Draco stretched out luxuriantly on his bed “Oh, don’t mention it. Horatio, that is Horatio Scrivenshaft, owner of Scrivenshafts, the stationers, is a good friend of my Father’s. I told Father about meeting you and he thought that, as you were brought up by muggles, you might not be used to using a quill.”

“I… It was really nice of your Father to think of me” replied Harry, touched.

“Oh, Father is very good like that and, besides, he was sending me these chocolates anyway. Do have another.”

Harry selected a white one with black speckles.

“Ah, dragonfruit!” said Draco “Mr Honeyduke designed this flavour to celebrate my birth. He’s another good friend of Father’s.”

“Your Father seems to know a lot of people.” said Harry shyly.

“Oh yes, the Malfoys are one of the first families of England. We know practically everybody who is anybody.” smiled Draco, indulgently.

“What are your parents like?” ventured Harry.

“Well, my Mother, Narcissa Malfoy Nee Black, is a very beautiful and accomplished witch. She has a thorough knowledge of music, modern languages, painting, and dancing. She is also powerful: she passed all her Newts with Outstandings.

My Father is a duelling champion and has completed Masteries in Potions, Transfiguration and Defence. He also breeds briards: we’ve won best of breed at the IWHEC for several years running. However, his main job is running the Malfoy estate. We own substantial acreage in Wiltshire.”

“He means farming” cut in Blaise, who had entered the dorm. “Heads up Harry!”

Harry grabbed the ballistic éclair, squirting himself with cream “Thanks!” Harry said, grinning.

“Honestly Blaise!”

“Oh here, I got you one too” said Blaise, sitting down beside Harry and handing Draco a large cream bun. “Been raiding the kitchens. Well, I say raiding but it’s not exactly as if the elves aren’t keen to give stuff away.”

“There are elves here?!” gasped Harry.

“Mmm, house elves. Not normal elves. Hell, I’d hate to have one of those as a servant. They’d make me look thoroughly common.”

“You are thoroughly common” said Draco, picking the almonds off his bun.

“Draco Malfoy, don’t pick at your food!” squawked Blaise, his tone suddenly falsetto.

“My Mother does not sound like that!”

“Ah, recognised her, did you?”

“Look what Draco’s dad found for me!” Cut in Harry, anxious to avoid an argument.

“Oh, a quilling tip. Those are really useful, especially if you have to write long essays” said Blaise. “Nice one, Malfoy.”

“Thank you” replied Draco a little stiffly.

“You mentioned the INHEC earlier, what is that?” asked Harry, to break the silence.

“The IWHEC: it's the “International Wizarding Hound and Equine Championships”. A big dog and horse show, held over the summer. It’s great fun: in the Equine Championships they have several groups, including winged horses and unicorns. The Hounds Championships, however, are strictly for non-magical dogs. It’d be too dangerous to attempt to show Cerberuses and direhounds.”

“We entered a couple of our horses last year in the dressage.” Said Blaise. “It was amazing; we breed Pegasus and Mum allowed me to enter as I’m just tall enough.”

“Dressage!” scoffed Draco.

“Riding isn’t for the faint hearted, Malfoy. You ought to try it sometime.”

“It can’t be worse than walking a couple of briards: they’re big, strong and stubborn. If I had a gallion for every time I've been pulled over, I could buy Fortescues.”

“I’ve always wanted a dog.” said Harry. “But my aunt doesn’t like animals.”

“Mother’s not too keen either. The dogs tend to get a bit muddy and Father allows them all over the furniture. Anyway," said Draco, looking enquiringly at Harry "that’s the first thing you’ve told us about your family."

“I live with my aunt and cousin. I had an uncle but he died.” Harry said, looking sad.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Said Blaise “How did he die?”

“Car accident. He got hit by a lorry on his way home from work. He was in a coma for a while but the doctors said his brain had died.”

“That’s rough. My father died when I was four.” confided Blaise “He had a nasty strain of Dragonpox and the stupid Healer gave him the wrong potion.” Blaise grimaced “He got his comeuppance, though.”

“I heard your mother married him.” Said Draco, offering Blaise a chocolate cauldron.

“Yeah, she did.”

Draco snorted and chucked a chocolate at Harry, who caught it.

“Good reflexes.”

“Thanks” Harry replied shyly, biting the top off his chocolate and savouring the delicious caramel, which popped and fizzled on his tongue.

“My Mum’s an Italian. Hot Blooded." said Blaise with a grin "She's great: once, when my teacher at primary school yelled at me, she dumped a fruit flan right over his head: she was one of the parent assistants on a school trip. 'Don't you speak that way to my bambini'" It was so embarassing but also kind of cool, now I look back on it." Blaise smiled "I take more after my dad, though, he was really laid back.”

Draco laughed “Well they say opposites attract.”

Blaise grinned “Don’t they just. What’s your aunt like, Harry?”

“She’s… fairly hot tempered too. My uncle was very kind, though he spent most of the time working or at his Golf club.”

“Golf?”

“It’s a game where you have to hit little balls into holes with sticks.”

“Oh.”

“Well, I’d better get started on my Potions Essay” said Harry, standing up suddenly. “Thanks for the Quill tip and the chocolates, Draco. And thanks for the cake Blaise.”

“Bye, Potions Prodigy” called Blaise, as Harry headed for the common room. “Well, I’m off to take a shower. See you later, Malfoy.”

Draco waved Blaise off and, when he was sure no-one was looking, took some parchment and a quill out of his attaché case. A thank-you note to his father was due.

OoOoO

Charity Burbage had always struck Severus as a decent sort. Admittedly, it might have been because Severus and Charity were the proverbial ships which passed at night. Professor Burbage was a morning person, up with the lark and in bed with cocoa by nine, whereas Severus was, by nature, a night owl; he was always last down to breakfast and stayed up to the wee hours brewing, reading and writing articles for journals. Moreover, as it took a brave Slytherin to sign up to Charity’s course, Muggle Studies and, therefore, Severus seldom had either the opportunity or reason to fall out with her. This meant that Charity was one of the few Professors in Severus’ good books and vice versa.

Although that would change if the silly bint didn’t get her flouncy ass out of her bedroom right now.

“Charity!” Severus hollered through her bedroom door.

“Give me a second to get me tights on.” Charity yelled back. When Severus had knocked on her office door, she had answered in a fluffy, pink dressing gown. There had been a bear on the pocket. Severus was sure that he’d see it’s creepy, grinning face in his nightmares.

“Aww, crap! Laddered them.”

“Then cast Repairo.”

Eventually Charity opened the door. She was dressed in a sensible, knee length skirt… and a fluffy jumper.

Inwardly sighing, Severus offered her his arm. He expected that he’d be picking blue fluff off his favourite blazer for weeks.

OoOoO

Once they were outside the school, strolling across the grounds, Charity said “So, we’re going to find out whether a kid’s being abused. Who is it? Anyone I know?”

“Not yet.” Severus reassured her “He’s one of my first years. Poppy and I have reason to believe that he has been quite seriously neglected, if not abused.”

“And he’s in a muggle family, right?”

“Yes.”

“Funny that, a muggle-born in Slytherin.”

“We do have our share of them, Charity. However, this particular child is a half-blood.”

“It’s not…”

“Discretion, please.” Severus interrupted.

Charity hugged her cloak around herself. “What kind of people could do that to a defenceless kid?”

“Ones whom you would pass on the street without a second glance.” was the quiet reply.

OoOoO

Petunia Dursley hummed happily to herself as she liberally spread chocolate icing over a plump cupcake and sprinkled on a handful of bright, candy-coated chocolate buttons. After Vernon had died, Petunia decided that she couldn’t bear to send Dudley to Smeltings, a boarding school, and she certainly wasn’t going to waste her cash on Harry’s education. So Dudley had been enrolled at a private school in a nearby town and Harry… well, least said about that the better. At least the little bastard was out of her hair.

There was a knock at the door. Darling Duddy must have decided to come home from Piers’ party early. Wiping her fingers on a dishcloth, Petunia bustled into the hall.

“Duddy, what a lovely surprise!” she exclaimed, opening the door.

“Hello Petunia.” smirked Severus Snape.