And Then He Realized

Dumbledore had a rather surprising announcement for everyone at breakfast the next day. A student was coming to Hogwarts to visit, and perhaps enroll, from a small private school in Spain that had managed to keep all of its students completely out of the war. Even though Voldemort had yet to spread to the Continent, young witches and wizards were still flocking to the United Kingdom in hordes to help repel the forces of the Dark Lord.

Harry could understand trying to keep students out of a war, and he could understand how much easier it would be when you were hundreds of miles away and the amount of students that you had to guarantee the safety of was smaller than that of Hogwarts, but he still didn't like the school already. There were people dying all over England in order to protect it - and probably the rest of the world - but the school couldn't at least inform their students better, so that they knew a little more about the war? From what Harry had heard, the new student didn't know much about Voldemort, other than his first rise to power, and his parents wanted it to stay that way. Apparently, he was scheduled to arrive at the very end of breakfast, so everyone had been asked to please stay and greet him upon his arrival.

As the end of breakfast neared, the tension in the Great Hall began to grow, at all of the four tables. The Gryffindors were worried that he'd be a Slytherin, the Slytherins were worried he'd be a Gryffindor, the Huffepuffs were worried that he wouldn't be nice, and the Ravenclaws were worried that he would be remarkably dim. Dumbledore finally stood, and most of the students seated at the long tables held their breath, glancing nervously between the door and their headmaster.

Draco, naturally, wasn't engaging in such pathetic behavior. Dumbledore would make his announcement when he wanted to make his announcement, and their new arrival would arrive when he wanted to arrive. Draco patiently buttered his toast and waited.

"As you are all no doubt aware," began Dumbledore, sparkling blue eyes peering out to look at each House in turn, "there will be a new student arriving any moment now. He is coming to visit Hogwarts, and perhaps enroll, so I would encourage you to all be on your best behavior. Contrary to popular belief, Hogwarts is not universally recognized as the greatest wizarding school of all time," here Dumbledore's mouth quirked into a small smile, and everyone released part of the breath they had been holding. Dumbledore had said it was a male, so that was one thing off their chest, "and I would prefer if you would not give other countries reasons to doubt the security and intelligence of the United Kingdom and its schools of magic." The entire population of Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry leaned forward, on the edge of their seats, just waiting for the introduction to finish.

Except for Draco, who was now munching happily on his very well-buttered toast.

"So, without further ado, I present to you," Dumbledore continued, pausing for dramatic effect, "Mr. Dario Antonio Casta!"

Draco spit out his toast.

Luckily, no eyes were on him. Everyone was staring, riveted, at the entrance to the Great Hall. The doors eventually swung open and a tall, tan boy walked in. He looked more like a girl, really, with dark brown curls falling to about his shoulders and soft-looking brown eyes. His androgynous clothing, quite reminiscent of Draco's own, didn't help either. Stopping after only a few steps into the room, Dario glanced around, almost as if looking for someone that he knew. Whispers began almost immediately. What lucky girl was it that this gorgeous (because he really was, with his beige pants and light blue top and complemented his colors perfectly) exchange student was looking for? Whoever she was, why hadn't she been bragging constantly about her foreign fling? The whispers only intensified when his gaze stopped on the Slytherin table. Everyone knew that house was full of sluts anyway.

Dario grinned and began stalking towards Draco, ignoring Dumbledore's protests that he was supposed to come to the front of the room to be introduced. The new student stopped behind Draco, was had begun to butter a new piece of toast and was carefully ignoring the presence of another behind him.

"Draaaaaakey," began Dario, in a singsong voice that made Draco cringe slightly and caused the Potions Master to grimace all the way up at the Head Table. Despite his apparent pain at hearing the tone of voice that his name was being said in, Draco continued to resolutely prepare his toast for his demise. "Drakey-waaaaaakey..."

Draco's eye twitched.

Dario growled, raising his voice before trying again. "Draconis Marlon Elvio Malfoy!" he snapped, and Draco sat a bit straighter in his seat, turning around slowly with dread evident on his face. "That's better. Now, 'vio, are you going to explain to me why you never told me the school I was visiting was yours?" Draco shook his head almost imperceptibly. "No? Then are you going to try to explain why you were ignoring me?" Another head shake. Dario made a noise that sounded suspiciously like 'harrumph' before shoving the stunned looking Goyle to one side with deceptively skinny arms and sitting down next to the annoyed looking blond. "You can ignore me all you like, 'vio," he muttered to Slytherin table at large, "but I'll get you to talk. I have my ways, and you know it."

Draco paled.

For once, the Gryffindor table was completely silent. They had been just as enraptured by the new student as everyone else, and it was a blow - to everyone - that he liked Malfoy. Malfoy, of all people! No one liked Malfoy! His own House didn't like him. The very idea of liking Malfoy was so ridiculous that no one had ever really considered it before.

"Great, another one," muttered Ron, viciously decapitating a sausage. When the people around him looked more, rather than less confused, he swallowed and continued his thought. "Another fun-sized Death Eater who's too pretty for his own good." Eyebrows shot up all around the table. "Well he is!" Ron remarked defensively, before turning resolutely back to eating.

Dumbledore looked uncomfortable. The new student was supposed to like Harry, not Draco. From the look of things, however, Dario didn't belong in Slytherin. He was much too open - and happy looking - to be in that House. Dumbledore had been planning on rooming Dario with the male prefects of whatever House he was placed in, but since Draco was Head Boy, and therefore had more privacy, it would only make sense to put them together, if the newcomer was Sorted into Slytherin. Professor McGonagall had already brought forward the Sorting Hat, and everyone had seen it. It was a little too late for him to put it back.

The cat animagus was already standing behind the transfer student, ready to determine which House he would be sleeping in for the remainder of his stay. Dumbledore nodded benevolently at her. He was relatively confident that the Hat wouldn't place him in Slytherin...

Professor McGonagall lowered the Hat down onto Dario's head. He looked surprised, glancing nervously over at the blond, who managed to give him a reassuring grin - almost causing a few heart attacks over at Gryffindor table - before all of Dario's attention was taken up by the talking head ornament that was shuffling through his mind. Several tense moments passed as Dumbledore began mentally berating himself for not just shoving Dario into Gryffindor. It would have made his life a whole lot easier. Even Draco was beginning to look a little worried - not that anyone but Snape (and maybe Dario, had he been paying attention) would have been able to tell.

The Hat finally twitched for a moment, before its 'mouth' opened and yelled out, "Slytherin!"

"Thank Taro," muttered a relieved looking blond as the Hat was removed from the Spanish boy's curly hair.

"Is that good, 'vio?" asked Dario, a hint of an accent entering his voice as he glanced over at Draco.

"Well," he responded, putting down his toast and finally turning to look at Dario. "That depends, I suppose, on your definition of 'good'. It means we'll have classes together, and you won't have to room with Potter's House, which is probably what Dumbledore was expecting to happen..."

Dario's brow furrowed. "Potter?" he asked, tilting his head to the side and studying Draco's expression. "Isn't that the boy you've been assigned to pr-mmph!" His mouth was suddenly full of toast, which Draco seemed to mourn. He had been lavishing attention on that piece of toast, under the impression that he would finally be allowed to eat it. Unfortunately, he had been forced to use it as a distraction.

"Not. Here." He said, enunciating each word and carefully not looking at his classmates.

About to ask a question, Dario was stopped by Dumbledore's disapproving voice. "Mister Casta," he began, glaring at Draco, who hadn't really done anything today to merit it, other than shoving toast into his friend's mouth. Wasn't that a nice thing for him to do? Weren't you supposed to feed your friends? "It would appear that, as a Slytherin, you are going to be living with the Head Boy. Meet your new roommate, Mr. Casta, Draconis Marlon Elvio Malfoy." There was a tinge of humor to his tone, and Draco growled at Dario.

"What, 'vio?"

"Did you know, Toni, that no one knew my full name? It is not something that I like to share, and you just had to go blurt it out in front of the Great Hall."

To anyone who had gone to school with Draco for the past six and a half years, it was obvious that the conversation would soon escalate into a fist fight, or at least a wizarding duel. Instead, the corner of Dario's mouth twitched up into what could almost resemble a smile. "It serves you right, you know, for that incident over the summer."

Draco tried his best to look innocent, which made Ron choke on his own toast. Not that Draco noticed. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Toni. Maybe if you reminisced about it in a loud voice it would help me to remember..."

"Not happening, Malfoy."

Draco rolled his eyes and stood. He hadn't gotten a piece of toast yet, but Dario was much better than toast. Grabbing onto the other boys dark arm, he yanked him from his chair and began on his way out of the Great Hall. "C'mon, you big baby. I'll show you your room. My room, actually, that I'm kindly allowing you to borrow. No shoes on the bed, no food on the bed, and do be careful where you throw your clothing. We don't want to have another fire incident, do we?"

Everyone in the Great Hall was stunned. Was Malfoy just being nice to someone else? That went against the rules of Hogwarts, or something! Or at least it should. Privately, Harry thought that it was the pain-killing medication that Madame Pomfrey must have given the blond when she restitched his shoulder. He knew from experience that sometimes, her potions could cause light-headedness that made people more prone to be friendly to everyone. That was the only logical explanation that Harry could come up with, and he supposed that it made sense enough.

The Great Hall was still deathly quiet. Everyone, to a man, was staring at the door that Draco Malfoy and Dario Casta had left through. Even the Slytherins looked a little lost. Harry could practically hear their thoughts. Who was this person? Why hadn't Malfoy told them about him? (Harry could answer that one; Malfoy disliked all the Slytherins.) Why wasn't he so nice to them? (See previous answer, thought Harry with a wry grin.) And how should they get into the Head Boy's room in order to molest the newest arrival? That was probably the most important of the questions, and it was inevitable that one of them would manage to figure it out eventually.

While the rest of his table began to slowly regain their fervor for food and talk, Harry was still quietly musing on the event that had just occurred. He was almost positive that Malfoy and Dario had been talking about him, before the former had shoved a piece of toast into the darker wizard's mouth. They hadn't been loud enough for anyone that wasn't sitting within three or four feet of them to hear, but judging from the way that Malfoy had glanced over at the Gryffindor table and the hurry with which he had shut his friend up, it was obvious. Couldn't have everyone hearing just how much Malfoy disliked the Wizarding world's hero, because it wasn't blatantly obvious anyway. Harry snorted into his cider. If Malfoy didn't want people realizing how much they disliked each other, maybe he should stop being such an arrogant bastard.

Psh. Like that would ever happen.

For a teenage male, Draco had an incredibly clean room. Admittedly, that may have had something to do with how anal he was about everything being neat. Although "neat" was really not the right word for it. He just didn't like seeing things that looked dirty. Even having his own underwear shoved in a corner on the floor made him a little nauseous.

The floor in his room was actually carpeted, in a dark grey, almost charcoal color, unlike most of Hogwarts, where wooden or stone floors were the norm. There was stone around Draco's fireplace, true, but only for a few feet. The stone floor was more than made up for by the cheerful crackling of the fire. It was, apparently, the only entrance to the entire room. Draco knew, naturally, that he shouldn't really have such a private room. Students were supposed to be able to reach their Head Boy when the head of house was unavailable. Draco had been in other single rooms - they all had doors.

It wasn't something he was going to complain about, though. Draco, an only child, had grown up with a considerable amount of privacy, and returning every year to Hogwarts, where he was forced to share a room with three other people, was horrific at best. If the person that he was being forced to share with had been anyone but Dario, there was no doubt in Draco's mind that he would have pitched a fit and owled his father, no matter how much he disliked the man.

"This is it, Toni," he announced, spreading his arms wide as he stepped out of the fireplace. There was already another bed set up on the opposite wall, with Dario's trunk at its foot. "The only way in is by floo, and the name is 'Lair of the White Serpent', for some reason that Dumbledore won't tell me. It won't respond to 'Draco's Room', 'Dario's Room', or any variation of the two, And I swear, Toni, if you give anyone the name of my room, and I mean anyone, I will personally gut you and dangle you off the Astronomy Tower by your innards. Is that clear?"

Dario only nodded, grinning. "Not nearly as roomy as your wing back at the Manor," he remarked, "but it'll do." After a few moments, his gaze turned disgusted. "Lair of the White Serpent?" he asked, sarcasm dripping from every word. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Damned if I know."

"Hmph. I don't think I can live somewhere called 'Lair of the White Serpent'. I feel dirty. Does 'Lair of the White Serpent' have its own shower, too? Maybe 'Pool of the Orange Unicorn'?"

Draco smirked, sitting cross-legged on the edge of his bed and watching his friend. "I asked the same thing. Apparently, we're just supposed to use the Prefect's Bathroom. It'll be spelled to let you in, I'd assume. But Dario," a more serious look appeared on his face, "I wasn't kidding, you know. If anyone ends up in my room I'll blame you."

"Find, 'vio, fine. I'll make sure to go to someone else's room. Voyeurism isn't polite anyway, Draco, and you know it."

"They're friends! I thought my year couldn't get any worse, with Malfoy being Head Boy and all, but suddenly he has friends?! I didn't even know he had friends! And worse, it's a transfer student, so everyone's going to be nice to him. The Ferret's gonna be able to get away with murder, with Casta as his accomplice!"

Harry stiffened, and Ron immediately looked ashamed of himself. Instead of rushing off to wallow in guilt, as he had been prone to doing periodically over the last year and a half, he glanced curiously at Ron. "No friends? At all?"

Ron only shook his head. "Nope. He's even managed to push away Crabbe and Goyle. Why'd you think I was finally able to get a hit in?"

Harry shrugged, still looking curious. "I always just kind of assumed that you'd been practicing or something. Not that his bodyguards had deserted him." Curious look disappearing, Harry began to feel a bit concerned. He was, overall, a nice person, and didn't like seeing people unhappy, even if they happened to be Malfoy.

Ron, however, only looked smug. "They deserted him alright. Left him completely alone. Even the Slytherins are picking on him. Have been all year!"

Harry was alarmed. "The Slytherins have turned against him?" he hissed, voice rising to an even louder volume. "Why would they do that?" Harry decided, then and there, that he was going to have to start paying attention to the things going on around him. If he had missed something that important, then something was definitely wrong.

"They finally realized what a bastard he is, I think."

"Ronald Weasley!"

"What, 'mione? You know it's true!"

"That's not the point, Ron. It's not a nice thing to say."

"He's not nice!"

"Also not the point. Besides, he hasn't been so mean this year. Almost civil. I think he's only insulted me twice, and it's halfway through December."

"Maybe he hasn't been so bad because his henchmen left him."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Even before that, he wasn't so bad."

Harry rolled his eyes as well. They were back to ignoring him. They did that whenever they got into a fight - all of their energy seemed focused on not leaping forward and molesting the other. The unresolved sexual tension was astonishing. Harry was incredibly surprised that a) they hadn't gotten together already (little did he know, poor, naïve Harry) and b) they were arguing like this right outside the Great Hall. They would normally wait to get back to the common room before doing this. The black-haired boy shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. He really didn't like standing out in public with his two best friends standing less than a foot away from each other, glaring and whispering furiously.

There was a quiet cough behind him. Harry spun, only to be confronted with the sight of Malfoy and Casta, standing beside each other and wearing matching bland smiles. Malfoy glanced over at his Spanish friend.

"Gryffindor exhibit one," he drawled by way of explanation, as Ron and Hermione realized he as there and stopped talking, heads snapping around. "This is the Gryffindor mating ritual, Toni, pay close attention. They argue until Potter there gets tired of it and goes away, then they leap into the nearest room and hump like bunnies." Harry's two friends were bright red, but didn't deny any of Malfoy's accusations, which surprised Harry. "Unless, of course," Draco continued in a confidential tone, "the Quidditch bleachers are deserted" Turning his attention back to the red-faced couple, Draco smirked. "Next time I would suggest something to keep people from wandering past. I do believe that I'm permanently scarred." Without waiting for a response from the Trio, Malfoy continued down the corridor towards an unsuspecting group of Hufflepuff second years.

The three of them watched him for a moment before Harry slowly turned to face his friends, who had started backing up. After a pause of an indeterminable amount of time, one of Harry's eyebrows laboriously rose. He was obviously trying to stay very calm, but his patience was wearing thin. "Ron, Hermione, is there something you would like to tell me?" he asked in a deceptively sweet tone.

They gulped and latched onto each other, grasping their partners hand like a life line. "Well, Harr-" began Ron, before Hermione squeezed his hand, hard. He winced, but stopped.

"We were going to tell you Harry, I'm so sorry that you had to hear about us through Malfoy!" Harry's other eyebrow shot up, and Hermione hurried on. "It's not that we didn't want to tell you, because that's not it at all! We just thought that since you were so busy with studying and Quidditch and all, we just didn't want to distract you." It was a stupid excuse, and they both knew it. Harry, though, also knew the real reason that they didn't tell him - they finally had something special, just for themselves, and they were afraid that the Boy Who Lived would swoop in and snatch it away,

They must have also thought that he'd react 'adversely'. Harry snorted, which seemed to alarm his two friends, since they both stepped back involuntarily.

Seeing that, Harry managed to lower his eyebrows and forced a smile onto his face. "It's wonderful Ron, 'mione!" he exclaimed, although inwardly he was fuming. Of course he would be mad that his two best friends kept something this momentous from him! "I always knew you two'd end up together!" Well, that explained why they hadn't noticed that he hadn't been spending much time with them. They didn't care about him anymore. They had each other. Forcing down a sudden surge of tears, Harry congratulated them both again and ran down the corridor.

He was painfully aware that neither of them watched him go, eyes only focused on each other.

A/N: Yes, an original character. I know, I suck. Normally, I hate people who do original characters But don't hate me! He's only a convenient plot device, he'll leave soon! He's only really important for one more chapter, and then he'll go back to Spain. I swear.