Thank you,

Lonely Ghost – I'm not quite sure yet, myself, who Draco's father is. Of course we'll find out sooner or later. I have some ideas, and I've gotten some, and your joke was a joke of my own once. Strange. I love your ideas, and it's great to hear which parts of the story strike you most. Very helpful. And I also loved how long your review was, it's always much fun to get those.

Alexial – Read on. I only find out what happens shortly before you do. :)

It is our choices that show what we truly are.

Disclaimers – They're not necessary. If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't be posting this on FF.N.

Chapter Six

Changes

The first week of classes left the students tired but restless. The Gryffindors spent Friday night, as they had most of the week, gathered in their common room, unwilling to separate from friends they had just been reunited with. Harry and Hermione sat near Ron and listened as he read them a letter from his family.

"I guess they finally decided that giving Snape the job will be the best way to get him to stop asking," wrote George when he heard of it. "This will make him either satisfied or dead."

Fred added, "If I were you, I'd probably wear armour to class from now on, though."

The idea was vetoed after much consideration, and after Ron's observation that it was already hard enough carrying all their books to class. "His plan already seems to involve wearing us down through heavy weights. I don't think we should help him with it."

"It might help us train for Quidditch," said Harry.

The first few weeks of Quidditch practice were taxing as well. Ron was ecstatic to be team captain as well as a Beater, and he was determined to outshine his brothers. Harry was the Seeker for the sixth year running. Both of them routinely returned to the Gryffindor tower late and sweaty. They jokingly tried to get Hermione to try for the team, but she just rolled her eyes and kept working on her homework.

"Come on, Mione, you'll be good at it. You're naturally talented at everything," insisted Ron.

"No, Ron. How about you try doing your essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Spoilsport," he muttered, reluctantly going to get his books.

Harry, having already done his essay during Potions (Professor Bush was very nice. Once the work was done she didn't care what the students did, and best, she didn't invent more work for them), sat down beside Hermione and watched the fire while waiting for Ron to return.

"Hey… Hermione?"

"Hmm… what?" she murmured, putting the end to her overlong essay.

"Have you seen any of Draco lately?"

"Well, no, Harry," she looked up at him, "I didn't expect to."

"He's gone back to his own kind," said Ron, lugging his books down the stairs. "Hey, I don't think this is mine. Where did this come from?" he muttered to himself.

"Still, I wondered if he's really nicer than he used to be." Harry looked disappointed.

"Maybe on the inside, but he's got a reputation to keep up. If he started petting kittens instead of kicking them, there would be talk," said Hermione.

"I think my mum taught him to ignore them, at least," said Ron. "He seemed to like her. She just likes everybody."

Suddenly, a loud wailing filled the castle. "Peeves!" yelled more than one person. But the wailing continued, and after a few moments it was followed by Professor McGonagall's voice announcing that all students were to come to the front lawn of the castle as quickly as possible. Panicked students dropped everything and ran down the staircases to arrive outside, panting. A group was forming around the teachers, and prefects were running around trying to call roll.

Harry, Ron and Hermione pushed their way through the chaos toward where they could see Hagrid towering above the crowd. He was wringing his hands and looking around nervously.

"A monster on the lam, do you think?" said Ron.

Hagrid didn't know what had happened. None of the other teachers appeared to, either. Filch wasn't there, and neither were Professor Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall. Snape looked grouchy as usual, but the rest of the professors just looked confused. Finally, Dumbledore and McGonagall showed up. Dumbledore stood on the stairs and looked out over the school, assembled there on the lawn.

"We have been alerted of a bomb within the school," Dumbledore stated, flat out. The whole crowd gasped in unison. "Don't worry, as long as you are all out here, you will be safe," he assured. "Mr. Filch is currently searching the school and it will soon be safe to return inside." He smiled down at a couple of first years who were shivering in the wind. "In the meantime, the teachers will be conjuring fires to keep you warm. Please do not conjure fires of your own, though marshmallows are acceptable." He stepped down and began pulling out marshmallow roasting sticks to distribute to the students.

"What do you think of that?" said Harry, holding his marshmallows over a small blue fire.

"Why would anyone want to bomb the school?" said Ron. "Except for the usual 'pure evil' excuse, I mean."

"What, do you suppose Voldemort's wandering around in our dormitory right now?" sniggered Hermione.

Gryffindor Tower exploded.

People shrieked and ran from the castle as bits of stone and furniture rained down. Most of the debris didn't come anywhere near the students, to the immense relief of all. The few bits that did were deflected by quick-thinking teachers.

"Well, at least no harm came of it," drawled Snape.

The Gryffindors stood in shock, staring at their home in pieces. Ginny held a piece of her trunk and started crying. Many people sat down heavily on the cold ground, oblivious to the rest of the crowd. Seamus Finnegan sank down dazed and set his pants on fire.

Filch stormed out of the castle minutes later, a soot-covered student in tow. "I've found the culprit!" he yelled, dragging the student towards Dumbledore. A low gasp went out over the crowd as the student raised his head and they recognised Draco Malfoy.

"I didn't do anything!" he exclaimed. "I was just looking for my book!" He winced as a chunk of stone flew from the crowd past his head.

"Likely story."

"Rotten little twerp…"

"You see, I told you he was bad news…"

"Oh my gosh," said Hermione.

Ron was torn between fury and confusion. "But he… his book?"

Harry tore his gaze from the screaming Draco and looked at Ron. "What about Malfoy's book? It's just an excuse," he said bitterly.

"But his book was there," said Ron.

Harry and Hermione stared at him as if he'd gone mad.

"One of my books, it wasn't mine. Draco and I got them switched. I noticed just before the alarm sounded. I don't think he was lying, mates."

"Oh boy," said Harry.

"Do we have to have these mysteries every year?" said Hermione.

"Do we have to tell them he's not lying?" said Ron.

"Yes," said Harry.

= = = = = = = = = = = =

"I've found it!" Ron yelled.

"Good work, Ron. Professor Dumbledore has taken Draco up to his office," said Hermione, who had been wisely paying attention.

The three raced up to the entrance to Dumbledore's office to find that they were already inside. "Oh, great, what do we do now?" asked Harry.

"Now we've got to find Professor McGonagall," said Hermione.

"For what, may I ask?" said Professor McGonagall, coming around the corner.

"Professor McGonagall!" they all yelled. Ron continued, "He wasn't lying, Professor. I have his book, it was switched with mine!"

"Calm down, Mr. Weasley," said Professor McGonagall sternly. "That is not proof."

"But…" stuttered Hermione.

"But it is evidence, and we will have to consider it. I will take the book up to Professor Dumbledore." She took it from Ron and opened the door, signalling to them that they should leave.

"Professor, I know you think Draco is no good, and he probably isn't, but honestly, I don't think he did it!" said Harry.

Seeing how agitated they were, Professor McGonagall sighed. "You may come up to Dumbledore's office," she said. They looked up hopefully. "IN A MINUTE! Give me time to tell him this." With that, she left them.

"All right!" said Ron. "We get to go in Dumbledore's office!"

Hermione tapped her foot nervously. "Do we get to go up yet?"

They were worried about Draco Malfoy. It hit them all of a sudden. The last couple of months had convinced them that he was not all bad, but they hadn't known that they would start to care about what happened to him.

"This is weird," said Harry, voicing it for all of them.

Ron stared at the floor for a while and said, "I think we can go up now."

The three ascended the staircase to Dumbledore's office and stood outside the door. Hermione was on the verge of opening it when they heard Draco speaking.

"Please, I swear I didn't do it…I swear…"

Professor McGonagall cut in. "That may be the case, Mr. Malfoy, but we will certainly have to tell your parents anyway. This sort of thing does not happen everyday."

"No! I… please don't, he… please…"

"Calm down, Mr. Malfoy. I do not believe this was your doing," said Professor Dumbledore.

"Then why do you have to tell my parents!" He exploded in frustrated tears.

"I should have told you already, Mr. Malfoy, that before the school year began I received a letter concerning you." Professor Dumbledore pulled the letter out of his desk. "You should read this."

Draco started reading it, and that was when Hermione opened the door. The three stepped into Dumbledore's office nervously. Dumbledore smiled and gestured for them to sit down.

Draco continued reading the letter and broke out into a cold sweat. "Who... who is this from? Why me? What about the… the Slyth… oh…" He looked as if he were about to faint.

"Minerva, please get some tea to calm him down," said Dumbledore sharply. Professor McGonagall nodded and left.

Harry, Ron and Hermione wondered if they should leave. Harry started to get up, but Professor Dumbledore gestured for him to stay. They looked between Draco and Dumbledore and wondered what was going on.

"Why do they say I don't belong in Slytherin?" asked Draco, trying to sound curious but feeling as if his throat was so dry he could hardly talk. The three Gryffindors were shocked. Draco seemed the archetype of a Slytherin.

"I was hoping you could tell me that," said Dumbledore coolly.

Draco took a deep breath. "Okay."

Professor Dumbledore gestured toward the other students. "Would you like them to leave?"

Draco looked over with a face more troubled than they had ever seen it and said, "They can stay."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow but merely said, "Very well. Why do you think someone might think you don't belong in Slytherin House?"

"My father… Lucius… he told me a couple of months ago."

Draco related the entire story - how his father was not his father, how he was kicked out, how the Weasleys took him in. He told about the kindness he had been shown, and the money he had put in their bank vault in gratitude. He said that he had had fun with people he never thought he would spend time with, and told Dumbledore about the poisoned rock incident. And then a bomb had gone off in the very room to which he was headed.

"Everything is upside down," he finished, crying.

Everyone else in the room felt the same way.

= = = = = = = = = = = =

Draco spent most of the next few days moping around the Slytherin common room. He didn't feel like facing Ron or Hermione or Harry, or any of the teachers who had been alerted about the danger to him. The Slytherins were almost as bad, though, with their talk of the Dark Lord and their supremacy over the other houses… over the Mudbloods. Finally, he had had enough of that and decided to go to Potions class, for a change.

Unfortunately for him, Hermione was on the lookout and as soon as he stepped out of the Slytherin common room, she pulled him into an empty classroom. "Draco! Are you alright?"

He ground his teeth. "I'm fine."

"You haven't left your common room in days. That is not normal behaviour. Don't lie. But Draco, if you need anything…"

"I don't need anything."

"Look, Draco…"

"Why are you hanging around my common room?"

"Didn't anyone tell you? After Gryffindor Tower went to pieces, they moved us all down next to the Slytherins. Bloody horrible idea, in my opinion."

"Mine, too."

"Look, Draco, I don't see why you're suddenly so sulky. If you've known for months, why is it so bad now?"

"Because, Granger, it is not supposed to be like this!"

"Because the Gryffindors aren't supposed to know?"

He shook his head. "Look, I've been a Slytherin for more than five years. I've been a Malfoy all my life. But now, suddenly, BAM! Where has it gone?"

"I don't get it, Draco. You're still a Slytherin. You're still a Malfoy."

"But I shouldn't be! And nobody knows, but they will. And I know. And where will I go when the truth comes out?" He banged his fist on the wall. "THIS IS NOT MY FAULT! I want my parents back! I want my home, I want my friends, I want to know WHERE I AM SUPPOSED TO BE!"

"I know," said Harry, slipping in the door. He and Hermione smiled sadly at each other.

"I've got to go, Potions starts in a few minutes," she said softly, and left.

"Look, Potter," said Draco, "I don't know what you're up to, but leave me out of it. The Boy Who Lived to Be Self-Righteous is not what I need." Harry cringed as he heard the nasty nickname, and Draco cringed inwardly to say it. He hadn't meant to. He tried again. "Potter, why are you here?"

"I just wanted to tell you, Draco, that if you wanted to talk, I know something about not having a father. And about having a family that doesn't like you, as well."

Draco winced at hearing the truth. He didn't want to think about his family. "No thanks. Harry."

Harry nodded and turned to leave, upset at having not been able to do anything. Then he had a thought, and turned back to Draco.

"Say, Draco… do you have any idea why the Sorting Hat put you in Slytherin? If you're 'not supposed to be there,' I mean."

"I don't know."

"Maybe Professor Dumbledore would. The Hat tried to put me in Slytherin."

Draco felt a twinge at hearing that Harry Potter was more suited to his house than he was. "So why aren't you?"

"Because I didn't want to be."

"You – oh, let's be cryptic! What a game!" Draco got angry and pushed past Harry. "Let me go, I've got to get to Potions."

"So do I." Harry tagged him all the way to Potions class, but fortunately for the exasperated Draco, there weren't any seats together. Draco sat next to Neville, who looked at him nervously but was too afraid to say anything to him, to Draco's relief.

Professor Bush came in. "Good morning, class. Hopefully you remembered that we're going to be making Sugar Coating Solution today. It's the potion that will instantly turn anything into candy, so you're going to like it. You've brought your materials?" A look around the classroom confirmed that most students had not. Hermione held hers up triumphantly, but Draco, who hadn't been to Potions class lately, stared blankly at the wall and hoped to not be noticed.

Professor Bush noticed him, however. Once she distributed ingredients to the students who didn't have them, she called him up to her desk.

"For not being in class before," he thought. He strode up defiantly.

"Draco. Professor Dumbledore has informed me of your… problems with your family. However, I would appreciate it if you informed me if you decided to not come to class. If you are avoiding your fellow students, I would be happy to help you out with some private tutoring."

"Creepy old lady," he thought. What he said out loud was, "That's very kind of you, Professor, but I think I will be fine."

"We'll see, Draco. Just remember that I will help you if I can in any way."

= = = = = = = = = = = =

After class, Draco went straight to Dumbledore's office. It seemed that the professor had been waiting for him to show up.

"Ah, young Mr. Malfoy. Or would you prefer to be called Draco?"

"Draco."

"You have a question for me, Draco?"

Draco thought that was a little creepy. "Yeah…"

"Which is?"

He took a deep breath, hoping he wanted to know. "Why did the Sorting Hat put me in Slytherin?"

Dumbledore rose from behind his desk and went to the Sorting Hat, which was sitting on a shelf. "A very good question. A sort which I've been asked before. Did you know, Draco, that this hat did not choose Gryffindor as a first choice for your… acquaintance, Harry Potter?"

"Yes, I did," said Draco. He did not reveal that he had learned this less than an hour ago.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Ah, a very well informed young man."

"But what about me? Why did I get put in Slytherin if I wasn't supposed to?"

"Because, Draco, this hat is not omniscient. It can tell whether you are a pure-blood only through whether you think you are, and you certainly thought so. The reason it put you in Slytherin, though, was because you wanted to be a Slytherin. You thought like a Slytherin. Thought is all that matters to a Thinking Hat." Dumbledore smiled. "And, I daresay, thought is what matters to most anyway. Your blood does not affect your future. Even pure-bloods are sometimes terrible at magic. You, however, are a much better student than many I have seen."

"So… I am a Slytherin because I thought I should be? But what now that I know I shouldn't?" Draco frowned.

Dumbledore frowned too. "I am afraid I don't know. I don't believe we've ever had a student change houses before. But if you decide that you would like to, I am sure the Sorting Hat would not mind finding another house for you. Think on it, and come back to tell me what you have decided. I will tell you, before you go, something I once told Mr. Potter about this very same subject. It is our choices that show what we truly are."

Draco had a long night.