693Chapter 5: Consequences
The first meal was over quickly for everyone else but Draco. Ron and Harry were plowing through their food, Granger and Percy Weasley were discussing the upcoming lessons, and he, Draco Malfoy, was hiding. He spent all of that first meal with the Gryffindor House with his head down, just listening to them all talk and trying not to interfere. Not that he minded any, it gave him more time to absorb his own emotions. Despite being twenty - sort of - he was still terrified of disappointing his father, not to mention Severus. He hadn't dared look up at the High Table once in fear of the man's reaction. He knew, of course, that the man was Dumbledore's through and through, but it didn't mean he would be pleased with Draco's sorting. Severus might be on the side of the Light, but he was still a Slytherin.
After the meal, the First Years were lead to their dormitory - Draco couldn't decide if he liked the cozy tower of the peaceful dungeon over the lake - where all the boys collapsed almost instantly into sleep. In the morning, classes went better than expected and his relations with his housemates drastically improved. Among all the First Years, Draco had a singular skill: He knew how to navigate Hogwarts without getting lost. It made him invaluable to the rest of his class and the other students quickly forgave any rumors about his family once they realized they wouldn't be late again as long as he was around. Draco certainly didn't mind. Being the center of a large group of Gryffindors all the time kept the Slytherins from trying to hex him between classes.
Thanks to his advanced wizarding knowledge, Draco didn't even have to pay attention during said classes. Instead he spent the time doodling on parchment, imagining all the different ways he could change the past with his change of House, and wondering why he was still set on protecting Harry. The werewolf's need to be with and protect its mate was gone, there was nothing sexual between them, and yet the thought of those green eyes, sightless and staring, was worse than the memory of his own death. He had to discover who had betrayed them and, more importantly, why. No matter if Harry would never be his mate again, he had to keep the boy safe.
At the moment, it was impossible to meet either goal since he was merely an eleven year old boy. Instead, Draco spent most of his time talking with his new friends between and after classes, building on a relationship he hoped would help his mission in the years to come. To his surprise, he was inducted into the golden trio without any fuss. Ron took it upon himself to teach Harry and Draco wizard's chess while Hermione found him to be an engaging study partner since, unlike the two other boys, he could tolerate her presence (a fact that left him wondering after his own sanity).
Not everyone in the House took a shine to Draco, however. Longbottom was still afraid of him, but the Weasley twins, Fred and George, had decided he was a perfect target for their pranks. After his second quill went up in flames, Draco knew he had to retaliate or the twins would never stop. So, on the fourth day after Defense Against the Dark Arts, the blonde sat in the Gryffindor common room and watched Fred and George with his soon-to-be trademark smirk. The two knew something was up, but were unable to tell just what it was. After the fourth time they had cast a detect magic spell on their school things and found nothing, the twins gave up.
Maybe they wanted to work on their homework - yeah right - or maybe they wanted to write up some new plan with Lee Jordan, but eventually Fred (or George) reached for his quill and the second the boy's hand touched the feather, it started to multiply. Quill after quill spilled were conjured so fast that in seconds the pile was three feet high. Cries filled the room, both of surprise, horror, and laughter, but the multiplying charm didn't stop there. Only once the entire couch Fred, George, and Lee sat on was covered with quills did the spell fizzle out.
Silence filled the room as the quills stopped popping into existence and Draco got to his feet. Wide eyed, one of the twins murmured, "Brilliant," before the other fixed his gaze on the first year.
"This your doing, Malfoy?" he demanded and Draco merely snatched three quills from the top of the pile.
"No idea what you're talking about. I think, however, that these belong to me." The statement was met with a roar of laughter and George (or Fred) freed his arm to offer Draco his hand. Hesitantly, the blonde took it and asked, "Truce?"
"You're not as much of a git as we thought. That was bloody brilliant. "
Draco couldn't help but smile.
The next day at breakfast, Draco's good mood vanished when his father expressed his displeasure in his sorting. The whole school heard it, actually. As Hedwig landed and affectionately nipped Harry's ear while dropping off a note, a large eagle owl landed in front of Draco's plate and dropped off a bright red letter before soaring off again.
"Oh, blimey," he heard Ron whisper, "Malfoy's got a Howler."
Instantly the whispers went all up and down the table and every eye fixed on the blonde. Unable to do open it, he just stared at the letter as everyone else stared at him. Finally Neville broke the silence, urging him quietly to open it. "It'll be worse if you wait," he promised as the Howler began to smoke. Draco almost made a run for it. At the thought, he growled quietly and straightened. The regal posture was like a shield; he was Malfoy, no matter what humiliation his father was about to heap upon him. He would not run away like a coward.
Wordlessly, he tore open the letter. "Draco, you are a disgrace to the Malfoy name," Lucius' voice thundered through the Great Hall and, to his surprise, that was it. The Howler burst into flames and fluttered to the table as ashes. Silence filled the hall and Draco knew everyone was staring at him. It was impossible to keep the humiliation from showing on his face as his ears and cheeks turned a bright pink.
Into the silence, Harry was the one to speak. "What exactly did you do?"
Draco's grey eyes fixed on the Boy Savior, his mouth opening and closing upon his explanation. What was he supposed to say? He was sorted into Gryffindor? He'd chosen to be friends with the boy who killed Voldemort? It was both of those things, but how could he tell his friend that? Harry would blame himself.
"I read that pureblood families put a lot of emphasis on tradition," Hermione came to his rescue. "The Malfoy family has been in Slytherin for generations, I'll bet, and now Draco is in Gryffindor. His father probably thinks it's a break of tradition."
"Well, it is," Ron blurted, but quickly rushed to correct his mistake as the Hall began to buzz once more, "I mean, that's not a bad thing. It's much better that you're in our house than Slytherin. Who would Harry 'n' me play chess with, yeah?"
"And who would I study with? Really, Draco, you're better off with us. We're your friends and your father will accept that." Granger hesitated, exposing her attempt to reassure him without really knowing what she was talking about. "In time, I mean, I'm sure he will."
"Thanks," Draco murmured and felt a hand on his shoulder.
Harry smiled at him, boyish and full of confidence, and Draco knew he would never forget this moment. "We're still your friends, no matter what your father says. Why don't you come with me to Hagrid's after Potions?"
Still, he almost said no. Ron was supposed to go after all, but the redhead quickly piped up, "I want to go to, that alright?"
"Sure," Harry nodded and jotted down a note on a piece of parchment before handing it back to Hedwig. "It'll be grand."
Draco chose not to point out that both boys had left out Hermione again.
Potions went surprisingly smoothly, considering Draco had been dreading seeing Severus for the entire week. Sitting between Ron and Granger, Potter on Weasley's other side, he drew little attention. Like the first time he sat here, Snape went after Harry with a viciousness only long held hatred could bring out in a man. At his side, Hermione lost her mind trying to answer questions not even posed to her, but he kept his hand down even though he knew the answers as well. This was about old rivalries, not about knowledge. Snape just wanted to prove Potter wasn't what everyone but the boy himself thought he was.
The class continued to proceed as expected. They took notes and then divided up to practice making a potion to cure boils. Then Neville blew up his cauldron and Snape lost it, not on Harry, but on Draco. "Mister Malfoy!" the Professor snapped, "Why didn't you stop him from adding the quills too soon? Thought it would make you look good? You will stay after class."
"That's not-" Potter started before Ron kicked him to shut him up.
"Not what, Mister Potter? Fair?" Severus glowered. "Your classmate is currently in agony as boils erupt all over his body. I fail to see how that is fair when you or Mister Malfoy could have put a stop to it. Another point from Gryffindor."
If Snape had not chosen then to dismiss the class, he likely would have had a mutiny on hand from half of the room. The other half, however, took gleeful pleasure in the scolding and was smirking at both him and Harry. If he hadn't been among them the first time around, Draco would have hated them. As it was, he realized they would have their first chance to catch him alone and, more importantly, they would realize that too. Crabbe and Goyle were already wearing the viciously pleased look they got before committing some act of violence. Draco's stomach plummeted to his feet. How could Snape do this to him?
"We'll wait for you in the hall," Harry promised and Draco felt himself flush. He wasn't an eleven year old boy who needed rescuing by the Boy Who Lived. He was a wizard and if he couldn't defeat some sniveling children in a duel, he deserved whatever they threw at him.
Shaking his head, he kept cleaning up the potions area he shared with Hermione. "Hagrid's. I'll be fine, Harry. It's just Snape. The worst he can do is give me detention for the year."
"You sure?" Ron asked and Draco nodded mutely. Reluctantly, both boys filed from the room with Granger right behind them. She cast him a single, worried look before darting away.
Once the classroom cleared, Severus rounded on him. "What in the name of Merlin's beard do you think you're doing?" he demanded, pointing an imperious finger at Draco. "Gryffindor?! Honestly, Malfoy, could you be any stupider? You're belong in Slytherin. Come to your senses. I'm sure I can get the Headmaster to sort you properly if you ask for it."
"No, sir, I'm a Gryffindor," Draco replied stiffly, "and I don't care how mad you or my father is, I...I'm happy there. I have friends; real friends."
"Potter is not your friend," Snape snapped. "He's a bully and a brat; you're nothing to him. Watch; he'll drop you like a rock once he's bored."
Draco's eyes widened, then he once more straightened. Chin held high, he slammed the last of his books into his bag and snapped, "Thank you, Professor, for telling me how much you think I'm worth. Now if that's all, I would like to catch up with my friends."
Frowning, the Potions Master seemed at a lost for words for the first time Draco could remember. With a careless wave of his hand, he dismissed the blonde and vanished into his own office. Draco was uncertain if he was grateful, or unhappy that the confrontation had been so short lived.
Snatching up his things, he darted for the classroom door, completely forgetting about the Slytherins waiting for him. It was only his rushed exit from the classroom that kept Crabbe from getting a good hold on him. Catching fistfuls of Draco's robes instead of his body , he jerked the blonde to a stop just as Draco spotted the rest of his former friends. Goyle, Pansy, and Zabini all grinned maliciously at him from their positions against the wall, wands out and pointed right at his chest.
Immediately he grasped the situation. Crabbe was supposed to have grabbed him and held him while the other three hexed the blazes out of him. Unfortunately, the boy had snagged only his robe and Draco dropped gracelessly to the ground to avoid three jinxes cast in harmony. Without even getting up, the blonde's wand appeared in his hand.
"Protego!" he shouted, getting his shield between himself and the next round of curses. Crabbe kept trying to haul him to his feet to give his friends a better shot, but couldn't get closer to really be effective with all the hexes flying around. Holding his shield charm in place was harder than Draco expected. Without the solid core of magic he had built up over the years, the shield quickly started to fade under the assault of spells. It was long enough, however. As the protection charm failed him, he cast his third hex and watched as Pansy fell to the ground in a full body bind.
"What did you do?!" Crabbe shouted in shock as he stared at his friends. Next to Pansy, Zabini stood petrified, still ready to throw another curse while Goyle had been punched so hard by his Affligo jinx he was unconscious. It was technically a Dark spell, but Draco had never had any illusions about being Light.
Scrambling to his feet, Draco didn't reply to the shout, just pointed his wand at the boy and slowly backed away. He didn't care what kind of story they concocted, he knew it wouldn't be the truth. Not one of the Slytherins would want to admit that they had lost four to one in an ambush against a Gryffindor. Of course, it would also mean they would want revenge even more than before. They would go out of their way to get it, just like he had done to Harry.
Reaching the corner of the corridor, Draco Malfoy turned and ran.