Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, that right belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Note: Twenty Questions took place in the spring of Harry's sixth year, this is now the start of seventh year, right after the sorting. Each chapter will hold at least two perspectives, Draco's and Harry's, using DMHP as the marker for where they switch off. Any other POV will be marked with that person's initials.
Note2: This is the story that goes with the one-shot Twenty Questions. You do not need to read it for this to make sense. I designed both so that they can both stand alone.
The Night Before
Harry sighed for the thousandth time and kneaded his temples for the second thousandth time as the Great Hall continued to buzz around him. He had not gotten drunk in almost three weeks and was now suffering the effects of quitting a habit suddenly and none to gently. After waking up in Snape's rooms at the end of last year, he had gone without any alcohol for a week or two before starting back up once safely ensconced at the Dursley's. Well, as safe as he could be under that roof in any case. Other than losing his supply of anything alcoholic when he went to stay with the Weasley's after he turned seventeen, nothing of significance had happened. He had gained a new pet in the form of an alley cat who never left his side and even now sat in his lap and cleaned his silvery grey paws. After feeding Sayre another bit off of his tray, Harry turned his attention to what his friend, and current reason for a dreadful headache, Hermione was saying about something that had been in the rumor mill for quite a while.
"They supposedly have it built in the Forbidden Forest." She clicked her tongue and scowled at something that seemed so ridiculous. It didn't sound that way to Harry, but he didn't know what they were talking about.
"Built what in the Forbidden Forest?" He asked as he took a small bite of his food in an attempt to curb his nausea and hide the increasing tremor in his hands.
"Honestly, Harry. You need to learn to pay more attention!" Hermione admonished, but opened her mouth to answer his question anyway.
"Quiet, quiet. Now is the time for announcements," Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled as he stood and remained silent until all of the student body and faculty looked at him, "As so many of you seem to be talking about a building in the Forbidden Forest, I think that now would be a good time to tell you of an amazing idea that our wonderful Potion's Master had," At this everyone turned shocked eyes on a scowling Snape. Harry's own narrowed as vague memories of a game of twenty questions came to mind. There wasn't anything substantial that he could remember, so he pushed it into the back of his conscious thought, "He came to me at the end of the last school year with a theory. A theory that as children grow older their personalities change. That means that the House they were originally Sorted into could possibly change.
"Due to those insightful words, this year will see the beginning of a new Hogwarts tradition. The Seventh year ReSorting. Tomorrow morning, right after breakfast, all Seventh Years will put on the Sorting Hat again and figure out which House they belong in now," Dumbledore started to gesticulate wildly, obviously enamoured with the idea, "All summer we have spent preparing separate dorms in the Forbidden Forest. Four in total. They will be housing the newly sorted Seventh years and their year-mates. They can be reached safely from the school through a tunnel that is now located under the castle. Four additions will be made to the staff here to supplement the loss of the four teachers who will be moving to oversee the students. Those two teachers will be Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, and Severus Snape. Further information regarding this will be given after the ReSorting. Now, goodnight!" With that everyone was dismissed and Harry stood up slowly, making sure to balance himself as Sayre jumped to the floor.
He really needed to stop drinking for good.
Harry followed behind Ron and Hermione, noticing the several feet of awkward distance between them. They had tried a relationship last year, unfortunately it hadn't worked and ever since then they had been like this. Distant. Awkward. Cold. Harry hated it and the way that they had started to use him as a buffer. He knew the reason that they had broken up. Both Ron and Hermione had fallen in love with other people. People that, like Draco, was out of their reach. None of the three wanted to admit to each other who it was, but Harry would bet his life that they were all Slytherins.
And speaking of Slytherins...
Draco Malfoy was several feet in front of them, laughing with his friends and his arm slung around Pansy Parkinson's shoulders. Harry felt his heart twist, but he ignored it. He knew that Draco Malfoy would never be his. Nonetheless, it still hurt to see him with someone else. Shaking his head, Harry reminded himself that after this year he would never see the blond again, so it was a mote point to even look at him.
As he turned to head up the stairs to get to Gryffindor tower, passing by the Slytherins who had stopped to let the first year snakes pass with their prefects, Ron stopped dead in his tracks, causing Harry to run into his taller frame and fall backward. Luckily he was able to grab the banister and hold on, but with the trembling he couldn't hold on for long and his hand slipped. Harry tumbled down the few steps to the bottom and landed on his back, looking up into the smirking face of the one person Harry truly did not need to see in his current frame of mind. Draco Malfoy removed his arm from around Pansy's shoulders and extended his hand.
"Geez, Potter. I know you liked me, but I didn't know you had fallen so hard." Harry didn't have the energy to glare. He grasped the hand and allowed himself to be pulled up.
"Thanks, Malfoy. I guess." He sounded tired, and he knew it, but he couldn't bring himself to care. All he wanted to do was get to the Room of Requirement and ask it for a year supply of Firewhiskey, but he couldn't do that either. Instead, he turned and walked upstairs, listening to his two friends' footsteps as they followed him, petting Sayre when he jumped up onto Harry's shoulder and nuzzled his neck.
Draco frowned as he watched Potter climb the stairs. He had sounded exhausted, as if nothing in the world mattered to him anymore. Somehow, that didn't seem right for the Gryffindor to feel like that. Potter had everyone and everything he could ever want. Shrugging, Draco shook himself out of his reverie and walked with his two best friends into the Slytherin dormitories, this time with Pansy firmly snuggled up to Blaise's side. This was one habit that the Seventh year Slytherin's, himself in particular, allowed to be seen outside of the common rooms, for more than one reason.
The first was because it cultivated a certain image about the trio that instantly set off any would-be suitors. Draco enjoyed this bit immensely, for he preffered to find his partners on his own and not have them come to him. This was because of the little fact that he could be just a little bit possessive of whoever he shared his bed with, more so than he was with his friends. They had to be able to tolerate that, if not enjoy it, which so far no one had. The few people who he had deemed worthy had proven to have a distaste for his possessive nature. So, he used Pansy's inherent clinginess to keep away idle fans and admirers.
The second reason that they allowed this display of emotion was because of her father and mother. The Parkinson's were one of the oldest bloodlines in pureblood history and her parents had high expectations of their only child. They were even stricter than Draco's parents had been. Several times he had had to go get her and bring her to stay with him, when her punishment for low grades or something petty and meaningless that his parents or Blaise's mom would have just let slide with a lecture. She needed the physical contact, so they gave it to her without qualms.
Once they were deeper into Slytherin territory Pansy turned to Draco and Blaise, a small smirk fixed onto her face, "The ReSorting sounds like an interesting idea," They nodded and she continued, "Maybe that Weasley boy in our year will be Sorted into Slytherin."
"Pansy, just because you like Gryffindors doesn't mean the rest of us do." Blaise stated airily, sticking his nose into the air.
"Zabini, we all know that you fancy Granger, so kindly shut up." Draco sneered at them as he crossed his arms.
"You just don't know them like we do, Draco darling." Pany patted his arm comfortingly and Draco just raised an eyebrow at them.
"Weasel is definitely not Slytherin material, Pansy." She just giggled at his scathing tone.
"Do you think we'll stay in Slytherin?" Was her next question, and despite the breezy tone overlaying her voice, Draco could hear the underlaying worry.
"Pansy, you had to convince the hat to put you into Slytherin over Gryffindor. If given the choice again, where would you go?" Blaise asked bluntly, instead of the subtle questions and hints employed by most Slytherins to confuse the members of the other Houses. Draco rolled his eyes as he imagined what was going through Pansy's mind.
One thing that Draco understood without a doubt was that all Slytherin's have a weakness. Blaise had one, Pansy had one, and even Draco had one. To him it was a flaw in their pureblood makeup, that somehow made them weaker. One thing that Draco despised was weakness. He was a pureblooded Malfoy, following in the long standing tradition of ruling over Slytherin House, but never demeaning themselves to the level of professor. Malfoy's did not do that. Malfoy's also never abandoned their friends or family. Pansy fell under both without a lick of doubt.
"Please, Zabini, even if she did, we could never get rid of her. She's like a disease." Draco scoffed and paused only long enough to speak the password for the Slytherin dormitories. They walked inside and sat comfortably in their usual spots near the fire. This time with Pansy curled up in an armchair now that no prying eyes could see her and tell the rest of the school.
Even Slytherin's had honor, after all.
"Draco's right, Pansy. Even if you were ReSorted into Gryffindor, you would still be a Slytherin." Blaise crossed his legs and leaned into the back of the seat while tucking wavy black hair behind one ear.
Draco sneered as he lounged on a divan, one arm thrown over the back and one knee bent upwards. He looked over at them, loosening his tie with the other hand.
"I draw the line at Hufflepuff."
END CHAPTER 1
End of first chap. Whatcha think?