A/N – This chapter is based off chapter 7: The Sorting Hat from Harry Potter and The Sorcerer's Stone. A lot of the dialogue will be the same, because this is the beginning and I wanted to keep some things the same so it would help the story flow more.

So again, you will recognize a lot. Most chapters will be loosely based off JKR's actual book.

Please review if you get a chance! I love feedback! (:


Chapter One

"Malfoy, Draco!"

Draco grinned and swaggered over up the few steps that led to the stool. He sat down and felt the Sorting Hat drop on his head, coming down far enough to cover his entire forehead. He could see Potter and Weaslebee in the crowd, giving him a sour look. He had to stop himself from scoffing.

"Hmmmm, another Malfoy." The sorting hat purred, pulling him out of his thoughts. He glanced up and was met with the brown rim of the hat.

"You'd be great in Slytherin, no doubt about that." It mumbled to itself. Draco felt a small bit of pride at the comment. Of course he'd be great there – there wasn't a Malfoy who hadn't been in Slytherin. "Hmmmm, I can see some bravery hidden – maybe even some questions? You're not completely rotten, not yet"

What did that mean?

"Very prideful, dangerously so….but where to put you?"

"Oye," Draco began, "You already said I'd be great in Slytherin." He kept his voice low so only the hat could hear him, he didn't want to be seen causing any commotion.

"Yes, yes I did…" The hat was quiet for a moment, "You remind me of someone, related to you ironically...Hmmmm….difficult, very difficult."

Draco's face scrunched together in confusion; he didn't see what was so difficult about it. He took a small breath and kept himself from throwing the hat on the ground and stomping over to the Slytherin table. The Sorting Hat obviously had no idea what it was talking about – it was just as crazy as Dumbledore was.

"You have the desire to be different, something your father didn't have. - the desire to be someone. Slytherin could help you achieve that, but Gryffindor could as well…"

Draco's eye went wide and he felt his stomach drop.

"Better be….GRYFFINDOR!" It shouted, it's voice booming around the Great Hall.

He was completely stunned. He didn't move. His mouth went dry and when he glanced around the room he saw that everyone was wearing the same expression as him. Wide eyes were staring at him across all four tables. Draco glanced over at Professor McGonagall, she was staring at him with wide eyes as well.

Draco came back to his senses quickly and opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by McGonagall, "Go on dear." She whispered, lifting the hat off of his head and giving him a reassuring pat on the back.

Just as Draco stood the sound of someone clapping echoed through the room. He glanced over his shoulder to see none other than Dumbledore standing up with a kind smile on his face, clapping. All the professors started to clap then, except for Snape who was glowering down at him. Finally the Gryffindor table started to clap and a few of the older year students started to wave him over.

"Go on then Draco." McGonagall whispered again.

He felt rooted to the spot. How had this happened?

The sound of someone snickering shook his panic away and he looked over in the first year crowd to see Blaise Zabini chuckling at him, a wicked grin on his face. Draco glared at the other boy and finally walked down the few steps he had just climbed and with shaking legs he walked over to the Gryffindor table.

He glanced around for an empty seat and groaned on the inside when he saw one of the only available seats was next to Neville Longbottom. He sat down quickly though, hoping some of the attention would be taken off of him.

"Looks like we've got us a Malfoy, Fred!"

"Seems that way George!"

"What should we do with him? Little guy looks like he's just eaten a bogey flavored Bertie Bott's!"

Draco looked over at what he presumed to be the Weasley twins and closed his eyes in frustration and then averted his gaze back onto the table. What was he going to do? His mother was going to be so upset .

His father was going to be furious.

No Malfoy had ever been in Gryffindor, ever. He was going to be disowned and burned off the family tree and cast aside.

What had The Sorting Hat been thinking?


The Great Hall grew silent once again and even I Draco's current state of shock he turned to look at "The-Boy-Who-Lived." His shaggy black hair was a completely mess, which seemed to be normal for him. His lightning bolt scar was in the middle of his forehead, visible past his mess of hair. His deep green eye popped out from behind the black hair and once he sat down on the stool he looked like he wanted to disappear.

McGonagall dropped the hat on his head a moment later and it sat on his head awkwardly, coming past his ears.

The Sorting hat and Potter looked as if they were having a small discussion. Draco hated to admit it but he was interested in where the famous boy wonder was going to be placed. He had known the boy's name since he was born, his entire life he had heard of him. Harry Potter this and The-Boy-Who-Lived that. He watched as Potter closed his eyes and started to mumble something he couldn't hear. A moment later, the hat smiled;


The entire Great Hall burst into applause, Gryffindor being the most animated. Draco glanced around and realized he was one of the only people who wasn't clapping. Everyone at the Gryffindor table was standing up and waving him over excitedly, Fred and George Weasley being the most rambunctious. He glanced over and saw Dumbledore along with every other Professor standing up and clapping with wide grins on their faces, except for Snape, who was staring at Potter with a scorned look on his face.

Potter slowly slipped off the stool and walked over to the table, smiling broadly the entire way. Draco looked around and realized the only seat available was next to him and he kept himself from groaning. He watched as Potter ended up almost tripping over his own feet as his green eyes glanced over the entire area and eventually locked eyes with Draco and slowly he walked over and sat down next the blonde, glaring the entire walk over.

He sat down and didn't say a word, which Draco was completely fine with. He didn't want to be seen talking to such a prat in the first place. He could see Potter eyeing him out of the corner of his eyes and kept himself from rolling his.

Potter had nothing to worry about, after the banquet was over he'd march straight to Dumbledore and demand a house change.


"Ugh, that one."

Draco snorted at the comment and looked over to see that a girl with bushy brown hair was rolling her big brown eyes at the red head that was walking over to sit on the stool. She glanced over at Draco and crossed her arms. She seemed to be observing him for a moment and then she took a dramatic deep breath, "You seemed disappointed with the Sorting Hat's choice." Her voice was very matter of fact sounding, which made Draco cross is own arms.

"You're very observant." He replied, his tone rather snarky. He narrowed his grey eyes at her, "Who are you? I didn't recognize your name." In all honesty he didn't remember her name.

"Oh." Her whole attitude seemed to change in a split second and she broke out into a smile, "My names Hermione Granger." She stuck her hand out over the table, he shook it after a moment of debating with himself and dropped it a fraction of a second later. "You probably haven't heard of me because my parents are muggles."

Draco narrowed his eyes again without realizing it. A mudblood? He had just shaken a mudblood's hand? He wiped his hand off against his robes and nodded at her. He was surrounded by Gryffindors, bloody mudblood lovers. "I see." He said, he was actually thankful that the table broke out into a cheer again. He turned his head to see that the youngest Weasley was walking over and took the other seat beside Potter.

"Blimey, that hat sure does know how to make your skin crawl." Draco heard him mutter.

Potter nodded, "I had to beg it not to put me in Slytherin."

"You begged it to put you here?" Draco turned to face him them, not being able to suppress his surprise. How? He had told the sorting hat that –

No he hadn't. He hadn't told the sorting at a thing. He only repeated what the Sorting Hat had mumbled to itself.

Potter was giving him a strange look, "Of course I did, I didn't want to be stuck in that lot over there." He nodded to the Slytherin table.

Draco narrowed his eyes, "That lot is a lot better than this one." He shook his head, how could this be The-Boy-Who-Lived. The boy who had changed the wizarding world? How was it that he turned out to be a prat?

Potter leaned forward, "Well Malfoy, if that lots so great than why are you over here?" His green eyes were narrowed, and his voice was condescending.

"That bloody hat made a mistake!" Draco hollered, "I don't belong here." He spread his arms out in front of him and gestured to the whole table, "Don't worry, Potter," He felt like saying the other boy's name was a curse, "I won't be here for long."

"You can't just change houses; once you're sorted it's done." Hermione's voice interrupted their argument and Draco snapped his head over to her and narrowed his eyes once again, she shrugged at them and then continued her conversation with Prefect Weasley.

"Bloody know it all, that one." The youngest Weasley mumbled, propping his elbow on the table and setting his head in his hand. His eyes landed on Draco and a small grin appeared on his face, "Not so high and mighty now are ya Malfoy."

"Shut up Weaslebee."


"How about you sod off Malfoy?" Weasley shot back, "Who are you now without those brainless goons of yours?"

The grin that Weasley had on his face was starting to get under Draco's skin. He could feel his blood start to boil – how dare they speak to him like that. Didn't they know who he was? He gritted his teeth together and clenched his fists. "Wanna tell me what it's like to have a hand me down wand Weasley?" He shot back, not having anything else to really say. He was so angry he could hex the other boy right then and there.


"You're pathetic Malfoy." Potter interjected, "Is that all you have? At least Ron's a good person; no one will be friends with the likes of you." His green eyes were blazing and he turned abruptly away from the blonde, who was still sitting there trying his best not to scream.


Draco turned to see who had made Slytherin house and kept himself from groaning. Blaise Zabini hopped off the stool and made his way over to the Slytherin table. How?! How had this happened to him!? Draco cracked his knuckles and took a deep breath. It would be okay, he'd fix this before his father found out.

"You look pale." Granger's voice broke through the cheers, "Gryffindors not that bad is it?" When Draco looked at her he saw that she seemed to be asking a genuine question. "I read all about the different houses over the summer, but I suppose there are things they don't write down." She was giving him a strange look, awaiting his answer, almost like she was hanging on every word he was about to say.

"It's for brainless idiots." He spat, "Slytherin is for the great."

She took in the information and raised an eyebrow at him, "I doubt that's true."

"Well what would you know about it?" he sneered at her, his blonde hair getting in his face. He pushed it back roughly, "My family has been in Slytherin for generations – this is a mistake."

"The Sorting Hat doesn't make mistakes." Neville Longbottom's voice broke through the cheering. He looked like he regretted speaking the second Draco looked over at him.

"It obviously does Longbottom – isn't Gryffindor for the brave?" Draco snapped at him.

"Hey Fred, it looks like we've for a cranky Malfoy."

"Seems that way George, maybe we should do something about it?"

Draco looked up at the twins who seemed to be plotting, "Leave. Me. Alone." He said while trying to get his thoughts into order.

Everything would be alright. All he had to do was talk to Dumbledore, as much as his father didn't like the man, Draco was sure that the Headmaster would understand that this was a mistake. There was no way he was meant to be in this house. Absolutely no way in hell.

Dumbledore stood up a moment later. He was smiling from ear to ear, looking over every table with delight. He held his arms out wide as if he were hugging all of them at once, and then spoke. "Welcome!" He announced, "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" He paused for a moment, as if he was letting everyone soak in all the information, "Thank you!"

He sat back down and turned to Professor McGonagall, who had taken her place next to him right after she was done sorting. Everyone cheered, well everyone except for Draco and Potter.

"Is he…a bit mad?" Potter asked the Prefect Weasley brother, Percy.

"Yes." Draco offered.

"Mad?" Percy laughed, "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! However, he is a bit mad, yes." Potter glared at Draco and listened Percy, "Potatoes, Harry?"

Draco watched as Potter soaked all of the information in, and was amused when he saw the boy's mouth drop open when all the food appeared on their table suddenly. He stared at it for a moment in what looked like disbelief. It was as if he'd never seen so much food before. Draco watched as Potter piled a bit of everything onto his plate, still looking amazing.

"That does look good." Said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching as Potter cut his steak.

"Can't you – ?" Potter began.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Of course they can't eat Potter, are you mad?" He hadn't meant to answer the question; he just couldn't believe that the amazing 'Boy-Who-Lived' seemed to know nothing about the wizarding world.

Potter looked like he was about to say something to the blonde, but was beaten by the ghost, "Don't worry boy, he's right." The ghost gestured to Draco, "I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years. I don't need to of course, but one does miss it." The ghost paused for a moment, "I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimys-Porpington, at your service! Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower!" It finished with much pride, smiling from ear to ear.

Draco started to pile some food onto his plate, "I know who you are!" The youngest Weasley, said suddenly, "My brothers told me about you – you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

The ghost narrowed its eyes, "I would prefer you call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy!" He replied stiffly while crossing his arms.

"Nearly headless? How can you be nearly headless?" Granger's voice broke into the conversation and Draco had to stop himself from grinning. His father had told him all about the ghosts at Hogwarts.

"Like, this!" The ghost said irritably. He grabbed the top if his head and tore it to the side of his shoulder. The top part of his neck looked as if it was holding on by a strand. Granger yelped, as did the youngest Weasley. Potter looked sick and Draco couldn't stop himself from laughing. Looking pleased with most of the stunned looks on the children's faces, he flipped his head back into place, "So, new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the House Cup this year? We've gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable – he's the Slytherin ghost." He gestured behind him toward the Slytherin table.

Draco grinned, of course Slytherin had won – it was the best house. It was the house he should have been a part of. He glanced over at the Slytherin table and saw the Bloody Baron sitting there staring with his blank eyes, gaunt face and robes stained with silver blood. He was sitting next to Zabini, which made Draco grin even more.

"How'd he get covered in blood like that?" asked a random boy, who Draco was pretty sure named Seamus.

"I've never asked," Nearly Headless Nick said with a wave of his hand.

Draco was silent the rest of the feast. He felt more than uncomfortable. Everyone around him was carrying on their own conversations, which he was more than glad he wasn't a part of. He hated this – part of him wanted to just stand up and walk over to the Slytherin table but didn't want to make a fool of himself.

"I'm half-and-half." Draco heard the boy he thought was named Seamus say, "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him!" Everyone around him laughed and Draco had to bite the corners of his mouth so he wouldn't grin.

"What about you Neville?" The youngest Weasley asked.

Longbottom jumped slightly, as if he hadn't expected anyone to talk to him. "Well um – my gran brought me up and she's a witch but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me – he pushed me off the end of the Blackpool Pier once, I nearly drowned." Draco kept himself from snorting, "Nothing happened 'til I was eight though. Great Unle Algie came around for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Aunti Enid offered him a meringue and he accidently let go. But I bounced – all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here – they thought I might not be magic enough to come you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad, Trevor."

Draco snorted and bit his lips so he wouldn't laugh outright, he grabbed his stomach from the pain and eventually laughed. Just imagining Longbottom bouncing around hysterical was too much for him.

"Thanks Malfoy." Longbottom muttered.

Draco continued to snicker, "At least they were wrong?" He offered, almost feeling bad because of the embarrassment on Longbottom's face.

"Yeah…at least they were wrong."

Draco went into his own little world after that. Everyone around him seemed to be in their own conversations and he sat there staring at the table. He couldn't wrap his mind around it - how? Why was the real question though, why had that happened? It really did seem like some sick joke to him.

His father would be so disappointed.

Malfoy's were meant for Slytherin – for Greatness. How had Draco ended up in Gryffindor? It made no sense to him no matter how many times he ran the scenario through his head.

"Ahem!" Draco jumped slightly from the sudden noise and glanced over at the High Table to see Dumbledore standing up once again, "Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." His twinkling eyes seemed to land on the Weasley twins, who winked back at him.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch."

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a painful death"

Draco felt the blood drain from his face, "He's not serious?" Potter asked Prefect Weasley.

"Must be," Percy began, frowning. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason we're not allowed to go somewhere – the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us Prefect at least."

"And now! Before we go to bed let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore cried, his smile going from ear to ear.

Draco tuned out the rest of what the old bloke had to say. He agreed with his father, Dumbledore was rather odd.

His whole table stood up and he watched as Potter, Weasley, Longbottom and Granger all followed Percy, along with the other first years.

He jumped up quickly and walked over to stand in front of the ledge that was before the High Table. All the professors seemed to ignore him. He cleared his throat and crossed his arms, trying his best to wait patiently. He stood there for a few moments and right as he was about to speak up Dumbledore turned to face him.

"Is there something wrong Mr. Malfoy?" His voice was gentle and he stepped down off the ledge to stand next to the blonde.

"Yes Professor," He began, "I believe the Sorting Hat made a mistake. You see, I'm supposed to be in Slytherin."

Dumbledore smiled at him and placed a hand on his head, "Mr. Malfoy, I assure you that the Sorting Hat puts you where you are suited best."

Draco kept himself from narrowing his eyes at the old man, "I don't get along with any of them, honestly sir – I believe the hat made a mistake."

Dumbledore was quiet for a moment, his hand still resting on Draco's head. "I will admit that I'm rather surprised where you've been placed, but the Sorting Hat does not make mistakes. Many people who are in Gryffindor would do well in Slytherin, and vice versa. They are two sides of the same coin." He ruffled Draco's hair and smiled, "I promise you Draco, you are where you should be."

Draco's mouth hung open for a moment. "I – but sir – !"

"Goodnight Mr. Malfoy." Dumbledore winked at him and then turned to walk away, leaving Draco there standing rather dumbly.

The blonde turned to see that Percy had waited for him, along with all the other first years. He swallowed hard, unable to actually comprehend what he had just been told. He was stuck! He was in Gryffindor, he was a Gryffindor. He walked toward the Prefect Weasley and stood at the end of the line.

It couldn't be real; there was no way that was actually happening. It was a bad dream and Draco would wake up and just be getting on the train to Hogwarts.

He followed the people in front of him blindly and didn't listen to a word that Percy was saying. He ran smack into the back of Longbottom and muttered an apology without really thinking about it. Neville turned around and stared at Draco for a second, looking as if he was debating on saying something. He turned around a moment later, apparently changing his mind.


The blonde stopped himself from jumping and turned to see that Neville was looking at him once again, "What Longbottom?"

"Did you hear what the password was?" He asked rather sheepishly, Draco shook his head. "It's um - Caput Draconis."

Draco stared at the boy in front of him and sighed on the inside. "Thanks Longbottom." He said. They stood there staring at each other for a moment, "Well go on." He ushered to the open portrait, "Don't get left behind."

He nodded and turned around and made his way through the door, Draco right behind him. They squeezed through a small corridor that led out into a huge room decorated in red and yellow. Red couches and love seats were plastered all over the place, along with armchairs. It was rather comfortable, if Draco was being honest. There was a fire going and there were bookshelves along the walls and desks as well.

Draco let himself be directed by Prefect Weasley to the boy's dormitory and made a beeline to his bed. He didn't say a word to anyone around him, and was actually thankful his bed was right next to Neville. At least he knew not to bother him. He glanced at all belongings and saw the Gryffindor colored robes on his trunk.

What was he going to do?

He pushed all the thoughts aside and changed into his bed robes. He crawled into bed and shut the curtains around him. He closed his eyes, hoping that when he'd wake up he'd be at Malfoy Manor, just leaving to go to Platform 9 ¾

I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know how it went! (: