Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.

Harry shivered as he curled up tighter in his cupboard, the bruises littered over his body aching in protest. The coppery taste in his mouth from where his uncle had struck him was still there, making him nauseous. Closing his eyes he listened to the faint sounds of the television playing in the living room. The gentle sounds of people talking and laughing, people who weren't the Dursley's, were comforting to the ten year old. How he wished those people speaking happily on T.V. were present on the other side of his cupboard door rather than his "loving" family. How he wished gentle words and soft laughter would be directed at him, encouraging him to join in. How he wished… The ten year old sighed. Wishes didn't come true for Harry Potter and any strange happenings that occurred around him were more of a curse than a blessing, especially if his aunt and uncle heard about them. Tugging his ratty old blanket up under his chin, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax still listening to the voices.

Harry had not believed it when Hagrid had told him he was a wizard. Frankly, he thought the large man had been a bit cracked in the head like the Dursleys were always telling people Harry was. His discomfort and disbelief were alleviated a little when he had read the letter and Hagrid had answered the questions that no one had ever bothered to allow Harry to even ask. Harry had been confused, and then torn between horror and amusement when Hagrid had blown up at the Dursleys for Harry's lack of knowledge. He knew he would pay for it later when the big man left, but for a moment he felt a small speck of vindictive pleasure at their fear and discomfort. Currently him and his unlikely savior were walking up to a dingy pub with peeling paint crumbling from it's walls and door. The tiny brunette cocked his head and looked in askance at the big man before slowly following him inside.

The pub was smokey and dim. Strange people in cloaks and odd clothing huddled around tables and pressed close to the bar. A decidedly odd little man, barely taller than Harry caught sight of him and hurried over, sweeping a large top hat off and bowing deeply. "Mr. Potter! Deadelus Diggle at your service!" At his words the others in the pub broke out in excited chatter and began crowding Harry. An irrational panic overtook him and he froze, his green eyes going wide, torn between hiding behind Hagrid and running back out of the pub.

"Enough!" A sharp, commanding voice broke through the chaos. Harry watched as a tall, dark haired man with a rather unfortunate nose strode gracefully towards him. Most of the witches and wizards that had been crowding Harry shied away from the intimidating man and returned to their seats. Harry sighed in relief, only just noticing he had been shaking. Clenching his hands to try and stop only seemed to make it worse. Hagrid looked down at him in surprise as if just noticing how upset his charge was. The man stopped in front of them with a sneer, opening his mouth to speak and then closing it as he took in the child's appearance. Wide, anxious eyes, too pale skin, over large clothing, and the thin face. "Hagrid, I shall take over Mr. Potter's shopping trip. I believe you have other business today anyway." The man still radiated a cold, dangerous kind of energy, but his eyes had softened just the slightest bit. Anyone other than Harry would probably have missed it, but he had spent most of his short life trying to avoid punishment by discerning subtle mood changes. The small change in the dark man's eyes reassured him. This man didn't seem to want to hurt him. Yet.

The man led him through the pub and into a place called Diagon Alley. He had ignored Harry's open mouthed astonishment at the entranceway from the pub when the bricks had magically shifted. A mask of cool, disdaining calm had settled over his features and Harry snuck glances at him between his inquiring gazes around the alley. More strangely clothed people, and shops that sold things from the magically cliché to things Harry never imagined people would buy. He almost bumped into the man, Professor Snape Hagrid had called him, when he stopped abruptly in front of a large white marble building. Harry squinted up at the name engraved over the entrance. Gringotts. He looked at the man, who seemed to sense his question. "Gringotts is a wizarding bank. It is run by the goblins, so be honest and polite. They're rather nasty creatures." With that the man turned and stalked into the bank, his black garments billowing out behind him. Harry hurried to keep up with the longer strides.

The bank was busy. Harry stared in awe at the hairy, long fingered creatures behind the desks. He and the professor had to wait in line which seemed to irritate the man, but Harry was too busy looking around to mind. "Severus!" A smooth aristocratic voice drew Harry's attention to a pale blonde man walking towards them. "Lucius," the professor greeted in turn. Harry tensed. The professor's silky voice had dropped slightly, compared to when he had explained about the bank. Whoever this stranger was, he got the feeling the professor didn't particularly like him. A smaller version of the blonde stepped into Harry's view. Having been so distracted with Lucius, Harry hadn't noticed him. The boy eyed him curiously and stood straighter, puffing out his chest. "I'm Draco Malfoy. Who are you?" The blunt question would have been rude, except the blonde's tone was curious rather than mean. Harry blushed, then glanced at Snape. The dark haired professor was watching. Harry stood straighter as well and said in a clear, steady tone "Harry Potter."

Two pairs of grey eyes widened at this announcement. Harry forced himself to stare back calmly. For some inexplicable reason, he didn't want the professor to know he was uncomfortable. He respected the cool, controlled man. He felt strangely safe, a gut feeling telling him the man next to him wouldn't harm him. An adult had never made him feel safe before. So with the professor at his side, he stood and allowed the Malfoys their scrutiny almost defiantly.

A/N: I know this is starting off like a wayyy over used plotline, but I've got a few twists in mind for this story that will make it different.