Chapter 1: The Daring, Nerve, and Chivalry

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Draco Malfoy was crying. He could only imagine what his father was going to say when he heard. Oh, he had really done it this time. His father had once told him he was a disgrace to the Malfoy name and now he really was. It wasn't supposed to have gone this way. He was supposed to be like every other Malfoy in history. But no. He had to be different.

His father had probably already heard. Lucius Malfoy always seemed to know everything. He was sure his godfather, Severus Snape, had told his father. It seemed like the sort of thing he would have done.

Draco wiped the tears from his eyes. He really couldn't believe this. He was a Gryffindor, a reckless, stupid Gryffindor. He must have been the only Malfoy in history to not be a Slytherin.

He would have done well in Slytherin. He had expected, his whole life, that he would wear the green colors with pride like his father. But no, he had defiled the name Malfoy. He had become a Gryffindor.

And to think of the way had a strutted around the Hogwarts Express with pride, nearly shouting that he was going to be a Slytherin. How wrong he had been! What was going to become of him now? He wondered. His friends had all been sorted into Slytherin and all the Gryffindors hated him for what he had said on the train.

Perhaps, he could write his mother and beg her to take him out of Hogwarts. They could send him to Durmstrang instead. They would be better, he decided.

Draco splashed water on his face. It was late, after everyone else had gone to bed. He had barely eaten touched his dinner and heard only a few words of Dumbledore's speech. He had talked to no one, choosing instead to wallow in self-pity. The Granger girl tried to start a conversation with him once or twice, but he just ignored her.

He just couldn't understand where he had gone wrong! His father had trained him to think the way Malfoy should, to act the way a Malfoy should. He was a complete facsimile of his father. And when that stupid, old Sorting Hat was placed on his head, he begged the hat to put him in Slytherin. "Greatness, I see," the hat had replied. "And I know where to put you." He had waited all his life to hear the hat shout, "SLYTHERIN!" But it didn't. It shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," instead.

Everyone was asleep when Draco returned to the dormitory. He laid down on his bed, wishing for sleep. But with the disappoint of the day, he knew sleep would not come. He kept playing it over and over in his mind.

He had been waiting for Hogwarts all his life. His father and Severus would talk about all the good times they had going to school. Draco wanted that. He wanted to learn how to use magic so he could be like his mum and dad. Every year when they went to Diagon Alley, he would watch the Hogwarts student bustling about, looking for everything they needed for school. He couldn't wait until that was him. And finally it was. He was determined to do his parents proud and he would be top of the class. He was incredibly smart and determined when he wanted to be, he had no doubt in his abilities.

Now, he had every doubt. Everything he thought he knew about himself was just a massive lie. He wasn't anything like his father or mother.

The next morning wasn't any better for Draco. He was exhausted from the lack of sleep. He waited until the Neville Longbottom had left and walked down alone to the Great Hall. He sat alone at breakfast and received his class schedule in silence. He repeatedly looked up at the Slytherin table across the Great Hall. He should have been there. He should have been sitting at that table, like his father had been, like all his friends growing up were.

Perhaps they would still want to be his friend, he thought. Perhaps they could all still be friends even if he was in a different House. A glimmer of hope shot through him. Maybe this wasn't as bad as he was imagining.

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