Four's A Company

Draco woke up before dawn the next day, wondering why he felt so miserable. When he opened his eyes and they were bombarded with scarlet, he remembered. He had been sorted into Gryffindor. He had been sorted into Gryffindor! The house designated for mudbloods, muggle lovers, and witches and wizards with not enough brains to be sorted into Ravenclaw and not enough ambition to be sorted into Slytherin and too much stupid, blind courage to be in Hufflepuff. In other words, the Sorting Hat designated him as one of the above people. Fortunately, Draco thought to himself, anything could be corrected with enough money or power. The Malfoy family had both.

He got up, pushed the scarlet drapes of his four-poster bed back, took a quick look around the room at the other five four-posters to make sure their occupants were asleep, pulled a quill and a piece of parchment out of his trunk, and sat down to write a letter to his father.

Three hours and about twenty pieces of parchment later, when the sun was just starting to show it's face, he sat back, and read what he hoped would be his final copy.

Father,

It's quite obvious that you will be surprised to hear from me this early in the term, but I'm afraid I have already been thrown head-first into a bit of an unfortunate circumstance. It involves the house I was sorted into.

I know you will find this hard to believe, but the damned hat sorted me into Gryffindor. Gryffindor! Yes, I know this disgraces the family, etc. and I know that you are most likely extremely disappointed in me. I was hoping, naturally, to have a transfer into my proper house, Slytherin. Since I'm not quite sure how to obtain a transfer, I was wondering if you could handle it for me.

Please act on this as soon as possible. I'm not sure how much more red I can stand.

Sincerely,

Draco

Yes, that looked alright. His father most likely wouldn't kill him after reading that. Draco folded up the letter, addressed it to his father, sealed it with a bit of wax, and placed it on his bed table. Next, he got dressed and, being sure to take his letter with him, went down to the common room to wait for an older student to go to breakfast. His father had given him the advice to tag along behind an older schoolmate until he learned how to get to the Great Hall himself (after all, a Malfoy couldn't possibly allow himself to get lost), and he assumed this still applied.

Draco waited, and waited, and waited. In fact, he waited so long that he had almost dropped off to sleep when he finally heard voices coming down the stairs from the boys' dormitories.

"So, whatcha think? Dung bombs in the Great Hall or screaming yo-yos in the girls' toilets first?"

"Screaming yo-yos. Definitely."

Draco groaned. Weasleys. It had to be Weasleys. And not just any Weasleys. Oh, no. It just had to be Fred and George Weasley. Draco prepared himself to be pranked from one side of the school to the other. The Weasley twins' reputation was famous among the school governors.

When they got to the bottom of the stairs, Fred, or was it George, stopped dead in his tracks, nudged his twin in the ribs, and pointed directly at Draco. What, Draco thought to himself, do they think I can't see them or something? Oh, no. They're coming over. Quick, think of something! Since he couldn't think of a single thing to say, he plastered a sneer on his face and waited.

"Hey, Malfoy. What are you doing up so early? Wait, I know. You've decided you are too good to sleep in the dormitory with us common folk, so you slept all night on the couch. Tisk, tisk. What will Father say?" one of the twins asked sarcastically.

Draco stiffened. "He'll probably congratulate me on successfully staying away from filth like you for a whole night," he drawled. "So, tell me, why are you up so early? Off to work in the kitchens to earn your tuition for the year, are you?" So it was a terrible come-back. As long as he got under their skin and they went to the Great Hall. . .Drat, he'd just succeeded in rousing that famous Weasley temper of theirs. One of the boys made a move to grab him, but the other held him back, muttered something about it not being "worth it," and the two walked out of the portrait hole.

Draco waited for a few moments, to ensure that the twins wouldn't see him following them, and then got up and snuck out of the portrait hole to follow them. Unfortunately, he tripped coming out and fell to the stone floor with a rather loud thump. When he had gotten up and dusted himself off, the twins were nowhere to be found. Cursing, he turned around to go back in, and was met with an empty picture frame. Perfect. Just perfect.

Draco now realized he had two choices. He could either wait here for someone else to come out and risk it being a first year, Harry Potter, a Weasley, or a mudblood, or he could try to find the Great Hall on his own. He chose the latter option.

Draco later kicked himself very hard for that choice. He realized that he had absolutely no idea which direction to take, seeing as he had ignored his surroundings on the way to the Common Room the night before. He wandered for a while, went down a staircase, and through two doors. Then he decided to retrace his steps and start again. Back through the two doors and up the staircase, then he stopped. He was in a completely different part of the school. Damn those moving staircases!

Needless to say, by the time Draco got to the Great Hall, the mail was arriving. Draco sat down and started wolfing down his breakfast, not really noticing what it was, and looked around for his owl, Ion. It didn't take that long to find him. There weren't that many eagle owls up there. Ion landed in front of his master, ruffled his feathers, and looked at Draco with large, steady eyes.

"I've got a letter for you," Draco told his owl, "It's for my Father." Ion didn't respond except to put out his leg. Draco tied his letter to the owl's outstretched leg, and Ion took off, flying gracefully out of the window. Draco watched him go and crossed his fingers under the table. With any luck, he'd be out of here by tomorrow.

* * *

The rest of Draco's day passed slowly. Not that the classes weren't interesting, they were. It was just something about being surrounded with these idiots (a.k.a. Gryffindors) that made him feel, well, stupid. Though the classes themselves were the least of his worries. He also had to get to those classes, for example. He once missed a class entirely, just trying to locate it. Needless to say, when Draco finally got back to his "temporary" common room, as he had decided to call it, he was completely exhausted. He was thinking about not doing his homework and going straight up to bed, when he heard tapping on the window. He looked over to see Ion there, patiently waiting for his master to open the window, now that he had his attention.

Draco walked over and did just that, though quietly so that nobody would notice. He took the note from Ion, let the owl out of the window again, and went up to his dormitory where he hoped nobody would be.

Amazingly, Draco observed when he opened the dormitory door to find the room empty, something had actually gone as he had hoped!

He sat down on his bed and opened the letter. Sure enough, it was from his father.

Draco,

I shall be arriving at Hogwarts tomorrow at 10:45 to speak with the head master. Be sure to be at his office at that time so that we may obtain a transfer for you.

We shall talk about your disgrace to the family name after the transfer has been made.

It was signed Lucius Malfoy. Draco cringed. He sure wasn't looking forward to that talk.

Well, he thought, look at the bright side. I'll be out of this house by tomorrow. With that comforting thought, Draco fell asleep.