Chapter 7

Later that night, Draco huddled within his bunk, brushing off Ron and Harry.

Ron gave Harry a glance, but he saw that Harry seemed fine with leaving Draco alone to deal with his letter.

Ron might not be the brightest lumos cast, but that didn't mean he couldn't take a hint.

He knew that Draco was a pureblood, like him, but the other seemed to have been raised in the traditional pureblood way. Unlike the Weasleys, who were considered blood traitors to them, and could thus act out without any repercussions, Draco didn't have that luxury.

While his brothers and parents were probably surprised that he'd been sorted into Hufflepuff, that didn't mean he had to face their disappointment.

Draco, however, was a Malfoy, and someone that was always expected to uphold the pureblood tradition, meaning wear a mask that prevented others from seeing what they were feeling, as well as going into Slytherin.

However, against all odds, Draco had chosen to go into Hufflepuff instead, because of their trio's newfound friendship, and there was something inside Ron that squirmed knowing that he did it willingly.

He'd certainly never expected to find himself with friends this quickly, that was for sure.

However, when Ron heard the sound of muffled, stifled sobs coming from the drawn curtains, as if the inhabitant didn't want anyone to know that they were crying, Ron couldn't hold back anymore.

He was beaten to it by Harry, who very audibly flung open the blond's curtains, causing Draco's crying session to stutter as he looked at the two with humiliation etched upon his face.

"Harry, Ron…!" Draco glared at the two, but it had the effectiveness of an angrily crying kitten. That was to say, none at all. "Can't you take a hint! My curtains were drawn!"

Ron took this as the cue to speak up. He sniffed in a way he'd heard Draco sniff before, drawing his ire. "As if we could just leave you when you were crying your little heart out."

"You-!"

Harry reached forward and placed a hand on Draco's head, patting him. He caused Draco to freeze in shock, staring at them with wide eyes.

However, there was no pity in Harry's eyes, which caused the blond to calm down a little.

"What did he say?" Harry asked.

"I – I don't know what you're talking about."

Harry wanted to just… There was a reason why he wasn't good with dealing with temperamental children.

Luckily, Ron stepped up before he lost any more patience. "Don't even try it, Malfoy. If it wasn't that letter from your dad, what else would make you cry like a baby?"

"I was not crying like a baby!"

"Just tell us what it said, Draco!"

Draco scowled, but shoved over the letter to them.

Ron and Harry scanned over it, and Harry could see how someone like the young Malfoy could feel upset with the letter.

Draco talked about his father almost incessantly on the train ride to Hogwarts until he realized that the two boys didn't care who his father was, or who he was. He relaxed a little after that, talking about the man less.

Ron started swearing. "That blood bastard!"

Draco still glared at the boy a little. "Don't call him that."

The Weasley Hufflepuff glared back, still incensed. "He has no right to talk to you like that, father or not. I say you write back a scathing reply."

Harry calmed down both boys before they got too heated. The reason why he had them befriend each other was so that they could take care of each other, not for them to constantly fight!

"You should write to him about your thoughts, and how you're being a true Slytherin by blending into Hufflepuff together with your new friends."

The two paused hearing Harry's words, and Ron grudgingly acknowledged that would go down better than what he'd been thinking.

Still, he couldn't help but feel miffed at the scathing tone that Draco's father was using to write to him.

Draco cleaned his face, and he sniffed at them, primly walking away to write his letter.

Ron let out a laugh. "Looks like he'll be fine, eh?"

"It appears so."

-

Professor Sprout called for Harry during lunch in the Great Hall, causing more than a few curious looks.

"What is it, Professor Sprout?" Harry asked, making sure to sound polite and respectful.

While he was curious about what she wanted, it was more to keep up appearances that he made himself appear so polite and respectful.

If he wasn't The Boy Who Lived, he wouldn't have bothered with such a pretence, but since they were handing it to him on a silver platter, well, who was Harry to refuse?

Professor Sprout beamed at him cheerfully, and the others tried to look away while they ate, but Harry could practically feel their curiosity grow.

"Mr. Potter, Professor Dumbledore would like a moment of your time after lunch in his office."

Harry's brows quivered as he fought off the urge to raise them, and he adopted a look of confused innocent instead. "Have I… done something wrong?" He made sure to employ his green eyes to their full potential, causing Sprout to scramble to reassure him.

"No, no, dear. Nothing like that. He'd just like to check in on you, that's all."

Harry's brows furrowed in confusion. "Check in on me?" Harry asked. "Why would he need to do that? Is that a common occurrence in this school?"

Professor Sprout opened her mouth to answer before her own brows furrowed in confusion, suddenly wondering why the headmaster needed to talk to Harry Potter specially, when he usually never did for anyone else.

Now that Mr. Potter spoke of it, it seemed strange, but she kept her doubts to herself for the time being.

"It is not normally a common occurrence, no, but don't you be worried. I'm not sure what he wants, but I can tell you now, Mr. Potter, that you are not in trouble. If there's anything wrong with your meeting, come and see me, and we'll sort it out, alright dear?"

Harry just nodded with a small smile on his face, giving off the relief he felt.

Professor Sprout beamed at him. "No need for the password. The gargoyle will let you in. I'll ask an upper year to bring you there."

The professor looked around, causing the students that had been eavesdropping to hastily move their utensils again. She chuckled inwardly. Subtle, students were not.

"Mr. Diggory, could you please bring Mr. Potter here to headmaster Dumbledore's office after lunch?"

Cedric jerked at suddenly being called out by their Head of House, but he still looked at her and answered affirmatively. He smiled at the first year, reassuring him. He received a smile in return before returning to his lunch with the rest of his House.

Ron leaned over to Harry and whispered to him, mindful of eavesdroppers. "What do you reckon he wants with you? I've never heard of the headmaster calling any student to his office from my brothers… well, ever."

Draco scoffed, elegantly slicing into his steak. "Ronald, please keep the tales of what you've heard from your siblings. Don't think we've forgotten how they told you that you have to fight a troll for your sorting."

Ron's face went red. "That – it was the twins, not the others!"

"Well, it goes to stand, doesn't it?" Draco arched an eyebrow superiorly, ignoring the other choked laughter from the first years near them before turning back to Harry. "He's right, though. Headmaster of Hogwarts or not, that doesn't give him a right to single you out."

Hannah Abbot, who was sitting nearby, nodded her head. "If you don't want to go, just say so. He can't force you to go since you haven't done anything that needs disciplinary action. Even if you have, it's handled by our Head of House, Professor Sprout."

Harry nodded at them in thanks. "I'll still go after lunch to see what he wants. I'm rather curious about it as well. Why would he need to see me?"

Draco seemed to have some thoughts, but he doubtfully hid it. It wouldn't do for the Hufflepuffs to hear about what he thought about Dumbledore. He knew that Hufflepuffs were mostly Light, and it wouldn't be very Slytherin of him to bring it up right here in the Great Hall where everyone could overhear them.

-

Cedric led the little first year to Professor Dumbledore's office, and he couldn't help but look a few more times at the famous Harry Potter.

The boy wasn't like what he'd imagined at all.

Everyone had been rather shocked when their saviour entered Hufflepuff instead of any other House.

Not that there was anything wrong with their House. In fact, everyone who entered it felt proud, but they knew what everyone else thought about them.

So, the fact that Harry Potter of all people had entered their House meant that their House was shining in a way that it never had.

For now, at least.

The first years had already started to gather in a group, and Cedric could see that Potter was at the centre of it all. It made him curious, but he wouldn't barrage the boy with questions.

Harry appreciated the older boy not chatting his ear off, just simply explaining the route to him and how he could come to him if anything untoward happened to him in there.

It made Harry hide a smirk. Somehow, he felt like the Hufflepuffs weren't as enamoured with Dumbledore like the rest of the wizarding world was.

It made him wonder what else he had to discover.

Harry wasn't blind to the fact that Albus Dumbledore was his magical guardian. Or rather, he had been… until Harry claimed his heirships.

Had he not been chosen by magic – as explained to him by a fearful Griphook – he would likely have had a much worse time under the man's thumb.

Harry's eyes glittered as the gargoyle admitted him entrance.

He turned to the third year that helped him out, smiling at him. "Thank you, Diggory."

"No problem. You can talk to me any time," the boy said as he waved him on.

Harry stepped onto the staircase, nodding at him.