Reap The Bitter Fruit

Harry waited nervously in the common room after breakfast the next morning for Draco to arrive. He had to conceal his nervousness completely, though, and he hoped that the day would go well. In order for his plan to work, he had to do more than get along with Draco; indeed, he had to secure him as an ally. Beyond even that, however, Harry wanted - no, needed someone as a friend in his new House, and he privately felt that part of the reason that he and Draco had always fought was because of their similarities rather than any differences.

Finally, after what seemed an interminable length of time (but was really only a matter of minutes), Harry heard voices approaching the door to the Slytherin common room. The austere nature of the dungeon room was definitely growing on him, he reflected as he started to half-heartedly listen. Then his ears perked up once he could begin to understand what was being said just outside the door.

"Draco, I asked you here to talk to a new Slytherin. A fellow fifth year asked to be reSorted before term began again because he fought the Sorting Hat his first year. He has since realised his mistake, if you will, and consequently he has been placed with us now, where he should have been all along. You're going to be shocked, but, Draco, do listen to him. He's a true Slytherin if I ever met one, as much as you or I, and he has a lot of healing to do. He wants to meet with the rest of your dorm mates, and then your year mates, before the rest of the House, but he specifically wanted to talk to you before anyone else. Give him a chance." Severus paused. "Oh, and he needs some fashion help badly, so you two are to go into Hogsmeade after lunch," was added almost as an afterthought. Harry let his lips curl slightly. Well, it was true, he did need 'fashion help,' even if he wouldn't have said it in quite that way.

"I understand, Severus. Who could possibly be so shocking anyway?" The door slid open and Harry heard Severus' footsteps echoing down the hall as Draco muttered to himself. "It's not like I'm going to find Potter in here, anyway."

"Actually, I was given to understand there were no last names in Slytherin," Harry said smoothly, standing, and noting with a hint of pleasure the shocked look on the other boy's face.

"Bloody hell. You? A Slytherin?"

"The world's full of surprises, isn't it?" Harry sighed. "I suppose you'd like something of an explanation? I know I would, were our positions reversed." Draco nodded, eyes narrowed, and Harry sat back down. "Dumbledore has been manipulating me for years, ever since he sent me to live with those... those Muggles when I was just a baby. Those Muggles, however, ended up being his downfall. When I couldn't use magic over the summer to defend myself, it finally made me realise what was going on. I realised just how much I had been manipulated in the Headmaster's hands."

Draco had sat down himself, his interest obviously piqued. "What are you talking about? Defending yourself?"

"Oh, that? My 'uncle' beat me, sexually assaulted me, and raped me. And I couldn't do a thing about it, except send owls. I wrote to my godfather, Weasley, and Hermione. Dumbledore told them to leave me there. I'm merely a tool to him, and it didn't matter what happened as long as I didn't die. My godfather tried to save me, you know, and Dumbledore had him locked up here at Hogwarts. The other two couldn't be bothered." That wasn't fair to Hermione, Harry knew, but he still felt betrayed by her lack of action.

"Okay, Harry, how do I - and the rest of the Slytherins - know this isn't some weird act? A plot by Dumbledore's group, or something?"

"Does the Sorting Hat ever lie, Draco? It can't be charmed or hexed. Oh sure, I'll admit I have elements of Gryffindor in me, or it never could have put me there. But I never felt comfortable there. And my father may have been a Gryffindor, but my mother was not."

"Oh? What was she, a Ravenclaw?"

Harry smiled. "No. She was one of us."

Draco clearly wasn't expecting that information. He paused, considering, before he spoke. "Bloody hell," he whispered. "I never guessed... I should have, I just didn't see it." Then he straightened, and extended a hand in a gesture that was so full of past meaning that both he and Harry shuddered slightly. "Welcome to Slytherin House, Harry."

There was a pause, and Draco felt for a sickening moment that history was going to repeat itself. But then Harry reached out and took his hand firmly. "Thank you. It means a lot coming from you." The blond boy nodded, and the two former rivals studied each other intently for a moment before Draco broke the silence.

"So. I noticed you already identified your mother as one of us, not one of you," Draco began, wanting to know more about this boy that he had thought he had known everything there was to know about up until the moment he walked through the door to his common room that morning.

Harry nodded. "I always thought I was just a little different, or maybe it was because of the whole attention thing, but I never fit quite right in Gryffindor. Here, though," he gestured around him, "I feel right. I feel home."

"You understand, then." Draco paused. "What you may or may not realise is what the implications of Slytherin as our sole family truly are. We - none of us - have normal childhoods."

"None? What about the ones whose families are traditionally Slytherin? Surely..."

"Families are usually traditionally Slytherin because people in general tend to learn how to parent from their own parents. It's mostly a cycle. You know Augustus Moon, in Ravenclaw?" Harry had to shake his head in bewilderment. "His family's been Slytherin for years, but his mum was a Ravenclaw, and his father was one of the Death Eaters killed during You-Know-Who's rise. His mum died a short while later, and he's been raised by his maternal grandparents. Hence, not a Slytherin."

"So your childhood was fucked up as well?"

"My father's a Death Eater, Harry. You know that, from what he's said. He's maintained enough humanity not to force me into being initiated yet, but he doesn't yet realise I won't be initated at all, if I have my way. Why would I want to go out and kill people, even Muggles, on behalf of a half-blood?"

This news cheered Harry inwardly, though he gave no sign of it. "How many of us really are supporters of Voldemort? Not their families, but them?"

Draco shook his head. "Not nearly as many as everyone thinks. Oh, I'll admit, all but a few of us are fascinated with the Dark Arts, most of us do think we're better than Muggles and the Muggle-born, and some even like the Dark Lord's vision for the wizarding world. However, joining him means giving up some of our own power, something most of our parents either didn't realise or didn't care about in the excitement of everything." He gave Harry a sidelong glance. "Where do you stand on those issues, anyway?"

Harry paused, considering. Did he dare lie out his plan? He screwed up some courage and plunged ahead. "One day I will have to fight Voldemort to the death - his or mine. I don't intend on being the loser. That means, by default, I'm a potential murderer. I don't really have a huge opposition to most of the Dark Arts. I do think that we handle Muggle-born wizards and witches in completely the wrong way. So many leave Hogwarts and waste their training. Just waste it." He took a deep breath. "So, no, I'm not going to be fighting for the same things as Dumbledore. Nor do I align myself with Voldemort. I'm... an alternative."

"An alternative?" Draco breathed. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, Draco Malfoy, that there are three parties in the ring now. The Boy Who Lived just went free agent." He grinned suddenly. "Onto lighter topics. Like Quidditch." Harry really didn't want to deal with the issue any more that day. Let Draco stew over it for a day or two at least first. "What's your Quidditch team? I really favor Puddlemere United, actually," Harry shared. "I've never really mentioned it though because Ron gets so mad, they usually beat the Cannons worse than any other team."

Draco laughed after a moment, surprised at the abrupt change in topic. "Personally I favor the Wasps, but Puddlemere's not bad. Figures that Weasley would go for losers like the Cannons."

Harry snorted with laughter. "Yeah, you should see his room. Totally orange, totally clashes with his hair." Harry paused, suddenly serious. "I thought I'd feel guilty talking about him, you know. But I don't. I do, a bit, with Hermione. She really couldn't help me this summer, her parents took her on holiday and she doesn't live with any qualified witches or wizards. But I expected better from Weasley, and I'm not sure I can forgive him."

Draco leaned over. "I'll let you in on a little secret. I don't think Granger's that bad either. I only insult her for two reasons. One, Slytherin reputation, and two, it makes the Weasel mad. Well, and up until now, it got at you, too. But, if you want to keep her as a friend, I think that most of our House would lay off her."

Harry's eyes widened and he shrugged. "Okay. Now tell me, when are we going shopping? I've got plenty of Galleons to spend."

"Let's go as soon as we eat some lunch then. They have some boutiques with the designer Muggle stuff on a side street, so we'll head there first."

One of the house elves delivered sandwiches, pumpkin juice, and a selection of fruits and desserts that made Harry's mouth water. He was still trying to make up for some of the malnutrition he had suffered over the summer, and the house elves, no doubt led by Dobby, were doing their best to assist him in that quest.

Food cleared away, the two set off down the path towards the gates that led away from Hogwarts and into Hogsmeade proper. Draco turned and headed up a street Harry had never noticed. "Non-uniform clothes first. Then we'll head to Gladrags."

Harry soon found himself trying on Calvin Klein jeans and Tommy Hilfiger shirts. "Aren't these shirts awfully... American?" he finally ventured.

Draco turned to look at him and frowned. "You're right. Try Polo, maybe? You're really more of the Versace or Armani type, but most of their stuff is too formal for after class and weekends. The Calvin Klein's good for casual wear though. And one or two nicer outfits can't hurt."

An hour later, the boys were inside Gladrags, shopping for Harry's new uniform. First Draco pulled off a few everyday robes for Harry, and then handed a pair of slim wool pants to the other boy. "Here, try these for the school uniform."

Soon Harry was dressed in pants, shirt, and tie that certainly were regulation, but fit him much better and made him look, well, almost neat. "I have to say, I think the green and silver tie looks better on me." He grinned at his reflection.

"I agree. You know, for a guy, you sure are enjoying this."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "So? You must enjoy shopping too."

Draco sighed impatiently. "Yes, but I'm gay."

Harry stared. "Oh." He shrugged. "Whatever."

"Whatever? That's your response?"

"I don't really care about someone's sexual orientation. Especially when I don't even know my own."

"Don't know? How do you not know?"

"When you find both sexes equally attractive." Harry smiled sardonically. "Awfully greedy of me, isn't it?"

"I suppose so," Draco laughed. "That's something Severus might not have mentioned, by the way. We're the most accepting of any of the four houses in terms of sexual orientation. Everyone always expects the opposite. Sex is very casual in our dormitories. We even have threesomes occasionally - sounds like you might be one for that category," he teased, causing Harry to blush even as he smiled.

The pair was laden down with packages as they headed towards the Three Broomsticks in the late afternoon sun for a butterbeer before Draco would head back to his home. "Oh!" Harry exclaimed as they sipped at their tankards. "Draco, you'll be pleased. Hagrid'll be away this year. Severus said that the replacement was better than he sounded, as well."

"Who?"

"Charlie Weasley." Harry held up a hand to forestall Draco's protests. "Severus seemed to think he was almost put in Slytherin, though, and said he had had several friends in Slytherin, so he shouldn't be playing favourites at least. And Professor Lupin's back in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Don't scowl, I know your opinion, but he was a friend of my father's - AND my mother's."

"Okay, okay, I'll give him a bit more of a chance. He is a Dark creature, after all." He smiled sardonically and Harry had to shake his head, a rueful smile on his lips. Draco stood. "And now, I had best use the fireplace here to get back. Father will be wanting me home." He rolled his eyes. "Sure you can manage all these bags by yourself?"

"Yes. Although it'd be much easier with a good shrinking charm or levitating charm, wouldn't it? Blasted Ministry rules."

"I'll see you in two days, Harry. I'll try to prep some of the others without giving too much away once we're on the Hogwarts Express."

"Thanks, Draco. Today was... enlightening. And, dare I say it? Somewhat fun."

"It was, wasn't it? See you in two days."

Harry spent the next day much as he had spent the first full day at Hogwarts, reading and talking with Severus, as well as making sure all of his summer work was completed. He reflected that Slytherin seemed, at least on the surface, to take schoolwork more seriously than Gryffindor had, and he didn't want to be caught out and embarrass his new House from the start. Then, after the summer work had been checked over again, the Dark Arts books he had purchased beckoned. He was not disappointed; they were fascinating, and he couldn't wait until term began and he could try some of the various spells and incantations out.

Just before dinner, though, he spent over an hour trying to compose a short letter to Hermione. When he considered things carefully, he realized that he didn't want to lose her friendship completely, and she was still, essentially, a Muggle during the summers, unable to protect even herself, should something magical, like Voldemort or his Death Eaters, decide to approach her. The difficulty, though, lay in actually writing the letter. How was he supposed to ask her not to hate him, not to turn her back on him completely when she found out what he had done, when he did not dare to tell her in the letter what exactly he had accomplished. He wanted Hermione to know that he valued her friendship, and he wanted a chance to talk to her about it once she knew. Finally, he wanted her to know that he was okay, even if he didn't show up on the Express or at the Sorting Ceremony. Overlying all of that was a concern that she keep the letter hidden from Ron, and that she not assume that he had similar sentiments towards his former best friend. Putting all of that into a discreet letter proved to (almost) be his undoing.

Hermione,

I hope that you've had a nice summer. I've spent the last three days here at Hogwarts while discussing some important things with the Headmaster. I hope that you'll seek me out during the first week of Ugh that sounded like he wanted her to come onto him!

Harry got out a new piece of parchment and tried again.

Hermione,

Don't hate me!

No, that wasn't it.

Hermione,

Don't let Ron see this!

Um, no. That wouldn't work either.

Hermione,

Things are changing rapidly, and I am not exempt from the forces that are swirling around us. Don't be hasty to judge, please. I will not be on the Hogwarts Express, and do not worry if I am not at the Sorting Ceremony. I will talk to you before the first week of school is out, I promise.

Friends?

Harry

Geez. That sounded horribly cloak and dagger. But... it got the point across, without arousing suspicions. Or, at least, he wouldn't be suspicious if he read it. He rather thought it made it sound like this was all part of a grand plan a la Dumbledore. Harry was actually surprised that the man hadn't yet asked Harry to be a 'spy' in the Slytherin quarters. He snorted derisively into the empty common room. He was almost certain of one thing - no true Slytherin would betray another one.