Harry trembled, pain-filled and afraid, as the group of first-years made their way up to the castle walls after the boat ride. Harry felt particularly miserable, since the rocking motions of the boat and the rowdy motions of the other first years exacerbated his wounds.

But Harry knew better than to complain. It was one of the rules.

The large, loud, scary Sir- Haggis or something like that, but not 'llowed to use names- banged on the large, double-wide, thick wood doors. A stern, pinch faced woman that reminded Harry of Ma'am, opened the door to the half-giants summons.

"Firs' years, M'nerva." Sir informed her in his loud, rough voice. Briefly, Harry thought that he was rather stating the obvious, before snuffing that brief independent thought beneath years of forced respect and servitude.

"Yes, thank you Hagrid." Ah, these people were normal, weren't freaks, 'cause they could call each other by their names. It still came as a shock to the boy that he had a name, he was pretty sure it was a mistake. But he knew better than to argue or ask questions. Again, one of the rules.

"Come children." Ma'am ordered, and Harry followed obediently with the rest. As she walked and talked at the same time, Harry made sure to listen closely, despite the distracting whisperings of awe from his fellow students. It was important to know all the rules of this new place. Punishment was bad, and Harry wanted to be good. "This is Hogwarts. This is the place where you'll eat, sleep, and go to classes for nine months out of the year. You'll shortly be sorted into your new house. Your house will become your family. Your achievements will earn you points, and any misdemeanors will be punished accordingly. The house at the end of the year with the most points will earn the house cup."

Ma'am led them into a smallish room roughly the size of Sir and Ma'am's whole house, before coming to a stop in front of another set of double-doors. Harry could vaguely hear the rumbling cacophony of hundreds of voices echoing in a large room just beyond. "Now, stay here, I'll be back to retrieve you shortly." And with that, Ma'am was gone.

Harry shuffled from foot to foot before remembering that fiddling wasn't allowed.

It was in this state of unnatural stillness that the disconcerting red-haired boy who'd been watching him since his departure from the train found him.

"'Ello! I'm Ron. Ronald Weasley. What's your name?" But from the way the boy's eyes wandered up to Harry's forehead, it seemed he already knew. That, coupled with his loud and overly-boisterous attitude, made Harry both wary and fearful of him.

In a whisper, voice hoarse from disuse, Harry replied, "Harry Potter."

And again, overly loud, so that the other students could help but hear, "Really? Harry Potter? Do you have the… y'know… the scar?"

Harry was momentarily confused. Which scar? He had so very many… and the sudden silence and probing eyes were making him very uncomfortable. But again, carrot-top's eyes wandered to his forehead, so Harry obligingly lifted his overly-long fringe to reveal the lightning-shaped scar… the only one he didn't remember getting.

"Wicked!" Ron breathed, again too loud. It seemed like he was reveling in the attention- the eyes fixed upon him and Harry- that came with a conversation with the infamous Boy-Who-Lived. Harry tried to shrink, disappear, into his overly-large robes.

Then there was another boy, a fair-skinned, blond-haired one, who easily and quietly made his way over, pale grey eyes seeing Harry… not studying, or ogling, but actually seeing him.

"Hello, Harry Potter, is it? I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." Harry had the strongest urge to grin- which shocked him, when was the last time he smiled?- when he was strongly reminded of that 007 movie that he heard Mister watch through the grate on his cupboard: The name's Bond. James Bond. But, of course, Harry didn't; he just nodded and studied the boy in front of him.

His robes looked expensive and soft, which belied his physical appearance. His nose and chin were sharp, regal. His hair was a pale, soft golden hue, slicked back to give him an aristocratic look. But when Harry gathered his courage and looked the boy in the eyes- Nonono don't do it don't break the rules!- they weren't cold, but rather like molten silver, warm and understanding. I prompted Harry to relax and give a shy, almost timid half-smile, which was enough to nearly cause… Draco, to grin widely back. As it was, his lips quirked up, which was probably as near the equivalent as Harry was gonna get.

Harry'd learned early on how to read people. Otherwise, how'd he know what was- or when it was- coming? Oh yes, Harry learned real fast.

"Go on Malfoy!" Carrot's loud, abrupt voice startled Harry from his brief moment with- inward stutter… D-Drac-co- so bad that he jumped, flinched, and winced simultaneously. Those grey eyes flashed in concern before going cold and turning onto angry boy with a contemptuous sneer.

"No need to ask who you are. Loud, obnoxious, red hair, freckles, hand-me-down robes. Must be a Weasley. Oh, and you've got some filth right… there." D-Draco pointed at the boy's nose before motioning to the rest of him. The rest of the student tittered in laughter as the Carrot turned the same shade as his hair. Harry quickly moved away; when Sir changed colors, Harry got hurt.

Then those silver eyes turned to Harry, and again, they were warm. "Come Harry, there's some wizards you don't want to associate with. I can help you there." And he held out his hand.

Harry hesitated for an infinite moment, emerald eyes wide in shock. It seemed that… D-Draco was offering to be his friend, and to… to help him. But no one… No one ever…

But Harry realized that he would never survive on his own if everyone else was like Carrot… and he realized that… he liked this golden haired archangel… his savior.

So Harry, after an eternity that was in reality only a few seconds, and with grey eyes shining in understanding and encouragement, Harry found the courage to give another half-smile and reach out and… place his too-pale, callous, and obviously broken hand into the soft hand of Draco.

Draco half-smiled back, even as his eyes filled with pain at what he could feel, but no one else would bother to see. He gently, tenderly shook Harry's hand as Harry whispered, again too hoarse, "I'd like that… D-Drac-co."

And before Carrot could blow up and… h-hurt young Harry, the doors opened and Ma'am was back.

"Come children. It's time."

And as everyone formed into a line, with Draco maneuvering Harry carefully behind him, and keeping two burly, stocky boys behind- Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, Draco whispered. Friends- they followed Ma'am into an enormous hall.

Voices mumbled and fluctuated around them, causing a faint echo that rang off the wide, sparkling ceiling above them. There was a full moon- which warmed Harry from the inside and caused him to half-smile again; it felt so good… so real- and stars and just a brief smattering of clouds that glowed in the iridescent moonlight. All this was mirrored on the wide expanse above him- It's enchanted to look like the night sky. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History- Harry heard from some Miss behind him.

Everyone came to a haphazard stop before an oak stool and a worn, tattered, ancient-looking hat. The line was abandoned and everyone crammed into one massive group, trying to all see and study the odd cap. But still, Harry could feel eyes upon him. That, coupled with the press of bodies all around him, was causing Harry to hyperventilate.

Draco noticed this, as did Vincent and Gregory, and they pushed and nudged people til Goyle and Crabbe were keeping a nice, comfortable bubble around Harry and Draco, who was gently helping Harry recover and breath.

It took the length of the hat's song for Harry to calm down, so Draco explained in a soft whisper what they had to do- just try on the hat, and it would tell you which house you belonged in.

"Don't worry Harry," Draco whispered. "You'll stay with me, I just know it. Everything will be okay. I'll still be your friend, no matter what."

And before Harry could recover from that- a friend…?- "MALFOY, DRACO" was called, and Draco was giving him a reassuring smile before he sauntered to the stool and perched upon it with all the grace and elegance of a prince.

Harry looked around as Ma'am set the hat on Draco's head, where it sat for a bit- where was Gregory and Vincent?- before he saw them sitting at a table with a green and black snake banner above it. Huh, that must be Slytha- Slinar- …

"SLYTHERIN!"

That's it! Draco gave Harry another small smile and a wink before he strolled over to his table to polite- the other three tables- and sincere, raucous- Slytherin- applause.

Harry shifted nervously; he just couldn't help it, as he watched as the next few children were sorted. What if he didn't end up with Draco? What if he wasn't picked at all? What if they realized what a freak Boy was and that he didn't deserve a name and he didn't deserve friends, and then sent him back to Sir and Ma'am? And just as Harry was realizing just how horrible and terrible and awful that would be…

"POTTER, HARRY!"

And as the hall exploded in whispers and exclamations of surprise and shock, and Harry slowly and unsurely made his way to the stool and the all-knowing, fate-deciding hat, Harry searched out desperately for the eyes of his first friend.

And the last thing that Harry saw way the warm, silver eyes of Draco as he gave him a smile and a thumbs-up before the hat fell on his head and slipped over his eyes, turning the world dark.

Harry trembled and very nearly leaped off the stool in shock as the hat began speaking. In his head.

::Ah yes… Harry Potter. I've heard all about you, and… Oh! Oh dear boy, I haven't… I'd never have thought… Oh, I'm so sorry. I can't… I can't tell you much but… everything, your whole life's a lie. You're not who they say you are… you're a lost child. Both to yourself, and to a broken couple. Remember that… and I hope that you can recover some of your lost childhood here, though with Dumbledick- oop! Pardon my French- here, that might not be a possibility. But maybe… just perhaps… someone might give you a fighting chance.

Let's see… You have a vast well of possible loyalty, all you need are some to be loyal to. But not Hufflepuff, no they're not quite right for you. Smothering, I'd say.

And lessee… A sharp mind, eager and willing to learn, almost desperate… though I ache to see what caused such. But not Ravenclaw, too analytical, not quite enough heart.

Hmmmm… you're brave- you'd have to have been to survive thus far- but you're not reckless, no far from it, in fact. Gryffindor would push expectations upon your shoulders that would eventually crush you, completely and utterly. Not to mention, Gryffindor's are thicker and more oblivious to the obvious than your average rock, and none so much as the head of house.

So yes, there seems to be really only one choice. Slytherin, despite popular opinion, is fiercely loyal to their own, and masters at the art of observing their surroundings and adapting accordingly. Two skills of which you're already much adept at, am I correct? They'll help heal you, and give you your confidence. I'd say they'd give your confidence back, but you've never had it in the first place.:: A deep, mournful sigh.

::But, I'll still give you a choice. Where do you want to be young one?::

Harry was shocked. He had… a choice? But… there'd never, he'd never… No one'd… Harry took a deep breath.

'I… I wanna be with D-Draco a-an' G-Gregory an-n' V-Vin-Vincen-nt. I j-jus' wanna b-be s-safe.'

::Very well, little one. Haha, I was going to just announce that Mr. Malfoy was Slytherin but he had a request for me first. He almost begged- though when I pointed this out, he firmly denied it. 'Malfoy's don't beg.'- for me to place you with him in Slytherin. It seems as though you've already got an ally. And you'll receive many, many more in…::

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry walked in a daze to the Slytherin table. He didn't notice the total and complete, shocked silence that lasted for almost four seconds- a record!- before it broke into loud and stunned whispers and a brief scattered applause.

Harry only had eyes for Draco- his first, real friend- and his wide, beaming smile; and Vincent and Gregory's loud whoo-hoo's and large fists punching the air. And, like the sun peeking from behind the clouds after a horrible, ten-year storm, Harry smiled a real, genuine smile, emerald eyes sparkling in hope. He didn't notice the hitched breaths around him when his fellow housemates caught sight of his broken and few missing teeth as he gently perched on the bench beside Draco, wincing only a little.

And as the sorting finally started back up again, Ma'am's voice stuttering in her lingering shock, all Harry could think was…

'I'm safe.'