Rating:
R
House:
Schnoogle
Characters:
Draco Malfoy Harry Potter
Genres:
General Slash
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix
Stats:
Published: 03/25/2004
Updated: 04/28/2004
Words: 38,228
Chapters: 7
Hits: 105,640

A Slytherin in Gryffindor Clothing

mahaliem

Story Summary:
Draco hits his head and wakes to find himself in another world where he's a Gryffindor and Harry Potter is a Slytherin.

Chapter 02

Chapter Summary:
Draco is having trouble adjusting to the different world he finds himself in, where he's a Gryffindor and Harry is a Slytherin.
Posted:
04/11/2004
Hits:
14,470
Author's Note:
A huge thank you to Aoibhail and A Boy for beta reading this story.


Chapter 2 -

Five days later, Harry was still glaring at Draco. Draco didn't know what Potter's problem was; there hadn't been that much blood. In addition, the resulting panic that ensued with the knowledge that the shandle-pops could bite had been extremely amusing.

It had taken a good long while for Hagrid to calm everyone down and herd the class to a field not too far from his hut, next to the Forbidden Forest, to release the shandle-pops so that they could burrow down and wait for the next full moon.

Draco was getting used to his new home in the Gryffindor dormitory. There had been an awkward moment when he'd put zeilder suction bugs in all of the seventh-year boys' beds but his own. Finnigan, Thomas, Longbottom, and Weasley had surrounded him with hurt faces and Draco had felt a strange feeling he'd never felt before and decided it might be guilt. The moment eased when Weasley started laughing and said that now he knew what to do the next time his brother Percy came home to visit.

The other boys had begun to laugh, too, and Draco decided that even though Weasley was...well, a Weasley, he wasn't totally useless.

From that point on, the boys took to warding their beds and attempting to play practical jokes on each other. Amazingly, it was Neville who turned out be the most ingenious in his pranks. Who knew that plants had so many irritating properties?

Being on constant guard against his dorm mates was almost as good, Draco reflected, as being back in Slytherin. It was also quite wonderful that he could get Weasley to go along with even his most outrageous schemes.

Granger, however, was getting suspicious.

The girl knew something was going on, but couldn't quite figure it out. Lately, she'd taken to testing him, asking him what he would do in certain situations.

"Suppose you see a first-year crying. What would you do?" Hermione asked.

Draco squashed the automatic response of 'laugh and make note that whichever abuse I wrought worked splendidly' to reply instead with "Which house?"

"Does it matter?" She arched an eyebrow as she watched him closely.

Oops. "Of course not," he answered quickly. "But I would need to know where to take the sweet child after I picked it up and cradled it like a babe in my arms."

Both of Hermione's eyebrows shot up.

"Just kidding," Draco said weakly. "I would go running down the hall to see if I could catch whatever might have upset her." Silently, he added 'without first finding out any useful information like what it was and where it went.'

Hermione smiled and Draco let out a held breath.

Draco couldn't exactly blame Hermione for being suspicious. By all accounts, he'd been the usual 'stupidly brave, so much better than all the rest of you' Gryffindor before his world had changed. Now, however, he was a Slytherin in Gryffindor clothing and there were times when someone insulted his true house that he couldn't just sit by and listen.

Usually, he was able to quell this impulse, but on the morning of the Slytherin and Ravenclaw Quidditch match, he lost control. It was breakfast and all of the houses were excited. Malfoy glanced over at the Slytherin table that seemed to hum with energy and felt a pang of jealousy. They were expected, with Potter's exceptional Seeker skills, to win and thus clinch the House Quidditch Cup title.

Potter seemed happy, talking animatedly to Crabbe and Goyle as they piled huge amounts of food on their plates. Draco watched him use sausage links to talk strategy only to have them taken from his hands by his friends and munched on. Potter started to protest then paused, mid-sentence, and looked up to catch Draco still studying him.

The rest of the noisy dining hall seemed to fade away as Draco and Potter stared at one another. The moment was ruined when a loud, rude voice nearby said loudly, "Of course, Slytherin will win. Potter cheats."

Spinning around, Draco saw a Hufflepuff, he believed it was named Justin, but wasn't sure as Hufflepuffs were beneath his notice, spouting off to a group of his friends who were all nodding their agreement.

"Potter doesn't cheat," Draco muttered.

Heads swivelled. "What did you say, Malfoy?" asked Justin.

Rising to a stand, Draco said in a cold, haughty voice, "Potter doesn't cheat."

The Hufflepuff seemed a little disconcerted at Draco's defence of Harry, but he shook it off.

"He must cheat. How else do you explain the fact that he always catches the snitch?"

Draco advanced towards Justin. "This might be too much for your little mind to absorb, but has it ever occurred to you that Potter might be good?" Draco asked, his voice getting louder and harsher. "So good that he doesn't need to cheat? So good that he might actually be one of the best Quidditch players to have ever played the game?"

Justin's eyes darted around, looking for allies in the face of this onslaught, but found that his friends were all as taken aback by Draco's defence of Potter as he was. Refusing to give up the argument he stammered, "But he's a Slytherin. Slytherins always cheat."

"Slytherins do not always cheat!" Draco roared. "Slytherins cheat if they need to. Or if they think it will be amusing. Or they might cheat to simply see if they can break the rules and get away with it. They might even cheat as part of a larger, more nefarious plan. But Slytherins do not always cheat!"

The Great Hall was completely silent as everyone stared at Draco. Even Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape had ceased their furtive whispering at the head table to stare at him. Draco sneaked a quick glance at Potter, whose mouth was hanging open in amazement.

Dumbledore slowly rose to his feet. "Mister Malfoy, thank you for that enlightening testimony on Mister Potter's prowess at Quidditch and Slytherin honour. You may now be seated."

Silently, Draco slunk to his seat next to Granger.

"Now that was interesting," Hermione said.

* * *

A few hours later, Draco was still subdued as he walked to the Quidditch pitch with Weasley and Granger to watch the game.

"Cheer up, Draco," Ron said, bouncing along next to him while carrying the sack Draco had handed them when they started out. "Not everyone thinks that you've totally lost your nut. Hermione and I don't think so."

Ron looked over at Hermione, and then amended his statement. "Well, I don't think so."

Hermione touched Draco's elbow gently. "Your speech was very impressive. It even made me feel guilty, as if I might've misjudged the Slytherins."

"And you know Hermione," Ron added. "Always wanting fair treatment for everyone. You should see what she made."

Draco stopped walking and tilted his head to one side as he studied Granger. "You made something?"

"It's not much. Really."

He held out his hand. "May I see it?"

Flushing, Hermione reached inside her robes and came out with three, round, flat objects and handed one to Draco. Examining it, he saw that it was a green and silver badge with 'Support Slytherins Society" emblazoned on the front, a picture of a snake wound around the circular edge.

"She's got it charmed so that every time Slytherin scores, the snake hisses," Ron said, proud of his new girlfriend.

Draco lifted his eyes to Hermione. She'd made a badge for him. A badge. He loved badges.

"You," he said, looking into Hermione's eyes, "you are a goddess, too wonderful for this poor, drab earth."

Smiling widely at the praise, Hermione took the badge from Draco and pinned it on his robes, then leaned close to his ear.

"And you, one day, will have to tell me what this was all about."

When they reached the pitch, Hermione and Ron turned towards the Gryffindor stands, but Draco didn't even pause. Slytherin was going to win and he was determined to be with other Slytherins to see it. His new friends glanced at each other, then followed him toward where the Slytherins sat.

As they entered Slytherin territory, Millicent Bulstrode stood to block their way.

"What are the lot of you doing here?" she snarled.

Draco smiled his most gracious smile, which in his mind was one of the most devastating weapons in his arsenal, then pointed to the badge on his robes.

"It's fine. We have badges," he said as if this was a valid explanation, then moved past her. Millicent blinked a few times, then returned to her seat.

Spotting a space near Pansy, Draco motioned for his two extremely worried friends to follow him as he squeezed his way in, the entire time ordering packs of young Slytherins to move out of his way. With a great deal of satisfaction, he sat next to Pansy, who gave him a dirty look.

"One would think that the Slytherin stands would be safe from invasion from lesser beings."

"Yes, I know," said Draco. "But I have it on good authority that Professor Snape frowns on the tossing of first-years out of the stands, so what can one do?"

Pansy's eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed.

"Why are you here?"

Draco smiled at her indulgently. "I believe they're planning to play a game out there," he said, indicating the pitch. "It's played with an assortment of balls and is called Quidditch. You may have heard of it."

"No, that's not--" Pansy began, only to be interrupted by Malfoy's cry of dismay.

"This is not the perfect view. Weasley, sit here and I'll take your spot."

Shrugging, Ron stood and he and Draco switched places. Ron was now next to Pansy and Draco's view was only altered slightly.

"Oh, this is much, much better. You have my undying gratitude for the next three minutes, Weasley. Now give me my bag."

Digging into the sack that Ron handed him, Draco pulled out an assortment of sweets while Pansy did her best to continue her interrogation of the interlopers.

"What I meant was why are you...is that chocolate?" she asked, eyeing the treat Draco was now holding in his hand.

"Why yes it is. Would you care for some, Miss Parkinson?"

Pansy seemed mesmerised by the dark confection, then shook her head. "No, it's probably been poisoned, or something."

Draco feigned horror. "Taint chocolate? Never." He handed the treat to her, which she bit into, then closed her eyes in ecstasy as the sweetness touched her tongue.

"I would never poison chocolate," Draco continued, "except perhaps that piece."

At Pansy's sudden look of fear, Draco laughed. "Of course it's not poisoned. Weasley, make yourself useful and see that Miss Parkinson and all of her friends have plenty of sweets. Oh, and be sure to help yourself to any that appeal to you, too."

Hermione leaned close to Draco and whispered, "You've now gotten us past two challengers."

"Wait. There'll be a third," said Draco just as Blaise Zabini walked up to them.

"Is this some sort of plot, Malfoy?" he said, suspiciously.

"A plot?" Draco sniffed with disdain. "Gryffindors don't plot. Gryffindors rush in where angels or any idiot with more than a handful of brains would fear to tread. Which is what I believe we are currently doing."

Zabini stood for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what Draco had said. Impatiently, Draco waved him away.

"Go, Zabini, or I will have a discussion with Miss Bulstrode concerning your latest escapade."

A look of panic crossed Zabini's face. "How do you know what I did?"

"I have my sources," Draco said with smug satisfaction. "Now, go."

Hermione watched Blaise walk quickly away, then turned to Draco.

"What did Blaise do?"

"I have no idea, but he's always doing something. Mostly in a misguided attempt to capture Bulstrode's attention, but on occasion he goes too far."

At Hermione's confused look, Draco continued.

"Blaise has had an unrequited crush on Millicent Bulstrode since the fifth year. Unbeknown to him, she has a similar crush on him. He does something to get her attention, she, worried that it might anger him if she were to, say, smash his face in, does her utmost to ignore it. This only leads to him doing more outrageous things. It's all terribly amusing."

"How sad," Hermione said, "and strangely repugnant."

"Yes, isn't it? Blaise with his feminine airs and Millicent with her masculinity are definitely a match made in...well, not heaven, but rather somewhere with an interesting viewpoint of soul mates."

"Are you ever going to tell them?"

"Quite frankly, I'm scared to."

"Why?" Hermione asked, curious. "Do you think they'll be angry at you for not telling them earlier?"

"Nonsense. I fear that they might be so grateful that they'll name one of their progeny after me. Imagine - my name paired with someone from their loins?" Draco gave a little shudder.

"Look," shouted Ron through a mouthful of chocolate. "The teams are coming out now."

The Ravenclaws and Slytherins were getting in position when Harry glanced over at the Slytherin stands, then glanced back a second time. Draco waved wildly at him.

"Hmm," Draco mused a moment later. "Perhaps I went too far when I talked of Potter's skills at breakfast. It seems as though he almost fell off his broom just then."

* * *

"I can't believe you," Hermione fumed at Draco as they entered the common room. "You were actually a bad influence on the Slytherins."

"Yes, I was. Thank you for noticing."

"Well, I think it was bloody brilliant," Ron said, flinging himself down on a couch.

Hermione glared at him, then turned her focus back on Draco. "It was awful when the goal posts started dancing around shouting 'Slytherin rules' but when you, in an incredibly dangerous illegal act, put a love spell on Snape so that he began kissing McGonagall in front of everyone...disgraceful!"

"A love spell is forbidden, dark magic," Draco said, "and I resent the implication that anyone could have caught me doing it. Besides, would you have preferred it if I'd had him kiss Dumbledore?"

"Bloody brilliant," Ron uttered again, reliving the memory. "Thought she was going to hex him into little pieces when he tried to slip his tongue in her mouth."

Picking up a pillow from a nearby chair, Hermione started to use it to hit Ron repeatedly over the head. Draco was about to sit down and be thoroughly entertained by their antics when there came a loud knock on the entrance to the room.

Opening it, he was surprised to find Potter standing there, looking ill at ease.

"Potter, you moron," Malfoy greeted him. "Why aren't you at the Slytherin victory party, getting drunk, using tons of illegal substances, and having lots of hot, wild sex?"

When a flush began creeping up Harry's face, Malfoy added, "Oh, yes, your preferred partner is otherwise engaged, isn't he?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry mumbled.

Draco clutched his chest in a dramatic gesture. "Aargh, I am wounded by your witty repartee."

Ron grabbed Hermione's hands to keep her from continuing to pummel him with the pillow and raised his head to look at Harry and Draco.

"It's Potter. What does he want?"

"I believe that he wants me to shut up," Draco called back.

"He wants you to shut up?" repeated Hermione. "I like him. Invite him in."

"No," Draco said petulantly. "Potter came to see me and I'm not sharing him with you, Granger, and your wicked ways. See how you abuse poor Weasley...and Weasley likes it."

Hermione and Ron looked at each other and gasped.

Draco ignored their horrified expressions. "Please don't let me keep you from playing out your kinky sex scenarios. Potter and I will leave before you totally corrupt his poor innocence."

Taking Harry by the arm, Draco exited and started to make his way down the corridor. They hadn't gone far when Potter pulled away.

"I wanted to talk to you, Draco."

"Good, because if you wanted to shag me against the wall, I'm afraid I'd have to say 'No' because I'm not easy." Draco thought about it for a minute while eyeing Harry speculatively. "Actually, that's a lie. I am easy. You may commence with the shagging now."

"I don't want to shag you!"

"You don't? Well, forgive my saying so, Potter, but you have terrible taste. I suppose you don't think I'm pretty, then?"

"No. Yes. No...Listen, all I wanted to know was if you meant it. What you said this morning about me being really good at Quidditch."

Had no one ever paid this boy a compliment before? Draco wondered as Harry stood silently, waiting for him to answer. With a few words, Draco knew that he could smash this boy's self-esteem, tear him apart to the point that no one would ever be able to put him back together. Unfortunately, it would be too easy. Draco never liked things if they were easy.

"Yes, Potter, I meant what I said. You're a great Quidditch player."

Harry smiled at Draco and Draco felt as if he'd entered a warm home after a day shivering in the cold. Draco wanted to wrap that feeling around him and stay like that forever. If only...if only the Harry in his world had ever smiled at him like that.

Stepping away, Draco made a dismissing motion.

"Now run along, Potter, and enjoy the victory celebration."

As Potter began to walk down the corridor to leave, Draco called after him. "And don't let any of those supposedly sweet young virgins get hold of you. It's all lies. You'll wake up three days later, tied to a bed, smelling of lavender oil, and grinning like an idiot. Not that it ever happened to me, mind you."

Harry gave him another wide smile and left.

For some strange reason, Draco suddenly felt quite alone in the world.

* * *

NEWTs were coming up and Draco did what he had to do to get the best grade he could. First of all, he sneaked into the Ravenclaw dorm and stole their notes leaving in their stead photos he'd purchased from Colin Creevey of the Quidditch teams - taken while they were in the showers. Oddly enough, there was no outraged protest at the exchange.

He recruited Longbottom into helping him steal Granger's notes when she went for a walk around the lake with Weasley by telling him that he was simply going to borrow them for a moment to make sure they were entirely accurate. It certainly wasn't his fault that Longbottom's skin had turned orange when he triggered Granger's wards.

It was sad, really, how little trust some people had in their fellow man.

As a last ditch effort, he studied, all the time bemoaning his fate, positive that if he were in his regular world, he would've been able to avoid it.

The library was full of students preparing for the exams and Draco scanned the tables searching for an empty space. Weasley and Granger were ensconced in the Gryffindor common room, making googly eyes at one another, so Draco had decided on a change of scene.

Terry Boot, a Ravenclaw, noticed him enter and indicated an empty seat next to him, but Draco, saw the painting on the wall near Terry, and shook his head.

The painting was of his father. The first time he'd seen the portrait, when he'd been searching for information on what might have caused his change of worlds, it had taken him aback to see Lucius Malfoy so prominently displayed at Hogwarts. It was only when he remembered that in this world he was considered to be a hero that it made sense.

The portrait had sneered down at him and the familiarity of the expression had made Draco's heart clutch. Force of habit caused him to straighten his spine, stare the painting in the eye, and return the sneer.

"Libraries aren't really your style, are they father?" he'd said. "Pity there isn't a den of iniquity at Hogwarts for you to lord over."

His father's portrait had smiled coldly and replied, "No more snivelling, wanting acknowledgement?"

"Please. A Malfoy never snivels, though I am curious as to how you might react if I were to set your frame alight."

Lucius' image had stared at him for a moment, before nodding his head with approval. "You might be worthy of the name Malfoy, after all."

Draco had simply turned his back on the painting and walked away.

Despite having come through the encounter no worse for wear, he had no desire to repeat the experience. Moving his gaze from Terry, Draco walked deeper into the library. It was at the last table, in the shadows of shelves, that he spied Harry sitting alone.

Potter sitting alone, without his friends, Crabbe and Goyle, made sense. It was one of those immutable facts, the sun rose in the east, set in the west, and Crabbe and Goyle never studied. It was also an immutable fact that Crabbe and Goyle were idiots.

Plopping down in the seat next to Potter, Draco spent several minutes spreading out his books, scrolls, and quills, placing them in front of him just so. After a moment, he rearranged the books and scrolls so that they were in order by subject. When he started to line up his quills by feather colour, Harry spoke up.

"Most people actually open books when they study."

Draco sniffed. "Malfoys are not 'most people'."

After a moment of perusing the table, Draco said, "Potter, trade Potion textbooks with me."

A frown appeared on Harry's face. "Why?"

"I spilled part of a vanishing potion on my book and I need an unblemished copy."

"And you want mine? Forget it."

"It's not as if Snape's going to grade you harshly. Come now, be a good minion and give me your text."

Potter straightened up in his chair and glared at Malfoy.

"I'm not your minion!"

"No, I suppose not," Draco sighed. You're much too independent to be a minion. Very well, you can be a henchman."

Harry scowled. "You know, Malfoy, even though I'd never talked with you before, I didn't like you. Now that I have talked to you, I still don't like you."

"We never talked?" Draco asked, shocked. "Not even to hurl petty insults at one another as a prelude to rolling around on the floor in combat?"

Potter made a great show of edging his chair away from Draco. "No."

"No duels? No stupid pranks, which were supremely wonderful ideas, though they failed miserably in their execution?"

Potter edged his chair further away from Draco. "No."

"No hexes? No joint detentions in the Forbidden Forest? No stupid and humiliating rejection of my friendship?"

"Crabbe, Goyle, and I used to bump into you quite a bit going in and out of classes."

Shaking his head, Draco said mournfully. "Sad, Potter, very, very sad."

"Hey, I knocked you off your broom at your last Quidditch game," Harry remembered.

"Accident or on purpose?" Draco asked suspiciously.

"Um...accident."

Crossing his arms, Draco studied Harry for a moment. "Well, we have quite a bit on our to do list then, don't we? I suppose we should start out with insults. You, Potter, are the poorest excuse for a Slytherin I've ever met."

"Well, you're a pretty lousy Gryffindor."

Draco beamed. "Why thank you. I believe that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

Harry huffed out a breath, exasperated. "Is this when we start rolling on the floor together?"

"Patience. I never roll on the floor after the first insult."

"You are an incredibly annoying, irritating, dislikeable wanker."

"Why, Harry, you're improving. That was actually a half decent insult. Keep going like that and we'll be on the floor before you know it."

Harry decided it would probably be a good idea to stop talking and study instead.

* * *

Looking up from his scrolls, Draco was surprised to note that it was late and the library was all but abandoned. Potter, next to him, had his head on the table and was snoring softly. He was tempted to leave Harry there and let him wake in the morning in a pool of drool, but decided instead to go with his first instinct.

Quietly standing up, he grabbed the back of Harry's chair and yanked hard, pulling it over and toppling Harry to the floor.

Harry let out a loud yelp and scrambled about for a moment, before getting to his feet.

"What was that?" asked Harry, looking around.

"You must have had a nightmare and fallen out of your chair," Draco said nonchalantly. "Quite clumsy of you."

"Oh."

Draco decided that even though this Potter was a Slytherin, he was much more gullible than the Gryffindor version. In his world, he evidently kept his Harry on his toes, made him more vigilant, a trait that might even help the git defeat Voldemort. And would Draco ever be thanked for it? Not bloody likely.

"I believe we missed dinner. I don't know about you but I'm going to the kitchens to get something to eat," Draco said, gathering his things from the table, then turning away.

Harry snatched his books and scrolls up as well. "I'm hungry, too."

Together, they walked out of the library, down a staircase, and around a bend. Draco began to go down another staircase, when Harry grabbed his arm.

"It's quicker this way," Harry said, pointing to a corridor on the right.

"Yes, it is," Draco agreed, "if you don't mind getting caught. That corridor and the next are almost always patrolled. Don't you know that? Cra..., I mean I learned that the first week of our first year."

"Usually I don't worry about getting caught."

Draco stopped and stared at Harry. "Exactly how many professors are you putting out for Potter?"

"That's not what I meant!" Harry said in a voice much too loud. At Draco's shush, Harry said more quietly. "Crabbe, Goyle, and I, we have something that sort of helps."

Arching an eyebrow, Draco continued staring at Harry, waiting for further explanation.

Flushing, Harry said, "It's an Invisibility Cloak, all right? My father told me he didn't have any more use for it so he gave it to me."

An Invisibility Cloak. Harry Potter had an invisibility cloak. Suddenly many things that had happened during Draco's seven years at Hogwarts made sense.

Draco smacked Harry in the head.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You deserved it," Draco hissed.

"Why?"

"On...on general principle."

Rubbing his head, Harry looked at Draco warily. "When I knocked you off your broom, did you go psycho or were you always that way?"

"More insults? You're trying to improve for me. I'm touched," Draco said, before continuing on toward the kitchens.

"You definitely are touched," Harry muttered, following behind. "Touched in the head."

In the kitchens, Draco was pleased to find that house elves were more than happy to scurry around and dig up things for him and Potter to eat. One of them, Doppy, or Goppy, or something like that, kept wanting to talk, calling him Master Draco instead of bringing him that second serving of chocolate pudding that he wanted.

"You should not be here, Master Draco. You should go," the house elf said.

"Yes, we'll go as soon as I'm done here," Draco said, finally receiving another dish of pudding and taking a bite.

The elf nodded. "Good. Hogwarts is dangerous. Home is where you should be."

Harry and Draco looked at one another.

"What do you mean, dangerous?" asked Harry.

"Bad thing. Evil thing is coming. Coming to Hogwarts. It will be here soon."

"How soon? Do I have time to finish my pudding?"

"Mustn't make fun, Master Draco. It will come when the moon is full, and many will die."

Draco took another bite of pudding.

"How can you just sit there and eat?" Harry asked, fear lancing through his voice. "Dobby just told us that in less than a week, Hogwarts will be attacked."

"What's to worry about?" Draco said, shrugging. "You'll just swoop down, do your bit, and save us all."

Draco looked up to find Harry staring at him, jaw hanging open.

This Harry had never been a hero, Draco realised.

"Oh," Draco said. "Damn."