Author's Note: This is an Alternate Universe of the Dangerverse (property of whydoyouneedtoknow) in which Draco was not rescued as a four year old child, but raised a Malfoy until First Year. Therefore the only changes to the original storyline of Living with Danger are anything to do particularly with the Malfoys and we start where that story leaves off. Lucius Malfoy remained free and teaches Wizarding Culture at Hogwarts. Narcissa lives at Malfoy Manor in a different wing than Draco, and Draco isn't quite the tempermental Slytherin, that we all know and love from JKR's canon works. When a subdued heir of a prominently dark family is placed in Gryffindor, the pack investigates, rescues, and falls in love with a boy "By Any Other Name."
Disclaimer: Canon characters and situations are borrowed from the canon written by JKR. OC's Danger Granger, Aletha Freeman-Black, and Meghan Black along with the past storyline and plot (basically the universe) belong to the Dangerverse by whydoyouneedtoknow (Living With Danger, Living Without Danger, Dealing With Danger, and Facing Danger). Thank you both for the inspiration.
Warnings: None for this chapter, except for very subtle references to child abuse. And now without further ado, I present:
By Any Other Name
Original Dark Angel
Chapter 1: The Unexpected Gryffindor.
Harry and Hermione reached Hogwarts with their old and new friends alike. As the others marveled at Hagrid's girth and the lights of the castle, they chatted quietly and mostly via Marauder hand-signals about the skinny blonde kid that had entered their compartment earlier.
Harry barely noticed the compartment door slide open, but when the entire compartment went quiet, he turned around. A new boy was standing hesitantly in the doorway. Harry grinned at him. "Hi, I'm Harry Potter. Looking for somewhere to sit?"
Ron bristled. "He's a Malfoy," the redhead hissed in Harry's ear. "His dad was a deatheater. They're a dark family!" He turned on the other boy. "Get out of here, Malfoy. You're not wanted here!"
It was at this opportune moment that a tall, slender, dark-haired boy entered the compartment with two boys mistakable for giant boulders at his side. He sneered. "Like we would sit with such filth, Weasley. That one's a mudblood, and you may as well be."
It took both Harry and Neville to hold the redhead back. "Get out of here, Nott, or I swear I'll hex you so bad, the next ten generations will feel it!" Ron growled.
"Come along, Draco. Your father won't be pleased to find you associating with such riffraff." The blonde paled. "Crabbe! Goyle!"
Ron finally settled back into his seat. "It's dark gits like them that give Wizards a bad name. I swear, all bigoted purebloods should be castrated rather than being permitted to pass on their genes."
Hermione sniffed. "So you'll be first in line, then?"
"You bet-wait a minute!" As Ron tried to reclaim what was left of his dignity, Harry sneaked a glance out into the hall at the retreating backs of the other student, one blonde head bowed in disgrace.
The sorting hat was almost a let-down after the stories that Remus and Sirius had shared during Den Nights. Both Harry and Hermione had seriously discussed the best plan of action should they actually be forced to fight a troll. Hermione had studied to the exclusion of all else in case it turned out to be in the form of a written exam. All this work had been wasted however, as McGonagall began to call up the students in alphabetical order.
Hermione wore the hat only for a minute or two before it seemed to nod and shouted for the hall.
Neville wore the hat for almost four minutes before it declared him a:
The next boy on the stool was obviously nervous. It was the blonde boy from the train. Harry noticed that not only did the boy identified as Nott watch the sorting eagerly with a sneer, but a man at the teacher's table with long blonde hair seemed to find this particular sorting of great interest. The hat seemed to be arguing with the boy-what was his name again? Draco! That was it-fiercely. After almost five minutes, the hat screamed out:
The boy sagged from his deadly perfect posture and cast a furtive glance up at the head table, before practically running to the Gryffindor table, head bowed.
Ron's silent sputterings were only silenced when a sneering Nott was firmly placed in Slytherin, and he seemed to have forgotten about it entirely when Harry was called up
Harry had watched the boy shamefacedly ask Hermione if he could sit, after the rest of the table shunned him. Hermione being Hermione glared at Ron, and nodded to the boy. She offered her hand to shake, but the boy raised it to his lips like she was a queen. Ron growled, but Hermione was charmed. Harry was so caught up by the situation that he barely noticed when the hat was placed on his head, giving a start at the first intrusive thought.
Don't worry about your sister, young man. Mr. Malfoy was well-placed regardless of what either he or you or Mr. Weasley think. Give him a chance. His courage is one that you will rarely see. You are both like and unlike him, in more ways than you know. Though you show traits of all four houses and even many of Slytherin, I do believe that you belong in:
Harry slipped into the seat next to his sister after getting past the Weasley's congratulations. Draco never looked up from his plate, so Harry returned his attention to the sorting, cheering loudly as Ron was also made a Gryffindor.
No one spoke to or mentioned the unusual boy among them. Harry and Hermione had by silent agreement decided to wait, watch, and speak with the pack parents. Throughout the meal that followed, Draco continued to glance up at the Head Table and then stare down at his picked over food. If the boy had taken more than two bites, Harry would have eaten the golden snitch.
Harry highly approved of the Gryffindor Common Room. It reminded him of their den at home, minus the mattresses. The red and gold may have been a touch redundant, but there was nothing wrong with that. Their dorm was on the first floor of the boy's tower, and their trunks were already there. Harry headed over to his second-hand trunk that had belonged to his godfather before him to find his pajamas and the sentimental note that would be tucked in next to them. He knew his pack parents.
A hesitant tap on his shoulder made him look up. "Where do I sleep?" Draco asked softly. He stood there with his pajamas hugged to his chest watching the rest of them get ready for bed.
Harry looked around and counted the beds. There were only five. "I don't know."
"Oh." Draco made no other move. He just stood there, looking completely lost. After a moment, Harry nudged Ron and sent him a pointed look. Ron gave in and called a house-elf.
The green being that appeared was decidedly female and high pitched. "Greetings from Hogwarts, I bring, young masters. How can Addie help young Masters?"
"There aren't enough beds, Addie," Harry told her politely. "Could you please get another one for Draco?"
"Addie is very sorry, sirs. Right away, Addie finds one."
"Don't put it next to mine," Ron called after her.
Harry took pity on the blonde boy. "It can go on the other side of mine, Addie, if that's alright with Draco?" A barely perceptible nod. "Okay."
Harry supervised the moving of the bed, since Draco slipped into the bathroom to change. When the blonde returned, he burrowed into the bed and hid his face from the others who were loudly analyzing his parents. Harry stayed awake for a long while studying the tiny ball in the other bed that was the unusual Gryffindor.
Draco was already up and dressed when the others dragged themselves out of bed. A Gryffindor badge was pinned over the Slytherin Snake embroidered on his expensive black robes. Ron snorted at that but a sharp elbow in his side prevented comment. He followed them down to breakfast, but once again, only picked at his food. The time-tables were passed out and Draco almost seemed to choke when he read his.
This caught Hermione's attention and she checked their schedule. "Wizarding Culture, first. That's not too bad. Sirius has told us lots of stories about the pureblood rituals and other important aspects. Professor Lucius Malfoy."
Harry looked at the blonde boy. "Is he related to you, Draco?" He already knew, but he wanted to hear the boy's response.
Draco swallowed. "My father. We better go. We can't be late."
Hermione was properly horrified by the prospect of being late to a class, particularly on the first day, and began to badger the boys to eat faster. Dragging a protesting Ron away from his third helping, they made their way to the second floor classroom. Draco remained on the outskirts of the timid group of Gryffindors, even more nervous than the rest, despite knowing the professor already. All of the Slytherins were seated at their desks, Nott sitting triumphantly in the front with what he clearly thought was a winning smile. The Gryffindors nervously took their seats, but the blonde man never looked up until the bell rang.
"Good morning, class. Some of you I've known since you were born, from the appropriate gatherings, while others, I shall have to attempt to remember the unusual surnames of. Please do not be offended if I need to check the register for such names."
Harry's anger flared at the subtle jibe at muggleborns, sliding a little closer to his sister. Ron and Neville sat just ahead of them, but he felt like they were too open with the known ex-deatheater staring at him keenly.
"When I call your name, please state 'Present, sir.' There will be no wild waving or loud 'here's. Are we clear? Good. Miss Brown . . . Mr. Crabbe . . . Dursley . . . Finnegan . . . Mr. Goyle . . . Miss Granger-Lupin . . . Miss Greengrass . . . Miss Lamb . . . Mr. Longbottom . . . Mr. Malfoy . . . Mr. Nott . . . Miss Parkinson . . . Miss Patil . . . Mr. Potter . . . Thomas . . . Weasley . . . Master Zabini."
The lack of title would have been better than the flagrant stress that he had given to both pack-member's names. And when he mentioned Draco, his voice was cool.
"Excellent. Everyone is here. Would those of you who know the traditional purpose behind pureblood debutante balls, raise your hands?"
Hermione's arm shot up. Almost every Slytherin pure-blood raised their hand, with the exception of Crabbe and Goyle who stared ahead blankly. Draco raised his hand hesitantly.
"A debutante ball is to introduce the unbetrothed pureblood women of marriageable age to high society. The debutante is hostess for the evening."
"Very good. Since you brought it up, would someone explain the concept of betrothals?" The same hands went up. "Pansy?"
"An old pure-blood family may choose to make an alliance with another family by betrothing their infant children to be married upon graduation of Hogwarts. This allows them to continue their heritage. Such couples often lead successful marriages, and usually the eldest pure-blood daughter is betrothed by her second birthday, as I was to Draco."
Harry noticed Draco turn pink and had the feeling that the blonde would like to bury his face in his hands to hide the embarrassment. Pansy reminded him of nothing more than a pug dog in both personality and appearance.
"Daphne, if one is not betrothed, than what is considered marriageable age in Wizarding Culture?"
"Excellent. And can anyone tell me the exact number of old families retaining honorary seats at the Wizengamot?"
Draco and Hermione's hands were the only ones in the air. Professor Malfoy passed over Hermione and reluctantly chose Draco. "Mr. Malfoy?"
"There are currently 27 old families listed among the honorary seats at a full Wizengamot council, and three families are battling for such seats on the basis of over fifty recognized generations."
The answer had to be right. No one could make up that kind of information, but the professor merely nodded and turned to the board, casting a spell that filled the board with notes. "Please copy this information down. Five points to Slytherin for each correct answer."
Ron spoke before Harry or Hermione could stop him. "What about Gryffindor's points? Malfoy got that last question right."
Professor Malfoy merely inclined his head thoughtfully. "Thank you for reminding me, Mr. Weasley. Five points from Gryffindor for questioning a teacher."
Harry had to twist in his seat to stomp on Ron's foot from behind, but it had the desired effect of keeping the redhead from openly protesting the unfairness. From there class proceeded in a slight downward spiral.
"Mr. Malfoy, stay behind."
Draco froze, nodded slowly, and returned to his seat, head bowed. Harry followed Ron and Hermione out the door, stopping so suddenly that Neville ran into him. "You lot go ahead."
"Harry, you'll be late for Transfiguration," Hermione protested. "Without an excuse."
"I want to watch and listen. Don't worry about it, Neenie. I'll just tell Professor McGonagall that Peeves caught me when I lagged behind the group. Hurry up and go on." With that, Harry ducked back and leaned slightly against the door, barely able to make out the conversation.
". . . Malfoy's have been Slytherins for generations. You are a disgrace to your family, Draco, a disgrace to me . . . How will you make this right?"
"By not earning Gryffindor any points," came a soft reply.
"Too right, you won't . . . any points earned, I shall remove double the amount for disgracing our name . . . quite clear . . . your punishment shall be . . . and a six foot essay on the family history due by Friday. Stand up."
At this, Harry hightailed it to Transfiguration before the pair caught him listening in. Offering his excuse to the stern professor, he took his seat only moments before Draco entered, shamefacedly handing a note to Professor McGonagall. She nodded curtly and assigned him to work with Colleen Lamb across the room. As soon as he was a fair distance away and Neville provided a spectacular diversion by making his match leap up and down on his desk and flashing neon colors, Harry hissed in Hermione's ear. "Professor Malfoy is going to take away any points that Draco earns for Gryffindor doubled in 'punishment' for 'disgracing his family name.' He also has to write a six foot essay about his family history by Friday."
"That's impossible!" Hermione squealed, turning red and going quiet when several people turned to look at her. Softly, she asked, "Do you think Draco's upset?"
"I would be. Man, am I glad that Padfoot and Moony don't act like that git."
It was exiting Defense Against the Dark Arts (which was quite possibly the most useless class yet), that Harry had caught sight of the darkening bruises across Draco's fingers as the other boy fumbled with his wand. "Ouch, what did you do, Draco?"
The other wizard abruptly shoved his hand into a pocket. "I was annoyed at my father and slammed the door on my way out, but caught my fingers in it. Father doesn't heal injuries that I cause myself through general idiocy." It was the longest sentence Draco had uttered in two days, and the style of his speaking now mimicked his father and Theodore Notts' way of speaking.
"I'd say, Malfoy! Though our definitions of idiocy probably differ. You really are a Slytherin, costing Gryffindor points like that," Ron groused.
Draco went pale. "You listened?"
"No," Harry inserted, just as Hermione offered a belated "To what?" He glared at his sister and argued. "It just stinks that you didn't get any points for Gryffindor for answering the question and then your father took off points for what Ron said."
Draco didn't believe it. "You listened! I deserved it! I disgraced the Malfoy name! I should be reminded . . ." He broke off and looked away.
Hermione's brow furrowed. "You deserved it? Why should you have to write an incredibly long essay just because an old hat decides that you belong in a different house than your father wants you to be in?"
Draco seemed to relax. "It is a disgrace to the Malfoy name to be placed in a house idealizing rashness, stupidity, and the integration of completely different worlds. It is part of my atonement to be reminded of the greatness of the surname that I bear." With that said, he disappeared into the Potions room, before Ron managed to work through the ridiculously long, awkwardly worded, and pompous sentences to be offended.
Potions proved to be as bad as Padfoot had warned them. Snape taunted the Cubs of the Pack, and refused to call on Hermione at all. He rewarded points lavishly upon the Slytherins and removed points from Gryffindor at a rate similar to Professor Malfoy. He did have one small difference though. He was kind to Draco, calling on him multiple times and rewarding him five points for each correct answer, and seeming confused when the boy sank lower and lower into his chair each time.
As they emerged from the room, Hermione consulted the tally that she had begun to keep. "So between Snape and Malfoy, we have managed to lose thirty points today."
"Not counting the thirty that Malfoy decided to lose for us in one fell swoop during Potions," Ron added nastily, just loud enough for the blonde boy ahead of them to overhear. His shoulders stiffened, but he didn't rise to Ron's bait. Sadly for Ron, Professor Snape had overheard them.
"And just what do you mean by that, Mr. Weasley?" When the redhead stuttered and stammered for two minutes without divulging any information, he turned to Draco. "My office, Mr. Malfoy."
"Yes, sir," Draco replied, head down as he followed the man.
Ron groaned. "We're never going to get the cup."
"Not if you don't learn to keep your mouth shut," Hermione huffed. "Come on, Harry. I want to hear this." The four returned to the doorway of the office, but a silencing charm prevented them from gaining any new information.
Draco received an oddly timed owl at dinner, bearing a brief message that he promptly burned, before leaving the table. Hermione called out after him, asking him where he was going. He ignored her.
It was well after curfew when Draco returned to the dormitory, and Harry was the only one awake although he feigned sleep. Draco collected his things and left for the showers to change, unlike last night. When he returned, he went straight to bed, and Harry received no information for his trouble.
So Endeth Chapter One: 'The Unexpected Gryffindor'
Chapter Two: 'Spying on Draco Malfoy' Shall be Posted Upon Friday, the 22 of September, 2006.