"Only those who can dream of great Crimes ever suspect anything more than petty theft." - Lucius Malfoy

When Draco crossed the threshold of Platform Nine and Three Quarters his charcoal suit smoothly flowed into a robe.

Nobody witnessed the change. Draco wasn't showing off but he'd studied feverishly and practiced all during the holidays and it amused Draco. He knew it was a childish thrill, being sharply dressed in the correct fashion on both sides of the barrier. That realization didn't diminish his joy one bit, he'd dropped his Transfiguration at the exact right time.

It hadn't been a free Transfiguration; those took too long to master and he couldn't get nearly the amount of details down. His freely transfigured suits looked like they'd been tailored by a bunch of drunken forest creatures. Grindelwald had tutted dismissively when Draco told him that they started with free Transfiguration at Hogwarts. They started first years with fixed Transfigurations at Durmstrang.

Grindelwald and Dumbledore had argued pedagogy over the years.

"Of course Free Transfiguration is better," Grindelwald had said, "but what good does that do you right now? And roughly half the students will never be good at it. Bah. Yes, each fixed transfiguration requires it's own word and wand motions, but these can be derived. Did they not tell you that at school? Such strange teachings methods, that do not help the less talented get along yet also do not let the most talented shine. Come, pick some items, we will research it."

It had taken several days, but Draco had learned to Transfigure his robes into his suit. It doesn't count as bragging if nobody else hears, and Draco smiled when he stepped onto the platform, robes flowing smoothly around him. He kept up a brisk pace while his trunk padded behind him, moving through the crowd easily, saying hello, waving. Neville was already on the platform, fumbling through his trunk looking for Trevor. Draco didn't see Augusta Longbottom around. She'd probably already left. Vincent and Gregory were in an animated discussion, and Draco smiled even further when he saw they wore the matching robes he'd given them. His smile froze when Padma Patil glared at him, why would she be mad?

Oh, she likes me. Draco realized that she'd been around Slytherin, but had often hung around him instead of making new friends. She even joined the group rescuing you from the bullies, Draco remembered. At the time he'd just marked it down as Padma hanging out with Harry Potter and trying to make friends with the powerful students her age. In hindsight it was easy to see, and remember the other times he'd seen her and just assumed she was being friendly.

Your training never taught me anything about this, Father. Draco thought.

Six Month younger you didn't notice this, Father replied, so exactly how would you explain this to ten year old Draco?

Draco knew many of the complex love triangles. He probably knew more about them than any Wizard his age (although obviously less than any Witch his age). But he'd never thought the knowledge would apply to him. Draco smiled to Padma and waved as though nothing was wrong. I can't stop being oblivious now and walked over to the newsstand to see what fresh lies the Quibbler spewed.

GIRL-WHO-REVIVED DUELS NARCISSA MALFOY

SACKS MALFOY MANOR,

DRACO MALFOY PREGNANT?

"It's like they aren't even trying anymore," Draco said, as he slapped down four knuts and grabbed a copy. "I guess pregnancy news sells in the red tops."

"It does seem to at that," the vendor agreed.

"So, Hermione Granger came to my house, attacked my mother and then burned Malfoy Manor to the ground."

"Pity that," said that vendor. "It had lovely Feng Shui."

Draco flipped a page, "Then kidnapped me to be her love slave."

"You could do a lot worse, as abductors go," said the vendor. Seeing Draco's look, he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Usually it's the ugly ones that stoop to that."

"At least our child is going to be the chosen one who saves the world. Seriously, who reads this stuff?"

"I've no idea."

Draco shoved the Quibbler into his mokeskin pouch. He'd show it Hermione later. Maybe she'd actually burn them down. It was a pleasant thought, though of course she'd never do it.

If you actually date Padma Patil, she'd burn the Quibbler down for you, Father said. Draco ignored him.

Draco walked back to the train, stopping to interject himself into a crowd of older Slytherins.

"Jugson, Derrick, Lestrange," he said, nodding slightly. "I trust your holidays went well?"

"Not as good as yours, Malfoy," said Peregrine Derrick, smiling and laughing. Draco noticed that the others didn't join in.

"Silly rumours," Draco said, "It's my burden that witches find me attractive. Tell me, Derrick, how do you manage to keep them away so easily?" Now Ethan Jugson and Lesath Lestrange started laughing and Peregrine Derrick didn't storm off, but just smiled wanly. With MacNair expelled and the Hestia Carrow still recovering the balance of power had shifted. I need to deal with the stragglers, but maybe they'll just give up.…. Draco turned to Ethan. "How is your brother doing? Settling in after the move?"

"Yeah. He's excited, wrote several letters about it," said Ethan then, in response to the Peregrine's look, "Robert moved out to the Caymans. Took a portkey last week. Said he wanted to strike out and make his fortune and that he was tired of school."

"Aren't we all?" said Derrick.

Lestrange spoke up. "It's just the first day back. You can't be tired of it until ... February." Draco nodded, That's new. He hadn't heard Lestrange speak up in a group in a long time. Usually he just sulked in his room or wandered the halls, lurking. Nobody was really sure what Lesath did, apart from ducking bullies. Maybe he'd also had a better time of it, after Hermione and Harry's anti-bullying campaigns. It took a while to recover from trauma. Draco perked up at the thought. If Lesath can recover from years of torment in under a year, I should be fine any day now. Draco saw Hermione boarding the train and excused himself. Derrick made a little whip cracking noise and everyone laughed, including Draco.

After stowing his trunk and climbing on board, Draco found Hermione in a car with Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown and Hannah Abbot. Besides them was a copy of Septavia Magnusson's Flowers, Arrangements and Their Meanings lying face down on the seat. Obviously Hermione hadn't set it down, she wouldn't have left a book open like that, might damage the spine. Chocolate frog wrappers littered the floor. The witches' animated discussion stopped the instant Draco appeared. Draco blushed, then regained the use of his mouth.

"Hermione, I don't suppose you'd sack The Quibbler," Draco hoped his tone was light and playful. I must be insane, trying to talk to her when she's surrounded by her friends. Hermione shook her head and started to say something, but the other spoke up first.

"That's more of a third date sort of thing," Lavender Brown said.

"Good girls wait," agreed Hannah, nodding. There was giggling.

"Oh, I assure you Hermione was a perfect Lady and kept her hands to herself, but it never hurts to ask." Draco said to the assorted sniggers as Hermione blushed and stuttered. Insane or not, I can play that game. "Are you coming to Professor Slughorn's car?" Draco didn't bother to address the others, and tried to ignore their comments.

"No...I hadn't planned to. In any case I thought that wasn't until lunch?"

"My invite said eleven," Draco said. The Hogwarts Express let out a piercing whistle – last call – and Draco looked at his watch.

"You'd better get going, then," said Parvati.

"Yes, I suppose I should." Draco picked up the book and examined the page, then started reading out load. "Amaryllis – am I saying that right? – have a wide range of meanings with shades of subtleties. That is a nice turn of phrase, isn't it?" Draco thumbed through several more pages. "Fascinating book. You know, I really should read it some day." He leaned over to Hermione to hand the book back to her, winking when he hoped that the others couldn't see him. Then stood up, and made a small bow to the entire carriage.

"Ladies," he said, as he took his leave, shutting the door behind him.

That ought to keep them talking. Perhaps he should have made it seem like he was trying to hide the wink, but let them see. It probably didn't matter, and it's not like I can predict which would be better. Draco realized he'd have to seriously examine how his date with Hermione affected his reputation. And make sure that Hermione didn't misinterpret his joking. It certainly made things interesting. A number of students that Draco barely knew where talking about him, or at least whispering and pointing, as he made his way to the Professor's car. Then again, everyone always thinks that everything is about them. I'm probably just noticing the people who appear interested.

He passed Vincent and Gregory, sitting with Neville. Gregory waved him in, but Draco just flashed the invitation he'd been examining, shrugged, and kept walking. It definitely said 'Eleven am.' What would Professor Slughorn want to talk about in private? It could be the fallout from the expulsions, and the general course of House Slytherin. In his gut, Draco didn't believe that for a second. He slowed his pace, taking more time to say hello to people. No need to be early.

"Come in!" said Professor Slughorn to the knock. The Hogwart's Express lurched forward right as the door opened and Draco Malfoy stumbled slightly upon entering. There was a wide table between them and Draco's eyes scanned the settings, taking in the scene of (empty) chairs and eight elegant place settings. The glasses wobbled slightly as the train accelerated in small bursts, chugging forward. The table wasn't circular - no false equality here – and Horace sat at one end, able to view the entire table as well as the entrance to his private carriage.

"Draco, my boy! Take a seat, please. Would you like some tea?" Professor Slughorn didn't gesture towards any one particular seat, his hands were holding up a small pot of tea and he started to pour a second cup. He wanted to see where Draco chose to sit.

"Please. I wouldn't want you to have to reach across the table," Draco said, sitting down at the opposite end, He took out his wand and cast Wingardium Leviosa and gently drifted his tea to him and took a sip. "Fortunately, now that we're officially back at school, I don't have to inconvenience you."

Horace chuckled. "Oh, very good. But don't you want to sit at my right hand? You should want to impress your Professor and Head of House with your close rapport and set yourself up as my proxy over your fellow students."

"There will be students from all houses attending this, as I recall. And it is not clear to me that I want to be associated closely with my house. The opposite end of the table puts me in a similar position of authority, but as a counterbalance to yourself. Students naturally feel a pull to ally against Professors. And by sitting with my back to the door, I show implicit trust that I am safe from attack."

"Because of my presence? Or because of past events, I wonder? Well, either one works. And what of the non-Slytherins? What will they think?"

"They won't consciously notice the seating position in any case." Draco put down his tea, liquid still sloshing around. Professor Slughorn chuckled approvingly.

"Very good. Very good. I shouldn't test your training, but you mustn't blame an old man's curiosity. In any case, I don't even think most Slytherin pay much attention to these signals anymore. It's out of fashion. Did you not care for the tea? I have a wide variety to choose from. Darjeeling, perhaps?"

Draco's cup silently drifted back over to Professor Slughorn, who produced another pot of tea and poured into Draco's now-empty cup. Professor Slughorn refilled his own cup and took a nosy gulp before levitating Draco's tea back to him. He could see out of the corner of his eye that the significance wasn't lost on the boy. Draco quickly picked up his cup and took a sip.

"I honestly don't have much appreciation for the various types of tea. They taste mostly identical. If you hadn't said it was Darjeeling, I wouldn't have known." Draco set the cup back down.

Horace got up and went over to the trunk resting besides his chair, then opened it up and leaned dangerously far in, disappearing at the waist. "Next time I will stock some butterbeer, then? I may have something else ..." his voice disappeared for a few seconds, and the sound of rattling glass could be heard. "Hm. Perhaps I shouldn't offer underage students a wine - no matter how exquisite - while I am their official guardian and chaperone? What would the Headmistress say?"

Professor Slughorn stood up from his trunk and walked over to Draco, then offered him a small red and white can of Coke. "Or perhaps this is more to your taste?" Professor Slughorn gestured and Draco's cup turned into a tall glass, and he popped the can open and poured.

"Thank you, Professor. My unsubtle taste buds thank you as well. No point in asking how you knew about this," Draco said, picking up his glass and taking a drink of the still-fizzing soda.

Professor Slughorn sat down to Draco's left and he said "Tell me, my boy. What did you do this break? And where the hell is Gellart Grindelwald?" right as he met Draco's eyes.