AHAHA HOLY SHIT IT'S BEEN LIKE 4 YEARS PLEASE FORGIVE ME. This fic has been fricken HAUNTING me like an incompetent poltergeist and every DAMN TIME I tried to write another chapter, I got the worlds worst writing block like YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW the amount of times I tried to update. ;_; BUT I WILL COMPLETE THIS FIC OR DIE TRYING. I have a whole outline done (except for year 6. What am I going to do with you, year 6? D: ) sooooo we're good. Yes. AHahahaaaaaa don't kill me.


Conversation in the compartment was…awkward. Draco, his awesome new servant, kept talking about things and Harry was determined to hide the fact that he didn't know anything and ruin his image forever.

So there they were. Sitting quietly, their respective noses buried in books. Every now and then Draco would open his mouth like he'd try to say something, catch Harry's intent look of I'm-Reading-Very-Seriously-So-Don't-Even-BREATHE-In-My-Direction-You-Peasant and change his mind. This went on for a few very long hours until the heavens granted a reprieve.

"Snacks, dears?" an older, plump woman asked, strolling in with a cart full of the most glorious looking things Harry had ever seen.

Candy.

Magical Candy.

Literally magical, not the 'wow this sure is really good you could almost say its magical' but actual, probably-sprinkled-with-fairy-dust-and-baked-by-mermaids, magical, sugary stuff.

Harry inhaled sharply. "Draco."

The blond paused in searching his robes for a few stray galleons and gave his new friend (Harry Potter. Harry Potter was his friend! This was so going in his diary tonight and Blaise could suck it because Harry Potter was his friend!) an inquisitive look. "Yes?"

"Buy it for me."

"Buy what for you?"

Harry gestured at the cart.

Draco's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What, the whole thing?"

Harry stared at him like it should have been obvious.

Draco snorted. "Yeah, I'm not-"

"Draco." Harry said, interrupting, "I would very much like all of the candy. All of it. It would make me happy. You should want to make me happy. Don't you love me? I thought what we had was…special." Harry had learned in his many readings that there were a few ways one could go about getting things for free. As Draco was his servant and had saved him from a deviant, Harry was feeling charitable and didn't want to go down the road of 'DO THIS THING OR I'LL MAIM YOU AND KILL YOUR FAMILY'. That narrowed down his choices. The books were firm in mentioning that appealing to all that 'love' nonsense had a good chance of working and as a servant, Draco should love him and cherish the ground he walked on, right? Harry was pretty sure that's what the books meant. He wasn't quite sure what all that…'showing some leg and batting your eyelashes' crap had been about, so he'd ignore that part.

Draco's face quickly took on a very red hue and he stammered for what was probably the first time in his life. "Uh- Harry. No. I mean, wait-" He paused. He definitely wanted to have 'something special' with Harry Potter. Did that mean they were really good friends? Like, super friends?

Or…

He withheld a gasp.

Were they…boyfriends?

His older cousins were always talking about having boyfriends and how fun it was and how they'd get presents from them like all the time and does this dress make me look fat do you think maybe I should stop eating cake for breakfast-

No no, wait. He was getting off track.

So if he was Harry Fricken' Potter's boyfriend, he should be…buying him things. Yes. That's how that worked, he thought.

Because why else would Harry ask him for stuff and ask about love and 'special bonds'? It made sense.

Draco puffed out his chest. He'd be the best boyfriend!

The trolley lady stood silently by the doors as all that internalized drama was in progress, an unmoving smile on her face. Those little bastards clearly had no idea that she was on a fucking schedule and why wizard-god why couldn't they keep their little dumb hormones in their dumb pants and stop making googly-eyes at each other and-

This -this was why she drank.

Those asshole kids finally got their act together and the blond (a Malfoy. Had to be a Malfoy. Goddamn Malfoys and their goddamn gold spending more on sweets than she made in a month should be a fucking crime-) handed her a bag of galleons and nonchalantly told her to keep the rest like he was doing her a fucking favor that little bastard.

"All of it, dear? Alright, if you're sure! Don't get a stomachache now from all that chocolate, my loves!" She left the cart (someone else could get it later she was so done with this shit she should be retired by now goddamn it where did she put that bottle of firewhiskey) and barely refrained from slamming the door on her way out.

Draco proudly swept his hand in the general direction of the trolley. It had cost him half of his weekly allowance but he was totally such an awesome boyfriend. Harry oohed appreciatively, rewarding his servant (omg the best servant) with a beaming smile and dove into the candy. He was a few handfuls in before he realized that it would probably be a good idea to slow down before he threw up everywhere because dark lords didn't pull that kind of crap. It was…unseemly. And right in front of his shiny new servant, ugh.

The rest of the trip was uneventful, alternating between Harry stuffing his face and Draco blushing at odd moments while giving Harry compliments on the shininess of his hair and the greenness of his eyes. Harry didn't know what that was about but whatever, maybe that's just what devoted servants did. How was he to know? His previous servants were a bunch of idiots, so this was a nice change of pace either way.

Finally, they arrived. Draco assured Harry that they could leave their trunks and they made their way off the train. Harry spotted that giant man-beast herding the other children into some sort of wobbly line and just about died of embarrassment when the oaf looked at him and yelled out a greeting for all the world to hear.

Oh god. The hairy indentured servant was…talking to him like they were friends. In front of witnesses. So many witness. They'd all probably have to be killed now-

Harry made a strangled sort of noise.

"I just want it on record that I hate that man." Harry quickly blurted out so that his minion didn't get the wrong idea.

"Well, obviously." Draco wrinkled his nose in distaste. He should tell his father about how uppity The Help was in this place. Speaking to his boyfriend like that, the nerve!

After a long and unnecessary boat ride across a lake (Harry dearly regretted never learning to swim) they arrived at a large, majestic castle. Harry felt torn. On one hand, giant castle. On the other hand, another cliché. But castles were cool. Harry himself one day wanted a castle. So there was…that.

His general distaste for the magical world was warring with his glee over living in a castle and it was making him a bit grumpy. Having to then wait in a hall with a bunch of peasants while waiting to be collected by a professor didn't improve his mood either.

He was distracted from his thoughts by a bunch of freakin' ghosts floating across the room.

The ghosts, having been having their own conversation about the uselessness and grave ineptitude of the resident poltergeist, suddenly shuddered to a halt. They felt…odd. And slightly terrified. They glanced around the hall, looking for the cause of the feeling of imminent death (re-death? Death the 2nd?) and, finding nothing, they came to the quick consensus that a strategic withdraw was in order. None of them understood why, but they could discuss that later when they didn't feel like they were going to expel ectoplasm from their nether-regions.

Later, the professors would question why all the ghosts were hiding in the Forbidden Forest.

The ghosts, flustered, would claim that they were simply fostering solidarity and friendships through camping, thank you very much, and they didn't appreciate the 3rd degree from a bunch of fleshies. No one brought up why the "camping trip" lasted a good few weeks before the ghosts began to hesitantly trickle back in to Hogwarts, thoroughly sick of all the nature and spiders.

To Harry, it looked like the ghosts froze and then scattered like a bunch of startled pigeons. Ghosts were, he decided, way less cool than he always imagined.

Rolling his eyes, he continued waiting. He ignored whatever dumb conversation was happening behind him (but seriously if they made him fight a troll he was calling the police for child endangerment) and huffed impatiently. Just as he was thinking about going to find the owner of this place and complaining about the lack of service, a stern woman appeared and led them into a big ol' room filled with the other students.

The first years around him oohed and ahhed about the ceiling quietly and Harry peaked at it out of curiosity.

"It's charmed to look like the sky!" a girl whispered nearby, thoroughly impressed.

"Wow, yes." Harry whispered back, "It's almost like one of those sky-lights you see all over the place, isn't it?"

The bushy haired girl shot him an irritated glare and proceeded to ignore him from then on. Harry didn't much care.

And then the hobo hat that was placed on a stool by a professor began to sing and Harry just about gave up on life. He desperately hoped all the hats didn't sing because god help him if he was now living in some sort of magical musical where accessories belted out a tune whenever they fricken' felt like it. He momentarily wondered about his own wizard hats that were stuffed down somewhere on the bottom of his trunk. He would burn them as soon as he could, just in case. Yes.

Finally, after what felt like ten thousand years, the hat shut-up and began to call out the students' names.

Neville Longbottom, his first magical servant who was still sending him petrified little glances, was placed in Gryffindor. Harry vaguely recalled hearing that Gryffindor was supposed to be the house of the brave and decided that not only was the hat absolute rubbish at singing, it was also drunk.

Draco, his super awesome minion, was promptly placed in Slytherin and shot him satisfied looks while preening like a peacock. Harry, being a generous lord, gave him a thumbs up.

And then the hat called out 'Harry Potter' and he strolled up to the stool amidst ego-boosting loud whispers of "Wow, Harry Potter!" and "I can't believe it's him!"

Yes, peasants. Marvel at your new god.

Harry had a moment of anxiety as the hat was placed on his head (oh god that can't be sanitary. One of those people probably has lice or fleas. Oh god.) but reminded himself not to look week in front of the people. If his servants could do it, so could he!

He would just…wash his hair extra good tonight.

Eww.

"Young man, I do not have fleas!"

And now he was hearing voices. That's it, he was done. He had clearly suffered a psychological break sometime in the near past and now he was crazy and how could he take over the world if he was crazy it just wasn't done-

"You are not crazy. I am the Sorting Hat, talking to you. I repeat, you are not crazy so if you could stop your monologuing for a second I would greatly appreciate it."

Oh.

"Yes, 'Oh'. Now, where should I put you? Hufflepuff is-"

No, their color scheme sucks. He didn't look good in yellow.

"-not right for you. I can't say anyone has ever called you a 'hard-worker' in your life, you lazy child."

Excuse you.

Hobo hat was giving him sass.

"Oh hush, I'm just calling it as I see it. Hmm, not Gryffindor either, I think – listen you, the color schemes of the houses are hardly relevant! I don't care if red clashes with your eyes! Sweet Merlin, be quiet for just a second!"

Rude.

"Ravenclaw is a maybe, you certainly like to read. Hmm. But then, Slytherin is a far better fit. Don't think I didn't hear all that nonsense about 'world-domination' a minute ago."

Nonsense!?

"I get one of your kind every few years or so. They generally mellow out after they get laid."

?

"…Forget I said that. Not important. Shh. Right, better be SLYTHERIN!"

Harry stumbled to the Slytherin table amidst dead silence from the hall and smug looks from the other Slytherin students. Draco looked absurdly pleased as he patted the space on the bench next to him.

Harry was distracted.

There were others like him. Others with his plans. But they were derailed and never completed their task because…

'Get laid.'

What did that mean?


And so Harry is sorted into Slytherin, a fact that I'm sure completely shocked everyone and no one ever saw coming like it was totally obvious. :D

Also – 11 year olds are stupid and no, Draco. You're not dating. Poor dumb bastard.

Next update will be sooner than 4 years!

Is anyone still even reading this though? o_o