjected suddenly, surprising himself as much as the others. They turned to him with wide eyes, as if they had forgotten he was there. 'She’d like to be a chaser, but she needs to find a good seeker first. The tryouts are on Saturday. I was going to try out, but now I have detention so…'

'Wait. You can fly?' Blaise interrupted, his eyes widening with curiosity. ‘With a broom?’

'Yeah? And I’m an awesome seeker,' Harry replied, his confidence shining through despite his nerves.

'Oh, really? I wonder if you’d be able to beat me,' Draco mused, his interest piqued. 'Slytherin has won the Quidditch cup for over 20 years and I’ve been the Slytherin seeker for four of those.'

'We could have a seeker’s match someday since we won’t be able to compete in the real game,' Harry suggested, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice. He had ever only played against his father and he would like to prove himself by playing against a good player his age.

'You bet,' Draco agreed readily, a spark of anticipation lighting up his eyes.

'You’re going to lose, Potter. I don’t know why you even try,' Pansy interjected, always quick to support Draco. She was looking at him for approval, but his eyes were glued to Harry’s.

'It might be fun,' Harry shrugged, exchanging an intense look with the blond.

'It sure will be,' Draco replied, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Harry felt a warmth spread through him at the sight, even though he still struggled to understand the dynamics at play.

Even as he went back to his dormitory that night, Harry didn’t know if he had committed a great mistake by offering to play against Draco. Was that allowed by the plastics' rules? Would Ron and Hermione think that he had crossed a line by challenging him, thus messing their whole revenge plan up?

It didn’t matter, he thought in the end. He wanted to play with Draco Malfoy and apparently, he wanted to play with Harry too. He wouldn’t comment on it to Ron and Hermione and that would be it. Should something go wrong, Harry would face the consequences, but he was not going to take every decision thinking about what his friends might say. Besides, the plastics weren’t that bad. Not if you were on their side. 

And Harry was. 

Chapter Text

Each step Harry took felt heavier than the last, the weight of disappointment pressing down on him like a leaden cloak. The corridors of Hogwarts, usually bustling with energy and excitement, now seemed eerily silent, amplifying the turmoil raging within him. The fact that every student who was awake that early on a Saturday morning was probably now on the Quidditch pitch had a lot to do with it.

That day’s Quidditch tryouts—the very essence of Harry’s expectations for Hogwarts, his one opportunity to prove himself worthy of the Gryffindor seeker position—loomed over him like an ominous storm cloud. Yet, as he trudged towards Snape's office, a sinking feeling gnawed at his insides.

Harry had wondered more than once if he should have begged Ginny to change the date for the tryouts. She came across as a very easy-going, likeable person, after all. Surely she wouldn’t have minded doing the tryouts one day or the other. But at the same time, Harry had noticed she was a firm, tough person you shouldn’t cross if you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of a nasty bat-bogey hex. And who knew, maybe she was fed up with trying to organise the tryouts in a way that worked for everyone. Harry was no friend of hers – not yet, at least – to be asking for special treatment. Maybe it wasn’t even possible to change the tryouts date once it had been decided. Who knew? Harry certainly didn’t, he hadn’t ever been in a school team before. 

Besides, if Ron hadn’t even suggested talking to her, it probably wasn’t an option. 'Tough luck, mate,' that’s all Ron had had to say every time Harry had complained about not being able to attend the tryouts. His words had cut through Harry's hopes like a sharp blade. And it’s not like Ginny hadn’t known about Harry not being able to make it. She hadn’t directly talked to him about it, but she must have overheard it either during lunch or in the common room. Harry had made sure to talk high enough that she would hear, in hopes of getting her to give him a solution, an apology, something.

Harry thought, bitterly, that the reason why no one really cared about him not being able to try out was because they didn’t know him. They hadn’t ever seen him play, nor did they know him much, so him saying he was pretty good didn’t really matter to them. Harry understood they couldn’t accommodate everything for him, someone who could potentially be a very good or a very bad Quidditch player, but it still hurt. It hurt because Harry knew that he was good enough and he wanted to show them.

Maybe he should have asked Snape to change the date of the detention instead of asking Ginny to reschedule, Harry thought as he neared his office, but he had the feeling it wouldn’t have been a good enough excuse for Snape. He probably would’ve been delighted at the prospect of ruining Harry’s life a bit more. The git had already made it clear that he despised Harry above all of his peers, and for some reason Harry had yet to discover. The first class’s humiliation had only been the beginning, and it had been followed by a whole week of asking Harry the most difficult questions, using him for practising hexes, insulting Harry’s abilities despite him being one of the best students at DADA and deducting points from Gryffindor at every given opportunity. It made Harry’s blood boil with anger and exhaustion, but he had remained mostly quiet, not willing to land himself in detention again so quickly.

Now, heading to Snape’s office, he could barely keep his anger at bay. But alongside the anger was a sense of resignation—a reluctant acceptance of his circumstances, however unfair they might seem.

As he reached Snape's door and raised his hand to knock, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gripped him. What would Snape make him do now that they were alone? If the man couldn’t help but show his abhorrence towards Harry in front of the rest of the students, he clearly would behave way more cruelly now that there was no one else.

With a heavy heart and a resolve tempered by uncertainty, Harry steeled himself for whatever punishment awaited him behind Snape's office door. The only certainty in his mind was that he had to face it head-on, no matter the cost. And maybe, if the punishment was quick, he could go to the tryouts and ask Ginny to do a quick test to see if he was good enough.

The door swung open, revealing Snape's sallow face framed by greasy black hair. The potions master's sneer seemed to deepen at the sight of Harry, as if relishing in his discomfort.

Harry's jaw tightened, his gaze meeting Snape's with defiance burning in his emerald eyes. Anger and frustration churned within him, a tempest threatening to consume him whole.

As Harry stood before Snape, the tension in the air was palpable, crackling like static electricity. Snape's thin-lipped sneer seemed etched into his sallow features, his dark eyes glinting with a mixture of disdain and frustration, the lines of his face etched with annoyance.

'Potter. You're excused,' Snape's voice sliced through the silence like a blade, his tone laced with irritation at the turn of events. It seemed like it physically hurt him to say those words.

Harry blinked in disbelief, unsure if he had heard correctly. 'What?' he stammered, his mind struggling to process Snape's sudden change of heart.

'Didn't your dear friend Draco Malfoy tell you?' Snape's voice dripped with thinly veiled contempt. 'You don't have detention anymore.'

Harry's confusion deepened, a knot of uncertainty tightening in his stomach. What had Draco Malfoy had to do with any of this? He certainly hadn’t told Harry anything related to Snape, but maybe he had forgotten.

'I don't understand, sir,' Harry admitted, his voice tinged with disbelief.

'Of course you don't,' Snape retorted dismissively, his frustration evident in the way his jaw clenched tightly. 'How you managed to get any OWLs at all remains a mystery. You can go, Potter. Thank Mr. Malfoy.'

With a sense of bewilderment still swirling in his mind, Harry turned to leave, his footsteps heavy with uncertainty. But before he could make his escape, Snape's voice cut through the air once more, sharp and cutting.

'Potter,' Snape's tone was cold, a thinly veiled mask for the frustration that simmered beneath the surface. 'There are other ways of punishing insolent students. I don't want to see you being anything like your father.'

Harry's breath caught in his throat at the mention of his father, a surge of defiant pride rising within him. 'My father is a great man,' he retorted, locking eyes with the professor.

Snape's lip curled in a snarl of frustration, his patience wearing thin. 'Are you sure about that?' he snapped, the words dripping with venom as he abruptly closed the door in Harry's face, cutting off any further opportunity for debate.

Left standing alone in the corridor, Harry's mind raced with conflicting emotions. Confusion warred with gratitude, uncertainty mingled with hope. Snape's cryptic words lingered in his thoughts, a puzzle begging to be solved. Did Snape personally know his father? Was that why he disliked Harry so much? He would have to ask his parents about it, if they had any issue with Snape that could potentially ruin Harry’s Defense NEWT, he’d rather know.

He decided to leave that train of thought for later because he had more important things to do now. As his feet carried him swiftly through the corridors of Hogwarts, a surge of hope and gratitude flooded his senses, buoying his spirits to new heights. Draco Malfoy's unexpected intervention had granted him a reprieve from Snape's clutches, a chance to pursue his dreams of Quidditch glory. The weight of gratitude towards his tentative friend bore heavily upon him, a debt he couldn't wait to repay.

He still remembered how on Wednesday he had wished Draco would do something nice for him, just like he had started a rumour about Goldstein to help Blaise. Harry had noticed throughout the week how Goldstein wasn’t seen around Daphne Greengrass anymore (and he had seen her once or twice with Blaise, so good for him) and how most girls started whispering when he was around and didn’t want to spend time with him because they thought he had an infectious illness. It was mean, Goldstein probably didn’t deserve it, but Draco had done it for Blaise. And now he had done something for Harry . Something bigger, he dare say. So he couldn’t help but feel glad he had Draco Malfoy as a friend.

With each step, Harry's anticipation grew, his heart pounding in his chest like the wings of a caged bird yearning for freedom. He reached the Gryffindor tower in record time, his eagerness propelling him forward as he dashed up the stairs to his dormitory.

In a flurry of motion, Harry shed his school robes and exchanged them for his Quidditch gear, the familiar fabric comforting against his skin like a second skin. With practised ease, he retrieved his broom—a Firebolt, a gift from his godfather Sirius Black on his fourteenth birthday—its sleek handle a testament to the bond they shared.

With his broom in hand and determination burning in his heart, Harry made his way to the Quidditch pitch, each step bringing him closer to his destiny.

Everyone was already there, but luckily, it seemed like the tryouts hadn’t started yet. With a burst of energy, Harry broke into a run, the wind whipping through his hair as he raced towards the waiting embrace of the Quidditch pitch. The sun beat down upon him, its golden rays warming his skin as if blessing his journey with its radiant glow.

With a grin of determination etched upon his features, Harry mounted his Firebolt and soared into the sky, the rush of wind against his face a symphony of freedom and exhilaration. The Quidditch pitch stretched out before him like a canvas waiting to be painted, its vast expanse a testament to the endless possibilities that lay ahead.

And as Harry joined some of his possible future teammates in the air, his heart soared alongside them, united in purpose and driven by a shared passion for the game they loved.

'Ok, gather up here!' Ginny's voice rang out then, authoritative and clear, drawing the attention of all those present. 'These are the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts, so anyone who is not a Gryffindor must leave. Now.'

The directive was met with a ripple of movement as a few Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students, drawn by Ginny's popularity among the boys – as Ron had grumpily explained to Harry one night –, reluctantly began to disperse, their disappointed murmurs barely audible over the rustle of robes and the flutter of wings.

'Hey, Harry! Did you skip your detention? That’s wicked!' Ron's voice broke through the chatter as he landed beside Harry, his expression a mix of disbelief and admiration.

'Actually, Malfoy got me out of detention,' Harry replied, unable to contain the grin that tugged at the corners of his lips. The warmth of gratitude swelled within him, filling his chest with a sense of overwhelming appreciation.

Ron's jaw dropped in shock, his eyes widening in disbelief. 'That’s so strange, why would he do that? And how? It’s Snape!'

Shrugging, Harry replied, 'No idea, but I’m not complaining.'

'Yeah, of course. And talking about Malfoy, look who’s in the stands,' Ron gestured towards the trio of Slytherins who had gathered on one of the stands, their presence a stark reminder of the division between houses. Ron’s tone was tinged with clear annoyance and suspicion as he said 'Argh. They’re trying to steal our strategies, no doubt.'

Ginny overheard Ron's complaint and interjected, her voice sharp with determination. 'Not for long, they can’t be here!'

Harry's eyes darted towards the Slytherins, noting the moment when Blaise Zabini's gaze locked onto his own. He hit Draco with the elbow and suddenly both Pansy and Blaise were waving at him. Draco didn’t wave, but he looked very smug about something, and the right corner of his upper lip was definitely up.

'I think they're here for me,' Harry remarked, a sense of happiness bubbling up inside him.

'Oh, right.’ Ginny now looked at him as if she was trying to solve a mystery ‘You're friends or something.' Her tone was sceptical. 

'Or something,' Harry agreed as he smiled back at Draco. He had saved him from Snape, after all. He still couldn’t fathom why, but he was very grateful.

'Well, I'm going to kick them out anyways,' Ginny declared, her resolve unwavering as she took off into the air. Ron looked proud of his sister's determination, while Harry couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment at the prospect of them missing out on his trial.

She wasn’t gone for long, but the conversation she had had with the Slytherins had seemed tense. As Ginny returned from her brief exchange, Harry couldn't help but notice the flush that stained her cheeks, a telltale sign of her unease.

'They said the tryouts are public. It's true, so there's nothing I can do,' Ginny explained, her voice tinged with frustration and embarrassment. Harry felt there was something more to it, but he didn't press. 

Ron's reaction was immediate, his anger flaring up like wildfire. 'What? That can’t be right! They’ll sabotage our practice!'

Harry felt torn as he watched his friend's outburst. On one hand, he understood Ron's concerns about the Slytherins potentially disrupting their practice. But on the other hand, a part of him couldn't help but feel a sense of relief at the prospect of Draco and his friends being allowed to stay. After all, they might be there for him . Supporting him , like friends do.

Shrugging nonchalantly, Harry met Ron's gaze with a small smile, offering a silent reassurance that everything would work out in the end. Ginny, meanwhile, remained silent, her attention already turning towards the task of organising the tryouts.

As the tryouts progressed, tension hung heavy in the air, each player vying for a coveted spot on the Gryffindor team. Ron's performance was solid, though Cormac McLaggen proved to be a formidable competitor. And when it came time for Harry to showcase his skills, he couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence coursing through him.

In the end, both Harry and Ron secured their places on the team, their accomplishments met with cheers and applause from their fellow Gryffindors. Ginny, ever the gracious captain, congratulated them both. Harry had to admit Ginny was very good, but he had caught the snitch way more times than her. She was happy to lend him her position, though. She couldn’t stop talking about having a real chance at winning this year.

With the tryouts complete and the team assembled, Harry's thoughts turned to celebration. He knew perfectly well who he wanted to celebrate his admission with, so as everyone was heading to the showers, Harry made his way towards the trio of Slytherins who had remained in the stands. In that ecstatic moment, he couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie towards the plastics.

'That was awesome, Potter!' Zabini was the first to congratulate Harry when he reached them. His voice carried genuine admiration and his eyes were glinting with a newfound respect, recognising Harry's skill and determination. Harry felt his cheeks go pink. He wasn’t used to compliments.

'Yeah, you're really talented, who would have thought?' Pansy's tone was teasing, but she too seemed to be looking at him with a new light. Harry smirked playfully at her.

'Congratulations for making the team, Potter. I'm looking forward to beating you on the pitch,' Malfoy finally remarked, his words laced with a competitive edge. Despite his outward bravado, there was a subtle undertone of acknowledgement in his voice, an acknowledgement of Harry's rising prowess. 

'We'll see about that.’ Harry easily accepted the challenge, already feeling the adrenaline that always seemed to appear whenever Draco Malfoy was involved ‘And thanks. For everything. I don't know what you did to Snape, but… Thank you,' Harry expressed his gratitude to Draco, a sense of warmth underlying his words. He couldn't help but feel a surge of appreciation toward the Slytherin, a newfound understanding blossoming between them.

'It's no big deal. I just knew a couple of things he wouldn't want anyone to know,' Draco replied casually, though there was a subtle shift in his demeanour. His usual air of superiority seemed to waver, replaced by a rare moment of vulnerability. Blaise and Pansy were gaping at him, but he was making a point of not looking at any of them.

'You got him out of detention?' Blaise inquired, incredulous. His gaze flickered between Harry and Draco, sensing the unspoken dynamics at play between them.

‘That’s why you wanted us to be here even though Potter had said he wouldn’t be able to attend!' Pansy interjected before Draco could answer, her expression one of shocked understanding.

'Of course I got him out of detention, you berks. That's what friends are for,' Draco responded, as his ears turned an adorable shade of pink and he crossed his arms across his chest. His voice was noticeably more defensive than usual as he still avoided eye contact with every one of them. Even so, Harry thought that he was being sincere and his chest was filled once more with pure happiness. 

'You've never got me out of detention!' Pansy added, a hint of jealousy colouring her tone. Her eyes darted between Draco and Harry, a mixture of longing and resentment swirling within her. 

'Have you ever been in detention?' Draco's retort was sharp, annoyance evident in his tone as he addressed Pansy's accusation. His gaze flickered between his two friends impatiently as he dismissed Pansy’s jealousy.

'No, but… Actually yes, remember fourth year!' She recalled, a touch of embarrassment creeping into her voice. She shifted uncomfortably under Draco's scrutiny, a flush staining her cheeks. 

'Pansy, dear, that one was on you. There was nothing I could do,' he said, a hint of exasperation evident in his tone. She huffed as Blaise nodded along. Harry desperately wanted to know what had happened in fourth year, it seemed like it had been a very interesting year. 

‘I’ve been in detention multiple times, though.’ Blaise's admission was accompanied by a furrowed brow, his expression thoughtful as he recounted his own experiences with detention. Draco's scoff was dismissive, though Harry could sense a hint of nervousness in his demeanour, a tension lingering beneath the surface. He wondered what had caused it.

‘Yeah, you said it yourself: Multiple times. I can’t always get you out, it would be obvious to everyone and then we’d be in trouble. So don’t get yourself so many detentions!’

Blaise frowned even more, if possible. 

‘My wand didn’t work properly last year, it’s not my fault it would start throwing hexes at random!’ He excused himself. Pansy, who seemed not to be so annoyed now that she had realised Blaise was the one Draco had helped the least and not her, couldn’t help but laugh.

‘'Random', but somehow they always hit Longbottom. Blue hair, frog hands, burned clothes…’ She recounted and Harry felt a pang of pity for Neville because he always got the worst of all ‘No wonder McGonagall thought it was suspicious, Blaise!’

‘It definitely didn’t have anything to do with the fact Longbottom had been partnered with Daphne in Herbology.’ Draco added, achieving his goal of deflecting the conversation to safer ground. Both he and Pansy laughed at Blaise's very blushed face, even as he continuously shook his head. Harry found himself laughing along, caught up in the camaraderie of the moment despite the lingering tension.

‘Anyways.’ Draco said when they stopped laughing, locking eyes with Harry. ‘We came here to tell you you’re invited to our common room this afternoon.’

‘Is that… allowed?’ Harry asked, unsure. The premise of getting to see another common room was intriguing, especially the Slytherin common room as he had heard it was underwater, but he hardly wanted to get another detention in his first week of school.

‘Who cares?’ Pansy said dismissively. She came so close to his ear that he shivered when she finally murmured ‘The password is Blood Quill. Don’t tell anyone and be there by five sharp.’

‘Ok… But why?’

‘It’s Saturday, Potter!’ She said, stepping back, as if she couldn’t believe he had forgotten ‘Remember, on Saturdays we have our weekly Gossip Reunions. You can’t forget the rules!’

‘Oh, right.’ Harry said as he remembered he still hadn’t read all the rules. There were too many and he wouldn’t even remember them all anyway. He noticed Draco was looking at him with clear amusement in his face and he wondered if they’d really send him to hell if he didn’t follow one of those stupid rules.

‘If you’re lucky, we might even turn it into a sleepover.’ Blaise added, with childlike enthusiasm ‘We could put Draco’s bed and mine together and sleep the three of us there.’

The idea did things to Harry he didn’t want to think about. He was reminded of Draco’s proposition, the comment he had made the day they had met about having a sleepover and how the fact that he had winked had made Harry feel.

‘But what about me?’ Pansy almost shrieked, and Harry decided at that moment that he found her sudden outbursts of jealousy quite annoying ‘You can’t exclude me like that!’

‘Well, then Potter can sleep with one of us and Pansy with the other. How does it sound, Potter?’ Draco said, locking eyes with Harry. His suggestion of sleeping arrangements brought a flush to Harry's cheeks. He felt nervous and he didn’t even know why. Having sleepovers was the kind of thing he had always imagined friends doing and he should be excited about being included in one. The thing was, he did feel excited but he was scared all the same.

‘We’ll see.’ He finally managed to look at something other than Draco’s platinum eyes ‘I’m going to take a shower, see you later.’ With a final nod, Harry excused himself from the conversation, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions as he made his way to the showers. 

‘I don’t know what to tell you, Harry. It seems suspicious.’ Hermione said an hour later, after he had come back to the Gryffindor Tower and told her about his not-detention with Snape and Malfoy’s implication in it. Ron nodded beside her.

The three of them were doing homework in the common room, in one of the most secluded areas of the room. Or well, Hermione was doing homework and Harry and Ron were more focused on talking, confident that she’d let them copy off her in the end.

‘Yeah… I still can’t understand why he did it.’ Ron agreed with a thoughtful expression as he rubbed his head with the back of his quill ‘You’re sure Snape said it had been Malfoy, right? Maybe he meant… Er, something else. Like he had told Malfoy to tell you you didn’t have detention for whatever reason and he didn’t. That sounds more like Malfoy.’ 

Harry sighed. He knew they would have this reaction.

‘It was Malfoy. He confirmed it.'

'Well, then he's finally gone nuts.' Ron concluded, his scepticism evident in his tone as he stretched his arms.

'Or he's using Harry.' Hermione suggested casually,  her words cutting through the air like a knife. Harry's jaw clenched in frustration at the implication.

'Or he's being nice to me.' 

Hermione's gaze bore into him with a mixture of pity and stubbornness, her unwavering conviction a stark reminder of her belief in her own judgment. It was one of those looks she sent his way every time he mentioned something Malfoy had done for him and Harry was already sick of them.

'Harry, we've been through this.’ She began, her voice soft but firm, her eyes locking with his in silent reproach. ‘Draco Malfoy is NOT nice. He's playing nice, alright. But he will want you to pay him back for what he's done.'

Harry took a slow, steadying breath, the weight of Hermione's words settling heavily on his shoulders as he grappled with the implications of her warning.

'Well, that's possible.’ He conceded, though the admission left a bitter taste in his mouth. ‘But maybe I do want to pay him back. I mean, it's thanks to him I'm Gryffindor seeker and if he did ask me something and I did it then I wouldn't owe him.' 

Ron nodded enthusiastically beside him and Harry felt a small wave of gratitude towards him for the first time that day.

'Harry may have a good point there, Hermione. Better to get it over with and not owe ferret-face anything.' 

'Ferret-face…?' Harry didn't understand why they'd call him such a thing. Malfoy was very handsome, after all, even if he was pointy. Even he could admit that. 

'First of all: You don't owe him anything.’ Hermione interjected, her voice gentle but firm as she reached out to grasp Harry's hand in reassurance. ‘If you're the new seeker it's because you're talented, not because of Malfoy. Second of all…’

'Which Ginny, the captain, wouldn't have known if I'd been in detention with Snape.' Harry interrupted her this time as he freed his hand. He was starting to lose his patience. 

'Well, then you should have talked to Ginny! She's been desperately looking for a capable seeker, she would have accepted meeting you personally at another time to see what you've got.' 

'I- Right, okay,’ Harry conceded, because he knew he should have done exactly that but he had ironically been too much of a coward to do it. That didn’t mean what Draco had done for him should go unnoticed, though, and so he told her, ‘But I didn't, so that takes us back to Malfoy helping me.' 

'You didn't let me finish before. Second of all: don't you think it's suspicious?’ She pressed on, her concern palpable as she sought to shake Harry from his stubborn resolve. ‘I mean, you've known each other for a week and he's already doing you huge favours? He wants something from you.'. 

Harry clenched his jaw yet again. He didn’t actually know it, that was the thing. Was it really that strange? Harry had no real experience to compare it to and maybe Malfoy was simply the kind of person who protected his friends at any cost and he had decided that Harry was his friend. After all, he didn’t have the foggiest idea of why Draco would be interested in being on his good side if he didn’t want to be friends, Harry didn’t exactly have much to offer him.

'That's a possibility, but we're doing the same thing, right? So?' 

Hermione's surprise was evident, plain to see in the subtle shift of her expression. 

'Oh, nothing, I guess. If you’re aware of what he's doing, then that's alright. It's just…' She trailed off, looking uncertain and suddenly tired 'I don't want you to buy even for one minute that he actually likes you or something like that. He's very good at acting nice, but eventually, he'll show his true colours and you'll be the one who ends up hurt.'

Harry felt unease in the pit of his stomach and suddenly spending the night with the Slytherins didn’t seem like such a great idea anymore. He knew he shouldn’t have told them anything, now they had ruined his good mood. He had been so happy thinking that Draco Malfoy was such a great friend… And maybe he actually was, but now Hermione and Ron were making him doubt. It was true that he had been excessively nice to Harry since the beginning. He couldn’t recall even one bad thing he had done to him and he’d seen him talking shit about, insulting and throwing hexes at most people in school by now. Even his close friends, Pansy and Blaise. 

'I'll keep that in mind, thanks.' He finally said, to please her. But in reality, he didn’t know what to think of the enigma that was Draco Malfoy. 

And with all of those doubts still fresh, Harry made his entrance in the Slytherin common room at five past five. As he stepped into unknown territory, he felt the weight of the Slytherins’ collective gaze settle upon him like a heavy cloak. Their stares, filled with curiosity and speculation, seemed to silently question his presence, but none dared to voice their inquiries. They had seen him in the company of the plastics on occasion, a fact that seemed to afford him a measure of cautious acceptance.

The common room itself exuded an aura of grandeur and intimidation. Low-backed black and dark green button-tufted leather sofas lined the space, offering both comfort and an air of opulence. Skulls adorned the shelves and dark wood cupboards, lending a sinister edge to the room's decor. Tapestries depicting the legendary exploits of Medieval Slytherins hung from the walls, adding to the ambience of prestige and legacy.

And the most astonishing part was the windows, through which Harry could see the Black Lake. The light that entered through them gave the place a greenish tone that had Harry mesmerised.

Despite the grandeur, there was an undeniable chill in the air, an undercurrent of tension that seemed to permeate every corner of the room, which Harry felt was a direct consequence of his presence there, being a Gryffindor. 

As he made his way further into the room, he spotted Draco, Pansy, and Blaise lounging on one of the most secluded sofas, deep in conversation. They looked up as he approached, and Harry couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious under their scrutinising gazes. But then Draco flashed him a charming smile and patted the seat next to him, inviting Harry to join them, and a wave of reassurance washed over him.

They teased him for being late, but Harry felt it was good-natured so he simply shrugged it off. For the rest of the afternoon, Harry was completely engrossed in their conversation. They talked about Quidditch, their favorite classes, and even shared some juicy gossip about other students. Harry couldn't believe how easy it was to talk to them, and he found himself laughing along with them once more like they had been friends for years when in reality they’d only known each other for a week. Hermione’s warning didn’t leave his mind, but he was having such a great time that he decided she must have been wrong.

As the conversation in the Slytherin common room grew more intimate, Draco made a decisive move, guiding the group toward the boys' room in search of greater privacy. Despite the presence of Crabbe and Goyle, Draco's mere glance was enough to dismiss them, their compliance a testament to the unspoken hierarchy within their circle. With the room now theirs alone, the plastics unveiled their most coveted possession—a secret 'burn book' steeped in enchantments designed to burn any who dared to pry without permission.

As Pansy handed Harry the thick tome, she spoke with a hint of pride 'This is exclusive information, Potter! We've spent years filling this book up,' she declared, her tone dripping with a mixture of mischief and anticipation. 'Now that you're part of our weekly Gossip Reunions, you can take a look. Come on!'

Harry hesitated for a moment before cracking open the book at random, acutely aware of the eyes fixed upon him, awaiting his reaction. His gaze fell upon a picture of Neville, captured in a moment of youthful innocence during a Herbology lesson. The sight of Neville's beaming face brought a fleeting smile to Harry's lips, but it quickly faded as he read the damning words scrawled beneath the image.

‘Neville Longbottom made out with a plant?’ He exclaimed, his horror palpable. The Slytherins erupted into laughter, revelling in their shared amusement at Neville's expense.

‘Yes and trust me, you don’t want to know which one.’ Draco assured him. Harry believed him.

The revelations only grew more scandalous as Harry turned the pages, each entry more shocking than the last.

‘Ginny Weasley likes being choked when she’s…?’ Harry gulped and felt his cheeks burning with embarrassment ‘I’m not reading that one out loud. How do you even know that?’

Pansy's response was nonchalant, her tone betraying a hint of amusement. 'Our friend Blaise here has some first-hand experience,' she explained, prompting a nod of affirmation from the aforementioned individual. 

'It was awesome,' Blaise added, his eyes alight with a mischievous glint as he reminisced.

‘Gross.’ Harry shuddered at the casualness with which they discussed such private matters, his discomfort growing with each passing revelation

‘She wouldn’t want her brother to know, so she’s easy to manipulate.’ Draco casually said. Harry felt ill, that was why she had let them stay in the stands. He flipped the page and continued reading.

‘Zacharias Smith lost his virginity to Irma Pince? Isn’t she the librarian?!’ Harry was completely horrified now. He couldn’t imagine that stern, firm woman having sex with anyone, much less a student. That woman was way too old and he was still a minor!

‘Yeah. Quite scandalous, wouldn’t you say?’ Draco said, with a smile on his face. He was enjoying it, Harry realised. They all were.

Harry read the next page, in which the face of a Hufflepuff boy he couldn’t recognise appeared. His heart sank at the derogatory term used to refer to him.

‘Justin Finch-Fletchley: Pillow Biter.’ He read out loud, toneless.

There was silence for a bit, but then Pansy and Blaise both bursted out laughing. Draco remained silent, looking at his nails as if he couldn’t be bothered to look at that poor boy’s picture. Harry felt sick, because that was it, there was nothing else written. The only bad thing that Justin had done was being gay and now the plastics were laughing at him for it, putting it next to someone who had fucked a much older librarian.

‘I’d forgotten about him! He asked Draco to be his date in the Yule Ball, back in fourth year! It was pathetic of him.’ Pansy explained, incapable of stopping laughing.

‘He wanted to fuck Draco! It was quite funny, I don’t know what gave him the idea you’d be interested.’ Blaise shot a strange look Draco’s way even as he continued chuckling, which triggered said blonde.

‘He obviously had brain damage, apart from being a poofter. Like I’d even consider talking to such scum!’ Draco said nastily. He didn’t look at Harry as he said it, he appeared to be lost in thought. His callous dismissal of Justin's affections only served to deepen Harry's disillusionment, his inner turmoil mirrored by the tumultuous emotions churning within.

‘Why are you so pale, Potter?’ Pansy asked him, and then, because she had apparently misjudged why he appeared to be so uncomfortable, she assured him ‘Don’t worry, he won’t go after you. He transferred schools to Beauxbatons after that.’

That was way worse, Harry thought, as he imagined how humiliated that poor boy must have been to have taken such a decision, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t know why, but he hadn’t expected them to be homophobic. Maybe he was simply hoping they weren’t, because now that he thought about it, it didn’t really clash with any of the horrible things they’d said about their peers. It wasn’t a pleasant discovery, though, because his godfather was gay and Harry was very protective of him. He couldn’t understand why someone could care about other people’s preferences if it didn’t directly affect them. 

He suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Now he truly realised what Hermione and Ron meant. That book, everything that was written inside, was the materialisation of everything that was wrong with the plastics. It was a sign of power over those who were mentioned in the book. It was mean, the meanest thing they’d ever done. At least, that Harry knew of.

To think about something else, he decided to continue reading. He wanted to know what they’d written, he realised, but not because he wanted to know what those people had done, but because he wanted to know what the plastics had to say about them. There were more dirty secrets that Harry was sure the people involved would kill to keep secret, but there were also pages in which there were nothing more than insults. 

His heart sank as he flipped a page and saw a picture of his friends Hermione and Ron in the book. Hermione was labelled as a 'creepy, obsessed mudblood' (which didn’t sit right with Harry, who thought about his mother, just like the homophobic slur) and it also said she couldn’t keep her mouth shut even if she bored everyone. Her teeth were drawn over to make her look even more like a rabbit. Ron, with the words 'Weasley is our king and he was raised in a bin' written next to his picture, was also drawn over so he looked like a beggar. The Slytherins laughed and made snide comments about the two, saying they were the perfect pair. 

‘When do you reckon they’ll get married and have twenty poor, ugly, ginger babies?’ Pansy asked.

‘Granger’s not making the first move again and Weasley probably has no idea she likes him, he’s that daft, so maybe never.’ Draco declared.

‘That’s because he has the observational skills of a flobberworm in the dark.’ Harry said, matter-of-factly. He’d known Ron for less than a week and even he had noticed there was something going on between Ron and Hermione, but his friend seemed not to have noticed.

‘Ha, that’s funny.’ Draco said approvingly  ‘And totally true. Write it down too, Pansy.’

Harry realised too late that that comment was probably only right when Hermione said it, but he couldn’t take it back now. So he watched with guilt as Pansy wrote it down next to Ron’s picture.

After some time, they left the unfinished book hidden again and went back to safe topics with which Harry relaxed once again. He hadn’t forgotten his sudden realisation that the plastics really were mean, especially their comments about homophobia and blood-purity because they’d deeply upset Harry and made him feel uncomfortable, but he also knew that he enjoyed talking about trivial things with them. Besides, he still felt grateful for what Draco Malfoy had done with Snape and none of them had been mean to Harry so far, so he reckoned he could spend some more time with them. He wouldn’t stay for a sleepover, though, he had too many things to think about.

But as the dinner time came, Harry realised none of them had any intention of moving. He didn’t want to be the one to suggest going to the Great Hall, because they might have a particular hour in which they went and then it would be awkward to suggest it. But when his stomach made a very embarrassing sound, he couldn’t wait more and he asked them whether they were planning on skipping dinner. It was Draco who informed him that before Harry’d arrived, he had told a group of second years to have the elves bring dinner to them. 'The elves work here for a reason, Potter,' Draco sneered. 'I'm not wasting time going to the Great Hall when we're having so much fun here.'

Harry nodded, although he hadn’t even known elves worked in Hogwarts. He simply thought that the food appeared out of thin air- He stayed for dinner, but after that he decided it was time to leave.

Blaise suggested having a sleepover once again, but Harry politely declined the offer. He excused himself saying he was exhausted and he got up, ready to go back to the comfort of the Gryffindor Tower.

But then Draco Malfoy did something totally unexpected.

‘You all stay here. I’ll walk you to the exit, Potter.’ He declared, his tone carrying a hint of insistence that raised eyebrows among the gathered company. Pansy and Blaise exchanged puzzled glances, silently questioning Draco's motives.

‘Oh, it’s not necessary.’ Harry replied, a nervous edge to his voice. He couldn't shake the unease that lingered in his mind regarding Draco Malfoy, especially after reading the book, even after everything he’d done for him ‘I won’t get lost, don’t worry.’ 

But Draco was adamant. Ignoring Harry's protest, he gently grasped his sleeve and guided him through the familiar pathways of the common room. His steps didn't falter as he led Harry past the entrance, out into the dimly lit corridor beyond, where shadows danced in the flickering torchlight.

Once they were enveloped in solitude, Draco broke the silence. 'Did you have fun?' he inquired, his voice softer now, stripped of its usual arrogance.

Harry considered the question. He had felt uncomfortable at times, and he still didn’t know what his opinion was on the plastics, but he could confidently say that he had had a good time until the burn book had been revealed and even after.

‘Honestly? Yeah, I did. Er… Mostly. You guys are fun to be around.’ H arry admitted, his guard lowering slightly in the absence of prying eyes.

‘I know, right? I’m glad you had a great time.’ Draco was genuinely smiling at him, so close that Harry’s breath was taken. He didn’t move away, though, not even when Draco started looking for something in his robes. Something that could have been his wand to hex Harry for invading his personal space, after he accused him of being gay too. After the episode with Justin and the book, Harry didn’t know what to expect anymore.

But he didn’t take his wand, but a small rectangular object that he offered Harry ‘I actually have something for you.’ 

'A little cube?' Harry examined the object in his palm, puzzled. 'Which is a box?' he ventured, trying to decipher its purpose.

‘It is a box, full of gifts. It’s shrunk.’ Draco explained ‘I know I told you we would go shopping, but you can’t repeat the pink glasses look next Wednesday – Pansy would have a stroke and would invite you to consider never talking to us ever again, it wouldn’t give us a great image, you see? Anyways, the first Hogsmeade weekend will be in two weeks, so…’ 

'You’re giving me… what? Accessories?' Harry interrupted, taken aback by Draco's unexpected gesture of kindness.

'Yes. They used to be mine, but I have thousands. You can keep those,' Draco confirmed, his eyes meeting Harry's with a sincerity that belied his usual aloof exterior.  

'Thanks. Are you sure, though? I don’t think I’ll ever use most of this stuff…' Harry hesitated, his gratitude mingled with uncertainty as he considered Draco's offering. He had never liked accessories, after all, there was a reason why he didn’t have any.

'Consider it a gift. You can’t reject gifts, Potter. Honestly, who raised you?' Draco teased, his tone light but firm, masking his underlying sincerity.

'Fuck you. I do have good manners, and I know you shouldn’t accept a gift if you think it’s too much,' Harry retorted, a playful edge to his words. He froze then, as he remembered who he was talking to. He probably shouldn’t talk to Draco Malfoy, the king of making anyone’s life a living hell, that way. Not if he wanted to continue being friends.

But to his surprise, Draco actually snorted at being told to fuck himself. Harry smiled. He felt more confident then.

'Oh, but it isn’t.’ Draco assured him ‘Trust me, it’s not that big of a deal. You should use them, though. I know some of these accessories would look splendid on you. And there are a lot of types, so you can choose. You’ve got rings, bracelets, collars, diadems…' 

'I’m not wearing a fucking diadem,' Harry protested, more confidently this time. His lips were quirking into a wry smile at the absurdity of the suggestion.

'Oh, but why? It would look so good on you, adorable princess Potter,' Draco teased, his smirk widening at Harry's reaction. 

Harry frowned at being called an adorable princess, until one particularly funny thought crossed his mind.

‘Wait, it’s yours. Did you wear a diadem?’  

Draco immediately reddened and Harry couldn’t help but snort, even before he said anything.

'Once.’ He confirmed hurriedly ‘I felt especially posh that day and I quite enjoyed the attention, but… There’s a reason why it’s in there and not in my wardrobe. Never again,' Draco confessed, his cheeks burning with embarrassment as he relived the mortifying memory.

Harry burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the corridor as he found himself unable to contain his amusement at the mental image of Draco sporting a diadem.

'I was fourteen, fuck off,' Draco retorted, his cheeks still flushed with embarrassment as he attempted to defend his past fashion faux pas. For Harry, now it made sense why Justin Finch-Fletchley had thought Draco Malfoy might be into boys. Because honestly, what kind of boy that age wore diadems?

'I wish I had been there. Your fourth year sounds pretty interesting,' Harry remarked, his amusement evident in the sparkle of his eyes as he struggled to stifle another bout of laughter.

‘Oh, no. I was a prick back then. I’m glad we hadn’t met yet.’ 

If Draco Malfoy considered he had been a prick in the past, that must mean he had been even more cruel than now. Thus, Hermione and Ron probably had a reason why they personally despised him so much.

‘If you say so… Okay, I’ll take a look. Thank you.’ Harry conceded, his appreciation for Draco's gesture shining through despite his lingering doubts.

'No problem. I knew you wouldn’t have found a solution yet and since I’m such a benevolent person, I decided to help,' Draco replied, a self-satisfied grin tugging at his lips.

'If I’m honest, I didn’t even remember I had to find something else pink to wear,' Harry confessed, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

'I’m not even surprised. You’re a curious one, Potter,' Draco remarked, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he regarded his newfound companion.

'Curious how?' Harry inquired, his curiosity piqued by Draco's enigmatic words.

'I don’t know. Different, you intrigue me,' Draco replied, his gaze piercing and intense. Harry felt a magnetic pull towards Draco, despite the cautionary alarms ringing in his mind. He was once more conscious of their closeness, but he didn’t make a move to distance himself. 

'Thanks, I guess. You intrigue me too,' Harry admitted, his voice soft as he found himself drawn into the depths of Draco's gaze. They lingered in silence, locked in a wordless exchange that spoke volumes.

'I think I should go before Filch finds me here,' Harry finally broke the silence, his rationality asserting itself over the magnetic pull of Draco's presence.

'Oh, right. Yeah, you should go,' Draco replied, his demeanour shifting as if awakening from a trance. He glanced around nervously, and took a step back, as if suddenly aware of the potential consequences of their private moment.

'But if you do encounter Filch, tell him you were with me. He’ll let you go,' He offered, his voice tinged with a hint of urgency. Harry’s chest was filled with warmth once more and he felt a sudden urge to ask what had been bothering him for the whole day: was Draco only this nice to Harry or did he do other similar nice things to Pansy and Blaise?

'Is this something you’ve ever told Pansy to do or will she get jealous again if she finds out?' Harry finally teased, trying to break the sudden tension that had built around them. He had a tentative smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Draco snorted in amusement and rolled his eyes. And just like that, the tension was gone and they were back to teasing each other.

'She’s insecure like that. Don’t tell her about the accessories either. She’ll get real mad, she wanted that diadem,' Draco cautioned, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes.

'My mouth is shut,' Harry assured him, a playful glint in his eyes even as he made the gesture of zipping his mouth with his fingers. Draco may have looked at his lips for a second more than necessary, but Harry wasn’t sure.

'Good. Well, bye,' He simply said and he went back to his common room, leaving Harry alone in the dark corridor of the dungeons.

As he made his way back, most of his doubts regarding the burn book forgotten for the moment, Harry couldn't help but wonder why Draco was being so nice to him. Inviting him to their group was one thing and getting him out of detention so he could play Quidditch too, but had he really just gifted him a full box of expensive accessories just because? And a way of not getting detention should he cross Filch? He obviously didn’t do that with Pansy and Blaise or he wouldn’t have told Harry to keep it a secret.

His last thought before he went to sleep that night was that Ron and Hermione were probably right; Draco Malfoy was up to something. Only, Harry didn’t have the foggiest idea what he was up to. He obviously wasn’t going to complain if his plan was to treat Harry like his new best friend.