Harry noticed plenty that week. First was reading about the break-in at Gringotts as Voldemort (Harry knew) had gone after the Philosopher's Stone. Speculation had run rampant as to what and who had tried to get into the bank, but no one knew what had been taken and the bank wasn't saying, simply giving the story that the contents had been moved earlier. Harry didn't dwell on it since he already knew full well who had done what. And he didn't much particularly care for how the maniac had done it: he wasn't planning a career of robbing banks anytime soon.
Second and more immediate was Neville Longbottom's stuck up attitude and rowdy allusions that he was the cream of the wizarding crop that year and that anyone who was listening would be hard pressed to find a better role model. The older students who had been a little anxious to meet the killing curse survivor quickly began to keep their distance after listening to him go on and on about himself. It bothered Harry on a certain level that some of his fellow first-years were actually buying into that load of rubbish he was spewing.
Draco Malfoy was not one of those and took every opportunity to point out Longbottom's shortcomings, real or imagined. The only real difference between the two, Harry thought, was that Draco was actually smarter and knew not to push Harry.
This Draco was not like his last one: that was for certain. While both Dracos were smart, this one actually used his intelligence instead of sounding like a recruiting poster for the dumb and stupid. Other than the one time they'd talked, Malfoy had yet to corner him in a secluded hallway or in a crowded room and present his hand in friendship like Longbottom had done several times. That was a good thing since it saved Harry laughing straight in his face. Again, like what had happened with Longbottom.
Earlier that day Harry had talked with Professor Sprout and informed her he was going to move into the boy's rooms for a few weeks and check things out there. Professor Sprout had been pleased and gave him the password and directions to the tower. Then, after directing a house-elf to move his trunk, Harry made his way down to the room to check on his other friends, Edward and Pam.
He didn't find either one there and was told by a 6th-year prefect, Cathy-Ann Westbrook that most of the first years could be found studying in the Great Hall or out in the courtyards since it was still warm in the year. On his way to find them, he was interrupted by the aggravated form of one Neville Longbottom.
"Potter? Leaving? I noticed your things were gone. And here I was going to give you one last chance to take my hand in friendship. Guess I don't have to bother now that you're leaving like a loser," he sneered. The other boys chuckled at the slight.
"I'm touched that you were checking up on me, Longbottom. But don't worry your little head about it, I'm not going far. I'll be with the Hufflepuffs for a few weeks in case you need me to come read you a bedtime story."
"Watch it, Potter," Dean snapped for his friend. "Don't go mouthing off to your better!"
"Are my parents here?" Harry asked innocently.
"Me, you idiot!" Neville exclaimed.
"You? You're no one's better. Not Dean's, Ron's, the Giant Squid, Lavender's, Peeves, let alone mine. What have you done recently to prove you're my better?"
"I survived the killing curse!"
"So you keep saying. How about you do something for both of us and just shut your trap before I do it for you."
"You're a cur, Potter. A lowly cur who needs to understand his role in society. Now that you're going to the Puffs, where is it going to stop? Will you be going to the Snakes next?"
"Maybe. That or the claws."
"You have no house loyalty," Ron muttered darkly.
"Actually, I'm an apprentice so it's not incumbent on me to have house loyalties. Instead, I have loyalty to Hogwarts as a whole. Works out a lot better that way."
"We'll be seeing you then, Potter," Longbottom pushed his way past their former roommate. Harry allowed them their moment: after all, they were only kids. Misguided, but still kids.
As Harry started up the hall, a familiar visage fell into step with him.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter," Draco said, keeping up.
"And a good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy. Tell me, do you always hide in unused classes on Sunday afternoons?"
"Not really. I was practicing some spells and couldn't resist an opportunity to eavesdrop. So is it true you are becoming a Puff for awhile?"
"Yes."
"Then allow me to congratulate you. I personally wouldn't be caught dead in there, but that's me and not you."
"Why Draco, that insult was almost a compliment. You must be slipping," Harry smirked.
Malfoy took no umbrage. "Perhaps. I look forward to seeing you in the Slytherin common room. It should prove… enlightening."
Harry's eyebrow shot up. "You mean entertaining, don't you? Is the enlightening part before or after the hazing rituals you Slytherins engage in?"
"You wound me, Potter, you really do. For you, no hazing rituals."
"I take it you're just going to start with the hexes and curses as soon as I come in then?"
"Perhaps. You are after all a closet Gryffindor."
"Goodbye, Draco."
"Till next time, Mr. Potter."
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