Harry woke up on Friday of the first week of school to find himself drenched in sweat. It was a good kind of sweat though. He smiled and yawned. Ginny's dreamland duelling training kicked ass. Her pendant had been a one of a kind, once in a lifetime find, and snatching it when he did had been a master stroke. He wouldn't get to see her every night, but he looked forward to when he did.
He swung his legs off the bed, slipped on his slippers, and padded over to the bathroom. A few minutes of rinsing off later, he brushed up, left the bathroom, and slipped on his workout clothes.
On the other side of the room, Malfoy snorted in his sleep and turned over.
He wasn't so sure about Malfoy at the moment. The young Heir had such potential for his cause, but it lay hidden under a quarter inch layer of pretension, pomposity, and solid damn presumption.
From the moment Snape gave his "Fuck Harry Potter" speech at the beginning of term, Malfoy's attitude took an immediate and total 180 degree turn from the cautiously accepting attitude Harry had painstakingly cultivated. He'd expected this, but it didn't make it any less annoying.
He'd cornered the young heir the following day on his way back from a bathroom.
"Heir Malfoy," he'd said.
Malfoy had sneered at him. "What is it, Potter? You think I want anything to do with a dirty half-blood, blood-traitor like you?"
Unlike Malfoy's sneer, he'd kept his face friendly and neutral. "Heir Malfoy, I understand that at the moment you are choosing to follow the majority of our house in ostracising me-"
Malfoy had scoffed.
"-However," he'd continued, "I want you to know that there may well come a time when it is politically intelligent to consider an alternative path, and when that time comes you may look upon our time now as a missed opportunity."
Malfoy's eyes had narrowed. "What makes you think that such a time will ever come?"
He'd grinned, held out his hand, palm up, and produced a small ball of hovering, flickering flame, without word or wand.
Malfoy's eyes had widened, shooting from his face to the micro fireball and back.
He'd held it there for a second more. "Just a suspicion, Heir Malfoy." He'd then bowed, turned, waved the fire away, and walked off, leaving a hopefully more uncertain and slightly more cautious Malfoy behind him.
The young heir's behaviour over the next few days suggested he had, in fact, made a slight impression. The open verbal attacks from Malfoy slowed, and only happened when the young heir joined in with someone else.
Harry finished pulling on his trainers, and, with one last glance at the Malfoy heir, left the Slytherin first years dorms.
...
After exercising, showering properly, changing, and strolling down to breakfast, Harry sat in the middle of the Slytherin table and ploughed through a large stack of eggs, bacon, potatoes, and assorted vegetables. He finished off his pile of organic fuel and muscle building material with a bowl of mixed oats, fruit, nuts and seeds - something he'd never seen at breakfast before, but which tasted quite nice.
All around him, empty chairs loudly proclaimed his status as an outsider, neither wanted nor needed. The people nearest him occasionally shot dirty looks and glares, to which he smiled back and waved.
At the end of the Slytherin table, nearest the head table, Malfoy held court, surrounded by his small clique of Dark first years.
At the other end of the table, Daphne presided over the collection of students that made up the Gray, Hermione on her right, Tracey on her left. Flint also seemed to be back in fold, sitting five seats away from the end, as were a few other older students of note who he'd singled out the other night.
Suddenly, a flurry of post owls descended on the four tables. One snowy owl immediately caught his attention. Hedwig flew over his head and deposited a thick envelope in front of Hermione. He glanced over to the Gryffindor table and struggled to keep a smirk off his face. The look of hurt and betrayal on John's face, staring at the beautiful bird now being fussed over by Hermione, was as delicious as the breakfast he'd just eaten and even more satisfying.
Harry turned away from the table of the brave and regarded Hedwig and her package again. Hermione didn't normally receive post in the morning. She tended to get mail from her parents in the evening, so what was this about?
He watched Hermione slice open the envelope with a breakfast knife, pull out the package and start to read. Hermione whispered something to Daphne who leaned over and started reading too. Then Hermione let out a muffled squeal and started to whisper furiously with a huge grin on her face.
Daphne whispered back and pointed at something else in the letter.
Hermione's eyes raked back to the parchment. Her face fell, quickly replaced by anger. She flashed a glare behind him towards the head table, before folding the parchment, standing up, and stalking out of the great hall.
Huh. What was that about?
....
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