Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co., belong to the lovely J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author of such a fabulous work.

Warnings: READ CAREFULLY BEFORE CONTINUING!

1. THIS IS NOT FOR CHILDREN. If you are younger than 15, I don’t recommend you read it. I won’t stop you if you want to though, and I’m not forcing you.

2. This is going to be DARK. There will be abuse, rape, bad language, probably cutting, suicide attempts, drug usage, bad clubbing behaviour, unprotected sex, underage sex, non-con sex, hot and heavy “holy fuck, that’s so good!” sex, and all the stuff in between.

3. NO, I do NOT have experience with ANY of the things mentioned in #2. The descriptions, the feelings, how it’s done, unless researched (haha!) will all be imagined by me. I have no idea how a person who has had those things happen to them feels. I don’t think I want to know. One or two people I know, have cut, but to my knowledge, have stopped and I know of some of their pain, their reasons.

4. I also don’t condone the use or practices of anything in #2. Except for the good sex part. As long as you’re of age.

5. I LIKE SUGGESTIONS. They do help. Though I might not fit them in there in the way you see them happening, it might inspire something.

6. I do not, however, like to be told I’m sick for writing a malexmale story. If you don’t like it, DON’T READ IT.

Notes: A Non-magic, AU, again. I’ve passed the idea by a friend, who knows Harry and his world and its fanfiction backwards, forwards, and inside and out. She’d never really heard of one like this. Yay. As I hate angst and anything sad, it’s odd that I’m writing this, and constructive criticism especially now at the start is greatly appreciated. If you’ve written, or at least read a few of these stories and know what you’re talking about, then your comments are welcomed and I will take them into consideration and remember them for the future. I’m going to try my best, but I’ve never refused help.

Hope you like it!

Night Life – Chapter 1

“So, are you coming or what, mate?”

Harry Potter worked his locker shut, an extra slam with his shoulder sealing it tight – tight enough to give him more troubles the next morning. Rubbing the twinge of pain from his arm, he turned towards his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Flashing them a slightly embarrassed grin, he followed it with: “Sorry guys, McGonagall wants to see me. I’ll see you tomorrow though.”

Ron’s freckled face fell. “All right, Harry. Good luck with McGonagall. No knowing what she’s getting you in trouble for now.”

Hermione, the brains and beauty of the trio, punched the redhead in the arm. “You shouldn’t talk about your professors that way! One day, they’ll hear you. Besides, McGonagall’s really nice! I’m sure she just wants to give him some suggestions for his English essay.” She scolded, speaking of the 10 page essay they had been assigned the week before. The topic you wanted to do had to be approved today, and McGonagall had found Harry’s essay topic to be incredibly interesting it seemed. Though, a historical comparison between Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet and teenage romance in these times didn’t summon up quite the eagerness in Harry as it did in McGonagall.

Harry grinned at the two of them. He didn’t know what he’d do without them; They were the best part of his life. “Tough argument there, Ron. I’ll see if we can hang out Saturday. I have to ask my aunt though. Would it be all right with your mum?”

“Mum loves having you over, Harry, just convince your aunt – tell her it’s to do homework. With Hermione there, I’m sure that’s what we’ll be doing.” His last comment earned him another, much harder, punch from the girl. “Ow!”

Harry laughed. “Better take that back, Ron. You’ll never get her to say yes that way.” He reached over and grabbed Hermione’s wrist to check the time. “I’ve got to go. Later guys.” He picked up his bag, hefting it over his shoulder, leaving one of his best friends red-faced and mute, the other demanding to know what she would not say yes too, stopping to yell a quick – “Bye, Harry!”

Chuckling to himself, the sixteen year old made his way down the hall to McGonagall’s office. He was actually a little worried about why she had asked to see him. His grades were exemplary and he always had everything done and handed in on time – no matter how much school he missed. Reaching the office, he knocked politely on the door, and waited to hear her call for him.

“Enter.” Abrupt and to the point, that was Ms. McGonagall.

Harry did so, shutting the door tightly behind him. “You wanted to see me?”

“Indeed, that would be why I asked you to come see me after school. Sit down.”

Harry did as he was told; perching on the edge of one of the hard, straight backed chairs she kept in front of her desk. “Er… what is this about, m’am?”

She sent aside the papers she had been grading, looking at him over the rims of her rectangular glasses, picking up a tin from the corner of her desk. “Biscuit, Mr. Potter.”

“Er, no, thank you, I’m fine.”

“It wasn’t a question. They’re ginger.”

Harry took one, sitting back with it and taking a polite bite. “Thank you m’am.”

“You’re quite welcome. Now,” She pulled out another file folder and some pamphlets. She handed one of them over to Harry to look at. It was for another school, a private one he’d heard of maybe once or twice before; St. Andrew’s. Not anything like, ‘St. Andrew’s School for the Gifted’, ‘St. Andrew’s Boys/Girls’ School’, ‘St. Andrew’s Corrective School’; just the one plain and simple name. It could almost be mistaken for the name of a church. Though, it was probably that too. He could imagine that they would all be forced to attend deathly boring Catholic services every Sunday morning with out fail. Without any sort of identifying feature tacked onto the name, it was just a regular boarding school. Wealthy kids from this area attended there, no one needing to be particularly smart or of genius to attend.

He looked at it with only a slight curiosity, flipping disinterestedly through the pictures of lush and sprawling school grounds, the happy faces of the students staring out at him. Harry closed it and put it back on her desk.

“What’s this for?”

“To give you more information or answer your questions.” McGonagall replied.

“I don’t have any, other than why you’re showing it to me. It’s a nice school, sure, but I go here. And I could never afford that.”

“I know that, Harry.” She stood from her desk, pacing around the room slightly as she spoke. “A dear old friend of mine, is Headmaster there, and has asked me to come teach there. They also offer scholarships to some students, knowing that with the access to a highly regarded teaching staff and to the environment that St. Andrew’s has, that these students could do far better and achieve more in life than they could if they remained in their current situations and their current schools.” She ended up back at her desk, placing both hands on the back of her chair as she observed him. “Do you see why now, Mr. Potter?”

Harry sat back and turned her words over in his mind. A better school, a chance to escape his current life. He knew McGongall knew what it was like for him at home, and that school wasn’t always much better, and neither of them had made any attempts to hide the fact they knew. McGongall had been the one to shove him into a group project with Ron and Hermione six months into his first year at the high school, providing him with friends, and a place to escape to when he needed it. Mrs. Weasley was the best thing to a mother Harry had ever had, and was grudgingly grateful to McGonagall for this.

He picked up the brochure looking it over again. “Do I have to decide now?”

“No, but I’d like you to have an answer soon.” She replied, taking her seat again. “Take your time with this Harry, but I don’t think an opportunity like this will present itself again.”

He looked down at the smiling faces in his hand. It couldn’t be so bad. He’d have clothes that fit properly - even if they were a uniform, he’d have plenty of meals with no risk of them being taken away. Probably a comfortable bed with enough room around said bed to at least stretch. Nope, not all that bad at all.

“I’ll go. I accept.” He said, looking up into her face.

She smiled what would be a soft smile for her. “Splendid. I’ll get that all put together then, and the both of us should be ready to go in about a week.”

“So soon?” Harry asked, startled. That wasn’t much time…

“Do you wish to drag out your situation any longer?” McGonagall asked, giving him a hard look.

Harry returned that look with one that said she wasn’t talking to one of her stupider students. “Of course not. I’ve already realized that this is possibly the only chance I’ll get. I just expected that it would take longer than a week. And saying goodbye to Ron and Hermione too, that will take some time.” He explained, wondering what the two of them with think of his chance luck and this sudden change. They’d be happy for him, but so soon and having to say goodbye, well, he could just imagine it. Lots of tears, though Ron would try to hide it.

McGonagall leaned forward placing her hand over Harry’s in a comforting manner. It was strange, and quite unlike her. “I realize it’s a sudden change, but we’re just a month into the new school year. I’m sure Mr. Weasley and Miss. Granger will understand the need for promptness. It will be difficult, but there will still be opportunities for you to keep in touch, perhaps.” She withdrew her hand, and picked up a pen to start on the forms. “Now, I think that it would be best if you went and informed your aunt and uncle of this change. They will need to sign a few things, seeing as they are, unfortunately, still your legal guardians. Take a biscuit or two with you.”

Harry did, feeling oddly disconnected with this moment inside her office. Seeing as he hadn’t yet done anything to get his dinner taken away, he did take a couple biscuits from her tin. He might need them, coming home late from school like he was.

-x-

Harry opened the front door, finding it unlocked for once. He wasn’t trusted to have a key to the house himself; for fear he would sell off the Dursley’s possessions and run away with the money he got from that act, or some other ridiculous thing they had concocted to explain why. Harry snorted at that thought. As if he was ever left alone here.

But in case it had been locked, one of Uncle Vernon’s house keys had gone ‘missing’ once, and mysteriously found its way into the flower bed out the front. There was no risk of anyone finding it, since Harry was the only one that tended to the flowers. Suspecting Harry had it though, had lead Uncle Vernon to strip searching the teen and when not found, sentenced him to only a mildly severe beating and one week without meals. “The norm” as Harry knew it.

Not bothering to call out “I’m home!” once he entered the house, Harry dropped his bag off in his ‘room’ as wishful thinking would call it. He started towards the kitchen, hoping to grab something small to eat before anyone came home or caught him in there. Biscuits wouldn’t last forever.

“Where were you, boy!” His uncle’s voice raged towards him, stopping Harry in his tracks just as he reached the door to the kitchen. It came from the living room, and Harry turned to answer the calling, shuffling towards his doom slowly. “Get in here NOW!”

Harry jumped and hurried to the doorway of the living room. “Sorry Sir. One of my teachers needed to speak to me and it took longer than I thought.”

Uncle Vernon was best described as what many would describe him as: A walrus of a man, large and rotund with a moustache that did not help the image and virtually no neck. He often turned amusing colours though, like a child’s game might. Pink, purple, red, a brighter red, green occasionally, and sometimes when he was angry enough, white. Not that Harry ever found it amusing, just horrifying, a clear sign to gauge his uncle’s level of anger by.

“What reason would there be for that, boy? They finally catch you doing something you shouldn’t be?” Uncle Vernon said with a disgusted sneer.

“No Sir. Ms. McGonagall wanted to see me. She actually…” He hesitated, not being ready to reveal this information yet. He had wanted to do it when his uncle was in a better mood. No choice now though.

“Spit it out, boy! I haven’t got all day for your incompetent sputtering!”

“She said she was able to get me into a private school. A good one. On a scholarship. She wanted me to tell you about it, because there will probably be things to sign.” ‘Do not cringe, do not cringe, you are not afraid!’ Harry mentally steeled himself. But he was. This could not go well.

“What! Impossible! No one would ever want you in their school! Tarnish the reputation they have! And why should I allow you to go?!” Vernon raged. “Which school is it, probably not a very good one if they want to take you on.”

“St. Andrew’s.” Harry said, keeping his voice low, but not low enough that he would be yelled at for that too.

“St. Andrew’s! You’re asking to go there? A school better than Dudley’s?! Do you think you deserve that, boy?”

“N-no. It was Ms. McGonagall’s idea. Not mine.” Harry clarified, sensing his impending punishment.

“Then you’ll understand why you’re not going, won’t you, boy?”

Harry finally decided to stand up for himself a little. “No, sir, I won’t. You and Aunt Petunia are always saying how I’m a drain on you and the house, how you wish my parents had left me at an orphanage, how I should be dead too, that I don’t deserve half of what I’ve got that I’m lucky to have you provide for me. But I’m NOT! I’m not any of that, and any child deserves much more than you’ve given me from the “kindness of our hearts”! No one would consider themselves lucky to be thrust into your care. Sometimes, I almost feel sorrier for Dudley than I do myself.”

That was just enough, for Uncle Vernon. His hands, balled into fists throughout their argument, now raised, and Harry caught one in the cheek, sending him to the ground. He had been caught off guard with the tiny bit of pride he allowed himself to feel at that argument, and hadn’t notice the fist until it hit him. He grunted in pain as he hit the floor. Wiping the back of his hand across his face, he knew there would be a pretty bruise there the next day. He stood again, defiant today. “It’s the truth. You can’t refuse to acknowledge it forever.”

He was rewarded for his unfailing logic with another punch, this one meeting right under his jaw, slamming his teeth together and sending sharp shots of pain through his skull. Hitting the arm chair this time on his way down, he lay there for a moment, before he got up quickly, dashing into the hallway. He wrenched open the front door, knowing that Vernon would be right behind him. Harry darted out through the door, running away down the street.

“YOU’LL BE SORRY!”

His uncle roared from the front stoop, refusing to chase after his errant nephew. Harry didn’t care. Not anymore. He just ran.

Eventually he stopped. He didn’t recognize anything around him, but it certainly wasn’t the middle class area where the Dursley’s made their home. The houses around him were huge, the upper class section of his town for certain. Scared that some lady or her maid, maybe the butler would look out the window and call the police on account of their being a suspicious looking teenager hanging around their nice homes. He bent over, head nearly meeting his knees as he laboured to get enough breath into his lungs which heaved under his too think frame. Dying of thirst, yet having too much phlegm in his mouth, he spat it onto the ground, and there was a disgusted “tch”, from behind him.

Harry whirled around, tripping over himself in his haste and nearly ending up on his backside again. A well dressed, impeccably groomed, blond man stood before him. Man – though he looked young enough to be Harry’s age or younger with that flawless complexion. Silver eyes shone in the setting sun, and Harry was stunned. The other teen lifted a perfectly manicured hand, and Harry flinched, though it was only being offered to help sort him out. A lifeline.

“Do you - ” the upper crust, manner filled voice was cut off, Harry having gotten over his shock. He pushed past, nearly knocking the stranger to the ground in his hurry to get away. He ran again, a second wind hitting him as he turned back the way he had come. Ron’s. That’s where he could hide. Mrs. Weasley would welcome the opportunity to coddle him.

Draco Malfoy was left standing on the side walk in his neighbourhood, completely shocked and not entirely certain what had just transpired. The teen had looked like he could have used some help. And Draco had nearly offered it, but his words had been ignored. He sniffed in disdain. Malfoy’s did not offer their assistance every day. The slap of the teen’s ragged sneakers had faded into the distance and Draco made his way back to the manor, putting the thought of brilliant emerald eyes out of his mind.

Who was he?

Ron’s was a safe haven, one that Harry was extremely grateful for. The Weasley family was just sitting down to dinner when Harry arrived, red-faced and out of breath from his jaunt through the town. Mrs. Weasley fussed over him and soon got him straightened out, setting a steaming bowl of stew and dumplings in front of him, pushing the bowl full of buns to sop up the gravy closer to his reach. He answered their questions, giving the short explanation as to how he had ended up on their doorstep once again in urgent need of the hospitality the crooked little house offered. Uncle was displeased with something he had done yet again, and before it could get too bad, he had run out. Straight to their house, as they knew it, Harry also not including the fact he’d ended up in the wealthy end of town.

By the end, he had Mrs. Weasley fuming and quite rattled, offering him more stew, but ladling from the empty bun bowl (which was fine, he was stuffed); Ron’s brothers (the three that were present) and even his younger sister were making dire suggestions to avenge their friend’s honour, (Mr. Weasley put a stop to that when Bill said he had a friend with a shotgun), and Harry sat there quietly, letting their energy wash around him like buffeting waves. He’d long ago learned to swim against the current of this ocean though, and wouldn’t be swept away by it. They would calm down soon enough.

Harry grabbed Ron by the shirtsleeve as he passed by on a rant about how that walrus would get what was coming to him. “Ron. I need to talk to you.” Everyone stopped. The kitchen fell silent, probably a rare thing even at night when the family wasn’t occupying it. Seven pairs of eyes stared at him from varied locations. “Please.”

Ron broke from his trance. “Uh, sure thing, mate. What about?”

“Er, can we go to your room for a bit?” Harry asked, ignoring all the eyes on him.

Proving to be smarter than he sometimes seemed, Ron led Harry from the kitchen and up to his room. The rest of the family remained silent and stock still, following Harry with their eyes even after he was out of their line of sight. The sharp click of Ron’s door could be heard even from two floors up, which broke the tense air in the room, and their concentration on their guest.

“Well,” Mrs. Weasley started. “Well, let’s get cleaned up then. Fred, go pull out the extra bedding will you? George, go see if you can find the cot, wherever we last put it. Check the attic.” She said, directing the twins into action, giving a purpose to the moment. “Hurry along. We haven’t got all night.”

The twins left to find their sought after items, while Bill and his father went into the living room to discuss the situation with lowered voices and furtive glances towards the kitchen and the stairs.

Up out of the hearing range of his family, Ron asked; “What’s up?”

Harry settled himself next to Ron on his bright orange bed and fidgeted with his hands as he though of how to say this.

“Harry, your uncle… he didn’t do something else to you did he? Not… even he…” Ron tried to ask awkwardly. It was bad enough that he had even thought of it to ask, but something private, something Harry was having a hard time getting out? He couldn’t help but ask it, a thought that had occurred to him a few too many times before.

Harry shook his head and was quick to reassure his friend. “It’s not what you’re thinking. He’d never do something like that, no matter how angry I made him. Only way I can think of it, is that he has ‘standards’, as twisted as his are.” Harry smiled sardonically. “It’s the one thing I can be thankful for.”

Ron just shook his head, rubbing his hands on the thighs of his jeans, trying to wipe the thought away as easily he could the sweat on his palms. He grinned though. “I’m glad it’s not that then. Heh. Thankful for one thing, I suppose you’re right.”

Harry’s smile fell slightly, but Ron didn’t really notice. “I…I’m changing schools. McGonagall got me this scholarship to a private school – she knows the headmaster somehow – and well, she sorta said that she wanted me to have a second chance. Something better than what I have now.”

“Change schools? That’s what she wanted to see you about?”

“Yeah. She just handed me this thing and was like ‘you’re going there’. It was kinda strange.”

“I’d say! Just a little! Are you really going? What am I saying; Of course you are - anything to get away from your ‘family’.” Ron accented the last word with air quotes, a tell-a-tale sign that he disagreed with the legal terms of that word, and that he was getting mad again, thinking about it.

“How soon? When does McGonagall want you to go?”

“She’s going to, got a job offer there or something, so in a week, the both of us will be gone. A lot less time then I would have thought, but she says its better this way.” Harry told him, waiting on edge for Ron’s reaction.

“A week? That’s not a lot of time, Harry, especially when it’s my best mate that’s leaving me.” Ron stood and paced a bit. “Ah, what am I saying? That doesn’t matter. It’s a good chance for you. You won’t be running over here anymore when you need a place to sleep.” Ron grinned, clapping his hand on Harry’s shoulder. Manly comfort, telling Harry, he’d miss him, but that was okay. This was better for him.

Harry smiled. “At least you’re taking it well. I expected more tears.”

Ron’s face dropped its cheerful grin and he picked up a pillow, swinging it at Harry’s arm. “Yeah right!”

Harry leaned away from the hit and was left laughing as Ron continued to try and get him with the pillow. He was just about to choke out a plea for mercy when they could hear Fred and George tramping up the stairs, as fast as they could with their burdens. Grunts were heard as George heaved the cot up, interspersed with comments that Fred should “get your fat arse outta my way!” Followed by reaffirmation that they were twins, and Fred’s fat arse was George’s fat arse too. They burst into the room, all angry bickering and jolly expressions when they saw that Harry was still alive and well.

“Harry! What’s all the secrecy about, mate?” Fred started.

“You know you can always tell us! Best secret keepers, we are!” George finished.

Harry found himself grinning again as they dropped everything in the doorway, coming over to sit on either side of him. “Best secret keepers, eh? I thought it was you two that was best at sharing them.”

The twins faked gasps of shock and dismay. “Harry! Why would you say something like that? Hurt our tender feelings, will ya?” They exclaimed in unison.

“Tell us!”

Harry got his laughter under control and managed to tell them his ‘secret’. “It’s not much of a secret, I just wanted Ron to know first. I’m switching schools, McGonagall’s got some connections at this place, and she wants me there in a week.”

“Not just any other school,” Ron put in. “A private one. He’ll get to go to school with all those rich kids on the other side of town, stuck up prats the lot of them. Maids and butlers my arse.”

“You’re just jealous.” The twins chorused.

“Congrats Harry, you’ll finally get away from your god-awful uncle.” Fred put in.

“Yeah, right bit of luck, even if Ron’s right and you have to go with all those snobs.” George agreed.

“Thanks guys. I think I can handle them fine. Only bad part is leaving all of you guys.”

“Well, McGonagall will let you visit somehow, wouldn’t she? I mean, she can’t just completely take you away from your family.” Ron said, sitting down on the floor, the other three having taken up all the space on his bed.

“Yeah, she did say that. However she’s going to make it work, getting them to allow me to go, she’ll need to get me back to them eventually. Summer holidays and all that. Probably be able to visit before that though. I mean, how much homework could I possibly have every weekend?”

Ron and the twins laughed at that. “Yeah, right, at least you’re not Hermione or we’d never see you cause of all the extra studying you’d be able to do there.” The red-head joked.

“Don’t let her hear you say that.” Harry warned. “I meant it earlier, she’ll never say yes if you keep treating her like that.”

Ron had the grace to blush crimson, fairly matching his hair. The twins, catching on to something they hadn’t known before – surprise, surprise – let out a whoop. “Oho! What’s this now? Ickle Ronnie has a crush on his best girl friend, eh?” George started.

“Harry’s right you know, you’ll never get a girl talking about her that. You should have come to George and I, we’re writing a manual on that sort of thing. We might give you a couple free pointers, since we’re not done yet.”

“You two, writing a manual on getting girls? Yeah right, and what was the longest relationship you’ve ever had?” Ron shook his head in disbelief, knowing he wasn’t going to fall for his brothers’ scam this time.

“Angelina and I have been going together for two weeks now, and I got her using the manual.” said proudly.

“And I’ve been with Katie just as long, though I had to use some different parts of the manual, since they’d be comparing our wooing genius of course.”

“Of course.” Ron agreed, looking highly sceptical now.

“But the two of you had fancied the both of them for at least a year now, and they put you off, until they agreed to one date. Why they agreed to continue dating you is beyond a normal person’s rationale.” Harry gave this perfectly worded jibe, smirking by the end of it.

“Hey! We resent that!” The twins exclaimed.

Ron laughed, the others joining in. It took a few minutes, and a shout from Mrs. Weasley, but they settled down and got the cot set up for Harry, the twins left, slapping Harry on the back and congratulating him again. The boys got ready for bed, taking their turns in the bathroom among very one else.

Laying in the dark, they continued to talk for a little while, conversation drifting on and off as they drifted into sleep.

-x-

Harry ended up staying the rest of the weekend with the Weasleys, heading to school on Monday, feeling suddenly apprehensive half way there. What if McGonagall couldn’t pull it off? Sure, no one dared cross her, but that was in school. He had a feeling that his uncle would view his meeting a tad differently than an easily cowed high school student would.

Ron stopped his monologue, realizing that Harry was no longer next to him. “Harry? What’s up?”

“What if she can’t do it? McGonagall isn’t immortal. Something will stop her, and I think it just could be uncle Vernon.”

Ron stared. “Your uncle won’t survive McGonagall. Once she knows what she wants, or how to save someone, she’ll get her way. Just like any woman.”

“Just like any woman, what, Ronald?” A slightly irritated sounding voice came from behind the red-head. Ron turned around slowly, the look of the damned crossing his face.

“Hermione! Lovely morning isn’t? Such a joy to see you so early in this fine day!” Ron said, his voice unusually high, and his grin unusually wide.

“What were you just saying, Ronald? Something about being ‘just like any woman’? You wouldn’t mean me, would you?”

“Now, Hermione, it wasn’t like that, you didn’t quite hear the whole conversation. I was saying, that McGonagall always gets her way, just like most women do. I was in no way implying anything about you.” Ron said, trying to fix this severe misunderstanding.

Hermione sized him up for a moment, then turned to Harry. “Is that true, you really were talking about McGonagall?”

Harry nodded. “We were; I was going to wait ‘til we had met up with you at school to tell you everything. Which I will. In a moment.”

Hermione eyed the two teens critically. For a moment, it seemed that she was going to launch into them again, but it was getting late, and Hermione was anything but tardy, ever. “All right then. We’ll talk at break.” That said, she spun around on her heel and continued to the school.

Both wilted thankfully to be out of her grasp for the moment. “I dunno what’s wrong with her today, mate, but be careful when you tell her.” Ron advised.

Harry nodded grimly. “I will. And I think you just might be right about that woman thing. They’re all too alike – and complicated. Good job deflecting her though.”

“Thanks. It was close for a minute there, I tell ya. I thought we’d never get out of that one. Not even talking about her and it’s blown up into a major event.”

“You sure you want to date her?”

Ron shook his head and smiled. “Wouldn’t have her any other way.”

-x-

“YOU’RE WHAT?” Hermione exclaimed loudly, slamming her locker shut after grabbing her books for the next class. “Oh Harry! That’s so wonderful! But you can’t! Your uncle would never let you. How are you planning on letting McGonagall down?”

Ron and Harry looked at her with identical expressions of disbelief. “Way to have faith in him, ‘Mione.” Ron said, shaking his head and taking out his own books.

“Yeah, thanks, Hermione. Nice to know you’re behind me.” Harry frowned at her. “To update your information, my uncle knows, and he refused to let me go, naturally. I spent the weekend at Ron’s. Yes, about now you’d think I’d normally give up – but McGonagall won’t, and I don’t want too. Which, is what you so graciously overheard this morning. She has it all planned out, she’s not going to just stand for letting me stay in that house, so she came up with a way to do it – that doesn’t seem like she’s being overly nice, since she’s leaving too, and this is an actual scholarship that St. Andrew’s has. So, you see, I have no intentions what so ever of telling her “Sorry M’am, I can’t go.” This is the only chance I’ll get ‘Mione. Do you seriously think I’d just let it go?” He pleaded to her sensitive (womanly) side, knowing he’d win and go: whether she agreed or not.

As predicted, Hermione softened. “Oh, Harry, dear, I didn’t know it was all set out like that. Of course I don’t want you to be stuck there, and this is a wonderful opportunity. You should go, and make the most of it. Actually, come to think of it now, I hear that St. Andrew’s has one of the best libraries and teachers in the county.” She turned to him suddenly. “You will be allowed visitors, right?”

“Yes, Hermione, you can visit and use the library.” Harry sighed. She certainly had her priorities confused. The bell rang then, loudly and harshly as they were unfortunately positioned next to it. “Look, I have to talk with McGonagall after school about this again, but it’s happening, and I’d like it if you pretended you were happy for me.”

Hermione started to class, the other two falling into line with her. “I am, Harry. But I’m thinking practically. Yes, McGonagall doesn’t stand for things not going her way, but neither does your uncle. Something is going to snap here, and it won’t be pleasant.” She paused for a moment, letting the truth sink in. “And you’d better not be in reach when it happens.”

With that morbid thought, they entered their next class, where Harry spent the entirety of the period staring out the window and trying to find fault in her logic. It wasn’t happening.

-x-

“Well, Mr. Potter. Are you all ready?” Ms. McGonagall asked, pulling a pair of leather gloves over her bony fingers. She stood on the doorstep of number 4, Privet Drive, bedecked in all her tartan glory, having emerged victorious from the foul depths within the unassuming front of the house. The walrus lay inside, slew by this odd warrior.

“Yeah, wasn’t much.” Harry replied, voice still holding a slight tremor as his hands shook around the straps of his backpack. He’d taken only a few of his hand-me-downs, grabbing only the necessary of his belongs and his school books. He was still reeling from the battle between his teacher and family, but in the end, she had won, and that’s what mattered. The papers and forms for his admission into St. Andrew’s were signed and tucked securely into McGonagall’s large satchel.

Vernon had been staunch in his refusal to sign, citing that no matter the fact that it got Harry out of his house, the boy was still his responsibility. His parents had left the boy with them, and they would see to his education as they saw fit to do. She had no right barging into their home to try and take Harry away, giving him false hopes of his worth with dreams of this fancy school.

Ms. McGonagall kept to her argument though. “Harry is not just ‘the boy’! To you or anyone else in the world. He is a fine young man, with outstanding marks in school which allow him to go onto a better one to realize his full potential. If you cared about your responsibility to him, then you would take this opportunity to ‘get rid’ of him, as you would see it. Then again, I realise that you are losing, essentially, your household slave, not a beloved nephew. It would do wonders for all if you put that great lump of a son of yours to work.”

Uncle Vernon raged against this as well, “shocked and awed” at the woman’s audacity to come into his home and insult him and his family. School teachers should know better than that! He would report her to the board of governors, he would.

“Report away, you repulsive excuse for a human being” – Harry fought hard not to laugh at that one, it was too good – “I’ve already left there. It matters not one wit what you say against me now.”

Completely aghast, Vernon turned to his wife, looking for some more argument from her. Petunia just shook her head. This was one fight she wasn’t helping him with.

He turned back to McGonagall, ready to let loose with something else, when there was movement out of the corner of his beady little eye. Petunia, who should be accounted with more brains and smarts than she has previously been thought to have, had whisked the sheets of paper across the coffee table towards herself and was scrawling her name along the appropriate lines. “Petunia! What the devil do you think you’re doing?”

“Shut up, Vernon. We’re letting the boy go. She was my sister; my signature has just as much weight as yours. If…if Lily had been left with Dudley, she would have done a much better job than we have with her son. I’ve ignored way too many things in this house.” Petunia shuffled the papers together, flicking through them one last time to make sure she had gotten everything. Initialling a last line, she thrust her handful towards the school teacher, who took it and placed it directly in her bag.

“There, you have what you came for, take Harry and go. It’d be best if you didn’t bring him back here either.” She stood and went from the room, seeming to do so with grace she never actually possessed.

McGonagall gave the room at large a curt nod then gathered up Harry and his things. Thus, leaving them standing on the porch. She was at the sidewalk before she turned back to see just why it was that Harry wasn’t with her. “Come along, I thought we were doing this quickly.”

Harry startled from his replay of the battle, and followed her quickly down the steps, joining her at the curb. “Sorry, M’am.”

“Nothing to worry about, Harry, it’s just better for all if we don’t linger.” She said, stepping up to the cab she had come in.

“Yes, M’am.” Harry would be dropped off at the Weasley’s for the weekend again, and on Monday, McGonagall would fetch him and they would be off to St. Andrews. Harry had a feeling that the time would be agonizingly long, and surprisingly short.

-x-

Harry stepped out of the cab behind Ms. McGonagall and tried to keep the complete awe and sudden self-consciousness from his face. He didn’t belong in a place like this! He wondered just how lucky he was to have gotten this scholarship – and what deserving teen hadn’t. He shut the door and the cab took off, leaving Harry figuratively in the dust as he picked up his bags from the curb where the driver had left them.

Staring around him at the school and its grounds, he couldn’t help but to look ‘new’ and out of place for the moment. Fortunately, he didn’t look too out of place, his new uniform fitting him comfortably and properly. Somehow, McGonagall had managed to wrestle a quarter of Harry’s inheritance – which even he hadn’t known existed – from the Dursley’s, to pay for things like this. And if this was a mere quarter of his inheritance, then just what was it that his parent’s had done for a living, short of robbing a bank?

No, he was more out of place in manner and attitude; for all that it stood for in this school. With all the old money and blue blood running through these halls, it made sense that the teens attending acted and behaved a certain way – a way alien to Harry. His unsure, nervousness, and the tired feeling in his soul showed through. For now though, those were worries for later. Looking up at the positively castle-esque school, he felt intimidated, and terribly small. He had no place here, among the towering turrets and, yes, chapel spire. Red, Green, Gold, and Blue flags waved gently in the wind, welcoming the students to the new week ahead.

The students themselves were milling about the lawns, exchanging news from the weekend, adventures had. They were starting to drift towards the imposing building itself; classes due to begin shortly. Harry started up the drive that wasn’t much used, following greatly behind in McGonagall’s wake when he felt eyes on him, unwavering from his form. Turning, Harry cast a glance around at the students nearby, coming to a halt when he met the direct silver eyes trained on him. They belonged to the young blond man he had foolishly crashed into a little over a week ago. Four or five students were ranged about him, making him the center as they all vied for his attention, none of them getting it. Gasping in shock at the strength of the gods knew what in his eyes and that he should run into him here of all places, after that embarrassing performance, Harry wrenched his own eyes away and jog slightly to catch up to McGonagall, who was waiting by the doors to show him to the Head Master’s offices.

“What has got you all worked up all ready, Mr. Potter?” The teacher asked, holding open the heavy oak door for him to pass through.

Casting a final look backwards, he saw the blond now listening intently to a dark haired girl, who hung off his arm like she belonged there.

“Nothing, M’am.”

“Therefore, merely to keep up the propriety of the school, we have scholarships offered to particularly bright students – or to ones needing it, like yourself. Earlier this year I offered Minerva a position with the school, and she said she’d consider it, if I allowed a student of hers to enter the school as well.”

Harry glanced sideways at his stern looking teacher, realising just how much she had done for him. The head master of the school, Professor Dumbledore, as he was told to address him, was currently in the midst of a long winded explanation of how exactly he had ended up at this wonderful school. Glancing at the large clock on the mantel behind where Dumbledore sat, he noted that a good ten minutes had past since the beginning of his speech.

“Sir,” Harry interrupted while he had the chance. “Thank you for letting me have this scholarship. I’m sure there is a much more deserving student who is missing out because of this, but I appreciate the… rescue… greatly. I’ll make sure it’s not a decision you regret.”

Dumbledore put aside any more of the speech he had planned. “Very good my boy, I’m sure that this decision is not misplaced. Now, it is already well into your first class, I’ll have the secretary show you where it is. Minerva, I have a few more things to discuss with you before your class.”

Harry shuddered at the head master’s use of the word ‘boy’, but forced that fear away. It was an affectionate term here, not one that meant he had hell to pay. “Thank you, sir.” Harry said, standing to leave. He left the two to their discussion and told the secretary that Dumbledore had said she should show him to his first class. It turned out to be Science, taught by a Professor Snape. Not even his name sounded pleasant, and Harry was terrible at science at any rate, having it so early in the morning was bound to cause issues.

Knocking on the door, it opened with a jerk to reveal his new teacher, clothed in the dark robes that were the teacher’s uniforms, swirling around him in an impatient manner.

“Mr. Potter. First day and already tardy. Professor McGonagall may have allowed that at your old school, but it is unacceptable here. Get in and find a seat, I don’t conduct my lectures in the hallways.”

“Yes, Professor,” Harry responded, entering quickly into the classroom before the door could be shut on him. Casting that nervous new-kid-who-doesn’t-have-a-clue- look around the room, his eyes fell on the only empty seat in the class… right next to the blond aristocrat from before. Giving into the sigh he felt rising, he sank down onto the stool in the mid-section of the desks; a good area, no where near the front, but not too close to being all the way at the back. He started digging through his new bag for a notebook and pen.

The blond beside watched these movements, still greatly intrigued by the odd boy. “My name is Draco.” He finally said in a whisper, taking the opportunity to at last introduce himself.

Harry looked up in surprise from his bag. “Harry.” He said simply before focusing on Snape and taking notes at a frantic pace, continuing to do so for the whole period.

Draco sighed softly under his breath and tried to focus himself. He had a name. Harry Potter. It was a start.

-x-

It wasn’t until after algebra (where they sat no where near each other), and the long line at lunch that Draco was able to find his chance. Spotting the raven haired boy ahead of him in the line up and then doing that terrible glance around again of “where the hell do I sit?!” he watched as he finally gave up and sat at an empty table in the back corner. There was a tugging on his sleeve as he made sure he wouldn’t lose the boy between the end of the line and getting over there. He looked over and found one of his best friends trying to get his attention, as usual. “What is it Pansy?”

“What are you looking at so much? Miss Larue’s asked you twice if you want gravy.”

“Oh. Sorry, m’am, yes please.” Draco responded before taking the plate from her and placing it on his tray. “I wasn’t looking at anything.”

“Right.” Pansy said, drawling the word to make it sarcastic. “Whatever you say Dray. Hurry up, we’ve got to get rid of the first years sitting at our table again.”

Draco didn’t say anything, following behind her silently, then right past their usual table.

“Draco? Where are you going?” Pansy asked as the younger kids shuffled out of their way and the group could sit down. “Draco?”

“Dray?” Called the voice of his other best friend, Blaise, as Draco continued to ignore them.

The other boy turned back slightly. “I need a change of scenery today. You sit there.” He explained, while not really explaining a thing.

Pansy, Blaise, Theodore and Draco’s self appointed ‘body guards’, Crabbe and Goyle watched with awestruck expressions as their leader took himself off to the back corner, to where the new transfer scholarship student sat. Gaping like a fish out of water, Pansy wasn’t giving herself the best look at the moment, until Theo tugged on her arm and she fell onto the bench.

“I…I! Well, I never!” She asked, staring still as Draco stood over the new boy now. “What on earth does he think he’s doing?”

“Just leave him, Pans. He’ll tell us later.” Theo said, tucking into his potatoes. Draco did what he wanted, when he wanted. They wouldn’t be able to stop him, and if he’d come up with some plan for the new kid or just wanted to slum for the day, then there was nothing they would be able to do.

On the other side of the room, Draco balanced his tray delicately as he cleared his throat and looked down at his new fascination. “Ahem. Is this seat taken?”

Harry looked up in surprise at the blond, then looked around at the empty table on all sides of him. “No, I don’t think so. Sit where you like.”

Nodding, Draco set his tray down with a fluid grace. “I’m Draco Malfoy.” He restated.

Harry looked up again from the notes he had spread next to him. “So you said.”

Draco suppressed a small grin at that. This was going to be interesting. “And you are Harry Potter, the scholarship student that came along with the new Professor, McGonagall, who we just had for algebra, yes?”

Harry nodded, “Yup, you got it.” He didn’t ask how the other boy had known, he didn’t really care, though it was strange that such a seemingly popular and affluent student was trying to converse with him. No one other than Ron and Hermione had ever paid this much attention to him, and he wasn’t so sure that attention from a popular student such as this Draco would be all that positive.

“You must be quite smart to get the scholarship into here.”

A ploy to get Harry to do his homework? “Nope, McGonagall pulled some strings with the Headmaster to get me in. Said she wouldn’t teach either if I didn’t come.”

“That’s…odd. You and this McGonagall aren’t having some sort of student/teacher affair are you?” Draco asked, looking repulsed by the thought.

Harry’s fork dropped with a loud clatter. Slowly, he turned to the other teen, the aghast look covering his entire face. “The hell? Why would you say that? Who asks things like that?” Harry couldn’t quite form a good phrasing of the questions running through his head. “Bloody hell. No, that’s stupid. Affair with McGonagall. Did you see her? She’s like a million years old!”

“That’s right, Mr. Potter. The dinosaurs and I used to have many lovely teas together.” McGonagall had come up behind them at some point during the conversation, and was now fiercely staring them down.

“Sorry M’am. Malfoy here was babbling on about some nonsense.”

“So I here. 50 points from your dorm, Mr. Malfoy. And yes, I can do that to you, no matter who you are. Think first before you speak is the lesson you are learning from this.”

“Yes, M’am.” Draco replied, taking the punishment as it was. His dorms always had the most points, losing 50 wouldn’t hurt them and no one would complain since it was Draco’s fault.

McGonagall left their table, going back to supervising for the moment.

“Are you bloody insane? You’re lucky she only did that. McGonagall’s not one you should cross.”

“Neither is Snape.” Draco commented, lifting a forkful of beef to his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment.

Harry was hoping the other was done talking after this embarrassment, and returned to his science notes, trying to puzzle out what it was they were learning.

“I’ll lend you my notes for the classes if you’d like.” Draco offered.

Harry looked up at him again, his unbalanced potatoes plopping back onto his plate. Glaring at them he scooped them up again and ate them before replying. “And why would you do that? So I know what I’m doing when you ask me to do your homework later?”

“No, I do my own homework thank you very much. And its called being ‘nice’, a rare thing for me. But I like you. And I think we could be good friends.”

Harry just stared. “You are insane.”

“I’ll take that as a no to the notes then?”

Harry thought about this, he really did need them, and Draco was the only one who had been ever remotely friendly so far, even though he seemed rather odd for a rich kid. “No, I’d like to borrow them please.”

“I can give them to you after lunch then.”

“Thanks.” Harry said with a nod and turned back to his notes and lunch again.

Draco, for once, didn’t mind the silence and finished his meal, watching the other boy out of the corner of his eye all the while.

-x-

Physical Education followed English in the afternoon, the dread class of every non-jock the world over. Harry was definitely no where near to being a jock. He hated sports, their stupid rules, running, the unavoidable fumbles, the competitive streak that everyone developed for that hour, and just about everything about it. Getting all sweaty and gross, ugh, it so wasn’t worth any of it. Wondering as he changed, if he could switch out for another class or a study period, he forgot to guard himself and watch out for people around him.

As the cause of this, he spun around sharply when he heard the rough intake of breath behind him. It is Draco. ‘Figures.’ He thought. “What, Malfoy?”

“What happened to you?” Draco asked, eyes wide after seeing the bruises on Harry’s back and a couple more on his chest.

“I fell down a flight of stairs last week and they haven’t healed yet.” Harry lied cleanly, used to making up excuses like this.

“But it looks like-” Draco started.

“It looks like I fell down a flight of stairs. Right?” Harry glared at him fiercely, warning him to shut up or he’d have bruises to match Harry’s.

“Right. Got to watch those things sometimes. Tricky devils.” Draco babbled nervously, gulping in air as he turned back to putting the rest of his uniform in his locker.

Harry sighed and tugged on his shirt, reminding himself to be a little more careful in the future.

-x-

Since it was still September, the class was being held outside on the football pitch, where the teacher, Madame Hooch as she introduced herself to Harry, broke them up into pairs and set them to doing drills. To Harry’s great luck, he and Malfoy were paired together.

Draco, while not fond of sport since there was an extremely high chance that he would get his delicate self injured, was exceptionally good at many of them, football being one of the ones he’d been playing since he was in nappies. Apparently, this was not so for Potter. His kicks were weak, and hardly a challenge to the aristocrat who booted them back easily. Except that Potter always missed them and had to go jogging after it, giving Draco muttered apologies and blushing red.

“Potter! Get with it! Can’t you even stop the ball? Ugh, this is like playing with a first grader.” Draco complained loudly, causing a few students near them to look over in curiosity. Harry flushed his brightest yet.

“Sorry, I’m just not that great at football.”

“That was painfully evident!”

Angry and embarrassed now, Harry kicked the ball back at the blond, hoping he would get lucky and it would hit the uppity bastard in the face. It didn’t though, and Draco just watched as it rolled past him, six feet to the left. “Sorry, didn’t mean too.” Harry said at the same time Draco mocked him.

Seething now, Harry waited as Draco jogged towards the ball and showed off for the girls nearby, bouncing it first off his foot, then his knee a few times, back and forth before sending it Harry’s way with his head. Draco got his applause for that, while Harry stared the ball down, waiting…waiting… wham! His foot connected with the black and white ball sending it flying over Draco’s bowing form, barely missing him.

Surprised, Draco watched where it landed further down the pitch. “Not bad, Potter. Maybe you have something in you after all.”

Madame Hooch blew her whistle then and directed them in clean up, dismissing them for the day. Harry had never been so glad to have a class end.

-x-

Then again, the after part of Phys. Ed. didn’t seem to be too much better. Warned that he might as well take a shower now then fight the line ups in the dorms, Harry found himself sighing in frustration and a tinge of regret for the millionth time that day. This school was supposed to be better. But everything just kept pointing to the fact that it was completely normal other than the fact that they wore uniforms that were high end and they ate wonderfully. Yes, Harry concluded. Lunch had probably been the best part of the day. And that was with Malfoy being a stupid prat through it all as well. Resigned to his fate for the moment, Harry stepped into the separate half of the changing room where the showers were. Only to find that they were half stalls, coming up only to your waist and leaving everything above – and below, these were teenage guys, not dead old men – visible to the prying eye. Suppressing a groan, he slipped into the one farthest away as soon as it became available, chanting a mantra in his head; wet, soap, rinse, out. All he needed, and he could do it quickly.

Draco watched Harry’s inner battles play across his features briefly. Likely he wasn’t used to having to shower with other guys, let alone in short little stalls like this. Draco was used to it, sometimes preferring to shower like this instead of the usual privacy wrapped deal that they normally were. He grinned a little at that, remembering just why they could be so nice. Feeling smug, and up for a bit of mischief, he waited until the stall beside Harry’s was available, which was luckily not long, as Potter was in a race to finish his shower in as little time as humanly possible.

Looking up to wash the soap from him, Harry caught sight of Malfoy in the stall next to him Surprised, he found himself staring at the other boy. His white-blond hair was slicked back against his skull, long fingers running through it as shampoo was massaged into the strands. His mouth fell open as he stared, admiring the muscles moving smoothly under perfect, unblemished skin, the thin, compact body holding everything together. Harry was thin, but it wasn’t exactly a healthy thin, or one that looked well on him. He’d have to build himself up a bit while he was here.

Then Draco turned and brilliant silver eyes opened to see the awed green ones watching him.

“Like what you see, Potter?”

Yes.

“Therefore, merely to keep up the propriety of the school, we have scholarships offered to particularly bright students – or to ones needing it, like yourself. Earlier this year I offered Minerva a position with the school, and she said she’d consider it, if I allowed a student of hers to enter the school as well.”

Harry glanced sideways at his stern looking teacher, realising just how much she had done for him. The head master of the school, Professor Dumbledore, as he was told to address him, was currently in the midst of a long winded explanation of how exactly he had ended up at this wonderful school. Glancing at the large clock on the mantel behind where Dumbledore sat, he noted that a good ten minutes had past since the beginning of his speech.

“Sir,” Harry interrupted while he had the chance. “Thank you for letting me have this scholarship. I’m sure there is a much more deserving student who is missing out because of this, but I appreciate the… rescue… greatly. I’ll make sure it’s not a decision you regret.”

Dumbledore put aside any more of the speech he had planned. “Very good, my boy, I’m sure that this decision is not misplaced. Now, it is already well into your first class, I’ll have the secretary show you where it is, Minerva, I have a few more things to discuss with you before your class.”

Harry shuddered at the head master’s use of the word ‘boy’, but forced that fear away. It was an affectionate term here, not one that meant he had hell to pay. “Thank you, sir.” Harry said, standing to leave. He left the two to their discussion and told the secretary that Dumbledore had said she should show him to his first class. It turned out to be Science, taught by a Professor Snape. Not even his name sounded pleasant, and Harry was terrible at science at any rate, having it so early in the morning was bound to cause issues.

Knocking on the door, it opened with a jerk to reveal his new teacher, clothed in the dark robes that were the teacher’s uniforms, swirling around him in an impatient manner.

“Mr. Potter. First day and already tardy. Professor McGonagall may have allowed that at your old school, but it is unacceptable here. Get in and find a seat, I don’t conduct my lectures in the hallways.”

“Yes, Professor,” Harry responded, entering quickly into the classroom before the door could be shut on him. Casting that nervous new-kid-who-doesn’t-have-a-clue- look around the room, his eyes fell on the only empty seat in the class… right next to the blond aristocrat from before. Giving into the sigh he felt rising, he sank down onto the stool in the mid-section of the desks; a good area, no where near the front, but not too close to being all the way at the back. He started digging through his new bag for a notebook and pen.

The blond beside watched these movements, still greatly intrigued by the odd boy. “My name is Draco.” He finally said in a whisper, taking the opportunity to at last introduce himself.

Harry looked up in surprise from his bag. “Harry.” He said simply before focusing on Snape and taking notes at a frantic pace, continuing to do so for the whole period.

Draco sighed softly under his breath and tried to focus himself. He had a name. Harry Potter. It was a start.

-x-

It wasn’t until after algebra (where they sat no where near each other), and the long line at lunch that Draco was able to find his chance. Spotting the raven haired boy ahead of him in the line up and then doing that terrible glance around again of “where the hell do I sit?!” he watched as he finally gave up and sat at an empty table in the back corner. There was a tugging on his sleeve as he made sure he wouldn’t lose the boy between the end of the line and getting over there. He looked over and found one of his best friends trying to get his attention, as usual. “What is it Pansy?”

“What are you looking at so much? Miss Larue’s asked you twice if you want gravy.”

“Oh. Sorry, ma’am, yes please.” Draco responded before taking the plate from her and placing it on his tray. “I wasn’t looking at anything.”

“Right.” Pansy said, drawling the word to make it sarcastic. “Whatever you say Dray. Hurry up; we’ve got to get rid of the first years sitting at our table again.”

Draco didn’t say anything, following behind her silently, then right past their usual table.

“Draco? Where are you going?” Pansy asked as the younger kids shuffled out of their way and the group could sit down. “Draco?”

“Dray?” Called the voice of Blaise, his other best friend, as Draco continued to ignore them.

The other boy turned back slightly. “I need a change of scenery today. You sit there.” He explained, while not really explaining a thing.

Pansy, Blaise, Theodore and Draco’s self appointed ‘body guards’, Crabbe and Goyle watched with awestruck expressions as their leader took himself off to the back corner, to where the new transfer scholarship student sat. Gaping like a fish out of water, Pansy wasn’t giving herself the best look at the moment, until Theo tugged on her arm and she fell onto the bench.

“I-I! Well, I never!” She asked, staring still as Draco stood over the new boy now. “What on earth does he think he’s doing?”

“Just leave him, Pans. He’ll tell us later.” Theo said, tucking into his potatoes. Draco did what he wanted, when he wanted. They wouldn’t be able to stop him, and if he’d come up with some plan for the new kid or just wanted to slum for the day, then there was nothing they would be able to do.

On the other side of the room, Draco balanced his tray delicately as he cleared his throat and looked down at his new fascination. “Ahem. Is this seat taken?”

Harry looked up in surprise at the blond, and then looked around at the empty table on all sides of him. “No, I don’t think so. Sit where you like.”

Nodding, Draco set his tray down with a fluid grace. “I’m Draco Malfoy.” He restated.

Harry looked up again from the notes he had spread next to him. “So you said.”

Draco suppressed a small grin at that. This was going to be interesting. “And you are Harry Potter, the scholarship student that came along with the new Professor, McGonagall, who we just had for algebra, yes?”

Harry nodded, “Yup, you got it.” He didn’t ask how the other boy had known, he didn’t really care, though it was strange that such a seemingly popular and affluent student was trying to converse with him. No one other than Ron and Hermione had ever paid this much attention to him, and he wasn’t so sure that attention from a popular student such as this Draco would be all that positive.

“You must be quite smart to get the scholarship into here.”

A ploy to get Harry to do his homework? “Nope, McGonagall pulled some strings with the Headmaster to get me in. Said she wouldn’t teach if I didn’t come.”

“That’s…odd. You and this McGonagall aren’t having some sort of student/teacher affair are you?” Draco asked, looking repulsed by the thought.

Harry’s fork dropped with a loud clatter. Slowly, he turned to the other teen, an aghast look covering his entire face. “The hell? Why would you say that? Who asks things like that?” Harry couldn’t quite form a good phrasing of the questions running through his head. “Bloody hell. No, that’s stupid. Affair with McGonagall. Did you see her? She’s like a million years old!”

“That’s right, Mr. Potter. The dinosaurs and I used to have many lovely teas together.” McGonagall had come up behind them at some point during the conversation, and was now fiercely staring them down.

“Sorry Ma’am. Malfoy here was babbling on about some nonsense.”

“So I hear. 50 points from your dorm, Mr. Malfoy. And yes, I can do that to you, no matter who you are. Think first before you speak is the lesson you are learning from this.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Draco replied, taking the punishment as it was. His dorms always had the most points, losing 50 wouldn’t hurt them and no one would complain since it was Draco’s fault.

McGonagall left their table, going back to supervising for the moment.

“Are you bloody insane? You’re lucky she only did that. McGonagall’s not one you should cross.”

“Neither is Snape.” Draco commented, lifting a forkful of beef to his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment.

Harry was hoping the other was done talking after this embarrassment, and returned to his science notes, trying to puzzle out what it was they were learning.

“I’ll lend you my notes for the classes if you’d like.” Draco offered.

Harry looked up at him again, his unbalanced potatoes plopping back onto his plate. Glaring at them he scooped them up again and ate them before replying. “And why would you do that? So I know what I’m doing when you ask me to do your homework later?”

“No, I do my own homework thank you very much. Its called being ‘nice’, a rare thing for me. But I like you. And I think we could be good friends.”

Harry just stared. “You are insane.”

“I’ll take that as a no to the notes then?”

Harry thought about this, he really did need them, and Draco was the only one who had been ever remotely friendly so far, even though he seemed rather odd for a rich kid. “No, I’d like to borrow them please.”

“I can give them to you after lunch then.”

“Thanks.” Harry said with a nod and turned back to his notes and lunch again.

Draco, for once, didn’t mind the silence and finished his meal, watching the other boy out of the corner of his eye all the while.

-x-

Physical Education followed English in the afternoon, the dread class of every non-jock the world over. Harry was definitely no where near to being a jock. He hated sports, their stupid rules, running, the unavoidable fumbles, the competitive streak that everyone developed for that hour, and just about everything about it. Getting all sweaty and gross, ugh, it so wasn’t worth any of it. Wondering as he changed, if he could switch out for another class or a study period, he forgot to guard himself and watch out for people around him.

As the cause of this, he spun around sharply when he heard the rough intake of breath behind him. It was Draco. ‘Figures.’ He thought. “What, Malfoy?”

“What happened to you?” Draco asked; eyes wide after seeing the bruises on Harry’s back and a couple more on his chest.

“I fell down a flight of stairs last week and they haven’t healed yet.” Harry lied cleanly, used to making up excuses like this.

“But it looks like-” Draco started.

“It looks like I fell down a flight of stairs. Right?” Harry glared at him fiercely, warning him to shut up or he’d have bruises to match Harry’s.

“Right. Got to watch those things sometimes. Tricky devils.” Draco babbled nervously, gulping in air as he turned back to putting the rest of his school uniform in his locker.

Harry sighed and tugged on his shirt, reminding himself to be a little more careful in the future.

-x-

The rest of Harry’s first week at Hogwarts was something else. Between being awed by the size of the place, the luxury of the dorms, and the wonderful food that no one took away from him; and then confused by some of his classes, the schedule changes and just where exactly those classes took place (He would swear that the staircases moved on purpose to confuse him. If that were possible), he was feeling a mix of emotions most days.

The castle itself was amazing, huge turrets rising up from the walls that in centuries past had kept out enemies and now kept students in. There was a large court yard in the center where students gathered during breaks, exchanging notes, test answers and gossip. The front lawn was littered with the students before and after dinner, where the students would watch the last of the sunset, relax with their friends or take walks around the lake, which Harry discovered took only an hour or so to go around fully. There were a few trees growing here and there around it, but the most popular tree seemed to be the largest one, its branches stretching out over the water and sheltering the students under them.

On the inside, it was just as wonderful. The halls shone with their marbled floors and the roughened stone walls added to the feel of the castle, though they did make the hallways terribly cold in the winters. To prevent the students from getting frostbite indoors, real, authentic torches like all ancient castles had, were lit, and there were small fire places along them, covered carefully to ensure that any student’s with a ‘brilliant’ plan couldn’t get to it.

They ate all together in what was the grandest cafeteria Harry had ever seen. Though set up like a normal high school’s cafeteria, with tables that you could maybe cram eight people at, if you didn’t mind being a little squished, and a line where you got your meal, but the similarities stopped there. Like the decoration of the whole castle, this room was just as opulent. Marble floors, high cathedral-esqe ceilings, and a large fire place that crackled all day long at each end. The counter – that was the only word Harry could think of to call it – behind which they were served their meals, was stainless steel and polished glass, though it all shone so brightly he thought at first it must be made of silver. And the meals weren’t just prepared and made up some random women with some sort of food experience in the past. No, 3, maybe 4 star chefs were putting these meals together, the simplest of fare seemingly impossible to compare to any other. The roast beef, potatoes of whatever kind he desired and beans for lunch on his first day was a regular occurrence at the school. And the menu always changed, they weren’t eating the same thing week after week. That alone was enough to almost bring Harry to tears.

The dorms were something else that had nearly done him in, if he hadn’t firmly told himself repeatedly that it was real, it wasn’t going away and 16 year olds don’t cry. Four separate areas of the castle were given over to create dorms for the students who got their assignments to whichever one when they arrived. It would have been nice (and easier for the teachers) if the students were all kept in one place, but it wasn’t possible and they also thought it better if their living space was kept to smaller groups, keeping down feuds, drama, fights and anything else that could occur when 200 plus students lived together. There were challenges to bring the dorm together, get the students working together and developed a competitive streak in them, which sometimes caused rivalries to break out. They earned points for things – the correct answer in class, a superb mark on a test, a good deed done, etc. And lost them too; Bad behaviour, fighting, or being disrespectful as when McGonagall had overheard Malfoy on that first day.

In each dorm, there were five larger rooms on each side, one for the boys, and one for the girls. Inside each room were no more than 5 beds, the number of students usually in attendance for that year of school. The beds we grand four poster things, hung with heavy curtains to give you a bit of privacy and to keep the cold away at night. Going to sleep at night was heaven, as was doing it on a full stomach. Yes, he still wasn’t over that either.

Harry was making more friends in his classes too, telling himself to be more confident about it. He asked the nice looking people if he could borrow their notes, and for some help occasionally, and soon was well onto making more friends, finding similar interests with them, though they introduced him to many new things as well.

Draco continued to be rather odd, according to his own friends, making nice with the new boy and being genuinely interested in him. Pansy was having a hard time with this, but Theo and Blaise accepted his oddness fine, and had talked to the teen once or twice during science class (at which he was utterly hopeless at). They found him interesting, quiet and nice, though definitely needing to be pulled out of his shell.

After a week, Harry was generally comfortable with how things were run, yet still found the occasional thing to be quite surprising. He spent time with various groups of people, but continually found himself drawn back towards Draco and his group of friends. The richest kids in school, nearly the whole United Kingdom, had a genuine interest in him. He wasn’t any one special. Just Harry Potter, still bruised and scarred from old beatings from his uncle, missing his best friends, not that keen on fashion or his personal upkeep, or even in the know with recent world wide happenings, or even just the ones within his own society. But, he supposed they had their quirks, and he was one of them.

It took awhile, but then even Pansy warmed up to him, and in her ‘harmless’ ways, tried to introduce him to a couple of her girlfriends. He shook his head violently at the idea, his face turning an incredible red and his control over speech becoming lost, but Pansy was as persistent as Harry was shy around a pretty girl. He slowly started to relax and was able to speak full sentences to them.

Which was partly how he’d come to find himself off campus, pressed into a booth in a pub, his arm brushing the lovely Lavender each time he moved it. It was Pansy’s idea, followed by Draco’s quick approval that they head into town that Saturday, gathering up a few friends as well.

There were ten or twelve of them all together, a couple Harry didn’t know. Blaise, Theo and Draco were socialising at another table, while Pansy sat next to Lavender, talking softly and giggling loudly. Crabbe and Goyle were squished in on the bench opposite Harry, demolishing baskets of fish and chips and grunting in the way that their conversations went.

“Harry,” Pansy started saying. Harry moved awkwardly, leaning around Lavender to see her.

“Yes?”

“What are you’re plans for next Saturday?”

“Er, I don’t think I have any.” He said, looking between the both of them.

“Wonderful. Why don’t you and Lavender do something? Dinner or a movie. Maybe both?

“Like-like a date?”

“Exactly like one, right, Lav?” Pansy said, prodding her friend.

“Yeah,” Lavender said, nodding her head. “You seem really nice, and sweet.” A hand moved across the table, resting on his.

Harry looked down at their hands, blushing brightly. “Er, well, alright. I suppose that would be…good.”

“Fantastic!” Pansy exclaimed, and Lavender smiled.

“I’ll look forward to it, Harry.” She leaned over and pecked him on the cheek, sliding out of the booth after Pansy who was now hanging over another booth where Draco was and a couple other good looking guys that she probably wanted to flirt with.

Harry remained there in shock, Crabbe and Goyle sniggering into their chips at his expressions.

A date?