Chapter 1
Hermione Granger was one of those students that would theoretically be adored by teachers. But throughout primary school, never once did a teacher take a liking to her. Too much, they called her. Overwhelming. Outspoken. Above herself, know it all, haughty; phrases and words that swirled in her young mind. Eventually they sunk in. By the time Hermione was 11, she needed a fresh start. See, Hermione was confident. She knew that she was dedicated, that she was smart, that she could easily handle whatever life threw at her. What young, determined Hermione needed was a challenge.
Her parents were the worrying type, and this naturally bled into Hermione as well. When her Hogwarts letter arrived, none of them were surprised. They simply did everything they could to prepare her, and Hermione learned. She read centuries of history, thousands of spells, dozens of potions. She calmly walked through the barrier, determined to, at the very least, not make a fool of herself. At this point, Hermione sort of assumed that all the other magic folk were like her. Since, academically, she was an anomaly in the muggle world she assumed that this was a trait shared among the magical community, and here she would find her peers.
Hermione was disappointed. She sat in an empty compartment, and thought over everyone she’d seen and talked to so far. Really, from her perspective, no one else had done any prep at all. She vowed then that she would never, ever be beaten by any of them. She would figure it all out.
Harry was quiet, but he shouldn’t have been. He was kind, and smart-mouthed, and loved comics and comebacks and chocolate. The Dursleys took Harry in out of fear of Dumbledore, which is not a good way to begin a life. They ignored him as a baby, let him cry himself to sleep as a toddler, and forced a wedge between him and their son, Dudley. Harry received poor marks not because he was slow, but because he was sleep-deprived for sleeping under the stairs, sick and malnourished, and all together not cared for. Many teachers had, over the years, expressed concern for Harry. Maybe they saw the bruises and belt-marks, or maybe they just thought to look at him, for his abuse was written plain as day in his manner. But every time, Harry was just moved to a new school. Harry was beaten into telling the teachers and counsellors that everything was really alright, that he just hadn’t been feeling well recently. But Harry had never known what it was to feel well.
When Harry was brought to platform 9¾, he had experienced kindness from a stranger for the first time in many years. For not only was Harry mistreated by the Dursleys, but he was an outcast for his scars, and for his skin, in the very white neighbourhood where the Dursley’s resided. But in the magical world, Harry found that his brown skin, at least, no one cared about. Ms. Weasley helped him through the barrier, and him and her son Ron meekly stepped aboard the Hogwarts Express for the first time.
Draco Malfoy never had a childhood. He went from the crib to tailored, black suits and grammar and penmanship teachers. It should be acknowledged that his mother, Narcissa (Black)-Malfoy, wished and tried to give him a childhood. It should also be acknowledged that Narcissa did not wish to marry Lucius, and she did not want to give up her last name, Black; but in the end she did not get any of these wishes granted, despite her best efforts. She has resolved, promised herself (and Draco), that Lucius will no longer walk over her (and Draco). Draco grew up in Malfoy Manor, learning arithmetic and literature far beyond his years. He learned anything short of perfection would be brutally punished. He learned through repetition and the strike of a cane when he was wrong. Draco also happened to learn to hide his emotions, to read people for any sign of distress, and to always be polite but never be submissive. Unless, of course, to submit to Lucius.
When Draco Malfoy was to begin at Hogwarts, it was with all the ways he would conduct himself running through his mind and with his hair slicked back and his robes perfectly tailored, which he thought was ridiculous since he was sure to grow. He thought having any of his clothes tailored was ridiculous, since they just re-tailored them in a few months' time. But, of course, Draco knew well to never question Lucius. He crossed the ticket barrier with impeccable posture and his fathers hand digging into his shoulder. His mothers reassuring fingers brushed his hand when Lucius wasn’t looking. Lucius rather didn’t believe in comfort. Draco boarded the train after hugging his parents, his father as a formality, his mother out of desperation. He opened the first compartment door he saw and entered with confidence to cover exhaustion.
Hermione was settling into her book when the compartment door opened, and a young platinum blonde boy stepped in. He didn’t ask if the seat was saved or if it was ok that he joined her, he just plopped down and stuck out his hand. Hermione had a certain amount of respect for him already. “Hello. My name’s Draco Malfoy, what family are you from?” He asked, like he had recited it a thousand times and still didn’t know quite what he was saying. “I’m Hermione Granger.” Was her clipped response. She’d read about the Malfoys. The whole so-called Sacred Twenty-eight, in fact, she had memorised. There’s radicals in every family, though, and she wasn’t about to make enemies from assumptions based on blood. Wasn’t that what she was trying to avoid?
“Granger? Like the potion-maker?” Draco asked, eyes lighting up. “Nope. Granger like Granger dental offices.” She replied, staring him in the eyes. “Oh. What’s a dental office?” He mumbled, his curiosity hidden quite well, and it came across as disdain. Hermione sighed. The door slid open again, and a boy with shaggy unbrushed black hair and taped together glasses stuck his head in. “Are you talking about DENTISTS? Why? Do wizards have dentists?” He grumbled, and sat down next to her. A freckled, red haired boy followed him in and sat next to Draco. “Can we sit here?” The red-haired boy asked, already sat. Hermione nodded, not caring much what Draco said.
“Are you.. Ron?” Draco asked the fire haired boy sitting next to him, tilting his head slightly in inquiry. He sighed loudly, and nodded. “Yeah.” He mumbled, looking remarkably forlorn for an eleven year old. “I don’t want to be right now though” He grumbled, looking derisively at Draco. Hermione and the messy haired boy next to her both snorted. Meanwhile Draco looked thoughtful, but scooted away from Ron and rested his head against the window. “Well, why don’t you want to be Ron?” Hermione asked, her eyebrows drawn furtively together. She had never been good at reading people.
Hermione had been judged and even hated, but she embraced it. She knew she was loud and bold and sometimes rude, but she liked it that way. She cared about meeting people’s expectations, but only when she found them reasonable. She didn’t mind calling people out. So Ron telling her he didn’t want to be himself was a mystery to someone who had only ever wanted to be themself.
“Well, I’ve got a big family-“ Ron began, interrupted by a ‘clearly’ snort from Draco. Ron winced and said “that snort’s part of the reason,” at the same time as the unnamed boy said “shut up,” pushing his hair up to give Draco a dirty look. All of them froze, looking at the black haired boy. Who had pushed his mess of hair out of his face, showing a jagged white lighting scar sprawling across his cinnamon-brown skin.
The books about him described Harry Potter’s lightning scar as one cartoonish lighting bolt on his forehead, when in reality white lightening rippled across his face, down his temples and spreading over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. The main scar- or, where the scar seemed to stem from, was on his forehead; but threads of lighting wound across nearly his whole face. His eyebrows were slitted in a few places, and even his lips had a white streak across them. The cute round glasses on his face were a near comical contrast to the twisted scars.
“You’re Harry Potter,” Hermione burst out, warm brown eyes wide. Harry looked mildly uncomfortable. “Uh- yeah.” He quickly said, then let his hair obscure his face again. “Wait, Harry, could I fix your glasses?” She gasped, delighted not even to meet Harry Potter but to use a functional spell. He pushed his hair back again and said reverently “you can do that?” She nodded, confused. “Oculus repairo.” And they snapped back together. Harry gave her a look of pure awe, and put them back on. “Anyway, Ron, you were saying?” Harry lightly said, trying to clear the attention off of him.
Somehow, it worked. “Er- right, well, I’ve got a big family, and I’m the youngest. Cept my little sister Ginny, but I’m the youngest boy anyway, and second youngest is worse than youngest-“ this time, Harry interrupted. “Why’s that?” He asked, jealousy in his voice, though Hermione couldn’t guess why. “Well because it’s like middle-child-syndrome, yeah? The youngest gets spoiled and she’s the only girl so she’s, like, double special.” Ron answered, with a long suffering sigh.
Harry perked up a bit, and nodded. “Yeah, like my cousin. I mean, I’m thankful that they took me in after my parents- well, you know, but I don’t exactly fit in with them..” He sort of trailed off, fidgeting with his newly-fixed glasses. Confused, Draco asks “But why wouldn’t you get stuff? You’re Harry Potter, surely you’ve got money from your dad’s side at least, right? And plenty of people wanting to spoil you?” Harry shrinks back on himself even more, and mumbles “well, to be honest, I didn’t even know I was a wizard until a few weeks ago-“ “WHAT?” Draco and Ron cry out in unison. “Not know you’re a wizard?” “But you’re like, a wizard pioneer!” “Your father was a well known pureblood!” “Your grandpa like, invented magic hair care!” With each comment, Harry shrinks back farther into the corner. “Both of you, shut up.” Hermione snaps, tsk-tsking at them. They shut up.
While Hermione was poor at reading people, she was fantastic at analysing situations. “Harry was probably raised muggle to avoid pressure, and to have a normal childhood. Also to protect him from potential post-war loyalties to.. Him.” Hermione snaps. Ron shifts uncomfortably, leaning away from Draco like he might lash out. Draco just sighs.
The silence stretches for a few seconds, and Harry uncomfortably hugs his knees to his chest.
The compartment door crashes open, revealing two identical grinning red haired boys. “Well, Fred, don’t think I’ve ever seen a compartment of first years looking this.. what’s the word?” “Well, George, I think they look right sombre,” says the one who, presumably, is named Fred.
“Ronnie, introduce us to your new depressed friends!” Cried George, with Fred nodding enthusiastically. Ron shifted a bit, prompting Fred to say “Right well, I’m Fred, he’s George,” Fred jerked a thumb at his brother, “and we’re Ronnie’s older brothers!” They beamed.
“Er- well, that’s Hermione, Draco, and Harry,” Ron mumbled, slouching down. “Just lovely to meet you, Hermione, Draco, and- HARRY POTTER?” George shouted, eyes bulging comically. “And.. Draco Malfoy?” Fred questions, with an eyebrow quirked.
Harry and Draco both meekly nod. Ron mouths an obvious ‘I’m sorry,’ then shoves his brothers out and shuts the door. Muffled proclamations, shouts, questions, and other such verbal assaults about Harry come through the door. Hermione points her wand at the door and softly utters “colloportus,” causing the door to lock.
Another uncomfortable silence, save the people outside.
“I'm really sorry about that,” Ron says, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Harry just shrugs, looking tense as a frightened cat. Draco just seems mildly annoyed and says “honestly I sort of liked them, besides that bit at the end..” he trails off. “It’s not your fault, Ron,” Hermione says, and Harry and Draco both nod.
“Well- we should probably get changed,” Draco hurriedly says, and they all glance at the still-locked door. Their inanimate saviour against the raucous crowd outside. “If we all stay in here and face the walls and promise not to look-” Harry starts, cut off by adamant agreement by the other three.
“I’m sorry,” Harry says after they’re all sitting in their new, or hand-me-down, robes. “What’re you sorry for?” Draco asks, furrowing his eyebrows as if trying to puzzle what Harry means. “You know- the people outside. It’s my fault they’re all there.” Harry says bluntly, again hugging his knees to his chest. “Whadda mean, it’s not your fault,” Ron replied. Harry shrugged.
“Anyway, what were we talking about before?” Hermione mumbled, desperate to avoid another silence. “Wasn’t it about Ron’s family?” Harry supplies. Draco perks up and nods, saying “yeah- about- about why you didn’t want to be Ron,” Draco finished with considerably less enthusiasm. Ron gestured helplessly to the door, and said “you see my family. Well, the twins aren’t actually the problem. It’s Bill and Charlie and Percy, they’re all prefects and have loads of OWLs and stuff. And the twins, they’re well liked and actually quite smart, just don’t put their minds to school much. But they all have something. I’m just the youngest boy.”
“Well, you haven’t really had time to have a thing, we haven’t even got to Hogwarts yet,” Harry said reasonably. Ron shook his head like Harry didn’t get it. “It’s quite simple, if you want to stand out,” Draco said, something defiant in his eyes. “I’d like to stand out too, frankly. I love my parents, but I’m not sure I want to.. you know, be them.” Draco said, looking like he’d have to fight someone after making that vaguely rebellious statement. Which, given his life, is fair.
“Whaddya mean, it’s easy to stand out?” Ron hastily asked, filled with hope so fragile it’s no wonder it burst with Draco’s next words. “Just be in a different House. Your lot’s all Gryffindors, yeah? Be a Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff.” He said easily. Ron was adamantly shaking his head before Draco even finished. “No, no I couldn’t ever. If I’m not a Gryffindor.. that’s not the kind of stand out I’d like to be. Plus- what if I get Slytherin.” Ron puffed out, looking downright terrified. “No offence, Draco,” Ron mumbled, realising what he’d said.
Harry spoke for the first time in a while, asking softly “what’s wrong with Slytherin?” The other boys looked at each other, and then simultaneously glanced at Hermione to explain. She had pulled out a novel thicker than Harry’s uncle Dursley, and was scribbling in the already-crowded margin. She looked up at the sudden silence, and saw all of them staring at her. “What?” She grumbled, the sort to be very annoyed at reading interruptions.
“What’s wrong with Slytherin?” Harry asked timidly, but directly to her this time. “Nothing’s wrong with it. It’s just got a few rather negative.. connotations. And some bad people have come out of that house, more than any of the other houses.” Hermione said hurriedly, turning back to her book. “What kind of bad people? Who?” Harry asked the other two, rather scared of disturbing someone reading a book that long for pleasure. Dudley got bored reading the directions to a video game, instead opting to pay-to-win. In fact, he was rather scared of asking questions at all, but it seemed to be ok. Still, he resolved to stop before he went too far. “Well I mean, surely you know him.” Ron mumbled, and Harry tilted his head in confusion. “Him? You mean Volde-” “DON'T SAY IT” Ron cut Harry off, fear in his widened blue eyes. Harry imperceptibly flinched at the shout, and there was fear on Draco’s face. Harry whispered “Oh. Right, I forgot.” “You- you don’t fear him? Of course you don't, actually,” Ron trailed off, seemingly talking to himself by the end. Harry shook his head, mumbling “no, I think I would fear him, only I didn’t even know he existed until a few days ago when I met Hagrid. I didn’t know the magical world even existed. They told me my parents died in a car crash-” Harry is cut off by an adamant Hermione. “A car crash?” She cried, indignancy radiating from her. Harry and Draco slightly flinched again at the intense pitch of her voice. Ron and Hermione didn’t notice, although Harry and Draco shared an unacknowledged look.
“I agree it’s a bit of an outrage, but why are you so upset about it?” Ron asked. “Well, I’ve been researching the magical world, and from everything I’ve read Harry’s parents were wonderful at magic. It just seems to not quite do them justice,” Hermione clarified with anger still simmering in a palpable aura around her. “Plus- keeping it from Harry seems wrong.” She snapped, turning another page.
They all glanced at each other. “So, Harry, what house do you think you’ll want?” Draco asked. “Er- well, I don’t know much about any of the houses. Just the slogans, or whatever. My parents were Gryffindors, I think, so that’d be cool.” Harry says, timid and quick to answer. “What about you guys? Ron, your family’s gryffindors too, right?” Harry blurted, uncomfortable with the attention on him.
Ron nodded, “yeah, I need to be Gryffindor. Honestly, I don’t think I’m much suited to it. Sort of a shame everyone else seemed to be,” he mumbled. Hermione had stopped reading at some point, and spoke up with the confidence of something well researched. “It makes sense that families often all end up in the same house. They’re raised with the same values, and the kids believe those things. So they all go in the house with those values, you know? Houses are really more based on who you want to be or are trying to be than who you are now.” She finished, leaving Draco and Ron looking rather stricken. Hermione cocked her head, for she had thought that this was something every first year thought about.
“Well- I want to be brave, and chivalrous, and courageous,” Ron said, but then continued to say “but you know, being smart-” he was abruptly cut off by Hermione, who snapped “Ravenclaw isn’t just about being smart, you know. It’s about wit and creativity, not about academics. Intellect is highly valued, but academic success is not a requirement or even the expectation from housemates,” she spit out, like a self-written rhetoric. Draco nodded in vigorous agreement, and Harry looked interested.
Ron, however, appeared put-out. “If I’m not in Gryffindor, I’d have to- to make up for it by being a genius or something. Bill’s already a genius on his OWLs though,” he lamented. “The twins would never let me live it down if I was a Hufflepuff, even though it sounds nice to me” Ron muttered. “Honestly, Ron, your family seems nice overall. I’m sure they’d come round and if you want to be a Hufflepuff, go for it.” Draco scrambled to say, pent up aggression behind his words. “What’re you in a fuss about?” Hermione arched an eyebrow at him, and Harry snickered at her expression, the first sound he’d made in a while. This caused Ron to giggle as well, though they both fell silent when Hermione turned to them. She turned back to Draco, who was biting his lip in nervousness. “Well, it's just that I'm sure Ron’s family would come around, even if they did tease, but I don’t think I have any sort of.. leeway, I guess,” he trailed off.
“And you want something besides Slytherin?” Ron said through a snort. Draco turned away and looked out the window, although they all saw the fine mist of tears in his blue-grey eyes and the flush in his pale cheeks. Harry sat up straighter and turned to Ron, ready to spit out a vile demand for an apology on Drao’s behalf, but Draco spoke in a trembling voice. “It- It’s really not his fault. Of course-” he paused to wipe the tears that had started to run down his face “-of course he thinks that’s all I want. Please don’t tell anyone about this-” he paused again to take a trembling breath, and continued “I really don't want anyone to find out about, well, really anything I’ve said on the ride, or that I, you know,” he gestured to the continuously flowing tears. “I’ll end up in Slytherin like a good little Malfoy, so it doesn’t matter anyway.” He stopped, and turned to glare at them all, daring a reply from any of them. The only noises for a while were the engine of the train and Draco’s shaky breathing, as he continued to silently cry.
After a considerable number of minutes, when Draco had stopped crying and was now resolutely staring out the window, Ron spoke softly. “I’m really sorry, Draco. I only- I just assumed you’d be happy with your family, just because you’re rich and your family is, er, respected-” He was cut off by Draco snorting. Ron awkwardly continued. “Well, everyone in the magical world knows your name. Your surname, that is. Even if they won't all like your family, no one will scorn you or think they’re above you. I want that, I want to be known and, well, revered.” Ron finished. Harry then spoke, startling the other three, for he had not spoken in quite a while. “I think that Draco does too. He wants to be known, but not for his last name, I think.” Harry gently looked at Draco, who nodded. Harry was rather fantastic at reading people, although he rarely spoke enough to demonstrate it.
At some indefinable point, Hermione had started reading again, although she was clearly listening. Harry mumbled “I just want something.” Hermione looked up, and said brazenly “Well, I think having everything would be quite amazing.” They all laughed, and were still giggling as Hogwarts came into view. In unison, the four turned to stare in awe at the fantastical castle.