Chapter 4: Three Kings

Draco had already unpacked his things, as had the rest of the first-year boys.

They anxiously looked over at Ron, stealing fleeting glances at the redhead. It was one thing to make fun of his family status as a blood-traitor when he was a distant threat...but Ron was here and he was a Slytherin.

The Sorting Hat had to have made that decision for a reason.

Draco wasn't fearful; if anything, having such a lowly, poor reject of a wizard amongst the otherwise pristine Syltherins was an ego-booster. All and all, he was curious. He would root out the reason for Ron's presence. Despite that, Draco slightly shook when Ron would catch him staring, as if the Weasley spawn could sense eyes upon him.

Draco's initial anger had dissolved into an all-consuming curiosity. If he was going to make fun of this Weasley, he must know him first.

"Weasel..." Draco choked out, all poise lost in the awkwardness of the situation. "How...how..."

Draco didn't need to finish. By breaking the silence in their room, all of the boys immediately looked over to them. Nott and Zabini practically gawked, just as curious as he was. Even Crabbe and Goyle looked over, seeming to have gained some fleeting moment of an attention span.

"What, Malfoy? How did I became a Slytherin?"

Ron didn't yell, but spoke a little too confidently for Draco's liking.

"Yes." Draco bit out, slightly annoyed at Ron's tone.

"Because the hat sorted me." Ron's eyes gleamed, teasing Draco into fighting him. It was just too smug to handle.

Despite that, Draco forced himself to not yell. He clenched his fists, speaking to Ron. "It must have been some mistake."

"Yeah...a thousand year old hat made by one of the greatest wizards in history made a mistake. I'm glad a first year like you figured things out."

Nott snickered, several beds away, but Draco silenced him with a glare.

"You know what I mean, Weasel...Weasley."

"I don't know, Malfoy."

Draco was tempted to go feral and claw the redhead's face off with his bare hands.

"Fine. No Weasley has ever been in Slytherin. They're the lowest of the low."

Before he could continue, Weasley once again cut him off. "If this House really had any standards, your goons Crabbe and Goyle wouldn't be here."

"They're not blood-traitors." He quickly snapped back.

Ron walked from his bed to Malfoy's, continuing to stare at the blond. "Stop where you're going or I'll show you just what a traitor can do."

Ron grasped his wand, preparing to blast the blond's head off. "I can make the room rain red with you, Malfoy. Like you said, I'm the lowest of the low. Nothing worse can happen to me, but you..." He trailed off, watching Draco flinch at the mention of blood.

"My father..."

"Your father doesn't have power over me. He can't wave galleons over my head and tell me to play nice."

"He can hurt you!" Despite Draco's yell, the other boys in the room didn't come beside them. Nott was pretending to fall asleep. Crabbe and Goyle only sat idly by on their corner of the room. Blaise was probably relishing Weasley taunting him.

"I don't see him around here, Malfoy. And a curse or poison sent by owl to me sounds a little too low-class for your father. Seems like a thing someone like me would do..."

"I was trying to be nice!"

"Just listen to yourself. Not even my sister can have a tantrum like you. I'll definitely have to be owling your father..." Ron merely winked.

"You wouldn't dare, Weasel. Tell me how you got in this House." Malfoy kept on raising his voice, easily baited.

"I already told you."

"Tell me! You aren't a true Slytherin. You're not even fit to be sorted with the rest of those mangy lions!"

His voice rose once again, but Ron still stood calmly in front of him. Nothing phased the redhead. Weasley even seemed to find this funny.

"You're just showing every reason why you don't belong in Slytherin."

With that, greater rage surged through Draco. He just couldn't handle more. Instead of casting even a simple jinx, anger possessed him into lunging forward and pushing the redhead onto the ground.

Ron didn't fight back; he merely looked into the blond's eyes and laughed. "Just what a filthy Mudblood would do."

Finally, Crabbe and Goyle came over, pulling Draco off of the blood-traitor and back to their side of the room. Malfoy would have been too weak to start a real fight; melodrama was his arena of expertise.

Ron still lay down, smirking at the scene. "It's sad when your lackeys are making the smart decisions here."

Before Draco could do anything, Goyle pulled him over by his bed with Crabbe in tow. Ron started laughing again, much to the beguilement of the room. Nott undid the curtains of his bed and sneaked a look at Ron, contemplating the redhead.

Ron Weasley shouldn't have been an interesting person. This was the year Harry Potter had finally returned to the Wizarding World, but in one sorting, Ron had quickly become the focus of the school's gossip.

They would all be watching him in the days to come.

Breakfast the next day passed somewhat blandly. Draco hadn't fought Ron since last night, but all of Slytherin had quickly found out about their quarrel.

It wasn't even Crabbe, Goyle, Nott or Zabini who had told the others. Malfoy had whined to the other years about the blood-traitor's threats, desperately seeking sympathy and attention. Only Pansy seemed to care, but the rest merely remained silent.

Slytherin was defined by a clear hierarchy of blood and wealth. Unknown variables like Ron never happened. Despite their age, the first years' lives, like any Slytherins', could be predicted from who they would marry to what career they would hold. Everything was fixed for them, except for Ron.

Ron came from nothing, but was capable of everything.

The other Slytherin's weren't interested because of his magical power; of that, the Weasley was just a first year. Instead, Ron's nonexistent status was compelling. What would he do to achieve power?

Just as Draco had hinted in his questions, there had to be a reason for the sorting. How could someone from a family so wrong be right for this house?

Nott came late to breakfast, noticing that still no one sat by Ron. Despite his better judgment and the social suicide that could follow, he sat next to the boy.

"I'm Theodore Nott."

Ron didn't respond, but just stared.

Nott continued. "We're dormmates."

"I know." Ron's expression was blank and unreadable.

"I was there when...Draco and you..." Nott brushed his hand through his hair.

"So, what did you think?"

"I...I thought it was funny." Nott offered a small smile, but Ron detected it nonetheless.

"Do you think I don't belong in Slytherin?"

"Yes, but..." He paused, trying to sound nice. "Not for the reasons Draco and the others think. They'll either hate or mistrust you here. You'd be accepted in any other House."

"The hat chose for a reason." Ron had seemed tense, but calmed down upon hearing the rest of what Nott had to say.

"Did it say anything? Mine babbled about my father and mother."

Ron smiled, surprising Theodore. "My family is too simple for the hat to say anything about."

For some odd reason, Nott just laughed. Ron's comment should have been sad with its hints of angst and neglect.

"What's your family like? Weasley...I mean, Ron? Surely they aren't just simple."

"I don't get along with them."

"So how do you think they'll take you in Slytherin? Can I expect any Howlers this week?"

"My mom would come in person to gift me with...the killing curse. A mother's love." Ron's eyes glinted, wackily happy.

"So who hates you more, the Slytherins or your family?"

"Tough decision. But it might be my family. They're somehow smarter and more underhanded than what passes to get into this House."

"Crabbe and Goyle are...nice? I guess? Smarts...thats what they have." Theodore smirked, unable to think of redeeming qualities for his inbreed yearmates.

"Malfoy seemed to have a whole lot of smarts last night."

Their conversation was still a little awkward, but they were beginning to get used to each other. Nott was surprised to find good conversation in a Weasley of all people.

"Why did you threaten him? He's told the rest of the Slytherins."

"Only a Malfoy could turn being humiliated into something to brag about."

"You should be worried about his father. Malfoys are one of the richest pureblood families, because unlike my dad and the rest, he wasn't convicted of being a Death Eater willingly."

"It's not like he can kill me. That's too uncreative even for a Malfoy."

"Uncreative?" Nott gasped, before laughing. "What would be a satisfying threat?"

"You bluntly implied Malfoy Sr. was a Death Eater. He could at least tickle me with the Cruciatus."

"Yeah," Theodore rolled his eyes. "You'll just have a slumber party at the Malfoys."

"The real horror would be how long it took for Draco to decide what to wear."

Although Theodore laughed, he pressed. "Do you ever take anything seriously?"

"I'm not going to take the threats of a first-year seriously."

"Even a first-year can come from a powerful family." Nott's voice rose.

Theodore tried forcing himself not to laugh and reinforce the seriousness of the situation. He looked around, watching the other members of Slytherin. Some blatantly stared over at him and Ron, but he doubt they heard.

"Like I said, the worst he can do is tickle me."

"Or let me guess, shock you with the Killing Curse? That darn static..."

"I'm glad you understand..." Ron paused, smiling again at the other boy. "Hmm...what do you know about the Black family?"

"Now, that's a family that would throw a good...slumber party. Crazy, the lot of them, from what my dad says."

"Could you get a family tree of the Blacks?"

Ron didn't even try to hide and subtly suggest an interest in the Black family. Perhaps Nott's mix of fear for Ron and their banter confused him from questioning how off-topic that was.

"Ask your friend Draco. He's the closest Black relative here."

"It just had to be him, didn't it?"

"He likes you...in a 'I'm going to bludgeon you to death and laugh maniacally' kind of way."

"I don't even want to know what he would do to someone he loves then."

"Like you said before, he'd tickle them. His aunt Bellatrix just loved tickling the Longbottoms too much..."

Theodore Nott felt generally giddy around Ron. The boy was funny and fresh, nothing like the stuffy traditions and affected superiority of the purebloods.

"No wonder the Death Eaters joined You-Know-Who. It was for the slumber parties. Holding hands and flesh-eating curses. Maybe even sit around and roast marshmallows and Mudbloods with Fiendfyre."

Nott laughed even louder, breaking his otherwise calm demeanor. Draco gave him a death glare from afar, much to the boy's amusement.

"Look's like Ronniekins made a friend..." George nudged his twin, their eyes darting to the Slytherin table.

"Consorting with Death Eaters and the first week of school isn't even done..." Fred snarled.

Their otherwise joking personalities had melted; their hatred for their brother was their most serious emotion. Ron would be found and cast out of their family for what he was.

Even in hatred, Ron was always the center of attention.

AN: Thank you for the lovely reviews. I think I might write one more chapter that takes place during first year than time-jump. Ron has no real power now.