Meles Malfoy

Chapter 2. The Sett.

"I remember my first day in Hufflepuff house as if it were yesterday..."

Draco, who had grown up in a house where it was not uncommon to have a many greats grandmother float through the wall when you were in the bath, was well used to ghosts. He knew that being several hundred years old vastly increased the ability to accumulate knowledge but conversely, decreased the scope for perspective on how to use it. As such, it was best politely to ignore them and let them talk. Draco caught snippets of information such as the password and various traditions of Hufflepuff house. "As if things like 'Keep internal disputes within the walls of the house' and 'one for all and all for one' are such earth shatteringly original ideas," Draco thought to himself.

All of a sudden, they stopped in the middle of a downstairs corridor, at a rug embroidered with a kindly looking witch. "Good evening Friar," she said.

"Good evening Mildred," replied the Friar, "This is Master Draco Malfoy, the last of the first years."

"A pleasure to meet you at last. Do you have the password?"

"Philadelphia," replied Draco in a disinterested tone as he watched as the rug rolled itself up to reveal a wide, marble staircase going down.

At the bottom of the stairs there lay a large, empty room dominated with by large, oval shaped wooden table inlaid in marquetry with a badger, surrounded with what looked like enough seats for the entire house to sit at once. The whole room appeared to be decorated with certain business-like utilitarianism which Draco found a little austere.

"Everyone has gone to bed it seems, although some refreshments have been provided," said the Friar, looking longingly at the sandwiches, sponge cake, pumpkin juice and the steaming pot of tea waiting on the table at a cluster of rather functional looking armchairs near the stairs.

As Draco helped himself to juice and sandwiches, the ghost explained more about Hufflepuff house. He learned that unlike other houses, Hufflepuff students slept two to a room and that he would be sharing with a muggle-born student. Growing up, Draco had rarely even seen muggles, so the idea of sharing accommodation with someone who had never known anyone but muggles made him quite apprehensive. However, he was pleased to hear that students were given a lot of leeway in how they decorated their study bedrooms and that a certain amount of rivalry existed to see which students could "put on the best show."

As Draco washed down his last slice of cake, (which had been automatically replenishing itself and didn't look as if it had been touched at all), the Friar spoke. "I think you should get some sleep. You have a busy day tomorrow and you don't want to keep your room-mate up much longer though I'm sure he is eager to meet you."

"I'm sure he is," replied Draco with a note of sarcasm on his voice which was totally lost on the Friar. Draco then dabbed his mouth with a napkin before rising from his seat and heading for the dormitories.

The boy with whom Draco was sharing was still awake and sitting up in bed reading a textbook.

"Hello, How do you do?" said the boy, marking his page and putting the book down before getting up. "My name is Justin Finch-Fletchley, you must be Draco Malfoy."

Draco winced as the boy mispronounced his name but was not slow to recognise the accent with which it had been spoken.

He decided that he would need to take charge of the situation right from the start. To do this, he would need to appear cool and aloof and maintain the tension between himself and his new room-mate, an illusion of omniscience was definitely called for. His father had told him once that interrogating people was easy. If you took the right attitude from the start, they would do most of the work for you.

"Draco Malfoy," he replied haughtily, emphasizing the 'ay' of 'Draco and the 'Mal' of 'Malfoy whilst locking his eyes with Justin's as he held out a hand which was readily accepted by the other boy.

"I must say, it's been a bit hectic these last few weeks. I was down for Eton before I got my letter. My father knew a lot about the magic world though he swears that he can't for the life of him remember how he knows. He's a civil servant for the Prime Minister and he knows an awful lot about politics. He predicted which party would win the last election and he often jets around the world visiting different countries. I'm surprised he knows about magic though, isn't it meant to be a very strict secret?" asked Justin before he had to pause for breath.

"I'm sure that I understood only about one word in three there. Getting this one to speak was not going to be too difficult at all," thought Draco. "What is Eton?" He asked with a slight sneer on his face.

"Oh? Eton is a boarding school, a bit like Hogwarts I suppose, It's quite famous but amongst muggles obviously. It is very old, my father went there and so did Grandfather."

"And you are saying that your father works for the muggle government?"

"Yes, his work is very demanding and he's always going for meetings. He was a bit sceptical about my going to Hogwarts but I told him that having a wizard in the family could be useful and Mum said that it would be more use than another barrister."

"I see," replied Draco, "Your father must be one of the officials who are present at meetings between the Minister for Magic and the muggle Prime Minister. They are obliviated after each meeting of course so your letter must have awakened his knowledge."

"Obliviated?"

"They had their memories altered. Sometimes it isn't permanent though and they can get total recall," responded Draco with an exasperated sigh.

"You mean you can do that? Wow! What's it like living growing up with magic? Father only really knows about the wizarding government and it all sounds a bit mad if you ask me," said Justin with a grin.

Draco had often heard his father make the same remark about the ministry and decided that now was just about the right time to release the tense atmosphere by reacting positively to Justin's (admittedly rather feeble) joke.

"Magic is all I've known so I can't really tell you what it is like. I understand that muggles have engines for cleaning clothes. That doesn't sound very hygienic." said Draco with his cheeks still slightly pink from his (brief) laugh.

"You mean washing machines? It would take all day to wash clothes by hand." replied Justin with a slightly bemused look on his face.

"It must be awful to have to choose between some noisy machine and doing things by hand. I'm glad the house elf does all that," responded Draco.

Justin looked rather concerned at this remark. "You're joking right?"

"Joking? No, why?"

"It's just that the housekeeper sometimes asks me if I'm expecting the tidy-up fairy to clean my bedroom for me," said Justin with a giggle.

Draco, beginning to tire of Justin's high spirits and general ignorance of wizard traditions such as house elves. One joke had been more than enough for someone he had just met and decided that the other boy would need to be put in his place. "I find the idea of a human servant rather barbarous. House elves were created to serve, but humans should have more self-respect than to perform domestic service for others." He was about to continue when he was interrupted by someone banging angrily on the door "Oi! Shut up both of you and get to sleep! Lights out NOW!"

Draco was just able to find a pair of pyjamas from his trunk before the room became dark. He dressed in silence and lay in bed, unable to sleep. Justin was, thankfully, not speaking which allowed him to dwell on the events of the last few hours. "Surely I could have changed the hat's mind? Surely Slytherin was a foregone conclusion. Did this mean I was not worthy of the Malfoy name? What about muggle-borns? This Justin one seemed unlike his father's description of mud-bloods. He seems to be from an upper class sort of background. What does this mean? What will my Slytherin friends think of me now? They will be watching my every move and it will get back to Father times ten. What about Potter? He would have done well to have become my friend. What if he was sorted into Slytherin my place? Would it be any worse for me in his eyes to be sorted into either of the other two houses? Probably not, Father has no time for lazy Ravenclaws and he detests Gryffindors and he is still going to send me the worst possible howler. What if Potter is in my rightful place right now in Slytherin, while I'm stuck here? How many hexes can you fit inside a howler anyway?..."