The Transfer Student (Part 1/2)

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Revised: 9/2021
Tags/Warnings: Muggle AU, Remus Lupin, Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom
Summary: Harry's dad got hired at some rich kid boarding school, and now Harry's stuck trying to navigate the bloody confusing mess and running into a certain blond as he does. Bloody rich kids
Notes: Harry's parents are alive! Woo!

~~~

"Bollocks," Harry muttered. His head jerked from the map he held in his hand to the hallways around him. "Bloody rich kid school."

His dad had been offered a position here over the summer. His parents were overjoyed at the benefits it offered and the new living area, and his dad was happy to be working alongside an old school friend. Harry was less enthusiastic. He'd spent the last three years at the same school, and thought he would be able to finish his education before university there. But now that his dad taught here, he was offered a spot as a student. It was a prestigious school, and universities would be more interested in him for having gone here. But it was bloody confusing, and Harry was going to be late to the one class he was somewhat looking forward too.

He did manage to find it before the bell rang, and slipped in through the door. The professor, Remus Lupin, smiled at him as he entered. Harry smiled back, walking up. Remus was family to him, and had made the idea of transferring more welcoming once Harry knew he'd have his class. "Assigned seating?" Harry asked.

"I'll be alphabetizing you once class starts," Remus said, picking up a paper from his desk. "How has everything been? Gotten lost yet?"

"Not yet, thankfully. Though not for lack of this bloody castle being confusing."

"Harry, watch your language in my classroom," Remus said sternly. Harry looked at him with a deadpan for a moment, before they both started laughing. Remus was worse than a sailor once he was a glass of firewhiskey deep, and they both knew it. "Go sit down." Remus shooed him away. The bell had rung while they spoke, the rest of the students having settled. Harry picked the closest seat, not getting comfortable since he knew they were moving.

Remus clapped his hands, introduced himself, and set about seating students by last name. Students grumbled and complained under their breath, wanting to sit next to friends. Harry was completely neutral over the situation. He didn't go to school with Ron and Hermione anymore, and he didn't even know anyone here. It didn't matter where he was sat.

"Parkinson," Remus pointed to a chair, moving on. "Potter, Pucey," he continued.

Harry sat, now taking the time to set up his water bottle, notebook, folder, and pencil. He had the syllabi of the other classes he went to stored in the folder, and he'd swallow his own tongue if Remus wasn't a professor to hand one out.

While Harry was settling up, a hand placed itself on his desk. He looked up to find a blond boy seated next to him. He was- Harry thought he was smiling, but it came across more as a grimace. He doesn't smile naturally very much, Harry thought. He cleared his throat. "Hello."

The grimace-smile-look remained. "Hi, I'm Malfoy. Draco, Malfoy."

"And I'm Bond. James Bond." Harry deadpanned, raising an eyebrow. The boy looked ruffled.

"Your last name is Potter, what's your first?" He demanded.

"Harry."

"Why'd you transfer in your last year? This is your last year, right?" God, he speaks as if he knows anything and is offended he doesn't know me.

"Yeah, it is," Harry said, looking pointedly at the hand that was still on his desk. The boy- Draco? made a potion with his head like Harry should continue. That moment Remus gained the classes attention, and Harry was saved from the aggressive questioning.

The blond student didn't question him for the rest of class, and Harry thought he was safe. After the bell, he went to Remus' desk and showed him his map. "Can you show me where McGonagalls class is before I get myself lost?" Harry asked Remus.

Before the professor could speak, the blond boy had sidled up to him. "I'm going to McGonagalls, come with me." The blond moved away, expecting Harry to follow. He got to the door, then turned to find that Harry hadn't moved and was staring at him oddly.

"She isn't forgiving to late students and she's a bit of a walk away. No time to waste," Draco prompted. Harry looked to Remus for help. But Remus, the arsehole, was laughing and shooing him. Harry glared at him and walked with Draco wearily.

"She's a hardass?" Harry asked. Draco sniffed pompously. Harry didn't even know people could do that. School full of rich people, Harry reminded himself.

"She doesn't tolerate much. But she's a talented professor."

"What kind of things does she not tolerate?"

"Like throwing paper at peoples heads, speaking while she's speaking, the usual."

The trouble kid attached himself to me, Harry thought, worried. "Sounds, erm, tough."

Draco looked at him with approval. "I knew you'd understand. Say, has anyone shown you around the local village? Quite a nice place, has a lovely restaurant me and all my friends go to on weekends called The Three Broomsticks."

"Sounds like a lovely place."

"Would you like to join us Saturday? We're going, and there isn't a better group to show you around."

"Erm," Harry rubbed the back of his neck. He hoped they would be in the class soon. "I'll think about it, thanks."

"There's nothing to think about. You'll love it, I'll even pick you up. Say, where do you live?"

Could you be any more pushy? Harry took a step away from Draco, who stared at him intently. "I don't know that I'll be able to go. I was going to go back for the weekend to help my parents unpack the house and stuff. Busy busy, you know."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I suppose that makes sense. But do try to make it work, you won't want to miss out." As he spoke, he led them to a doorway. Harry let Draco walk in first, and watched him go to a seat. Harry went up to the professors desk while Draco wasn't looking. He didn't look back to see if the blond had noticed, but thought he felt eyes on the back of his neck. That could be anyone, he told himself.

"Hello, I wanted to introduce myself," Harry said once he had the teachers attention. She looked stern now, but Harry could tell that the wrinkles around her eyes were laugh lines. "My name is Harry Potter, you've probably met my dad, James Potter."

She smiled at him. "Hello, Mr. Potter. I did meet him the other day, you have a striking similarity. I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, welcome to my classroom," she gestured around herself. Harry smiled and walked away, choosing a seat on the opposite side of the classroom that Draco had sat. He did his best not to look at the boy as he did. He imagined a look of horrific insult on the boys face, and felt a little guilty.

He took a seat next to a blond boy with a round face and toothy smile. The boy was looking at him, so Harry held his hand out. "Hello, my names Harry Potter."

The boy took his hand in a shake. "Neville Longbottom, but you can call me Nev. Only the professors and my Gran call me Neville."

Harry laughed. "Nice to meet you."

McGonagall cleared her throat, getting the classes attention. "I am professor McGonagall. In my classroom, you are innocent until proven guilty. I am giving you all my trust, and I hope you'll keep it. Though I've taught some of you before, and I expect a challenge." There was a wiry smile in what Harry thought was Malfoy's direction.

"You may choose where you sit until you prove to me you aren't mature enough to do so. The same goes for behaving yourself during my class. I expect this to be a pleasant year for us all." She continued her introduction. Draco Malfoy paid it little attention. He knew it would be like the ones she had given in previous classes, and he was busy staring at Potter. But Potter couldn't hear his mental demands to come sit next to him or to even look at him. Draco had never been so insulted.

If Potter wanted to play hard to get, he could. But Draco loved shiny things, and prided himself on his collection of them. Potter was exceptional to look at, nearly as much as Draco thought himself to be. They would look dazzling. It shouldn't be difficult to get Potter hanging off his arm, he would just pull all his charm out. He'd done it before, and he would be able to do it again.

Potter isn't going to know what hit him.

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