Achieving Greatness

Chapter 1

Three boys entered, and Harry recognized the middle one at once: it was the pale boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop. He was looking at Harry with a lot more interest than he'd shown back in Diagon Alley.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?" 

"Yes," said Harry. He was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards. "Oh, this is Crabbe and Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me that all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." Ron went to get his wand, his face flushed red, but Scabbers was asleep on top. Draco turned back to Harry.

"You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort." He tilted his head towards Ron. "I can help you there." He stuck out his hand to Harry. Ron made another noise trying to get Harry's attention, but Harry took hold of Malfoy's hand and shook. He liked this boy's confidence, the air of authority he imposed upon a room. Draco smirked, examining Potter head to toe, before fully entering the compartment.

"Scooch over, Weasley, unless you want what little possessions you have in that trunk blown to bits." Ron blushed to an even deeper shade of maroon.

"Watch it, Malfoy." Ron clutched his wand. Harry held back an urge to chuckle at the thought of Ron fighting Draco. What was he going to do, turn him yellow? Malfoy apparently thought the same.

"What charm are you going to use, Weasley? Did mummy teach you any, or was she too busy trying to take care of the shack you call a home?" Malfoy was testing Ron's tolerance, but Ron looked determined not to break, his jaw clenched tight. The compartment filled with nothing but the noise of the wheels clunking along. Crabbe and Goyle had created a fun game of squishing Ron to the wall in the silence. Harry wanted to interject, but Ron was being so stubborn! What did he have against Draco? As soon as he walked in Ron sulked and secluded himself from the others.

A thump sounded as a galleon Malfoy threw on the floor rolled over to Ron's toes. "Oh, Weasley, would you like to pick that up for me? Oh, but take care not to pocket it." Draco smirked as he watched Ron jump up, and aim his wand at Draco's chest.

"I'm not your servant, Malfoy!" His voice was as low as he could make it, but he squeaked when he saw a small, slightly smoking hole in Draco's robes. He smiled at his success, though it was not planned. However, he proceeded to collect his trunk and Scabbers, trying to move as quickly as possible.

"I'm getting away from that git!" Ron glared at Malfoy one last time before slamming the door. Malfoy chortled to himself, rubbing the hole. "Horrible temper those Weasleys have, I tell you." Crabbe and Goyle chuckled deeply, almost as though they were on set que's. Harry nodded quite eagerly. Ron overreacted greatly, what did Malfoy ever do to him? He only asked Ron to kindly pick up his coin. Quite a weak way to deal with stress, really. Harry toyed with his wand lazily, glancing out the window at soft meadows, as Crabbe and Goyle pulled sweets out of their pockets and Draco took out a dust-covered, antique looking book.

"So, Potter, which house do you suppose you'll be in?" Draco asked, still scanning the pages of the book.

"Well, certainly not Slytherin, seeing it's the house Voldemort is from..." He saw that Malfoy was still watching him with a rather amused look. "And Ron said-"

"No matter what Weasley said. The whole lot of them are Gryffindors, thinking they're all brilliant and such. Oh, just how brave!" Draco mocked. "What's stopping you, Potter, from being Slytherin? The Dark Lord was powerful and brilliant. And, Slytherin is the house of the purest bloodline, no Muggles messing it up." Draco handed him the brittle book, the pages a yellowish tint, entitled "History of Magic Blood." 

A chart hand-drawn showed Purebloods, starting with Salazar Slytherin, who Harry supposedly created the house. It branched into so many families and divisions that Harry began to feel his head ache. 

"Problem is, I'm not pure-blood," Harry said with a sigh, slumping back in his seat. "I grew up with Muggles. I wouldn't fit in Slytherin."

Draco winced. "You grew up with Muggles?"

Harry nodded reluctantly, thinking about the Dursleys, who he happily would not be seeing for a year.

"Did you like growing up there?" Draco asked, anticipating the worst answer; yes.

"No!" Harry said. Draco's face unknotted into relief. "They would keep me locked in a cupboard under the stairs, they wouldn't feed me if I did anything strange, and they never told me I was a wizard! How could I like them?"

"How could anyone like Muggles?" Draco chortled.

"I wish I had known I was a wizard... I would have cursed them a long time ago," Harry said. A smile crept on his face. "Though, I did set a python on my Muggle cousin once."

"Really?!" Draco's face lit up and he fell onto Goyle in fits of laughter. Harry joined in, remembering Dudley's shocked face fresh in his mind. Crabbe and Goyle started laughing too.

"Potter's funny!" Goyle said in a throaty voice and Crabbe nodded eagerly. Harry was positive neither of them knew what he and Draco were laughing about because only a few moments ago both were preoccupied with Chocolate Frogs.

"As long as you have some wizard blood in your veins, you can be a Slytherin," he said once his laughter had subsided. Crabbe and Goyle nodded behind him. "And until you can learn anything and everything about the wizarding world, I'll have to teach you. Read this first."

Draco dug in his cloak pocket and tossed Harry another antique book, smaller than the other, but it didn't have a speck of dust on it. The cover was a faded forest green and the binding was made of what seemed to be pure silver, though the book was strangely light. "The House of Salazar" was written in exquisite cursive on the front. There was a picture of a serpent below it, which would move its head and whip its tail.

"That book will tell you everything you need to know about Slytherin," Draco boasted. "Some of the most powerful wizards have come from there, and almost every wizard from Slytherin turns out fine. I mean, you don't see Slytherins working as janitors. If you want to be a great wizard, Harry, Slytherin is where you want to be. Trust me. You're parents would be proud to know that their son was on his way  to achieving greatness."

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