Chapter Text
Disclaimer - I don’t own anything, I’m just borrowing things for a while and I promise I’ll put everything back exactly how I found it when I’ve finished. Well, almost exactly how I found it ;)
A/N This was inspired by Resimesdra’s great fic ‘F*** Me I’m Famous’, and a big thanks to mendacity for giving me a title!!
“Draco Malfoy,” Professor McGonagall said in a clear voice.
As soon as those words were uttered, Draco knew he was going to have that dream again. He’d taken to calling it his ‘what if’ dream, and it had never varied from the first time he’d had it in his first year at Hogwarts. Usually he’d have the dream a couple of times a year, but lately it had become more and more frequent until he was experiencing it every night.
He groaned and turned over, trying to think about something else. But the dream persisted and Draco eventually gave into it.
He swaggered up to the stool and as he sat down, he could see Harry and Ron watching him. Draco smirked at them, safe in the knowledge that they’d never be in the same house as him. All his family had been in Slytherin, and the Sorting Hat had usually made its decision before it had touched their heads.
“I’ll bet he’ll be in Slytherin,” Draco heard Ron whisper to Harry. “There’s not a witch or wizard who didn’t go bad from that house.”
Draco smirked even more as the Sorting Hat came down, but as it touched his head, he became less confident.
“Hmm, a Malfoy. I know where you think you belong,” it whispered in Draco’s ear. “But where should I put you?”
“What do you mean ‘where should you put me’?” Draco hissed incredulously, glad no one else in the Great Hall could hear what was going on. “Put me in Slytherin like the rest of my family.”
“I was certain where they belonged, but you I’m not so sure about.”
“Where else can you put me? Not Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff surely,” Draco said indignantly. He’d never be able to bear the shame of being sorted into one of those houses.
“No, you deserve to be put into a nobler house,” the Sorting Hat told him.
Draco relaxed, thinking the Hat meant Slytherin, then he froze. “Wait . . . nobler??” he repeated incredulously. “You don’t mean . . .”
“I know,” the Sorting Hat suddenly declared in a loud voice that could be heard by the entire Hall. “Gryffindor!!”
There was a stunned silence and Draco was vaguely aware of the Hat being removed from his head. Someone pushed him gently towards a table full of people wearing red and gold trimmed robes.
Draco decided he was dreaming - that was the answer - and he screwed his eyes up tightly. Any moment now he’d wake up and be surrounded by silver and green trimmed robes, talking haughtily about how his family were all purebloods, direct descendents of Salazar Slytherin himself.
But when he opened his eyes, he found he was still amongst the Gryffindors. That was it. For the next seven years, he’d have to live with these . . . do-gooders.
I’m being punished for something, I know I am, Draco thought sourly. The Weasley boy will almost certainly be in this house, along with the rest of his blood-traitor family. And him.
Draco turned over again. He couldn’t get comfy and he was tired of thinking ‘what if I’d been put into Slytherin instead’ because he was happy in Gryffindor. Happier than he ever thought he could be. Apart from the fact his family had disowned him. But that didn’t matter. In fact, it had made his decision a whole lot easier. The decision that had set off this dream again because if he’d been in Slytherin, Draco wouldn’t have come to the decision he had.
He lay on his stomach and went back to his dream.
Draco looked at ‘him’ - Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived (and who had also turned down Malfoy’s grand offer of friendship). How would Harry react if he ended up in the same house as Malfoy? Draco didn’t want to think about it.
But the Sorting Hat was taking a long time deciding where to put Harry, and Draco found that reassuring in a way.
“Better be . . . Gryffindor!” the Sorting Hat shouted, and Draco groaned whilst the rest of the Gryffindors clapped and cheered loudly.
Soon the sorting ceremony was finished and Draco found himself flanked by a clumsy boy, an Irish lad who wouldn’t stop talking, and two Weasleys. Opposite him was Harry, the youngest Weasley and a bushy haired girl with huge front teeth. No one tried to engage him in conversation - in fact, no one seemed to know he was there, although Draco could have sworn Harry glanced in his direction a few times.
Once the feast was over, everyone was ushered from the Great Hall and shown to their common rooms. Draco had a sudden urge to follow the Slytherins, but he found none of them even glanced in his direction. All the people he had known before coming to Hogwarts, and even those he had befriended on the train, ignored him. He was being shunned by everyone - those whose house he should have been in and those whose house he had ended up in. Why couldn’t they all see it was a mistake?
The other boys in Gryffindor were chatting happily as they unpacked and settled in, but Draco just pulled the drapes around his bed, cast a simple silencing charm and began crying.
Tears rolled down Draco’s cheeks and he wiped them away, not really awake, but aware of what was happening. He knew he was crying because of the dream, but he was also worrying about how his decision would be met by those closest to him - those he had despised in the beginning. But they had grown to like him for who he was underneath the façade of arrogance, and he doubted whether that would change because of this decision.
Draco’s father, Lucius, arrived a week later and demanded to see Dumbledore immediately. Draco waited nervously at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the Headmaster’s office, desperate to know what was happening. He hoped his father would be able to sort this mess out.
But when Lucius finally emerged, his face was set in a grim expression and he strode straight past his son without even glancing at him. Draco stood frozen to the spot in shock. His father’s attitude could only mean one thing - he was stuck in Gryffindor.
On Halloween, he followed Harry and Ron (he had tried to call them by their last names, but it just didn’t work) to the girls toilets, where they had headed to warn Hermione about the troll. Draco had hoped to get the other Gryffindors in trouble, but somehow he had ended up helping them defeat the troll and was surprised to be rewarded with their offer of friendship. He took it tentatively, thinking he would make them regret it somehow later on.
An owl arrived the day before everyone left for Christmas, informing Draco he would have to stay at school over the holidays as his parents were going away somewhere. Harry noticed Draco’s expression as his fellow Gryffindor read the letter.
“Do you play chess, Draco?” Harry asked, startling the blond.
“A little,” Draco replied.
“I’m staying here over the holidays as well, but Ron’s going to Romania to visit his brother Charlie. I can see if he’ll lend me his set if you want,” Harry said, his words coming out in a rush.
The next day when all the students were leaving, Harry and Draco were sat in the Great Hall, waiting for Ron and Hermione to come and say goodbye.
“Here. Take care of it, won’t you?” Ron asked worriedly, handing Harry his chess set.
“If you’re staying, Draco, you can help Harry look for information on Nicholas Flammel,” Hermione said.
“Who?” Draco asked, frowning.
“But Hermione, we’ve looked in the library a hundred times,” Harry protested.
“Not in the Restricted Section you haven’t. Merry Christmas.” As she walked off with Ron, Draco looked at Harry and tried not to smirk. If Harry was going to enter the Restricted Area, that was the perfect way to get him in trouble and to make everyone see that he, Draco, belonged in Slytherin.
When Christmas Day arrived, both Gryffindors were shocked to see what was under the tree - Harry had a small mountain of presents, whereas Draco had none.
“Want to talk about it?” Harry asked as he tossed the blond a chocolate frog.
“Not really,” Draco answered, and that was the end of the conversation.
At least until Harry unwrapped the Invisibility Cloak.
Draco wiped more tears away. The initial rejection of his parents had really hurt him. To go from having everything to having nothing (but Gryffindors) was a huge shock to his system and he couldn’t understand why it was happening to him. Then he smiled in his sleep as he remembered how he and Harry had chatted excitedly about the Cloak, all traces of animosity and uncertainty gone.
That night, Draco was awoken by someone shaking him roughly by the shoulder. “You’ve got to come see this, Draco!” Harry shouted, dragging his fellow Gryffindor out of bed. They ran through the corridors under the Cloak and finally entered a room with a large Mirror in it. “I saw my parents in it! Look!”
Draco stepped forward and looked into the Mirror, thinking this would be an excellent opportunity to land Harry with a month of detentions. But he yelped in surprise when he saw what the Mirror showed him, and he fell backwards.
“Let’s go back, Harry,” Draco muttered, not looking at the Mirror and Harry just nodded.
Draco never told anyone what the Mirror of Erised had shown him, but after that night, he never thought about getting his fellow Gryffindors into trouble again. Instead, he worked hard, earned house points and helped people if they needed it.
At the end of his first year, after he, Harry, Ron and Hermione had stopped Voldemort from getting the Philosopher’s Stone, Draco was summoned to the Headmaster’s office.
“We’ll save you a seat on the train,” Harry told him as they left the castle.
Draco entered Dumbledore’s office with a huge amount of trepidation, but he saw it was empty, except for a magnificent phoenix, who eyed him knowingly, and the Sorting Hat.
“Another unhappy student,” the Hat said to him. “Why can’t you all just accept the house that I put you in? I do know what I’m doing. After all, I’ve been doing it for hundreds of years.”
“But why did you put me in Gryffindor?” Draco asked, then listened very intently as the Hat answered.
“Draco,” Dumbledore said quietly, making the blond jump. “Please, have a seat. Sherbet lemon?”
“No thank you, sir,” Draco said, his voice shaking.
“More for me,” Dumbledore replied with a smile. “Now, Draco, I do not wish you to worry - you are not in any kind of trouble. I just wanted to talk with you about the year you’ve had. I know you were very confused and upset at the beginning of the year by the Sorting Hat’s decision to put you in Gryffindor. But as the Hat has just told you, it had its reasons. Do you understand what it said to you?”
“Mostly, sir,” Draco answered. “I suppose I’ll understand better when I’m older.”
Dumbledore’s smile turned into a beam. “Good, good. Now, the Mirror of Erised. I understand you and Harry both looked into it, yes?” Draco nodded. “And do you know what Harry saw?”
“His parents,” Draco answered.
“Indeed. Did you tell him what you saw?”
“No sir.”
“I thought not. You haven’t told anyone at all?” Dumbledore asked, and Draco shook his head. “Do you know what the Mirror does, Draco?”
“I would have said it shows us what we want,” Draco answered. “It showed Harry his parents. But I don’t understand what I saw - I don’t understand how that can be what I want.”
“It shows us our deepest desires,” Dumbledore explained. “I would be surprised if you had understood what you saw - it is an understanding that will only come with age. This is what I want you to do, Draco. At the end of your sixth year, on this same date, come and see me. I will take you to the Mirror and you can look in it again. If what you see is the same - and I would be most surprised if it wasn’t - you should understand it better. If you’re still confused, then I will explain. Now it’s time for you to catch the train or it will leave without you. See you next year, Draco.”
“Goodbye, sir,” Draco said and left the Headmaster’s office. He was more confused about some things, but he was much more settled with the idea of being a Gryffindor now.