Chapter Text
The first time Harry saw him was coming up the steps of Gringotts as he was going down. The Bank was magnificent, it held so much attention that Harry almost missed the boy with white blonde hair and silvery gray eyes, but they bumped into each other, and years later, Harry would be thankful that they had. At the time, however, the other boy sneered, “watch where you’re going,” without stopping. Harry didn’t have a chance to apologize as they were swept in opposite directions.
Harry didn’t think about the boy once he was inside the bank, but less than an hour later, Hagrid left Harry at Madam Malkin's’ with a blush and a mumbled excuse. When Harry followed a helpful lady to the back where there was a fitting area, he was startled and happy to find the Blonde Boy there. It appeared he was happy to see Harry as well, for a smile stretched across his face, and although he looked condescending, it lit up his face enough Harry didn’t mind.
“It’s you!” The boy exclaimed.
Harry shrugged as he stepped up on the stool. “It’s me.”
“Glad to see you figured out how to walk. What’s your name?” Instead of being upset, Harry snorted at that, glad he had found someone who had a similar sense of humor.
“Harry.” Harry said simply, not really wanting a repeat of the scene in the Leaky Cauldron. “What’s yours?”
“I’m Draco. Are you a First Year, too?” Draco turned slightly so a sales girl could hem the side of his robe.
“Yeah.” He was being boring. No one his age had ever wanted to talk to him for long, so he didn’t have a lot of experience with interesting conversation. What should he say? While he was trying to come up with something, Draco went on talking about where his mother and father were and after that, the houses at Hogwarts.
“I don’t know,” Harry answered when Draco asked what house he was going to be in. “What’s the difference?”
“Well,” Draco drawled, “Slytherin is the best of course, then you have Ravenclaw, bunch of know-it-alls, Hufflepuffs are dunderheads, then you have Gryffindors. They’re the enemies of Slytherins, all brave and noble.” The last part was said in a mocking voice.
“Oh,” Said Harry, starting to feel a little bad. There was nothing really wrong about this boy, but he was rubbing Harry the wrong way. He didn’t like it when people were mean to each other, even if no one it applied to was in the room. What if he ended up in one of the other Houses? “How do you know which house you get into?”
“I don’t know,” Draco grudgingly admitted. “My Father says it’s important to expect the unexpected, so he didn’t tell me, but I think it’s some kind of test.”
“A test?” Harry blanched. He was doomed. “I bet I’ll fail, and they won’t even let me in.” His heart began to hammer away in his chest, he would have sat down if someone wasn’t at his feet still working on his robes.
“Hey,” Draco said suddenly, all signs of condescension melting from him. He was facing Harry now as the seamstress worked on his left side. “I’m sure it’ll be ok. I’ve never heard of anyone being enrolled only to kick them out before classes even start. I bet you’ll be in Slytherin with me.”
“Really?” Harry asked, feeling better now that Draco wasn’t being mean. Maybe he had misjudged him.
“Yeah. You just need to be brilliant, and you are, so obviously, you’re in.” There was an air of prestige with him again, but this time it was directed towards Harry. Maybe Draco was just nervous, and he had a mask that was his way of coping. Harry tended to get quiet and fidgety when he was nervous, it drove Aunt Petunia mad.
“Thanks, I bet you’re right.”
“What are friends for? And you bet I’m right, remember that, because it’s always true.”
Harry laughed, actually laughed, even if it was really breathy. Were they really friends? His first real friend his own age of his very own. He was afraid his grin might split his face.
“All done!” The girl working on Draco’s robes announced. “I’ll bring these to the register for you, if you want to look around some more.”
Draco waved her off, coming to stand next to Harry, staring critically at his robes. “This needs to come in another two inches,” he said, pinching the cuffs in how he wanted them.
The woman who was working on his robes scowled, “I don’t need help, dearie, why don’t you look around?”
Harry would have it were him. Apparently, Draco didn’t mind confrontation. “He’s paying good gold for these robes and he deserves to get them fitted properly. Or should he go somewhere a seamstress can take a critique?”
The Seamstress bit her lip but nodded slightly. “Are you wearing anything under this sweater, dear? It would be fitted better without it.” Oh, that was bad. Oh, a bad situation had just unfolded.
Harry had bruises on his arms from his latest bouts with Dudley and the Dursleys, and if his shirt rode up, they would see even more. As he stammered, Draco rolled his eyes. “Just go to the dressing room, go on.”
More thankful than he could believe, Harry hopped off the stool and raced towards the door Draco had pointed to. He changed quickly, leaving his trousers on, and was back on the stool in no time.
“See that’s better already.” Harry’s stomach did a strange flip at Draco’s approval.
“You’ll be wearing clothing under the robes,” the seamstress pointed out, perhaps trying to gain favor in the conversation but Draco didn’t acknowledge her.
“Why are you wearing muggle clothes anyway? Are they supposed to be so big?” Draco picked up the sweater Harry had been wearing between his pointer and thumb, face screwed up in a look of disgust.
“No, I just get most of my clothes from hand-me-downs from my fat cousin.” He really got all his clothes that way, but Draco didn’t need to know that.
Draco laughed, dropping the sweater. “We’ll have to go shopping after this, find some clothing that fits. You’ll need it for when you’re not wearing uniforms, and I won’t be seen in your company if you’re wearing that.”
Harry was glad he had gotten to know Draco enough that he could realize Draco was mostly joking…. right?
"You're not a Mudblood, are you?" Draco asked suddenly, as if the thought had just occurred to him.
"I don't know what that is," Harry confessed, nervous now.
"Someone with muggle parents."
"Oh," Harry sighed in relief. "No, both my parents were wizards."
"Then why--"
“Draco!” A voice came from the door. It belonged to a beautiful woman who had to be Draco’s mother or older sister, with her long blonde hair and haughty expression. “Are you finished yet?” She asked as she got closer.
“Yes, mother, I was just waiting on my friend. We were going to get some clothes for him.”
Draco’s mother’s eyes roved over Harry briefly, went back to Draco, then immediately returned to Harry’s forehead. They widened, but that was the only indication that she noticed who Draco’s new friend was. “Lovely,” She said in a charming voice, “but your father is waiting. I’ll purchase your robes, you say goodbye to your friend.”
She was leaving when Draco protested, “But Mother-!”
“Draco.” Was all she needed to say, in a scary mother tone of voice, for Draco to quieten.
After she had left, Draco turned back to Harry, a slightly sheepish expression on his face. “Well, I’ll see you on the train at least. Promise me you’ll buy a couple extra outfits, alright?”
Harry nodded, wondering if there was a spell to hide things. He didn’t want the Dursleys to take his new clothes. He watched as Draco left, his mother’s hand on his shoulder leading him out.
Harry managed to find a section that sold non-robes wizard wear and added enough for a week.
***
The rest of the summer passed quickly, at the same time as a snail’s pace, because Harry simply couldn’t wait to go to school. He read and re-read all his school books and the couple other books he had purchased for extra-curricular. He had entered Flourish and Blotts with a goal in mind, to find as many books as possible about the magical world, and at least one on concealing objects. The shopkeeper had recommended several for what Harry asked, and Harry picked the biggest ones.
He had found a fairly simple spell for keeping the Dursleys away from his belongings and after a few attempts succeeded. At least he figured it worked, since they didn’t attempt to come near the magical belongings.
He also attempted a couple of the first-year spells as he didn’t want to look like a dunderhead on his first day, not being able to do any magic would be awful.
Harry wondered idly if it was the spell that made his Uncle throw his trunk on the sidewalk next to him before driving off laughing with his wife and son. Probably not, he concluded as he dragged his trunk over to a cart.
He found Platform 9 easily enough, and 10, but there was no 9 ¾. After a rather heated discussion with a conductor, he began to panic.
“...Packed with Muggles of course. Come on!” came a voice floating to Harry, and it was one of the most wonderful things he had ever heard. ‘Muggle’ was a wizarding term, which meant that the red-haired family heading towards him and Platform 9 were wizards.
***
He had tentatively made friends with Ron when he saw the blonde, drawling boy again. Draco, his mind supplied helpfully.
He smiled when he saw him through the window of the compartment door, but it quickly vanished when he saw the look on Draco’s face. Gone was the charming boy he had realized Draco was in the later part of their meeting. In his place was a practically snarling, cruel looking boy, flanked by two large boys with condescending expressions.
“Well, well, well. Look what we have here.” He drawled, looking down his nose at the boys. “Weasley. Trying to rub elbows with the rich and famous. And you, Potter. Don’t you know anything about his family? More children than they could ever hope to afford. You’d do better to find better suited friends. Like a Ferret, at least it’s a couple steps up from a Weasel.”
They were stunned for a moment, but Ron jumped up, fist barred, “Say that again!”
“Why, you too stupid to hear or do you have dirt in your ears as well as on your nose?”
“Get out!” Harry yelled. “And don’t come back!”
Malfoy sneered at both of them, “I’m not sure I want to. Look at all this food you have. I bet you tried to buy him off, Potter. Guess you did know how poor he is. OW!” He had buried his hand in the pile of sweets and come out with a rat biting his finger. He screamed and swung his hand around trying and succeeding in knocking it off.
“On second thought, we were just leaving,” he was gone, pushing the two burly boys out of the way in his haste.
Ron was laughing, but Harry just stood there staring at the empty doorway. Why had Draco changed so much? Which one was the real Draco?
“I can’t believe it, he’s gone back to sleep!” Ron said about his rat, Scabbers.
Harry didn’t comment. He just closed the compartment door.
***
Draco continued to torment Harry and his friends throughout the year. Harry went to his lessons, there was Draco, sneering at him through most of them. Harry made friends with Hermione, after Draco had called her some mean name. Harry got on the quidditch team, thanks to Draco’s cruelty. Harry learned about the Philosopher’s Stone after Draco challenged him to a duel and didn’t show up. Harry got detention in the Forbidden Forest and met Voldemort, again thanks to Draco. It seemed like everything that happened to him that year was somehow, or another related to Draco.
Through it all, Harry mourned the loss of his friend, his first friend, and the nice boy hidden under that ugly exterior. Not that Malfoy was physically ugly, in fact he seemed to get more and more beautiful. It wasn’t fair. Harry wanted to forget about that boy he had met in Madam Malkin’s, but it was just impossible. As time went on, however, the pain he had associated with losing his friend began to dull and became easier to deal with.
It was after the battle for the Philosopher’s Stone that Harry found himself wandering the hallways with no obvious intent. Usually, Ron and Hermione were with him, but he felt like being by himself for once. He was so used to being alone before Hogwarts it was nice in a way to be alone now. He never would have guessed he would crave isolation.
It would have to wait however, because up ahead in the corridor was Draco Malfoy, who had just turned a corner and was heading towards Harry. He groaned inwardly and considered turning around, but he was a Gryffindor, and he would not be seen as a coward. Maybe Malfoy wouldn’t cause trouble this time.
Harry thought that sarcastically, never thinking in a million years that Malfoy actually wouldn’t cause trouble, but that was exactly what he did. He walked right past Harry, avoiding his eyes, a rather forlorn expression on his face. It reminded Harry of Draco, the nice boy he had met however briefly.
Draco turned the corner where Harry had come from, disappearing from view without a word, and something inside Harry made him chase after him without his brain’s acknowledgement.
“Hey, Malfoy!” Harry called, “what, no snarky comment? No trying to trip me, or shove me? What gives?”
Malfoy stopped, turned, but still couldn’t meet Harry’s eyes. “Not today, Potter.”
He took a couple more steps forward before Harry caught up to him. It was strange, walking in silence with Draco.
“Why not?” Harry asked quietly. He wondered briefly why he was bothering with him.
Draco stayed quiet, only briefly glancing up. That incited Harry’s temper. He quickened to get in front of him, forcing Draco to stop. He finally met Harry’s eyes, and they were terrified.
Harry’s question died in his throat. “What’s wrong with you?” turned into “What’s wrong?” Draco only bit his lip and looked down, but Harry caught that there were tears welling in his eyes.
Slowly, hesitatingly, he brought his hands up until they were gripping Malfoy’s shoulders. “Draco?”
Just as slowly, Draco’s head came up again, his lip being bitten lightly. “I’m sorry, Potter.”
Harry stared, “What?”
“I’m sorry. About everything.”
“What?” Harry repeated stupidly, as Draco tried to get away.
Draco sighed, and took a deep breath. “I don't want to keep this up anymore. It’s too hard. So, I’m sorry about all the times I’ve done my best to make your life hell. Just leave me alone and I’ll do the same for you.”
“I don’t understand.” Harry said slowly. “What do you mean about keeping this up? And why would I want you to leave me alone? Why can’t we just get along like we did in…”
As Harry trailed off, Draco’s lips stretched into a smile. “Madam Malkin’s?” he sighed again. “Potter...after I left, my mother told me who you were. The famous Harry Potter. I wanted to go back and talk to you again, but Mother took me to Father, who took me home. Mother finished my shopping and Father...He made it clear that I was not to be seen getting along with you. So, we can’t be friends. I’m sorry.”
Before Harry could do anything about it, or even process what he had said, Draco had ripped himself out of Harry’s grasp and was running down the corridor, leaving a stunned Harry behind him.