Prologue

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"So it's true, then." a voice said. Harry looked over to see a pale boy with silver-grey eyes and slicked back blonde hair. "What they're saying on the train." The pale boy smirked. His gaze made the eleven-year-old feel like disappearing into the ground. 

"Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts."

Immediately, the room filled with rustling robes and whispers of "Harry Potter?"

"This is Crabbe," the pale boy said, nodding to a chubby boy standing on his right. "And Goyle." he continued, nodding to another taller, just as ugly, smirking boy who was standing next to Crabbe.

"And I'm Malfoy." the pale boy said again, walking over to where Harry was standing. "Draco Malfoy."

Harry heard a snort from where Ron was standing, and Draco's accusing gaze was turned towards the redhead standing next to him. "Think my name's funny, do you?" he asked. Looking quickly down at his clothes, he scowled distastefully."No need to ask yours. 

"Red hair," he said, his eyebrows raising slightly. "And a hand-me-down robe. 

"You must be a Weasley." he spat.

Unsure of what was so bad about being a Weasley, their family seemed alright, he almost opened his mouth to ask, but was silenced by the glare returning to him and turning into a haughty scowl.

"You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter."

Turning his gaze on Ron, the permanent scowl grew. "You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort." Ron only stared at him.

Looking back at Harry, he did a half-smile and held out his hand. "I can help you there."

Looking up at the boy, he took a minute to be awed at the amount of confidence Draco seemed to have. He sensed that the entire room was waiting for his answer, and made his decision.

Looking down at the hand and then back up at Draco's face, he said "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks." Congratulating himself at how coolly he had pulled that off, he laughed inwardly as Ms. McGonagall had returned, and was now looking at Draco as he scurried back to his spot. 

Later, he watched nervously as Draco was called up to be sorted. The hat had barely touched his head when it yelled out "SLYTHERIN!" 

The smile on Draco's face- a real smile this time- grew impossibly wide, as he proudly marched over to the Slytherin Table. Hermione had already been sorted into Gryffindor, that left only Ron before him. 

"Ronald Weasley."

The verdict was Gryffindor.

"Harry Potter."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The entire Gryffindor table lept up and started cheering, especially Hermione, and Ron and his brothers.

Once the feast began, he turned quickly to look at Draco. He was once again flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, who had also been put into Slytherin.

For some strange reason, his eyes met Draco's, who was looking directly at him with a real smile on his face. 

Feeling his face heat up, he turned back to his food, and pledged to forget about the minuscule butterflies that he was feeling.

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