Draco Malfoy and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter One: The Hogwarts Express and the Sorting Hat

Draco was bored. He sighed dramatically and folded his arms over his chest, wishing fervently for something exciting to happen. He was going to Hogwarts for Merlin's sake! He was leaving home for an extended amount of time for the first time in his eleven-year-old life and it was boring.

Oh, he was with his friends, of course, but they were the same friends he'd been seeing since he was born. They were alright (otherwise Draco would never have associated with them), but being with anyone for years can make them seem dull.

Suddenly the door to their compartment slid open, and Draco looked up eagerly. It was Pansy, looking thoroughly excited.

"What's happened?" asked Draco, sitting up straight in his seat. He let out a frustrated half-growl as Pansy took her time closing the compartment door and taking her seat next between Millicent and Blaise before clearing her throat, causing everyone to look at her.

"Guess who's on the train?" she asked, but before anyone had a chance to respond, she squealed and shouted in a manner that would make Draco's mother scold her for being improper, "Harry Potter!"

"Really?" asked Millicent eagerly. For some reason Draco could not understand, it seemed that in recent years both Pansy and Millicent had developed crushes on Harry Potter. They'd never seen or met him, but for some reason they claimed to be madly in love with the boy.

Girls.

"Yes! I just saw him. He's sitting with that clumsy Longbottom boy not too far from our compartment," Pansy said so rapidly that Draco was only barely able to keep up with her.

"Where?" demanded Draco, effectively putting an end to their ridiculous giggling.

"About six compartments down, to the left," Pansy said. "Why?"

"I'm going to see him," he informed her as if it should have been obvious to her what he was intending to do. He rose and made for the door, stopping when Crabbe and Goyle rose too. He looked at them for a moment before shaking his head, saying, "I'd rather go alone this time, boys." They sat down again, confused but willing to obey without questioning him, as they always were.

Draco felt oddly nervous as he walked, counting doors. One, two, three, four, five... six. There it was. He swallowed hard, wondering what he was going to say. How does one impress the boy widely considered to be the saviour of the entire wizarding world?

He shook his head and rubbed his sweating palms against his robes. He told himself not to be silly--they were the same age, after all, and the boy was only human, like Draco himself was.

Draco slid the door open, and felt a twinge of discomfort as the two boys inside fell silent, staring at him. He had obviously interrupted their conversation, and he hoped that Harry Potter wasn't the sort to hold it against him.

"Is it true?" he said, and instantly berated himself for not saying anything more witty. What a way to win over Harry Potter! At this rate he'd never do it. Draco barreled on. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said Harry. Draco stared at him, taking in the thick, awkward glasses, the shaggy, unkempt black hair, the oversized clothing and the famous lightning bolt scar. "Who are you?"

His attention snapped back down to Harry's face, and their eyes met. Draco stared at the brightest eyes he had ever seen in his life, transfixed by the unbridled fire in them.

"Draco Malfoy," he said, hearing himself say it but not really aware of it happening. On impulse, he stuck out his hand.

Harry looked him over for a long moment, glancing at the other boy in the compartment before reaching out and grabbing it.

Awareness came crashing down Draco again, sudden and shocking like being doused with ice water. Harry's hand was much warmer than his, and the grip firmer. The boy looked brown next to his pale skin.

They released each other's hands and an awkward silence fell for a moment. Harry broke it by saying, "Uh, here, you can sit."

"Thank you," Draco said politely. He remembered distantly that his mother would be very proud of his manners--he hadn't even made any comments about the Longbottom boy's clumsiness. Turning to the other, so far ignored boy, Draco forced a small smile. "Neville Longbottom, yes?"

"Yeah, um. Hi," the boy said. Draco looked him over quickly. He was pudgy, but in a way that suggested a nearing growth spurt, and his eyes were brown and darting around nervously. His hair was a shade of sandy-blonde. On the whole, he was rather unremarkable, but Draco remembered that his parents were quite famous for their magical skill and their bravery when faced with the prospect of torture.

"So, Draco," Harry said, filling the silence once again. "Any idea what house you're going to be in? Neville was just telling me about them."

"Slytherin, probably," Draco said casually, not even pausing to think about it. "My whole family's been in Slytherin." Neville squeaked. Draco turned to look at him curiously. "What?"

"I h-heard that all the evil w-wizards were in Slytherin," Neville stammered. Draco scowled. He'd been afraid of this reaction.

"Not all the people who come from Slytherin are evil," he said. "I like to think that my mother is quite nice." Harry laughed, and Draco felt a happy glow wash over him for a moment. He had amused Harry Potter! He was making progress already. Mother and Father would be so proud.

"I'm sure Neville didn't mean it that way," Harry said, smiling. "I think I'd like to be in Gryffindor."

"Gryffindor?" Draco said, making a face. "Why?"

"Well, none of the other houses sound like I'd fit in there. I'm not really smart, so Ravenclaw's out, and I'm not really social like Hufflepuffs, and I'm not sneaky like Slytherins. That pretty much leaves Gryffindor," said Harry simply. "Besides, that was Dumbledore's house when he was a student."

"Oh," said Draco. "I think you're friendlier than you think you are, and Ravenclaw is more about being willing to work than being smart. And being sneaky is something you learn in Slytherin." Harry seemed to seriously consider this for a moment before smiling a little.

"I still think Gryffindor would be the best for me," he said. Draco shrugged, not wanting to get into an argument with The Boy Who Lived. Deciding that since Harry seemed to like this Neville boy, he should try to involve him.

"What about you?" Draco asked. "What house do you want to be in?"

"I'm h-hoping for Gryffindor," said the boy shyly. "My parents were in G-Gryffindor. But I think I'll actually be in H-Hufflepuff." Neville ducked his head, embarrassed.

"With an attitude like that, you will be," Draco said, raising an eyebrow. "I've heard that if you ask the Hat, it'll listen to you."

"Hat?" asked Harry. "What Hat?"

"The Sorting Hat," answered Draco. "It's how first years get put into their houses. They put on an enchanted hat and then it shouts out what you should be in." Neville nodded.

"My gran said something about a h-hat," he said. "But she said she couldn't r-really remember."

"Just wondering," Harry said, fixing his gaze on Draco, "but if you aren't in Slytherin, where would you want to be?"

"Probably Ravenclaw," Draco said after only a moment of hesitation. "I'd rather die than be in Hufflepuff, because they're not known for their talents."

Harry frowned. "What's wrong with Gryffindor?" Draco licked his lips--terrible habit, he heard his mother's voice say--and thought carefully about how to express his thoughts. He didn't want to offend Harry or his friend, after all.

"They're very impulsive," said Draco finally, "and hot-headed. They tend to whip their wands out first and ask questions later."

"Huh," said Harry, brow furrowed. Draco marveled at how openly the boy expressed his emotions. "Are all of them like that?" He was addressing both of the other boys, and Draco waited for Neville to answer first.

"Uh, I t-think so," Neville admitted.

"Most of them," Draco said with a firm nod.

"Well, I'm not really like that," said Harry. "I don't get angry very much." He looked to Neville. "You don't seem like you get angry easily, either."

"I don't, u-usually."

"So maybe neither of us should be in Gryffindor," Harry said slowly. Draco cheered inside his head. Oh, this was great!

"W-what should we be in?" asked Neville.

"I don't know," said Harry. "I still don't think Slytherin's right for me. I like to be honest when I can." He paused to think for a moment before shaking his head. "Hufflepuff's not for me, either. I guess that leaves Ravenclaw."

"Ravenclaw sounds a-alright," said Neville after a moment, then sank down in his seat. "I still th-think I'm going to end up in Hufflepuff."

"Really," said Draco earnestly, "just try asking the Sorting Hat not to put you in Hufflepuff, and you'll end up wherever else it thinks you should be."

"You seem like a Ravenclaw to me," said Harry abruptly to Draco. "You seem a lot smarter than a lot of people I've met who're our age."

"Thank you," Draco said with a small smile. "But my parents are really hoping for me to be in Slytherin. It's a family tradition, you see, and my whole family is very traditional."

"But shouldn't you do what you think is best for you?" asked Harry with a small frown. "I mean, I understand wanting to please your family, but won't you be happier if you do what you think you should instead of what they think you should?" Draco paused to think about it.

It was a dangerous notion. Never before had Draco seriously thought about doing something that directly went against his father's wishes--not for something so serious and life-changing as his house--but... the thought was strangely appealing.

"I think... that you may be right," Draco said.

"So, Draco. Think about it. Why do you want to be a Slytherin?" asked Harry, latching onto this train of thought.

"I haven't ever seriously thought about being in any of the other houses," replied Draco with a small shrug. "I've always done what my parents wanted, in the end."

"Think about it now, then," said Harry, half-commanding, half-imploring. He was on the edge of his seat now, eager to see what Draco would decide.

And think Draco did. He considered each of the houses very carefully. He kept his opinion that Hufflepuff was really not for him, and that Gryffindors were a bunch of incompetent morons, but what of Slytherin and Ravenclaw?

From the stories his mother had told, Slytherin sounded exciting and fun. It sounded exactly like Draco's element. It was elitist, it was challenging. The politics were complex even beginning with age eleven.

But from what he had heard from his father, Slytherin sounded dangerous and, if he was to be quite honest with himself, scary. Your fellow house members would shun you in an instant for one wrong move, they wouldn't even yell, instead going behind your back and getting everyone plotting against you.

He didn't know all that much about Ravenclaw, only that it was the house of knowledge. That didn't sound half-bad to him, in fact. Draco had always been rather quick when it came to his studies, and he wondered if, perhaps, Ravenclaw wouldn't be better for him, in the end.

"Well?" prompted Harry after a few minutes, the eager smile still in place. Slowly, Draco smiled back.

"I think we're all agreed about this," he said.

"Great!" said Harry enthusiastically. "Then Ravenclaw it is."

They reached the school after another hour, Neville and Harry changing into their robes with barely enough time to spare. The three boys had talked about everything, it seemed to them, and Draco had been immensely relieved when Neville had stopped stuttering.

The three climbed off the of the train together, and suddenly Harry broke into a wide smile. "Hagrid!" he yelled. Draco was slightly distressed to see his friend--oh, how good it felt to call Harry Potter a friend--addressing an extremely large, hairy man.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?" the man paused in his yelling to greet the boy, and then returned to it.

"You know him?" Draco asked as they headed for the lake where a small group of other first years were standing near a bunch of boats.

"That's Hagrid," Harry said, nodding. "He's the one who gave me my Hogwarts letter and took me to Diagon Alley."

"Oh," said Draco, and decided to try not to pass judgment on the man he was sure wasn't fully human.

"Into the boats now!" called Hagrid, and Harry led the way. When the trio was settled in their boat, it began to move across the eerily still, black water.

"I've heard that there's a giant squid that lives in this lake," said Draco. Neville gasped, and Harry laughed.

"I'd believe it, after all the things I've seen since I found out that I'm a wizard," said Harry.

It was Draco's turn to gasp.

"You didn't know?" he asked, shocked.

"No, I didn't," answered Harry. For the first time since they had first begun talking, he seemed uncomfortable. "My relatives didn't see fit to tell me. They hate magic."

"How can they hate magic?" asked Draco, bewildered.

"They're Muggles," explained Harry. "They used to tell me all kinds of things to make excuses for my magic. They said I was 'unnatural.'"

"Unnatural?" Draco repeated. For some reason, he found himself growing more and more angry by the second, until he was nearly shaking with rage. "Unnatural? How could they have told you that? You're the greatest hero the Wizarding World has had since Dumbledore defeated Grindlewald!" Harry laughed and shrugged.

"I guess they didn't see it that way," he said. "Besides, I didn't do anything great. It was just luck, I guess."

"No," said Draco firmly, shaking his head. "You do not survive something like the Killing Curse with luck."

Harry stared at him for a moment before smiling. "Maybe not, but I was only a baby. I didn't do anything." Draco frowned.

"I don't see how that's possible," he said. He stopped, deciding not to go on since they had reached the opposite shore. Harry climbed out first, offering a hand to help Draco out and then Neville.

Having not been paying attention to what was happening around him during their boat ride, his first view of Hogwarts was staggering.

They were directly in front of the large castle doors, and so Draco had to crane his neck to see the rest of the castle. It was hard to make out in the dark, but it was obviously magnificent.

It was a huge structure, made of large blocks and Draco could tell by the slight colour variations that there had been additional towers added over the years. The windows gleamed, lighting shining through, creating beacons in the starry night sky.

He jumped as Hagrid pounded a large fist against the door, then again, and again. It swung open instantly, revealing a witch in emerald green robes, her black hair pulled back into a tight bun and square glasses perched on her nose. Draco saw immediately that she was not someone you should cross, and he decided not to think about what the consequences might be if you did.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She pulled the door open and stepped aside, allowing the students to enter. Draco made sure that as the group moved, he stayed very close to Harry and Neville, not wanting to lose them.

The entrance hall was only a little larger than Malfoy Manor's own, though Draco thought that the marble staircase was a nice touch.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Draco could hear chattering voices from what he assumed was the Great Hall, but followed McGonagall dutifully into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They were crowded, and several people bumped into each other as they shifted nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. Draco thought she didn't sound very welcoming, but decided to say nothing. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber. Beside Draco, Harry swallowed nervously. As Draco was about to ask Harry what exactly he was so nervous about, he heard a high-pitched voice behind him.

"Draco! There you are!" It was Pansy. Draco rolled his eyes at Harry, and then turned around, plastering a smile onto his face.

"Pansy," he said mildly.

"Where were you?" she demanded, placing her hands on her hips and elbowing Blaise and Millicent in the ribs in the process.

"I was sitting with Harry and Neville," he told her.

"Oh," she said, sounding curious. "What--"

She was cut off by the sound of gasping coming from a large portion of the students. Draco turned back around and saw about twenty ghosts streaming through the wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing.

Draco wasn't listening to them, instead looking over them all with great interest. He had heard that there were many ghosts at Hogwarts, and this was his first time seeing any in person. He decided that it was fascinating, and resisted the urge to reach up and touch one, knowing his hand would simply go through. Besides, he heard his mother saying in his head, it would be poor etiquette.

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Glancing over at Harry as they began to file after each other, Draco could tell that the other boy was nervous, though he couldn't understand why. They walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Even Draco was momentarily shocked by the place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver.

Draco saw Professor McGonagall silently place a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat, the Sorting Hat. It was rather less splendid than Draco had expected, patched and frayed and extremely dirty. His mother wouldn't have let it in the house.

For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim open wide like a mouth--and the hat began to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. Draco glanced at Harry and, finding that his friend was still nervous, gave him a reassuring smile. Harry returned it weakly.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause--

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them. Draco looked them over critically, trying to determine what sort of people they were, as he was planning to join them quite soon.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw, too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers. Draco saw two red-haired twins yelling quite loudly; he sneered, figuring them to be Weasleys.

Millicent, predictably, became a Slytherin. He felt a little guilty about not wanting to be in the same house as his friends when she looked to him and smiled proudly.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Finnigan, Seamus!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Granger, Hermione!"

Draco frowned as she sat and sat, becoming very frustrated as the Sorting Hat took longer and longer to decide.

Finally, it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Neville was called soon after that. Draco and Harry glanced at each other hopefully, and it took the Hat even longer to place him than the Granger girl.

Finally, finally, it called out, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Draco and Harry looked at each other again, frowning. Despite the boy's awkwardness, Draco had begun to genuinely like him. How unfortunate.

But at least he still had Harry.

Not too long after that, it was his turn. He gave Harry a quick smile before walking to the stool, trying to appear confident when his insides were beginning to churn. What was he thinking, planning to disobey his father?

"Ah, a Malfoy," said the Hat quietly. "I assume you'll want to be in Slytherin, then?"

Draco decided that if he didn't say it now, he never would.

"No."

"No?" the Hat sounded genuinely surprised, but at the same time, pleased. "No? Well, where shall we put you, then, young Malfoy?"

"Ravenclaw," said Draco.

"Are you sure?" asked the Hat. "Gryffindor might be good for you."

"Yes, I'm sure. I want Ravenclaw." Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes as the Hat began to try to persuade him that Gryffindor really was the house for him.

"Listen, I've already decided. I want to be in Ravenclaw."

The Hat hesitated for a moment before it made a sound that almost sounded like a sigh to Draco, and replied, "Very well. If you're positive, then I will allow you your choice of RAVENCLAW!"

It occurred to him that the last word was shouted so that the entire hall could hear, and he smiled, quite pleased with himself, as he stood and took off the hat, leaving it on the stool. The Ravenclaw table looked rather confused, but not unhappy as they clapped. The prefects shook his hand and Draco sat on the edge, making sure that there would be enough room for Harry when he was sorted into Ravenclaw. He resisted the urge to look over at his friends at the Slytherin table.

Draco stopped paying attention to the sorting for a time, allowing himself to look over the rest of the Ravenclaws. They looked like a rather normal bunch, which suited Draco alright, he supposed.

He began listening again as he heard Harry's name called. He saw his friend falter as the whole Hall began whispering. The boy beside him, Boot, Draco thought he was called, was being particularly loud. Turning to him, Draco said, "Shhh!" The boy shut his mouth instantly, looking slightly surprised. Draco turned back to the platform, where Harry was now sitting on the stool.

Harry looked as though he was arguing with the hat, and it went on for several minutes, each second making Draco more nervous until finally, the Hat yelled--

"SLYTHERIN!"

The whole Hall was silent. Draco felt his insides turn cold as one thought penetrated his shocked mind:

He was alone in this, now. His father was going to kill him.