Weasley the Sexual Predator was sorted into Gryffindor, distracting Harry from his thoughts of impending doom. He watched the boy be congratulated by a herd of others with the same shade of hair and assumed they were all related in some way.

"Do you think," Harry began hesitantly, "that they're all molesters?" Maybe it ran in the family.

An older Slytherin sitting nearby made choking noises and stared at Harry with a startled expression.

"Probably." Draco nodded his head sagely, "I wouldn't put it passed them."

Harry's eyes narrowed, "I knew it. Don't go near them, Draco. They'll do things to you."

The older Slytherin cleared his throat to get their attention, "Ah, excuse me, what exactly are you-"

Alas, he never got the chance to find out what the hell the two first years were talking about. Professor Dumbledore chose that minute to stand up and the Great Hall fell into a hush. He was beaming at the students, arms opened wide, and Harry was thoroughly reminded of every single image of a wizard he'd ever seen in the normal world. He was slightly sad to note the lack of staff, though. What kind of man went to so much trouble to look like a stereotypical old wizard dude and didn't even bother with a staff? Harry doubted his commitment to his Merlin image.

"Welcome!" the old man said jovially, "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! Thank you!" He sat back down amidst loud clapping and cheering and Harry barely had a moment to think 'what' before the tables were suddenly piled high with food and-

'Oh god.'

Harry quickly pressed his hands against his ears, eyes panicked.

'HEY WHERE'S THE REST OF MY BODY?'

'Excuse me, why am I covered in gravy?'

'YO THIS IS SOME KIND OF BULLSHIT RIGHT HERE-'

Harry made a drawn-out whining noise as Draco shook his shoulder in concern. Oh god he forgot. Why didn't he request the meal be vegetarian because of religious reasons or something oh god he could have said he was very allergic to meat oh god oh god why why why-

"Harry, are you alright?" Draco asked, taking note of how distinctly freaked out the other boy looked. Harry's bottom lip wibbled.

By now, he was starting to attract some attention from close-by students.

"I say, what's wrong with him?" Gemma Farley, a Slytherin prefect, leaned in closer to intently peer in Harry's face. She desperately hoped the boy wouldn't keel over. She could just see the headlines in the papers tomorrow, READ ALL ABOUT IT: EVIL SLYTHERINS KILL BOY WHO LIVED DURING FEAST – NO ONE MUCH SURPRISED. Ugh they did not need more bad publicity, thank you very much.

"I have no idea." Draco replied, poking Harry none too gently in the ribs, "Hey, Harry. Harry."

Harry's glassy eyed gaze shifted slowly toward the blond before looking at the rest of the faces that were staring right at him and judging him and-

His face turned bright red, mortified.

'What was that, Harry?' he thought to himself, a tad unhinged, 'Did you just freak out at the dinner table? Did you? Huh? Did you look like a hysterical crazy person in front of your minions? DID YOU?'

Oh god, how embarrassing. How were people supposed to fear and worship him if he looked like an unstable looney and – did that one guy just pull out smelling salts? What an awful way to make a first impression. This was a giant disaster of epic proportions and Harry was greatly displeased and he really wished his face would stop burning like that.

There was only one thing to do.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, self-consciously smoothing down his tacky robes (his minion had insisted he put them on. Ugh. They were so bad) and-

Piled some salad onto his place like nothing had happened.

"Harry…" Draco began, deeply confused, "What-?"

"What?" Harry asked, staring at Draco with a flat expression and desperately wanting the food to shut the hell up already but determined to ignore it to the best of his abilities.

"What was that about?"

"What was WHAT about?"

Draco's eyes narrowed down to slits, "Just now. Your…fit."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Harry stuck his nose up in the air with a disgruntled little sniff, as if Draco were the one being completely ridiculous.

"HARRY."

"DRACO, EAT YOUR SUPPER BEFORE IT GETS COLD."

Draco bit down the 'Yes, Mummy' that almost came out by habit and made a sputtering noise. "Excuse me, I don't think-"

"You two. First years." The prefect, Gemma, interrupted their little spat. "You're making a scene. People are looking. You need to calm down and save your…whatever that was, for your dormitory, got it?" She stared them down like they were two misbehaving puppies that had just chewed up every single shoe in the whole damn house. If Potter wanted to pretend nothing had happened, that was alright by her. As long as he didn't off himself and tarnish the reputation of the glorious Slytherin House, she didn't much care what he did.

The boys were suitably cowed, though Harry caught himself after a minute and stared at the Prefect with a disbelieving expression.

What…just happened?

Had he been…scolded? Like some sort of child?

The- the nerve.

DID THIS…THIS PEON NOT KNOW WHO HE WAS?

HE WAS-

He managed to calm his quickly rising (thought totally justified in his opinion, thank you very much) righteous rage when he noticed the nearby turkey legs quivering with excitement and murderous intent.

He swallowed down the scathing retort was just practically bursting to get and quietly seethed.

'Your time will come, uppity servant.'

He shoved a cucumber slice into his mouth and chewed with the wrath of a thousand dying suns.

'Your time will come.'

Somewhere in between trying to block out the long epic tale of 'How I Found a Tasty Dandelion That One Time' by chunks of cow floating in a bowl of stew and Draco's quiet attempts at conversation, Harry noticed something.

The professors were…staring at him.

It wasn't even the 'wow look at him, he sure is a majestic future overlord, isn't he' staring that Harry would have preferred. It was more along the lines of how one would stare at an interesting bit of alien goo under a microscope. Harry stared back.

A man with an unfortunate purple turban hastily looked away and Harry preened in triumph. Now that his authority had been asserted on that one, he turned his attention to the next man who was – Harry paused. Glaring. At him. What.

The man, decked out superbly in black like some sort of broody vampire, appeared to be trying his best to set Harry on fire with just his eyes. Harry promptly made a mental note to see if that was actually a thing a wizard could be because oh my god, best super power ever.

Still though, that look was completely uncalled for.

Harry raised his eyebrow in challenge and the man's stare doubled in intensity.

Well.

If that was how he wanted to play it, then…

The man became very distracted shortly after as his slice of chicken made a beeline down into his shirt. The older, stern looking woman from before choked on her wine and quickly shot a look at a pair of red haired twins.

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY! HONESTLY!"

The twins looked up from their meal, superbly confused, "WHAT?"

"DETENTION, THE BOTH OF YOU! JUST ONCE I'D LIKE TO HAVE A NICE START OF TERM FEAST, IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK? IS IT?"

"BUT-"

The twins gave each other startled looks. They didn't even DO anything! Yet.

"DON'T MAKE ME MAKE IT TWO DETENTIONS, YOUNG MEN!"

Their older brother quickly slapped his hands over their mouths before they could make a justifiable retort and gazed at the professor remorsefully, "So sorry, Professor McGonagall! Won't happen again!"

"SEE THAT IT DOESN'T!"

She chugged down her goblet of wine. Every year. EVERY year it was something. Sweet Merlin, and people wondered why she didn't have children.

Not long after the man finally managed to get his chicken situation under control, the food disappeared and Gandalf the Second stood up again with a flourish.

Harry, who had just been about to take a bite of some delicious looking pumpkin pastry, was not impressed.

"Hey-"

The Slytherin prefect shushed him. Harry's eye twitched.

"Ahem – 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. I'd like to bring up the point that that's why it's called the FORBIDDEN Forest and not the Go-As-You-Please Forest. Once again, the Forbidden Forest is forbidden." The old man stressed, staring directly at the Gryffindor Table.

Probably he should have been looking at the Slytherin Table instead, where Harry had just made it his life's mission to go into the forest or die trying.

"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 very painful death."

Harry made a little noise, superbly interested in the Corridor of Death, and the Slytherin prefect's reproachful gaze swung to him in an instant.

Gemma had the sudden realization that babysitting the new babies was going to be a thousand times tougher than she previously thought. Especially that Potter brat, whose eyes were now twinkling suspiciously. If she caught him anywhere near the third foor she swore she would drown him in the lake- although, that might slightly defeat the purpose. Well, maybe she'd just shut him in a closet until the term ended. For his own safety. Yes.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song! Everyone pick their favorite tune and off we go!"

Harry was unprepared for the torturous yowls that assaulted his ears. He thanked the universe that at least his house was remaining quiet and dignified.

"Will this be going on for much longer?" he demanded, fixing Draco with an intense stare.

"I don't know. I hope not." Draco replied, a bit desperately.

Harry heard one of the other first years, a black haired girl with an upturned nose, quietly whimper out a 'why is this happening'. He wished he had the answer.

Finally, finally…there was blessed silence.

The Slytherin table, as a whole, let out a relieved breath.

"Ah music," Dumbledore said, wiping his eyes, "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, I had almost forgotten! If you'd all turn your notice to this young man here-" He gestured at the turban wearing man, who reluctantly stood up and gave an awkward wave. "This is Professor Quirrell, and he is to be your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I hope you all make him feel welcome!"

"H-Hello, everyone!" Professor Quirrell stuttered before quickly regaining his seat, looking for all the world as if he wished he were somewhere else.

There were some half-hearted greetings from the students. Most just stared at him with unsettling glints in their eyes, thinking 'easy prey'.

They were released from the Great Hall shortly after and Harry found himself trotting behind the Cursed She-Beast as the Slytherin prefect led them into the dungeons. He remained silent, trying to memorize the path. He really hoped a handy map of this place was given out tomorrow because life was going to be a bit ridiculous without one.

The prefect stopped before a nondescript stone wall and cleared her throat to get their attention. "Right then, this is the entrance to the Slytherin common room. You'll need a password to get in, which changes every fortnight. The current password – listen up, please!- is…" Gemma hesitated, sighing. This was the last time they picked a password from a hat, she swore to Merlin. "The password is 'Tasty Cumquat'. Please remember it."

The wall pealed apart at the password and Gemma herded the children in.

As Harry gazed upon his new abode he decided that…yes. This will do.

The whole place looked like an evil villain's lair. Either that or some sort of high priced underground nightclub, but as Harry had never been to one of those, he couldn't properly make that association.

The leather sofas, skull motifs and green mood lighting were rather nice, he thought.

"Now," Gemma continued, "I am one of your prefects, Gemma Farley, and I'm a fifth year." She probably should have introduced herself earlier, now that she thought about it. Meh. "If you need anything, don't forget to ask myself or one of the other prefects. The girls dormitory is on your left and the boys on the right. Before I let you go, remember to act accordingly once you're outside of these walls and don't dishonor the glory of Slytherin House, or I will end you."

She stared at the first years for what Harry thought was an unnecessary length of time. The She-Beast, he thought, was very melodramatic.

"Now get to bed. It's late and you'll need to be at the Great Hall by eight tomorrow for breakfast. That's also when you'll be getting your class schedules, so if you're late you won't know what class to go to and you'll be expelled from Hogwarts forever."

A few of the children looked frightened.

"I'm joking." Gemma said, voice flat. "Probably. Be on time, is what I'm saying. Shoo." With that, she turned away and joined a group of her year mates, not bothering any more with the children. Her job, as far as she was concerned, was done.

Harry learned that he would be sharing a room with Draco, Draco's two servants, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that. He liked his privacy, thank you very much. Well, he supposed he'd just survive for now and then request a private room if people got too annoying. He huffed, flopping down onto a comfortable bed that he deduced to be his by the presence of his trunk. He then promptly scrambled off and threw the trunk open, digging inside frantically.

"Potter, what-" Theodore stared at his dorm mate with a bemused expression.

"I forgot!" Harry moaned in distress, "I completely forgot!"

He flung a shirt aside, narrowly missing hitting Blaise in the face.

He finally pulled out a small basket, holding it close to his chest. "I'm so sorry, My precious little fluff fluff! I didn't mean to leave you in there for so long!"

The other boys crowded around him, curious to see what was in the basket. Once Harry removed the object of mystery from inside it, however, they recoiled in horror.

"WHAT-"

Harry shot Draco an affronted look, "Don't yell like that, you'll scare her."

"I'LL scare her?!"

"Potter, what in blue blazes is that thing supposed to be?" Blaise demanded, pretending like he wasn't half-hiding behind Gregory's broad back.

"That THING has a name, thank you very much. SHE is Miss Puff-Fluff and SHE is precious and adorable and I don't appreciate your tone!" Harry stated firmly, completely offended on behalf of his pet.

Draco thought that maybe Harry somehow wasn't aware that the rat he was holding was a half rotten monstrosity. "Um, alright…" He tried a softer approach, "But why is she missing…bits?"

Harry hmph'd. "We can't ALL look like models, Draco."

Draco felt that Harry was missing the point.

"What Draco means is why does that rat look like it- sorry, SHE – was dug up after a cat ate most of her?" Theodore asked, watching the rat's tongue happily flop in the space its bottom jaw should have been with a morbid sort of fascination.

"Because that's what happened." Harry stated. "Obviously."

"Oh, obviously. Of course. My mistake." Draco said, a tad hysterically. "WHY DO YOU HAVE A DEAD RAT?"

Vincent squinted at Miss Puff-Fluff, "I think she's kinda cute."

"SHUT UP, VINCENT. NO ONE ASKED YOU."

Gregory tsk'd at Draco, "Rude."

Harry frankly thought this nonsense had gone on long enough. "Draco, you need to accept Miss Puff-Fluff is you want our relationship to continue." Because he would totally drop Draco as a minion and demote him to foot-servant if he had to, don't think he wouldn't.

Draco colored faintly, looking away. He didn't want them to break up just when they started dating!

"Sorry," Theodore interrupted, looking highly interested in the proceedings, "Relationship?"

Draco ignored the other boy and looked up at Harry from beneath his lashes, somewhat bashful. "Well, I mean, if she's that important to you. I guess I can…ignore the…" he paused, making a face, "-the rot. I guess."

Harry nodded, pleased. "Yes. Good."

"There's a relationship?" Theodore asked, insistent.

"NEVER MIND, THEO!" Draco flushed. He didn't want the other boys to start teasing them. What if Harry got too embarrassed and decided being boyfriends was too much trouble? No way, he would definitely keep that from happening!

Later, when the boys were in bed, Harry lay awake thinking about what the hobo hat had said.

He didn't know was 'getting laid' was but he was going to avoid it like the plague. He wouldn't let anything keep him from his goals. Later, he'd find the library and figure out the specifics but for now…

"Draco." He whispered, none too quietly. The boy in question made muffled little half-asleep sounds.

Harry turned toward the blond, a serious look on his face, "Draco. Promise me something."

"…Yes?"

"Promise me that you'll never let me 'get laid'. This is very important, Draco!"

"Ah…" Draco had no idea what any of that meant, but, "…Alright. Yes, I promise! You'll never get laid as long as I'm around!"

He was such a good boyfriend.

The next morning…

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were enjoying a relaxing breakfast together and when one of their House Elves brought them a letter.

"Look darling, it's from Draco!" Narcissa beamed, hastily opening the letter while her husband looked on indulgently.

Dear Mummy and Daddy,

I have been sorted into SLYTHERIN! Daddy, I know you say that one exclamation point is enough in letters but it is clearly not in this case! :)

And also I have other super exciting news and won't you be surprised to know that I met Harry Potter and we're best friends now and also we're BOYFRIENDS! I already bought him lots of candy (actually the whole trolley on the train and can you send more money because I spent quite a lot and I feel poor now D: ) and I'm being a really good boyfriend and you should be so proud!

Speaking of poor did you know that Weasley (the youngest one but we're actually pretty sure they're ALL like that) is a molester and a sexual predator? It's true. I had to save Harry (my boyfriend!) on the train and he looked very scared and he was so happy when I showed up. So now we're staying away from them because we don't want to get molested even more.

Please write soon!

Your Best Son Ever,

Draco

PS. Harry also got sorted into Slytherin!

PPS. Send money please. ):

Narcissa's glass of orange juice shattered.

"LUCIUS!"

AN: LOOK AT HOW THIS UPDATE ISN'T YEARS FROM NOW. LOOK AT IT.

You guys have no idea how long I've waited to write Draco's letter no his parents. Oh man.

And I'm going to be so sad when these little assholes get older because 11 year olds are ridiculous and I love writing them. But then again I get to write smut when they're older. So. Hmm. And Gemma is totally a real character according to the HP wiki. She was the Slytherin prefect during Harry's 1st and 2nd years. I'm going to try my hardest to not have any OCs in this thing, dangit.

BTW I was so very amused when I was reading all the reviews and you guys were all "I HAD TO RE-READ THE WHOLE FIC CAUSE I DIDN'T REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED" and I loled cause me too, guys. Me too.

ALSO ALSO this fis is now on archiveofourown cause, you know, smut later on. You can find the link on my profile. Like you don't NEED to go there now but it's there.

Speaking of links, I have a tumblr. Follow me and we can talk and bond and have a gay ol' time and what-not. :D Link for THAT is also on my profile.