Disclaimer: All rights belong to J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series.

Warnings: slash (boyxboy)

Note: Written for The Lottery Competition: 6 MeanGirls!AU/ 12 Delicious/ 23 Automatic/ 38 "News travels fast."/ 40 "I crave gossip. It feeds me."; The If You Dare Challenge: 7 (green with envy)

Toppling the King

Harry smiled nervously as he stood in front of the class, feeling as if they were analyzing his entire worth and judging him in their stares. The teacher was taking unnecessarily long in her introduction, and he couldn't be more relieved when he finally got to sit down. He could sense some eyes following him as he made the trek all the way to the back of the classroom, sitting down with a soft sigh.


Harry turned to the right and found a redhead grinning at him, a hand out in greeting. Extending his own, Harry returned the smile.

"Hi, I'm Harry."

"Ron Weasley," he leaned forward in his desk, gripping the front edge, directing all of his attention to him.

"So what's your story? Why'd you transfer to Hogwarts?" Harry threw a quick glance to see if the teacher noticed anything.

"Well, I was home schooled, so I thought maybe I should start attending real school now." Actually, his godfather suggested that. Harry would've preferred continuing independent study, but no, he had to 'develop social skills.' Sometimes, it hurts when people care too much. He kind of missed the freedom he had at the Dursleys'; they didn't care what he did as long as he stayed out of their way. Life with his godfather was great though. Better than he could have ever hoped for. Except for this.

"I should warn you," a head of bushy brown hair peeked out from Ron's other side. "This school is very clique-based. There's the geeks, nerds, jocks, goths, everything really."

"What are you?" Harry asked, furrowing his brows. Oh frick, he really was going to be judged, wasn't he? Why can't school just be a happy place, free from discrimination?

"Me?" she opened her mouth to reply when Ron interrupted her.

"We're the leftovers, the cast outs, the outsiders. We're a bit of everything, and that's why we're hated. We didn't conform or ass-mill-ate—,"

"Assimilate," the girl corrected with a roll of her eyes.

"That word," Ron assented, pointing behind him.

"I'm Hermione, by the way," she said.

"Anything else I should know?"

"I advise you to stay away from the Perfs."


"Perfect Everywhere, Really Fabulous." Harry's lips twitched. Who came up with such a horrible name?

Ron scoffed. "More like, Please Evacuate Really Fast. God, the bitchiness they exude," he muttered, rubbing his forehead as if trying to alleviate pain.

"They rule the school," Hermione continued, ignoring Ron's words but not denying them.

"Number one: Vincent Crabbe, the dumbest person you'll ever meet. Probably held back more times than he can count."

"He's more likely to punch first then talk, so be careful."

"Number two: Gregory Goyle. He could be Crabbe's twin. They look nothing alike, but they might as well share a brain, which might be the reason why they're so dumb."

"They're basically bodyguards for the greater threat—,"

"Draco Malfoy," Ron spat out with fire alighting in his eyes.

"He could destroy you with just a few words."

"A few words to his daddy," Ron snorted, crossing his arms angrily, "can't even fight his own battles, the coward."

Harry bit his lip, sensing something more than just past disgruntlement.

"Your best bet is to just to steer clear from them," Hermione nodded, agreeing with herself.

"You three in the back! Pay attention!" The trip flinched when a ruler was smacked harshly against wood.

"Yes, Professor McGonagall," they apologized obediently, ducking their heads and taking notes once more.

Harry frowned once class was over. He had no idea where his next classroom was, and sincerely hoped either Hermione or Ron would be able to show him but was disappointed when they both had classes on the opposite end of the school.

"Sorry, Harry," Hermione said, dragging Ron with her as she hurried away, disappearing into the deep masses, "we'll find you during lunch though."

As Harry was about to try his luck with shoving his way through the crowd, a person stepped in front of him.

"Oh, sorry," he murmured, preparing to walk around him when he heard himself being addressed.

"You must be the new student. Aren't you positively delicious?" Harry looked up, seeing a stunning teen smirking at him.

"How'd you know?"

"News travels fast, and I crave gossip. It feeds me." Impeccable white-blonde hair with not a strand out of place, something that made him green with envy, he thought, trying to smooth out his own rat's nest of a head, flawless skin, no blemish in sight, and form-fitting clothes to flaunt what he's obviously got. "I'm Draco Malfoy."

He extended his hand out, shooting Harry a million dollar smile, rows of straight teeth beaming at him, so perfectly white a dentist would praise them.

"Harry Potter," he answered, just a tad bit in awe. Draco's smirk grew wider, probably expecting this reaction.

"What's your next period?" he didn't bother to wait, snatching Harry's glaring yellow schedule from his hands.


"Wonderful, me too." With that said, Draco snapped his fingers and handed back the paper. "Crabbe, Goyle."

Harry blinked in alarm as two bulking figures flanked Draco's side. How did he miss something so huge? Well, Hermione and Ron weren't kidding. Those two looked like they could get in a fight with a bulldozer and win.

"Accompany me to my next class." Harry was about to content himself with following behind, but Draco grabbed his arm, yanking him until they were walking side by side.

"Don't be stupid, you're with me now." Harry gaped when the crowd of densely clustered students parted directly in the middle, creating a path to walk across.

"Flavored mineral water?" Draco asked, already snapping his fingers and a water bottle was handed to him, shoving it into Harry's hands.

"Umm, thanks?"

"But of course," Draco glanced at him, "only the best for a Malfoy, and therefore, the best for my friends."

He went on. "I'll teach you the ins and outs of this school, what not to do, who not to hang out with, like them," he pointed to a ditzy blonde smiling up at the ceiling and a blushing boy with a toad in his hands, "it's automatic social suicide."

Huh, Draco wasn't so bad. Someone so beautiful couldn't possibly be evil. Sure, he was pretty bossy and commanding, but he didn't seem evil. Maybe Hermione and Ron were exaggerating. Harry opened the water bottle, taking a small sip as a smile worked its way across his face. Maybe he will stick with Draco for awhile.