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Chapter Text

He was tall, and broad-shouldered, and always somewhere dark; the edges of his being frayed and spilling into his environment thanks for his black shirt and pants. His hair was darker even than the room he seemed to spend so much time in, and while long it couldn't be said precisely how long, as it blended in with the rest of him. The only parts of him that could be seen in any clarity were his pale, scarred hands, stained at the tips of his fingers, and what parts of his face weren't covered by his hair.

This is the man that boy had been dreaming of nearly every night for quite a long time, almost a whole year if he was keeping track correctly. Otherwise he tended not to have dreams, had never really had dreams - not after he woke up in the middle of the night from his Uncle Vernon's fists banging on the door, and then his back, yelling about waking the whole house up. Boy was very lucky that he was able to stop dreaming after that.

Boy was lucky in other ways too; he was lucky that he knew how to behave properly, he'd been so good recently that he was able to wear clothes almost all the time. He was lucky that he was so small, otherwise the cupboard he was kept in wouldn't fit him and he'd be very uncomfortable. He was lucky that he had something to dream about, something to keep him occupied now that he'd long grown bored of playing with the small handful of broken toy soldiers he hid behind a loose panel of his cupboard, something to look forward to every night. Even if he didn't always manage to be good enough to earn food, or water, or bathroom breaks, he was always able to dream of the dark man.

He was still thinking about his dreams when he heard through his door, a tapping sound. like a bird was pecking at the window. It took only a few more repeats of this sound before he heard his Aunt Petunia muttering to herself, the click of her heels on the floor notifying him of her passing his cupboard and presumably going to the source of the tapping.

He heard her open the window, gasp, and then he heard a bird. He heard a bird's wings flapping, and a hoot, and then it was, apparently, gone. Then he heard his Aunt going upstairs, and it was quiet...until it wasn't.

That night boy wasn't being kept in his cupboard, but in a small, dusty old cot in the far corner of an isolated cabin by the ocean. There had been so many letters, all adressed to 'Harry Potter, in the Cupboard Under the Stairs, No. 4, Privet Drive' as far as he knew from how his Aunt had shrieked about it. "How do they know?! Who told them?!" She had been inconsolable for a long time, until Uncle Vernon had brought up going on a family vacation, which is how boy ended up in an actual cot for the first time.

He was cold, but that was offset by warmth of the cot; he had been confined to it for over an hour and it was starting to warm with boy's body heat. Though, he thought perhaps he should start thinking of himself as 'Harry'? that's what the letter had apparently said, and the letter was for him. So, yes, he should think of himself as 'Harry' rather than 'boy.' 

Suddenly, cruelly ripping bo-Harry out from his thoughts again, there was a letter coming through the slot on the door, even though Uncle Vernon had blocked it off earlier, and a knock on the door. And another knock, and another and then the door was ripped from its hinges, the Dursleys cowering in fear, while b...Harry kept himself quietly tucked in his cot in the corner, hiding himself in the shadows of the room.

"Which one of you'd be Harry Potter?" a great big man asked, wrapped in layers of coats and sweaters, his face almost completely out of sight with a great big curly beard and hair, he looked both intimidating and kind, and held in his hand a pink umbrella. The man looked around the room, landing on Dudley. "Are you Harry? I'm Hagrid, Rubeus Hagrid, and I'm here to escort you to Hogwarts! It's a bit last-minute but the Headmaster wants you to make it on time, and you haven't responded to the letters. Well? Get up!"

Dudley did not get up. Dudley sat there, staring dumbly at the large man - Hagrid - and then started sobbing. To his credit, Hagrid didn't panic, only looked towards Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. When they were also rendered speechless by him, Harry decided to come out of his place in the corner.

He had been told to sit in his cot, and not move, but Harry figured that Hagrid's orders would trump the Dursley's orders in this moment, seeing how it would overall reduce stress and be easier for everyone involved. So, Harry stood up, walked towards Hagrid and said a simple "Hullo."

Hagrid spun back around instantly, surprised by the boy since he didn't see Harry earlier. "Oh, Hello little one. Are...are you Harry Potter?" He stared down at the boy, that couldn't be right, he looked barely 9 years old, though he had the large circular glasses and looked just like James did when he was young...he just looked so small.

When the boy nodded yes, Hagrid gave him a large smile, hoping to soften the harshness of his sheer size, after what happened with the other boy. When Harry gave him a small smile back, not only did his heart melt right there in his chest, but there was also a sputtering sound from the man standing off to the side with his wife, Vernon Dursley.

He was an impressive height, and even more impressive width - for a human man - though he was still human and Hagrid still towered over him. "Excuse me! What on earth are you doing here? Me and my family are on a vacation, after your kind's bloody birds kept flocking towards our house, harrassing us! Leave at once, or I'll have to call the authorities on you!"

Hagrid didn't have time for this. He still had to go to the bank and withdraw the stone, and then take Harry to Hogwarts, and then get Harry his stuff. There was simply too much to do, since Professor Dumbledore spent almost a full month waiting to send Harry his letter, after there was a commotion amongst the professors over where the boy's letter was adressed.

"I just need to take little Mr. Harry Potter to Hogwarts and I'll be on my way, sir. No need for trouble!" he smiled and kept his tone genial, hoping to be able to just take the boy and go.

The friendliness hadn't worked out. It still took a lot of force, and intimidation, and time. But, finally, he had taken Harry onto the knight bus, and they had gone to the Leaky Cauldron, and then Diagon Alley, and gotten Harry his things and he even managed to take a trip to the bank before they left for Hogwarts.

And now, here there were.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Harry! This'll be your new home from now on!"

Chapter Text

When the Dursleys had finally been persuaded to let boy leave, he had been told that he was supposed to have gotten his letter on July 31st, a month before school started. He had, however, only gotten his first letter on that day; September first. It was going to be alright, they had a bit of time yet before the official starting time for the school year, boy was just going to have to be apparated - that was a magical kind of transporting, Hagrid had said, and all boy would have to do was just hold onto Hagrid's hand, and they'd be by the school when the time came. 

When Hagrid took Harry to Diagon Alley they went straight to Gringotts, the bank. The security was tight and Harry had to spend his time either with Hagrid and the goblin accompanying him, or on benches in the main room of the bank, which were in full view of the goblins at desks. Hagrid looked like he expected Harry to be upset about being left in the main room while Hagrid did some Secret Hogwarts Business, but he was quite alright to sit down for a while before they went on a large shopping trip. 

As Harry finally settled in and got ready to sit on his bench for a while, someone bumped into him, though he was quite confident before then that you couldn’t bump into someone who was sitting down by themselves. “Ow! Who-” a boy around Harry’s age looked up from his hands, obviously not expecting Harry to be sitting on the bench where he was, he had just knocked knees with Harry quite aggressively. He probably would’ve knocked the bench instead had Harry not been there, he was so immersed with the book he was reading. 

The boy was taller than Harry, and was almost pure white aesthetically; he had stark white skin, with the beginnings of an embarrassed flush over his cheeks and nose the only bit of color on him. He was oddly sharp, but still had some baby fat on his face, making him look a bit like an owl. The light grey eyes and white blonde hair kept in with his achromatic theme, but it was ruined when Harry’s eyes trailed down to see the boy wearing black robes trimmed with green - the only actual color the boy was wearing. Though, to Harry's satisfaction, The sweater underneath the clumsy boy’s robes was a sweet looking off-white, like vanilla pudding. 

“What are you doing here? Nobody sits here usually,” the boy had a sort of rude tone that put Harry slightly on edge, though it was probably embarrassment that made him prickly, and not an actual want to be rude. 

“I’m waiting.” Harry responded calmly, hoping the other boy would settle down a bit.

“...for who?” 

“For Hagrid.”

“Who’s Hagrid?”

“He works at Hogwarts, I guess… he’s escorting me there.”

“Oh, that’s cool. My parents are sorting things out with the bank before I go to the Express, apparently a family friend-” the boy seemed to catch up with what he was saying, and stopped so suddenly Harry was sure he could hear the click of his teeth when his mouth shut. “Well, I don’t think I should say. Anyways, I was going to sit here and read.”

The boy seemed to look expectantly at Harry, his wide eyes staring great holes into Harry’s own. Harry simply stared right back at the boy with vague confusion, hoping he’d get another hint at what he wanted Harry to do.

“Can I sit here?” the pale boy finally responded, looking slightly exasperated that he had to ask.

“Yeah, sure.”

And with that, he sat down next to him, and surprisingly, they sat in a quiet, amicable silence until Hagrid came to get Harry, and he left the pale boy with a wave and a smile.

Moving out to the shopping center of Diagon Alley, Harry was absolutely enthralled by the place, crawling with people and animals and full of every shop imaginable and some Harry wouldn’t have thought up in his wildest dreams. How would he have ever even thought of a shop dedicated to making magically charmed leather? Hagrid had dragged him past that place pretty quickly, awkwardly looking anywhere but the charmed handcuffs and harnesses in the window, though Harry didn’t know why. 

Harry had been dragged all over this shopping center, where Hagrid had gotten him books and quills and parchments and ink and a trunk, and had even gotten him his very own pet, a beautiful snowy owl. By the end of it all Harry was tired, and sore, and wanted to lay down for possibly the rest of time, and it was time to apparate to Hogwarts. 

“Harry, here,” Hagrid held out his hand, and Harry took it without hesitation.

The apparating was a bit weird, it was like someone was pulling his stomach out, and his head and toes had felt really light, and then he and Hagrid had popped into existence by the edge of a huge, lush forest filled with dark shadows and rustling movement, cold adventure promised in the night's wind as tree branches and bushes swayed in the evening breeze. When Harry turned around he saw it; Hogwarts.

They were a bit of a walk away from an actual entrance, but the school was apparently residing in a castle, almost glowing in the night, and taller than anything Harry could have ever imagined. Made of deep grey stone and covered in moss and ivy at some places, other areas looked pristine and well taken care of. There were rows and rows of windows, and surely it would never end, but eventually his eyes reached the top of the castle, which had giant towers with layers of windows up to the top, looking just like windowed rooks. There were three in all, two were on one side of the castle, marking corners barely in Harry's line of sight, but they were obviously shorter than the one Harry could immediately see. It was taller by many meters than the rest of the castle, and of the other towers as well, and at the very top of that tower was an open room with no doors, only deep blue curtains. How he could see that from where he was on the ground, Harry didn’t know, but the castle was beautiful, and Harry was only shaken from his stupor by Hagrid's loud voice.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Harry! Your new home for the school year!" Harry looked up to the man, still dumbstruck by the impressive castle, and the man's smile softened, and he put his hand on Harry's shoulder, guiding him to walk alongside him. 

The walk was quite long, and apparently they had to go through the front entrance or Harry's presence would set off some nasty wards; you had to be 'sorted' or officially welcomed in some capacity in order to go through any entrance other than the main one. So they walked and walked and walked, mostly in silence, though Hagrid would occasionally find something to explain to Harry, or talk about how wonderful this Headmaster Dumbledore was. When they finally reached the entrance of the school, Hagrid squeezed his shoulder. 

"Alright, this is where I have to drop you off, inside the door’s Professor McGonagall, a nice witch who'll take you in to be sorted, I still got you here just a wee bit late," he brought his hand up and put his pointer finger and thumb almost together, leaving a bit of space for him to squint through, gesturing the 'wee bit' and making boy smile a little, "I'm not a teacher here but I am the ground's keeper, you'll see me around a bit if you look for me!" 

"Okay...bye, Mr. Hagrid," Harry said softly, looking up into the man's eyes again, and saw he was tearing up. Next thing he knew he was being pulled into a great big hug, being lifted off the ground a bit even as Hagrid bent down as far as he could. The man's embrace was surprisingly gentle, and Harry found himself returning the embrace as best as he could, and then he was set down, and ushered through the door while Hagrid held it open for him, and looked back to see him waving while the door closed. 

When Harry turned back around, he was face to face with an older woman who looked so incredibly severe and harsh, especially compared to Hagrid's kind round face and cherry nose, that Harry startled a little bit, standing stock-straight and looking up at the woman. This was probably Professor McGonagall, and as Harry's heart calmed, he started to hear voices coming through the giant double-doors she stood in front of. He couldn't hear what was being said, and he didn't dare break the woman's eye contact to get closer and try to make out any words, but he could hear the pattern of voices, and the slightly muffled quality reminded him of his cupboard, helping him to relax a bit. 

"Come here Mr Potter," the woman had a thick scottish accent, similar to Hagrid's but sharper and firmer and more proper. When she turned and began walking to a door off to the right of the large double-doors, Harry followed, trailing after her until they made it to another door, a few very nervous children standing near it. From there the noise was stronger, and he could hear a man calling out a name, and then a few seconds of silence, and then a loud shout of 'RAVENCLAW' followed by cheering. Harry looked at the woman again, hoping for some sort of guidance, but she was standing silent behind the small group of children, which now included Harry. 

So, used to having to blindly follow orders, Harry simply stood, watching as each child stepped out of the door, which Professor McGonagall opened just enough for each child to slip out, and heard as the voices continued their usual pattern, only slight differences in time before each child was sorted into one of four categories - Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin. The cheering was the loudest when a child was told Gryffindor, but each one of them always had someone cheering for them. 

When Harry was the last child in the small, dimly-lit room, McGonagall opened the door, and ushered him out, and followed him, though she moved to where the other adults were, and then he was sitting on a stool with an over-large hat on his head.

‘Ah, hello there little creature, it’s not often I get to sort a non-human,’

And with that, his sorting started.

Walking off of the platform, Harry was unsettled by the deep silence. He had no idea why everyone was so shocked by what the hat had to say, there were plenty of people excitedly sorted into every one of these ‘houses’ that the hat spoke of, no matter what color the banners above their tables were. 

Harry walked purposefully, his strides as long as they could be for how small he was, and he kept his head down, not looking up until he made it to his seat. He was behaving as perfectly as he could, wishing he wouldn’t be the subject of this great silence for much longer.

After he made it to his seat at last, the crowd seemed to recover slightly from the silence that had crept upon the room since the masses realized how long the hat was taking. Harry let himself think about his sorting, about all the information the sentient hat had told him about this school, about Harry himself.

‘Ah, hello little creature, it is not often I sort a non-human in this school. Welcome!’ 

Harry had been so confused, ‘ creature?’ he thought, wondering what on earth that meant. Wondering why their voices were carrying conversation in Harry’s head and not out loud.

‘Yes, creature. You’re not fully human - neither muggle nor wizard, neither human nor inhuman. What a lovely balance. And as for why we are conversing in your head, I am a magical hat! I go on your head, and I speak to you in your head. I sort around your memories, take a look at your person, and sort you into whichever house will be best for you using all that I see!’

‘Oh. uhm, okay…’ the boy fidgeted on the stool he was sitting on, he was still aware of his body, aware of the silence slowly descending upon the student body. The raucous laughter and loud conversations had dimmed considerably, though there was still plenty noise. ‘What, exactly, does ‘looking through my memories and personhood’ entail…?’

‘Oh, don’t worry little one. I’ve been sifting through your mind and magic this whole time. I think you would do lovely in any of the four houses, though it’s truly a toss-up for Gryffindor or Slytherin. Truly, what a balance of magic and symbolism you have. Oh, and of course you are an incubus - magically intertwined in history not only with the feline but arachnids as well! Truly magnificent…’

Harry had a very, very long conversation with the hat that proceeded much like it already had, and while he was able to get some information from it, he ended up with more questions than answers. By the end of his sorting, he was marked Slytherin. 

Harry looked up from his lap slightly, breaking his rumination to determine what, exactly, was going on around him. Finding everyone at his table looking at him, he almost lowered his gaze right back down to his lap, but sitting next to him was the boy from the bank, staring at him in almost blatant wonder and curiosity.

“Hello,” the boy looked more proper now, though it’s been only hours since that morning at the bank where he looked like any other child, more preoccupied with his book than anything else in the world. “You…you’re Harry Potter?”

“Uh, yeah. I am.” 

“Wow…” the boy looked at Harry unblinkingly now, reverting back to the curious child from that morning. 

“Hey, uh. Now that we’re in the same house and stuff, mind telling me your name? I was gone for most of the sorting.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m Draco Malfoy, nice to meet you,” he turned and offered Harry his hand, and after a few seconds Harry realized he was supposed to shake it.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Harry Potter,” and they shook hands, and it left an odd feeling in Harry’s hands and feet, like they just did something significant. 

“Yeah, I know.”