Chapter Text
Harry was ushered into the measuring room, Hagrid was left behind, browsing the ready-made pieces of clothing, going off to observe some of the more ridiculous pieces put on display. Harry wondered if what he'd said about this 'Madam Malkin' was really true, considering the absolutely ridiculous things he'd seen put on display in her shop, but, he'd never been one to turn aside new things, considering how he only ever got them very rarely, so he dutifully allowed the seamstress to guide him to stand on a stool beside another kid who was getting fitted.
The first thing he noticed about her was her platinum blonde hair, and platinum really was the right word to describe it, it was shiny in a way he hadn't thought hair could ever be in real life, the kind of hair he only ever saw on billboards or commercials on tv, the kind of beautiful hair that he knew his aunt had convinced herself she had, flowing like water as the measuring tape moved like a snake hopped up on a hundred cups of bitter beanwater. The second, as she turned around, was that she was wearing makeup, he knew makeup, his aunt wore a lot of it, and he knew what it looked like when someone wore too much makeup, and yet, somehow, it didn't make her look ridiculous like aunt Petunia. It made her green eyes look deeper and sharper, it made her gaze look a little more intimidating in a way Harry didn't think a kid his size could be.
Thick dark eyeliner, carefully cured blonde brows that were almost invisible, a slightly upturned, small nose and cheeks that were only just starting to lose the baby fat, giving space to the naturally sharper, more aristocratic features that made the confused boy immediately peg her as some sort of rich girl.
Well, there was that, and the fact that she was wearing solid gold hoop earrings. Not fake gold-plated ones, actual gold. She also had a gold locket with the vague shape of a black dragon imprinted upon it. Harry's gaze shot back up, immediately realizing he was looking at her chest, and although she was wearing a cardigan over a blouse, it still felt wrong to do that, and he felt his cheeks heating up as he cast his gaze aside when he realized the girl had turned around to look at him and was staring at him even as he very obviously and unsubtly looked her over.
"I see my locket caught your eye, it's an exquisite piece isn't it?" she said, her voice was high pitched but gently so, it wasn't the simpering tone one'd hear of someone trying to artificially sweeten their voice, if anything, he got the impression that she was trying to sound more... mature instead of trying to sound younger. Like she was actively trying to hold back the natural lilt of a childish voice, and maybe was even trying to suppress a slight lisp. "You're getting fitted for Hogwarts too?"
Well she was friendly. "Y-yes," Harry replied.
"Raise your hands dear," the seamstress spoke, "shoulder level, stick your arms out - there you go, just stay like that."
The seamstress then turned around and left his side, and Harry was then suddenly under assault from the measuring tapes, three snakes made of tape curling around him and measuring everything from his inseam to his neck width, his arms and his legs, his shoulders and his waist and his chest and everything else.
"It's incredible isn't it? They say Madam Malkin is the greatest seamstress in the Wizarding World," the blonde continued, sounding quite proud of the fact. Harry wondered if they were related, given how she was boasting. "So if you're going to Hogwarts, what house do you think you'll be in? Me, I'll be in Slytherin, of course!"
Slytherin, was it?
"You're done dear, your parents are expecting you," the seamstress spoke, coming back, looking directly at the blonde.
"Oh, is that so? Well then goodbye," the girl Harry's age was more storm than person, he figured.
"Hm... she never even introduced herself," Harry muttered to himself. Really, she hadn't even allowed him to get a word in edgewise.
The seamstress let out a light chuckle. "Don't worry your pretty little head, lots of girls get nervous around new people, boys especially... now, dear, please stick your arms forward- yeah, just like that, gotta make sure you can actually walk in these..."
....
"This is Crabbe, and he's Goyle," the pretty blonde Harry had met before introduced her companions, a very tall boy and a very wide boy. They both reminded him of Dudley, perhaps a midge smarter, at least they knew to keep their mouths shut and not say something nasty. "And I'm Malfoy, Luce Malfoy," she explained, giving Harry a, frankly, quite humorous attempt at a cool introduction.
Even had he not first met her in the robes shop, he would've been less than convinced about the image she was trying to put up.
Still, Harry at least managed not to snort, the way his companion, Ron Weasley, did.
"Something funny?" she responded, her tone turning a fair bit more icy, her features twisting, the intense gaze afforded to her by her makeup made it look almost like she could genuinely glare daggers or freeze things with a look, and the way Ron recoiled, he clearly didn't expect the vitriol directed at him just like that. "You think I'm a joke?" she spoke, acid in her tone, "hm... not that I'd need to ask who you are. Dirty red hair, hand-me-down robes, a dopey expression and no manners, a Weasley."
The way she said it, with contempt dripping from her words, made Harry think that she considered the word Weasley itself an insult. It upset him more than a bit, the Weasley family had helped him without even knowing who he was.
"You'll soon learn some people are better than others Potter... you wouldn't want to hang out with the rabble, I can help you there," she said, turning to Harry.
For some reason, he thought, for a moment, that her gaze might have softened, that the corners of her lips curled just a little bit up.
And yet... Harry felt only disdain. She was pretty. She was interesting in a way no girl he'd ever met before was. But... she was also mean and had cruel words for a family he respected. "I think I'm good, thanks."
Strangely, for a moment, he thought she might've even been a little hurt, but that must've been his imagination, because she was clearly more angry than anything else.
...
"Give it back," Harry spoke, glaring at the rich prissy girl who he'd started to develop quite the rivalry with, eyes narrowed as he followed her movement with his glasses. "That's Neville's Remembrall!"
"So you want this back, don't you Potter?" she huffed. "Then come and get it, if you dare!"
She mounted her broom, and then, so did Harry, and the chase was on. It really was exhilarating to fly. It came as naturally as breathing to Harry. Twisting his hips to turn, adjusting the position of his legs and sliding his hand up or down along the shaft to control acceleration, leaning down to decrease wind resistance, leaning back up to brake and execute a tighter turn. He was rushing along the skies and following after Malfoy, who was clearly adept at flying, but Harry could tell that he was catching her, rapidly closing the distance, following her up and alongside one of the walls of Hogwarts castle.
"You want it so bad?! Then come and get it!" Malfoy shouted, raising the glass orb in her hand, its smoky insides turning red.
It was perhaps because he was so focused on chasing after her, at looking at her, that he noticed something quite interesting.
Because of the wind and the speed and the fact that she wore her robes open as did most people, everything was fluttering, everything was raising, and, well, Harry was right behind her. He could see her childishly cute silver and green underwear and her bottom and so could everyone else. Red as a tomato, Harry almost, and keyword being almost, didn't hear someone shout "Oi, I can see Malfoy's knickers from down'ere!"
"W-what!?"
And then she was even redder than Harry, and more importantly, she was no longer concentrated, no longer thinking and no longer paying attention to what she was doing, where she was going, and more importantly, wasn't paying attention to the wall coming up in front of her.
"LOOK OUT!!" Harry screamed, panic coursing through him as he saw what would surely be a splatter.
Malfoy acted on pure instinct, and managed to avoid a head on collision, but it didn't matter, she still clipped the wall with the bristle end of her broom and it broke in half.
Pure adrenaline coursed through Harry as he blasted off at full speed, the broom creaking as it was pushed far past its due date, some cracks forming on the wooden shaft, when he saw that Malfoy began to fall. Harry managed to just about reach her as she started to go down, putting his arms under her back and the backs of her knees, and then immediately realizing his broom was also toast, its turning radius was knackered and it couldn't support Harry's weight, much less support Malfoy's weight on top of him.
"Ack- Potter!?"
With all of his strength and all of the Broom's strength, guiding it only with his hips and feet and holding onto Malfoy for her life, Harry managed to bring the broom down until about half a story up, not a small height when one's talking about Hogwarts, when it finally gave out and snapped, dropping both the Gryffindor Golden Boy and the Silver Princess of Slytherin to the ground with a powerful and mighty thud as Harry's shoes hit the ground and he bent his knees to absorb the shock, managing to hold onto Malfoy, his entire body feeling like he'd just gotten hit with hammers on both feet and the shock was still traveling.
Eyes narrowing and struggling not to cry from pain, something he was more than a little used to, Harry managed to set Malfoy down just in time for the storm known as Minerva McGonagall to come rushing down like the furies incarnate, ready to heap a ton of points upon her star student for his heroic actions, give him the reaming of his lifetime and also get him inducted into the Quidditch team.
...
Harry glared at the prissy princess. "Thanks a lot, Malfoy."
In Harry's opinion, her name suited her rather well. One of the older students had confirmed that it basically translated to 'in bad faith', which he thought was perfectly suiting to someone like her, who had somehow managed to find out that Harry, Hermione and Ron would be sending off Hagrid's pet dragon with Ron's brother Charlie to a reserve and decided it'd be a capital idea to go out to taunt them about it. Somehow, it wound up getting both Harry and his friends as well as Malfoy herself stuck with punishment duty, spread into two teams and walking about in the forbidden forest at night, illuminating the way with their wands.
"Hmph!" she actually said it, "don't start with me, Potter," she said, her tone cold as ice and more acidic than bleach, "you're the ones who were breaking the rules and somehow I'm the one getting punished for it..!"
Harry snorted. "You're the one who decided to come out and taunt us about you got us caught," he accused her, moving his wand about and illuminating the forest around them. Harry had this odd thought that the forest looked too dark for how sparse it was, it felt like the brush should be much thicker than it was, the light just wasn't going through what seemed like clear air. They didn't call it the forbidden forest for nothing.
They were still holding onto Hagrid's advice to speak no louder than a whisper, but their volume was rising slightly as their conversation, or rather discussion, became more heated.
"That's because I-"
Harry stepped into her personal space, put a hand over her mouth and pushed her against a tree, pressing his body against hers and ignoring her muffled protests, dismissing the light of his wand and putting a finger up to his lips. Shushing her with a light whisper, he gestured wit his head, tilting it to Malfoy's left, then he slowly retreated his hand.
She was breathing heavily and her face was red with anger, her eyes were only slightly less intense with less makeup, she had that resting glare, her slightly angular eye shape and the peculiar pattern of her irises, but Harry was long past being intimidated by it, or being caught in her gaze again, no, instead, he was more focused on the dark shadow that was currently chowing down on an unicorn.
Both of them looked beyond the tree. He saw it happen in slow motion, as she locked eyes with the creature, she gulped, took a step back, and stepped on a dry branch. Because of course she would, that was the worst thing that could've happened and it wasn't Harry's luck unless the worst thing that could happen, did happen.
Harry grabbed her by the hand and immediately took off running, pulling her along with himself, dragging her as he ran with all his might, lifting her when she tripped and fell, and eventually diving under a small little natural lean-to, formed under a dead tree's hollowed out trunk. She was trembling and shaking, and he knew what he had to do, grabbing her body to his and pulling her closer to himself, once more putting a hand over her mouth and grabbing her legs so she couldn't move. Her hands grabbed him as well, even put a hand over his mouth just the same as he did her, and both of them made themselves as small as possible, because they could hear it.
With a high pitched screech and a shriek of anger as well as the sound of groaning protests from the trees around them as the wind blew, the unicorn-eater passed by, thankfully not looking into the little hidey-hole that Harry and Malfoy had managed to shove themselves into before the barking and howling of Fang, Hagrid's massive hound, caused the creature to turn around and flee deeper into the forest.
It took a good few minutes for Hagrid to arrive, and by the time he did, Malfoy was still trembling, and they were still holding each other's hands... at least until Ron and Hermione arrived as well as Hagrid and Ron immediately started trading barbs with Malfoy as they typically did.
...
The house cup had changed hands last minute.
Amidst the celebrations from the house of the lions, there were many who were dissatisfied. The snakes, in particular, were already taking their pound of flesh, tearing strips out of many a lion with words sharper than any cutting spell.
"Bet it feels real good to use your fame to steal what was rightfully ours, eh Potter?"
Harry glared at the girl who spoke. Her name was Parkinson, he didn't remember her first name, she had a bit of a squashed face, and in his mind he thought she looked like one of those ugly dogs, pugs, that some people thought were inexplicably cute. Her bob cut certainly didn't help. He only remembered her because she was practically attached at the hip to Malfoy ever since the year started, even more so than the goons she bossed around.
"What's your problem?" Ron responded, glaring. The hallway wasn't super populated, but it was one of those that connected two classrooms in use so it saw enough traffic for the Lions and Snakes to cross each other's paths. "We got those points fair and square!"
"Yeah right sure you did," a boy, his name was something like Not, Nott maybe, he was very forgettable, with a very bland appearance, short dark hair and no immediately identifying features. "Of course the headmaster would help his old house!"
"Ugh, don't be ridiculous, Slytherin won the house cup last year!" Hermione defended Dumbledore's honor more than anything else, the girl looked up to the Great Headmaster Dumbledore a great deal, and Harry was more than glad to have someone like her by his side as she was a lot more eloquent than he was. "If he wanted to cheat we wouldn't even find out!"
That was also true.
"That sounds like something a cheater would say," the next one to speak was a dark haired girl who was, although prettier than Parkinson, still not particularly memorable for it. In that regard, he supposed, Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle had something the others didn't, Harry could at least put names to their faces, while that girl, Greengrass if Ron's shout was correct, was already slipping off of Harry's memory.
"Seriously, Potter? You guys had to cheat last minute?"
Malfoy's glare was... strangely subdued. She seemed almost melancholic. Strangely, Harry felt much the same. In an odd way, he could understand what she was feeling, because he felt it as well. It was like they knew they'd be going back home and would immediately be missing Hogwarts. Perhaps for different reasons, with different motivations, but, strangely enough and for once, he actually felt an odd sense of kinship with Malfoy.
"Harry?" Hermione seemed oddly pensive, her face turning into a frown.
"No," Harry finally said, shaking his head. "We can't say... but, yeah, we got the points fairly," he finally said.
"Don't think you'll repeat that next year, Potter," Malfoy finally said. "Come on, let's stop wasting our time with Scarhead and his lot," she added, turning around and very theatrically at that, making her robe flutter in a way that had Harry wondering if it was enchanted to do so. She looked over her shoulder and, weirdly, Harry thought she smiled rather cutely as she did. "See you next year."
"Yeah, we'll kick you guys' arses all over again next year," Harry promised, feeling a grin come on over his face, clenching his fist and raising it as if it making a promise.
"Just you wait, next year I'll show you what it truly means to fly, Harry," there was a slight pause, "Potter," she finished, facing back forward and then rushing off dramatically and theatrically.
"E-Eh, Luce, Luce waaait!!"
With Parkinson's call, the group of Slytherins seemed to fall in line, chasing after their leader, their anger deflated since it seemed she no longer supported their claim.
"What was that all about?" Ron huffed. "Malfoy's such a weirdo."
"Y-Yeah..." Hermione seemed utterly bemused. "A weirdo, right..." she almost hissed.