---

***

July 31, 1991

Draco Malfoy stood at the back of Madam Malkin’s shop on a footstool, admiring his new black robes. He casually observed as Madam Malkin’s younger assistant pinned them up from the bottom where they appeared to be a tad too long for his short form. He frowned, realizing that he’d be among the shorter students at Hogwarts, never mind that he was only eleven years old and had yet to start adolescence or experience a growth spurt. Draco couldn’t wait to grow tall like his father. Lost in his musings, Draco barely registered the ringing of the bell at the front of the shop indicating the entrance of another customer, and he straightened up just a tad more because Malfoys didn’t slouch but instead commandeered a room to do their will. Or at least, that’s what his father was always proclaiming, and Draco had observed the way his father just seemed to billow into rooms, and sneered at those lower than him. He curiously eyed the black-haired boy who was put in the stool next to his looking quite out of place. As he looked him up and down, Draco considered extending his friendship to the young boy in question. Even though he knew most, if not all, of the purebloods, Draco figured it wouldn’t hurt to begin making new alliances and acquaintances before going to Hogwarts.

“Hello. Hogwarts, too?� he casually asked the other boy.

“Yes.�

“My father’s next door buying my books and mother’s up the street looking at wands,� Draco replied to the one word answer already bored of the boy. However, he couldn’t help himself and continued in a drawling voice, “Then I’m going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don’t see why first years can’t have their own. I think I’ll bully father into getting me one, and I’ll smuggle it in somehow.�

Draco stared imperiously as the boy gave him a weird look but didn’t reply.

“Have you got your own broom?� he questioned.

“No.�

“Play Quidditch at all?� he asked, growing irritated with the continuously curt replies.

“No.�

“I do – Father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my house, and I must say I agree. Know what house you’ll be in yet?� Draco snidely remarked wondering why he was even compelled to talk to this boy.

“No.�

“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been – imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?� he scoffed mockingly.

“Mmm,� the other boy replied noncommittally.

Draco decided the boy wasn’t worth his time and decided to focus on his robes to make sure the assistant hemmed it correctly. However, a bulky shadow in the window distracted him, and Draco saw the most grotesque man he’d ever seen in his life. He was holding two ice cream cones while grinning like a maniac.

“I say, look at that man!� he pointed out.

“That’s Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts,� the other boy finally replied much more enthusiastically. This pleased Draco for reasons unbeknownst to him, but he added to the conversation.

“Oh. I’ve heard of him. He’s a sort of servant, isn’t he?�

“He’s the gamekeeper.�

“Yes, exactly. I heard he’s a sort of savage - lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed,� Draco replied, quite proud of himself for the information he held.

“I think he’s brilliant,� the other boy replied coldly, his voice tinged with contempt. Draco was minutely disgusted with this boy’s behavior and wondered what sort of parents taught their children to reply in curt one-word answers and idolize half-giant oafs.

“Do you? Why is he with you? Where are your parents?� he sneered, voice full of derision.

“They’re dead,� the boy replied flatly.

“Oh, sorry. But they were our kind, weren’t they?� Draco continued trying to dig into the mysterious boy’s association with wizard folk.

“They were a witch and wizard, if that’s what you mean.�

Draco pondered his answer finding it barely satisfactory.

“I really don’t think they should let the other sort in, do you? They’re just not the same, they’ve never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What’s your surname, anyway?� he asked on the sly. However, before the other boy replied, Madam Malkin announced she was done with the boy. Rather quickly, the boy jumped off his stool and began walking away without a second glace.

“Well, I’ll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose,� Draco drawled out, trying to have the final say in the non-existent conversation. He stared at the boy’s retreating back wondering why he had never seen him before in some birthday party or Ministry event. He knew that not all wizard folk were rich like him, but the wizarding world was not that expansive. Unless, of course, the boy was a Mudblood. Draco scoffed in disgust with the knowledge that perhaps he had freely associated with such vile scum. He made a mental note not to befriend him at Hogwarts, even if they both ended up in Slytherin.

***

September 1, 1991

Draco stalked the corridors of the Hogwarts Express with Crabbe and Goyle close behind him. He had heard the most peculiar rumor that Harry Potter was not only on the train, but he was a first year too! He sneered in contempt at the thought that the Boy Who Lived and whose stories he had grown up hearing was actually nearby without his knowledge. Malfoys always made alliances with the most powerful people, and if this boy had defeated the Dark Lord as a child, he most certainly fit Draco’s criteria for important people to befriend.

With the help of Pansy, who had always been rather good at gossiping, he had found the exact whereabouts of the famous Harry Potter. He stopped in front of the compartment that Pansy had pointed out to him, and stopped for a second to check himself. It wouldn’t do not to make a good impression on a potential ally. He indicated to Crabbe to open the compartment, and as it slid open, Draco’s eyes quickly perused the two occupants inside. A red-headed boy he’d once heard his father refer to as a Weasley sat there slightly bewildered, and the black-haired boy from the shop at Madam Malkin’s who seemed if only a bit rude and standoffish. Draco couldn’t believe his luck. That boy was the Boy Who Lived. He felt slightly smug and put down at the same time. He had been obviously amongst the first to meet Harry Potter but that only meant he had already made a first impression on him. And if Draco was honest to himself, it hadn’t been one of his best. Needless to say, the compartment door was open and it would not do to just run away now.

“Is it true? They’re saying all down the train that Harry Potter’s in this compartment. So it’s you, is it?� he asked.

“Yes,� Potter replied, looking at Crabbe and Goyle.

“Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle. And my name’s Malfoy, Draco Malfoy,� he mentioned casually before he heard Weasley snicker.

“Think my name’s funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford,� he angrily sneered towards the redhead. The boy looked angry and his face began to match the color of his hair. Satisfied, Draco turned to the black-haired boy while holding out his hand to shake.

“You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.�

To Draco’s bewilderment, Potter only looked at his hand but didn’t take it.

“I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks.�

Draco Malfoy was mortified to be publicly and openly rejected by none other than Harry Potter. It was only the fact that he was raised with the superior coolness of a Malfoy that he managed not to go red, but he couldn’t help the burning feeling in his cheeks.

“I’d be careful if I were you, Potter,� he replied in retaliation making the first of many vague threats in his life. “Unless you’re a bit politer you’ll go the same way as your parents. They didn’t know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it’ll rub off on you.�

“Say that again,� Weasley said as he and Potter stood, obviously preparing for a physical fight of sorts.

“Oh, you’re going to fight us, are you?� he sneered.

“Unless you get out now,� Potter replied with false bravado.

“But we don’t feel like leaving, do we, boys? We’ve eaten all our food and you still seem to have some,� he replied in that bored drawling tone he’d adopted from his father, but adding a bit of a mocking undertone to it. Draco was a bit shocked at just how nastily the situation quickly progressed but he wasn’t about to back out now. He watched as Goyle reached for the Chocolate Frogs next to the Weasel, when suddenly a giant rat jumped out of nowhere and attacked him. Between Goyle yelling out in pain and the commotion that ensued as he swung the rat round the compartment, Draco decided it was time to make a hasty retreat.

It wouldn’t do to get caught fighting before they even reached the school. As he half-ran back to his compartment, Draco ran into another first year with frizzy brown hair.

“Oi! Watch where you’re going!� he exclaimed.

“Sorry! But we’re almost at Hogwarts. You should go get changed too!� the girl replied. He narrowed his eyes at her.

“And how would you know that we’re almost there?�

“I asked the conductor.�

Draco rolled his eyes before pushing her out of his way to go change into his new robes. As soon as he reached his compartment, he noticed that Pansy and Blaise Zabini had already changed into their robes.

“Where have you been, Draco?� Pansy whined. “It’s already getting dark and the train is slowing down. You need to get changed.�

“You’re not my mother, Pansy.�

Just as he was pulling on his robes, he heard the muffled voice of the conductor announce the Hogsmeade Station in less than five minutes.

“Come on,� Draco announced to his entourage, “Let’s go stand near the doors, I do not want to be the last to get off the train, and I don’t fancy getting trampled on either.�

“Merlin, you’re so annoying, Malfoy,� Zabini huffed.

***

When they got off the train, the man from Madam Malkin’s shop began bellowing to them. He told them to follow him down a steep, narrow path on which everyone slipped and stumbled at one point or another. Draco sneered in contempt at this nature trip and made a note to tell his father. He had tripped at least twice because it was so dark that it was impossible to find where your next step would fall. As they turned a bend, Draco along with the rest of the first years let out a collective, “Oooooh!� Even though Draco was a pureblood, he had never seen Hogwarts, and the description his father had given him didn’t do it justice. They were standing on the edge of a black lake and on the other side of it, perched atop a mountain, was a castle with many windows, turrets, and towers. This would be his home for the next seven years, and Draco couldn’t help but smile to himself – he was pleased that his mother had won the argument of Hogwarts versus Durmstrang.

However, his elation banished when the gigantic man announced that they’d be crossing over the black lake in tiny boats. What if he fell in into the black lake? It was so dark out there that he might drown and they’d never find his body. Draco shuddered at the thought and quickly made his way to the boat with Zabini, Daphne Greengrass, and Pansy. He didn’t trust Crabbe and Goyle not to sink the tiny boat or tip it over. At the oaf’s indication, the boats began gliding silently across the glass like lake. Draco wasn’t sure why they had to reach Hogwarts in this fashion, but he reckoned it had to do with casting a first strong impression upon their young minds. He decided to just enjoy the view of the towering castle.

As soon as they made it through an underground tunnel and got off the boats, they walked up to a giant oak door where the half-giant knocked three times. When the door opened, he announced them to Professor McGonagall, a stern-looking witch who Draco decided to never try to cross. She guided them to a small, empty chamber and gave them a short speech about the Sorting Ceremony. She even went so far as to state that each house in Hogwarts had a noble history. Draco smirked smugly, knowing that the only truly noble house was Slytherin, where his ancestors had been Sorted and where he would inevitably end up. There had never been a Malfoy who wasn’t sorted into Slytherin. He was so sure he’d be a Slytherin that he felt cheeky enough to suggest he just be allowed in.

As she turned to leave she made a comment about fixing their appearances before been called into the Great Hall then biding them to wait quietly. Draco snidely looked around as Potter tried to flatten his hair and the Weasel began talking about some asinine test that you took to get Sorted. He knew it wasn’t true but he couldn’t help looking anxious like the rest of his peers. Pansy was standing rather close to him, but he held his aloof behavior not wanting to appear scared in front of Potter or anyone else. He made sure to brush off any imaginary lint off his robes.

While waiting, a horde of ghosts just floated right through the walls, arguing heatedly back and forth, and not paying much attention to them. Suddenly, one of them noticed them. their group. “I say, what are you doing here?�

Nobody in the group answered, too astounded to reply.

A ghostly monk replied for them though, “New students! About to be Sorted, I suppose? Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house you know.� Draco stared at him incredulously. Who was he joking? Hufflepuff?

Out of nowhere, Professor McGonagall came back, barking orders about getting in a line because the Sorting Ceremony was going to begin. Draco was amazed at the Great Hall. There were thousands of floating candles over four long tables draped in the respective colors of their houses. He spared a glance at the green and silver, recognizing several faces amongst the older students seated there. The older witch moved them to the front of the teachers’ table where they faced the rest of the Hogwarts population. In front of them, on a wooden stool, stood an old battered Hat. Draco looked around, briefly wondering what was going to happen now, when suddenly the Hat began singing. After it finished, everyone clapped and Professor McGonagall stepped up holding a long roll of parchment. She began calling out names in alphabetical order. Draco watched as the first years began to get Sorted.

Draco watched on in annoyance as the Hat called out several Hufflepuffs. Then he huffed with irritation as the frizzy- haired girl on the train practically ran up to the Hat to be Sorted. He looked on as a stout kid named Longbottom ran off with the Hat and had to return it. Draco was quickly growing bored watching everyone else get sorted. In fact, he was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he almost didn’t hear his name when he was called to the front of the Great Hall. However, he caught it in time, and bounded forward with a slight swagger in his step knowing exactly where he was going: Slytherin. However, he wasn’t expecting the old Hat to actually question it!

“Hmm…a Malfoy. I haven’t had one of you in many years,� the Hat spoke inside his head.

“Just put me in Slytherin already!�

“Slytherin? What makes you think you’re cut out for Slytherin, my boy?�

Draco was beyond himself with disbelief. “My entirely family is made up of Slytherins! I belong there! It’s my birthright!�

The Hat just chuckled before replying, “Ah yes, I can see that you definitely have the cunning to be in Slytherin, but you also have mighty brain power. You’d do very well in Ravenclaw.�

“Spare me,� thought Draco.

“Not Ravenclaw? Well, Gryffindor is out of the question, not enough courage for that house.�

“I’m brave!� Draco huffed.

“Hmm…Yes, you are. I never said you weren’t; just not brave enough. Ah, I can see you’re hardworking, and loyal. And you have a deep sense of right and wrong. Well, I think this will be a first but, you’d do well in HUFFLEPUFF!�

Draco sat immobilized on his seat. He blinked, hoping he had heard wrong and imagined this horrible nightmare. His breathing seemed to have stopped completely, and all he could do was stare, slack-jawed at the students who stared back blankly, just as astounded by the news. In the distance, he thought he heard a clap or two, and he ardently wished it were coming from the house of his forefathers instead of the few brave souls amongst the badgers.

“WHAT?� he screamed in outrage. The clapping stopped. “Hufflepuff? Are you bloody insane? I demand to be re-Sorted!�

“Mr. Malfoy!� Professor McGonagall replied sharply. “You’ve been sorted into Hufflepuff, now please proceed to your table and housemates.� Everyone stared as Draco’s cheeks turned bright red in anger. He cast a quick glance at his godfather, Severus Snape, up in the High Table, and noticed that his lips were set firmly into a thin line. Obviously, he wasn’t going to come to his rescue.

“But! I’m supposed to be in Slytherin!� he cried out angrily not caring how un-Malfoy-like he sounded.

“I say, Mr. Malfoy, that’s enough!� the strict witch replied coldly. She scowled at him before pointing to his new house and seemed to silently communicate a slow and torturous death if he dared to defy her again. Draco glared at her before stomping over to the table draped hideously in yellow and black. He receiving a couple of claps from his housemates, out of house unity if anything, but it didn’t escape Draco the scowls he received from most of them.

He stared vaguely into the golden plate in front of him, fuming in anger at the Sorting Hat, and at himself. He felt the telltale pinpricks of tears in his eyes, and he sniffed quietly to himself while surreptitiously wiping any moisture away. He had already humiliated his family name enough with his childish tantrum; he didn’t need to add to it by crying. Perhaps, if he had begged for ‘not Hufflepuff,’ he would have been Sorted into a different house. Sighing in defeat, Draco acknowledged that he was more embarrassed than disappointed to be Sorted into a house other than Slytherin. He had spent all summer talking down Hufflepuff only to find himself amongst its ranks weeks later. He couldn’t believe it.

Draco looked over at the Slytherin house and noticed his childhood friends staring at him with contempt. He scowled back at them before the anger he thought had been mollified flared up again. Mentally, he was putting together a letter to send to his father about the nerve the Hat had. So lost in his thoughts was he, Draco stopped paying attention to the Sorting. He only looked up when he heard the obnoxious Gryffindors cheer so loud it made your ears bleed because they got Potter. He scowled and muttered to himself, “This is all Potter’s fault! It’s not fair!�

“What’s not fair?� a blonde girl with pigtails sitting next to him asked.

“Nothing,� he murmured, turning a cold shoulder to her. She looked slightly affronted, but shrugged it off quickly, turning to one of the other first year Hufflepuffs.

By the time the food appeared in front of their plates, Draco realized he was a tad hungry, but found that he couldn’t really enjoy his dinner. The bitterness and embarrassment of being Sorted into Hufflepuff was too fresh. Instead, he opted for sipping pumpkin juice, and poking at his dinner while observing his housemates. He watched as the older students quickly warmed up to the first years, handing out advice and words of wisdom. It was much more different, he reckoned than how a Slytherin would have behaved. Overall, the Hufflepuffs weren’t all that bad if a bit too cheerful. He overheard an older Hufflepuff named Cedric Diggory saying something about squashing Slytherin this year. Apparently, they had won the cup six years in a row now. Draco couldn’t help but feel proud about it but the feeling quickly diminished once he realized he wasn’t part of that house. As dessert began to appear, Draco scowled at the choices, wondering where the bread and butter pudding was located.

“Oi! Malfoy! You should stop scowling,� a boy sitting next to him said while stuffing his face with chocolate éclairs.

“Says who?� he spat, grabbing a bowl of chocolate ice cream and taking a huge spoonful into his mouth. He instantly felt his mind go numb with the chill of the ice cream.

“Don’t you know Muggles think that your face can get stuck in one position forever if someone hits you in the back while making that face?� the boy replied.
“That’s absurd! I’ve never heard of such a thing happening!�

“Of course, you wouldn’t. It’s a Muggle belief! But why don’t we try it? Go ahead and scowl at me and then I’ll hit you in the back!� the other boy taunted, raising his arm.

Draco scowled at him before pushing the boy’s arm away, “I think not.�
The other boy began laughing jovially before introducing himself as Ernie Macmillan. He spent the rest of the feast listening to Macmillan talk about all the other Hufflepuffs in their table. He learned the girl with the pigtails was Hannah Abbott, a half-blood. Cedric Diggory was a third year pureblood just like Macmillan. The boy sitting across from Draco was Justin Finch-Fletchley, a wealthy Muggleborn. Draco couldn’t help but wonder at the hodge-podge of students that Hufflepuff housed; it sure seemed unique.

When they were finally dismissed, the Hufflepuff prefects led them back to the main entrance and to a door to the right of the main staircase. They walked down to the dungeon level and a painting of a still life popped open when it was given the password: badgers burrow together. Inside, Draco noticed the tunnel-like common room and dormitory. It figured that the Hufflepuffs would embrace their inner badger. He thought he was going to vomit all over his new black robes.

***

September 2, 1991

Draco sighed in disbelief. He was hoping that last night had been an ice cream-induced nightmare, but to his horror he woke up in the burrow like dormitory of the first year Hufflepuff boys. Ernie Macmillan was getting dressed on the bed next to him, and Finch-Fletchley had already left for breakfast at the Great Hall. He had written a letter to his father late last night amid Macmillan’s attempts at befriending him, and Wayne Hopkins telling tall tales to the other three boys. He had been dismally disappointed to receive a letter back early this morning:

Draco,
It is an embarrassment that you’d be the first Malfoy sorted into Hufflepuff. However, make the best of it until I can speak to the Headmaster.

He felt like he had been abandoned on all fronts. He burrowed back inside the covers of his bed wishing it were all a nightmare from which he’d wake up soon. However, his wishful thinking was soon cut short.

“Draco! Wake up! We’re going to be late for class!� bellowed Macmillan as he threw a pillow at his head.

Draco glowered at Macmillan from his place in bed. “Don’t call me Draco! We’re not friends.�

Macmillan laughed. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, Draco, but you don’t have that many to choose from, what with your display last night!� Then he turned around, grabbed his book bag, and walked out. Sighing, Draco decided it was going to be a long year.


***

September 9, 1991

Draco stared mutely at the roaring fire in the common room. He was supposed to be working on homework for Potions class but he couldn’t be bothered to do it. Instead, he sat there reflecting on the horrible first week he had. It seemed that everyone had forgotten by Wednesday that he was a Malfoy in Hufflepuff because of Harry Potter and his fame. Wherever the Gryffindor went, everyone whispered and pointed in awe; Draco scowled and glared at him. It made Draco sick to his stomach the way people fawned over the four-eyed git. Another thing that irritated Draco was that most of his classes were with Ravenclaws. Their eagerness to please their professors was sickening, to say the least. Yet, he reckoned that if Hufflepuffs were paired with Slytherins they’d be eaten alive. And Draco couldn’t imagine having so many classes with the Gryffindors; As far as he was concerned, the entire lot of goody-two shoes annoyed him. It seemed almost a saving grace that he only had Charms with them. Though, Draco had heard that his godfather had embarrassed the Gryffindors the first day of class in Potions, even deducting points from Potter. It caused him immense pleasure, yet disappointment that he wasn’t able to witness it.

The only bright thing about this week, Draco reasoned, was that flying lessons started Thursday with the Ravenclaws. At least that was something in which he could excel.

***

October 31, 1991

“Wingardium Leviosa!�

“WinGARdi-UM LeVIOssahhh�

“Wingardium LeVIOSA!�

Draco stared at the pathetic attempts of his classmates as they tried to make objects fly around the room. Potter and his sidekick were failing in every attempt. He had already made his feather float, fly, and zoom about and was therefore excused for the rest of the period. Instead of running off to the library though, he stayed next to Macmillan. Two weeks ago, Crabbe and Goyle beat him up when they caught him wandering the hall alone. He knew it was because he was a Hufflepuff and nothing more. They had grown up together, and the attack had taken him quite by surprise. His father had warned him that the pureblood Slytherins would retaliate and think he was a traitor. He just hadn’t taken it seriously, and ended up in the hospital wing. When he returned to the common room with a black eye and split lip, Cedric Diggory and Edward Johnson had wanted names. He had refused to give out the names of his two former friends. The older boys had just nodded in agreement but warned him that next time it happened, they wouldn’t take his indifferent silence. Only Zacharias Smith had sneered at Draco and laughed while saying, “You got what you deserved, Malfoy.�

Ever since that day Draco had made an attempt to never be caught alone again. While he waited for everyone else, he chose to re-read his father’s letter:

Draco,

I’m sure the Headmaster has spoken to you by now. Nothing can be done to re-Sort you into a different house. Not even my position in the Board of Governors can change this. Take this as an opportunity to remember that Malfoys make the best of the situations they’re thrust into. Do refrain from getting into more fights with your fellow Slytherins.

Draco didn’t know what annoyed him more: the insinuation that he had started a fight with Crabbe and Goyle, or that his father knew it was Slytherins that beat him up. He hadn’t even told the Headmaster or Madam Pomfrey when they demanded to know who should be punished. Draco scowled at the parchment and stuffed it back into his book bag.

“It’s Win-gar-dium Levi-osa, make the ‘gar’ nice and long,� he overhead the frizzy- haired girl who he knew was a Muggleborn instruct the freckled-faced prat. Draco glared at the witch, wondering how it was possible that she was much more talented than a pureblood. Suddenly, deep green eyes were staring right at him, and Draco blinked only once before he realized they were Potter's. They sat silently willing the other to look away first in a battle of wills for almost two minutes before they were interrupted by outside forces.

“Draco! Could you help me here, mate?� Macmillan said, elbowing him in the stomach. Draco scowled at him, breaking eye contact with Potter. “I’m not your mate, Macmillan.�

“But you will be! I’ve seen the way the Slytherins treat you.�

“That, Ernie,� he muttered with dripping sarcasm, “is absolutely none of your business.�

Macmillan suddenly smirked at him and murmured, “Oh, Malfoy you seem to forget that you’re a Hufflepuff, and Hufflepuffs stick together. What is the business of one is the business of all. Don’t think that just because you alienated the entire house that we haven’t noticed how the Slytherins won’t speak to you, and when they do it is rather curtly. I don’t know why you bother. You seem to forget I’m a Pureblood too. I reckon their parents told them not to talk to you. Just because half the school is in love with Potter doesn’t mean that they’ve forgotten you’re the first Malfoy in Hufflepuff. To the Slytherins that must be a betrayal of major proportions.�

Draco sat there, stunned into silence, wondering why Macmillan wasn’t in Ravenclaw or Slytherin, even.

“Now, help me here.�

***

November 16, 1991

Draco laughed at the confused Slytherins flying about the pitch. Macmillan was laughing just as much, if not more. They were hiding beneath the Quidditch stands watching the game progress in favor of Hufflepuff. Today was the Slytherin versus Hufflepuff Quidditch match, and Draco quickly noticed that the Slytherins were cheating. A part of him felt smug, but a chord of anger vibrated in his heart at the wrongness of it all. Therefore, he had nudged Macmillan to follow him down to the bottom of the Quidditch stands. Even though he was a first year, he was still a Malfoy, and he had looked plenty of times at his father’s grimoire when his father wasn’t in his study. He had quickly thought of one of the less scary spells he had copied and memorized, then showed it to Ernie. The spell was supposed to make the person who got hit with it see double.

Currently, the Slytherin players were seeing double of everything, and were swinging their bats around erratically, or flying in circles. They looked rather silly.

“Merlin's pants, Draco! That was genius! How come you weren’t Sorted into Slytherin?�

“I already told you, Macmillan. The ratty old Hat argued with me, and I don’t feel like discussing this again. The point is moot.�

“Fine,� the other boy replied, watching Diggory score another goal.

Draco was a bit confused. Even though he knew it was wrong for the Slytherins to cheat, he couldn’t help but feel like he had done a discredit to his house with his actions and had persuaded a classmate to do the same. He frowned at Macmillan and how easy he was to manipulate into misbehaving.

“Come on, let’s go before we get caught,� Draco muttered.

“You’re right. I’ll meet you back in the common room. I’m going down to the kitchens to begin preparing for the celebration!�

Draco shook his head and smiled to himself. It seemed the Hufflepuffs celebrated for no reason whatsoever. They were constantly throwing parties and sneaking into the kitchens. He knew that the spell he used would wear out soon, and there might be a chance that the Slytherins could win either way, but he also knew it wouldn’t make a difference to his housemates. They would still have a party just because they could.

He waved to Macmillan and began walking back up the Quidditch stands when he ran into Potter. Draco scowled at him and tried to move around him but found the other boy kept blocking his way.

“Get out of my way, Potter,� Draco demanded, reaching for his wand.

“I saw what you and Macmillan did,� the other boy stated flatly.

Draco felt himself panic slightly but kept a straight face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.�

Potter narrowed his eyes at him and stood silent for a moment before talking again, “I’m not going to tell, Malfoy, if that’s what you’re worried about. But it doesn’t mean I think it’s right. I just don’t like the Slytherins. Anything that helps them lose is fine by me.�

The flare of anger burst into his heart again, but Draco was even more confused. Was he angry because Potter was talking bad about Slytherin? Or was he upset because he himself had probably helped Slytherins possibly lose?

“Like I said, Potter. I don’t know what you’re talking about,� Draco muttered, roughly pushing past the Gryffindor.

He could feel Potter’s eyes burning a hole in his back as he kept walking up, but Draco refused to turn around. His life didn’t revolve around Harry Potter, unlike half the population of the school.

***

January 6, 1992

Draco poked at the treacle tart on his plate.

“Something wrong with your dessert, Draco?� Macmillan questioned him between bites of pudding.

“I already told you not to call me Draco,� he angrily replied, pushing his dessert away.

Justin Finch-Fletchley, who always managed to sit across him no matter what part of the table they occupied, looked at Draco oddly before asking, “What’s wrong, Malfoy? You never skip dessert. Even the day we got Sorted you stuffed yourself with chocolate ice cream. I swear you make it into an art form at times.�

“Nothing’s wrong! Mind your own business.� He got up and stalked out of the Great Hall. They had a free period next, and he had several thoughts in his mind. He decided to go to his favorite place to think, the Owlery, mainly because it was far enough that his classmates wouldn’t find him. They only ever used the Owlery when they had to send letters. And the Slytherins wouldn’t go looking for him there either. Besides, they had stopped picking on him right before the end of term. They still weren’t talking to him, but little by little, Draco realized he didn’t miss them that much. Sure, they had known each other since they were in their nappies but if one silly Sorting was all it took to break apart eleven years of friendship then Draco didn’t need them. He had new friends, he thought, though he wasn’t sure.

As he put his book bag down, Draco took out some parchment and a quill, and then began scribbling to get his thoughts going. Over Christmas break, his father had given him a rather hard time over been Sorted into Hufflepuff, though he was more disappointed than upset. He even went so far as to blame his mother with her Ravenclaw sister and Hufflepuff niece. This bit of information shocked Draco. Apparently, his mother’s older sister was a Ravenclaw who married a Muggle wizard and they had a daughter named Nymphadora Tonks who had left Hogwarts the summer before. He reckoned it would have been nice having a cousin in Hogwarts, especially one in the same house as him. It would have saved him a lot of grief at the beginning of the year had he known he wasn’t exactly the first one in his family to be Sorted as a badger. And who knows, perhaps he would have been able to use her influence and status to elevate his instead of being “the kid who freaked out when he got Sorted.� He looked at his parchment and saw all the random thoughts and words all over the place. At the bottom, he noticed he'd written “letter?� and even though it was a stray thought of non-importance, it struck him as the thing he should do. He’d write to Nymphadora and ask her about her time in Hufflepuff.

He took out a fresh piece of parchment and began to compose a letter when suddenly Potter stepped into the Owlery. He scowled. “What are you doing here, Potter?�

“I’m just looking to be alone for a bit,� the other boy explained quite calmly. Draco was confused; he hadn’t expected an honest answer.

“Well, I was here first. Go find yourself another place,� he said imperiously, putting down his quill and letter.

Potter glared at him. “What’s wrong with you, Malfoy? This isn’t your private Owlery to hole yourself up in! Besides, I don’t see your name written anywhere on it!�

“That’s not important. All that matters, Potter, is that I was here before you. Any civilized person would have turned back upon seeing me here and left me in peace. Instead, you just barge in like the Gryffindor you are: acting first and asking questions later. Don’t think just because you took down a troll that I’m scared of you!� Draco huffed out between bursts of anger.

Draco idly noted, as he caught his breath, that Potter looked just as angry as he felt. “Why must you make things so difficult, Malfoy? We could have both just sat here not bothering each other like civilized people! Instead, you behave like…like…a poof just when I think you’re OK.�

Draco clenched his hands in anger. He wanted to hurt Potter. How dare he call him a poof? He didn’t even know the first thing about the wizarding world if the rumors he’d been hearing were true.

“Shut up, Potter! What do you know about me, anyway? You’re only in Charms with me, and you refused my friendship in the train. You’re nothing but a half-blood,� he screamed before roughly pushing the other boy against the wall. To his surprise, the other boy pushed back.

“You don’t know anything about me either, Malfoy!�

They both stood there, taking deep breaths, staring at each other in challenge. Draco could feel the tension in the room rise with each passing minute. However, before anything could happen, Hannah Abbott burst into the room carrying a letter.

“Draco! What are you doing up here?� she cheerfully asked before heading over to one of the school owls. She threw a wary glance at Potter.

“Nothing, Hannah. I'm done,� he replied, walking over to his abandoned writing implements and stowing them away. He waited for her to finish giving instructions to the tawny owl.

“Oh, OK. Ernie and Justin are studying in the library. Want to head down?�

He nodded mutely, grabbed his book bag and followed her out, only sparing a glance at Potter to glare at him darkly.

***

February 22, 1992

“Draco! Want to play Exploding Snap?� bellowed Ernie from the common room entrance towards the boys' dormitory. Draco, for his part, was trying to take a nap so he ignored the other boy. Soon, silence enveloped him, and he sighed happily as sleep began to claim him.

“Draco! Wake up!� Ernie’s voice was suddenly in his ear. He jerked awake, hitting Ernie in the face with his forehead.

“Ow!� they both said in unison.

“What do you want, Ernie?� he asked angrily. He had long ago given up trying to use surnames. It was futile when everyone insisted on calling you by your first name. As Draco rubbed his forehead, he remembered the Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor Quidditch match was today. However, he had wanted to take a nap before going out to cheer for his house; Potions had been brutal lately and he had been staying up late doing homework for his godfather. It seemed like no one in Hufflepuff, though, understood the concept of sleeping in or taking naps. Draco learned this rather quickly during his first month in the Badger Den, as they called their part of the castle. Therefore, when no one was looking, he took a short naps. They were always short-lived though because undoubtedly someone would come trudging in to wake him up.

“The match is going to start! You’ve been asleep for two hours.�

“WHAT? Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?� he bellowed in a very undignified manner.

“You’re always complaining about not letting you sleep in and the one time I do, you complain? Merlin! You’re impossible!� the other boy huffed in annoyance.

“Never mind that!� Draco replied, grabbing his coat, scarf, and gloves. “Let’s go! I don’t want to miss a single thing! That way we can rub it in Potter’s face when we win!�

He bounded out of bed and down the sett-like corridors of their dorms. Just as he was making his way out the portrait, Ernie caught up with him. “Zacharias is saving us some of the good seats! I don’t really see what it matters who wins though! You know we’re still throwing a party! And between the other three houses we’ll crush Slytherin this year! Isn’t that all that matters?�

Draco halted suddenly in his tracks. Was that all that mattered?

***

April 13, 1992

Draco stared in horror at the green substance.

“Oh, come on, Draco, it’s not that bad! You wizards have every flavor jelly beans! If that isn’t odd, then color me Ravenclaw! Avocado, however, is hardly dangerous or odd. It’s just very green,� Justin casually pointed out while digging into his Muggle fruit.

“And it’s very tasty too!� piped in Ernie next to him. “Add some salt to it. It gives it just the right flavor!� He grabbed the saltshaker and threw some over Draco’s avocado.

Hannah Abbott, next to him, was finishing her half. “Hey! If you don’t want that, I’ll take it, Draco!� She made a grab for it, but Draco was faster. He squished the fruit a bit too hard though, and it smeared all over his hand. Ernie and Justin began howling in laughter at his disgust while Hannah merely chuckled, withdrawing a handkerchief for him to use.

As he wiped his hand clean, Draco guarded his half of the Muggle fruit nonchalantly. Over the weekend Justin, who was apparently a very wealthy Muggle before finding out he was a wizard, had received several avocadoes from his mum. He had made a big deal out of it in the common room after opening the package and said he was only sharing with his closest friends when they were ripe. This news made several Hufflepuffs ‘hmm’ in disapproval, while others simply nodded in agreement. He hadn’t thought much of it, just poking the fruit and thinking it looked a bit like a dragon egg, not that he’d ever seen one.

By Monday, Draco had forgotten all about the avocado, and started focusing on exams. He had heard Granger had begun revising back in March. It was no wonder his godfather often went about calling her an insufferable know-it-all under his breath. Therefore, during their free period, he started to head towards the library, when Justin came running up to him and said to meet him in the common room. In another lifetime, Draco wouldn’t have spared a second glance at someone who flippantly gave him orders, but he had learned that life as a Hufflepuff was much different than Slytherin. Whenever he received letters from home, his father would speak of the glorious days of Slytherin when plots and plans were made to take down the older Slytherins a notch. It was every man for himself: very cutthroat, trying to stay a step ahead of everyone else. Draco had spent a lot of time wondering if that’s what he had really wanted back in September, and had come to the conclusion that it wasn’t.

Therefore, that’s how he found himself sitting in a circle on the floor of the boys' dormitory with Ernie, Justin, and Hannah, staring at the avocadoes. Justin had explained about the benefits of the fruit, and its rich taste. Then he had taken out a pocket blade and cut the two avocadoes into four equal parts. Justin started eating his right away. Ernie and Hannah were hesitant but they bit down almost at the same time. Only Draco stared at it like it had extra heads, which was ridiculous considering it didn’t even have a head in the first place. Draco didn’t think the actual fruit was repulsive, but it was the shock that Justin chose to share it with him. He considered Draco a close friend. If he ate the avocado would that mean that Ernie, Hannah, and Justin were his real friends and not just alliances to get him through his first year? He picked up the fruit again, carefully this time.

“Come on, Draco! Channel your inner Gryffindor,� pouted Justin. “How are you going to know what you like if you don’t even try it?�

Draco scowled. “Please don’t call me a Gryffindor!�

“Fine, fine! Just eat it already!�

Chewing on his bottom lip, Draco gingerly sniffed it before taking a bite out of it. It was a bit slimy but it definitely had a rich deep taste to it. He smiled. Turning around to look at his friends, Draco stuck his tongue out, a bit green from the fruit.

“Ew, Draco! That’s gross!� squealed Hannah as Justin and Ernie cheered.

***

May 11, 1992

“You’ll never guess what I just saw in the main entrance!� Susan Bones exclaimed as he and Ernie were making their way out of the portrait.

“What?� Ernie humored her. Susan was always starting conversations with fantastical claims.

“The Gryffindors lost one hundred fifty points overnight!�

“What?� asked Draco. “You’re joking!�

“No, I’m not. Come,� she urged, grabbing Draco’s hand and pulling him all the way up to the main entrance. He blushed at the handholding, and let go of her hand as soon as they arrived in front of the hourglasses that kept track of the points where a group of bewildered Gryffindors stood.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding, Susan,� Ernie gasped. “Do you know why?�

“I heard that Harry Potter lost all those points last night!� she said. Draco rolled his eyes before heading over to breakfast.

“Stupid Potter,� he mumbled.

While eating, Draco noticed that a lot of the Ravenclaws and even some Hufflepuffs had decidedly turned against Potter. This would have normally made him happy and smug, but he also felt it wasn’t right to take out their anger on one person. As he and Ernie were walking out of the Great Hall, Draco overheard Zabini telling Potter, “Thanks, Potter, we owe you one!�

“Knock it off, Zabini!� he said before he could stop himself. Potter looked at him bewildered while his sidekick stood his ground next to him.

“Or else what, Malfoy? What are you going to do about it? Throw a hissy fit like a baby?� sneered Zabini. It temporarily shocked Draco to hear his surname been used having gone so many weeks just by his first name. But, true to his credit as a Malfoy, he recovered quickly.

He scowled darkly at Zabini, took out his wand, and said coolly, “No. But I’ll hex your bollocks off.�

All the boys present grimaced and looked a bit scandalized.

“That’s impossible! There’s no such spell!� Zabini casually mentioned though he looked a bit unsure.

“Want to try it out?� Draco threatened. “You continue being a git, and I’ll just swish and flick and you will be bollocks free.� Ernie stood next to him, trying not to laugh, while Weasley stared at him darkly, and Potter appeared bemused.

Zabini looked unsure of himself. It seemed he was torn between calling Draco’s bluff or retreating. Draco decided to play his next card.

“I think you’re forgetting, Zabini, that while I may be a Hufflepuff, I’m still a Malfoy. And I’ve been a Malfoy for a lot longer than I’ve been a badger.� The other boy stared angrily at him before turning around and stomping out of the Great Hall. After Zabini and his entourage retreated, Draco found Potter staring at him with his haunting green eyes. He nodded curtly at the Gryffindor before walking out as well.

***

June 7, 1992

Draco was looking for his favorite quill. It was silver, and he had lent it to Ernie the last day of exams. He claimed it gave him good luck. After he found it buried under a pile of laundry, Draco sat down to write a letter to his father. He had heard rumors all over school that Harry Potter was in the hospital wing. That in itself didn’t seem like something he needed to write to his father. No, he had heard the most peculiar story about Potter, Weasley, and Granger fighting off Professor Quirrell and the Dark Lord. Draco didn’t know exactly what he was going to write, but he felt like he needed to alert his father. He had been so preoccupied with been Sorted into Hufflepuff that he’d temporarily forgotten all about the Dark Lord, and his father’s pureblood propaganda had been shoved down his throat since birth. Just as he began writing down a greeting, Justin walked in.

“Draco, we’re going to play Wizard’s chess and then going down to the lake to enjoy the sun. Want to join us?�

Draco stared at his friend, who was a Muggleborn. Ever since the avocado incident, he had stopped thinking of his friends as ‘half-blood,’ ‘pureblood,’ or ‘Muggleborn/Mudblood.’ Justin was a good friend, a much better friend than any of the Slytherins had been. Granger, annoying as she was, had continually shown she was just as good if not better than Weasley, a Pureblood. And Potter: he was a half-blood who had lived through an Avada Kedavra as a toddler, and was now recovering from a belated attack by the Dark Lord.

He frowned.

“It’s OK if you don’t want to play, you know! Hannah was the one who sent me here to ask, really. I think she’s sweet on you,� the other boy grinned.

Draco blushed.

“Aw, is Draco sweet on little Hannah too? Wait until I tell her!�

“Shut up!� he said, before putting his quill and parchment away, and getting up to follow his friend.

He figured he had a lot of thinking to do about this Dark Lord business. Maybe wait until his father brought the subject up as he was undoubtedly bound to do during the summer.

***

June 20, 1992

“You’ll write to me right?� Hannah asked as the Hogwarts Express began pulling into the platform.

“Of course,� Susan replied.

Draco shook his head at their girly antics. Ernie, catching on to this, began flailing about. “Oh, Draco, you’ll write to me too, won’t you?�

He started to laugh but stifled it when he saw the glare of the two girls.

“It’s not funny,� Hannah pouted.

“Sure it isn’t,� Justin piped in from where he was trying to stuff his collection of Chocolate Frogs back into his trunk.

Suddenly, the train stopped moving, and almost as soon as the doors flew open, students started pouring out moving towards their anxiously waiting families. Draco spotted his parents rather fast from the carriage window. His father didn’t look happy. A flutter of nervousness began to blossom in the pit of his stomach. However, before he could worry about it, he was being squeezed tightly by Susan and Hannah.

“Oh, I hope you have a good summer, Draco. Write to me,� Susan cried at the same time that Hannah let go of him and moved on to Ernie who had the most bewildered expression on his face.

Draco smiled to himself knowing he would miss his housemates before waving to them and dragging his trunk behind him.

***

September 1, 1992

Draco was sitting in one of the many carriages in the Hogwarts Express waiting for his friends to show up. He reminisced how only a year ago he had stalked the corridors of the train looking for Harry Potter to try to gain his alliance, acting as his father’s emissary.

True to his father’s character, he had heard about the Dark Lord and Potter. However, Draco quickly realized that his father didn’t really say a lot around him because he didn’t think very much of Draco’s status as a Hufflepuff. This hurt and wounded his Malfoy pride, but it angered him at the same time. His mother had just hugged him every night and reminded him that however misguided his father’s ideals were, he loved him very much.

He was shaken out of his thoughts when a first year girl with wide grey eyes, and blonde hair walked into the carriage. His first thought was that his father had bastard children, but then she introduced herself as Luna Lovegood, and Draco realized her hair was much yellow than light blonde.

He nodded and motioned for her to sit. She took out a magazine and started reading it upside down. Draco raised an eyebrow, and was going to say something about it when Hannah and Ernie burst into the carriage.

“There you are! We’ve been looking all over for you! What are you doing all the way back here?� Ernie questioned him.

“Hiding,� he murmured. Hannah shrugged and sat down next to Lovegood.

“You know, that magazine is upside down,� she pointed out.

The girl looked up dreamily before replying, “Is it?�

Ernie and Draco shared a look. They all rode in silence for a while before Susan walked into the compartment demanding to know how everyone’s summer had been. As they talked amongst themselves, ignoring Lovegood, Draco learned that Justin had to get spectacles over the holiday. Unlike Potter’s they were quite stylish, but Justin was still rather shy about wearing them. He also learned that Hannah and Ernie had written quite a lot to each other over the summer. Draco smiled to himself knowingly.

Eventually, their conversation came to a lull and the other three Hufflepuffs fell asleep. Draco chose to read his Tranfiguration book, making random notes on the edges of the paper. After a while, Draco closed his book and stared out at the country side.

When the train started slowing down, Lovegood spoke up, “Are you a Malfoy?�

He tore his gaze from the scenery. “I am.�

“My father said that Malfoys are Dark wizards who only get sorted into Slytherin.�

Draco wasn’t too shocked to hear this.

“We are.�

“Yet, you’re a green-tinted Hufflepuff,� she pointed out flatly.

“So I am,� he replied.

He thought she would ask him further questions but instead she looked down at her magazine. Four minutes passed before she continued the conversation, “Why were you sorted into Hufflepuff?�

“The Hat had it out for me.�

“Hmm…I do hear that the Sorting Hat has a mind of its own.�

Draco smirked.

Lovegood gave him a crooked smile. “I wonder what I’d look like with a Hufflepuff badge.�

He gave her a flabbergasted look. “Well, I’d like to say you’re not Hufflepuff material from what I can tell, but then again I am one.�

“Do you ever wish you were a Slytherin?�

Draco thought about it.

“Not anymore.�