To say Harry was exhausted would be a gross understatement. Sitting in the great hall, listening to the buzz of voices around him was making his hangover unbearable. And he didn't think that him not eating made his headache any better. He tuned into Hermione and Ron's conversation, "… don't you agree Harry?"
"Pardon?"
"Oh honestly, I was just explaining how…" He stopped listening again. Harry loved his friends very deeply, but after the demons he had face this summer, he didn't feel as in touch with them. Or the rest of the world for the matter. It was too difficult to keep up with the pretence of being The Golden Boy. In fourth year, or fifth, it was as natural as breathing, but now all Harry wanted to do was go lie in bed cradling his beloved vodka.
"Oh look! The Sorting's started!" Hermione stated excitably. Harry looked at her, a pang of jealousy running through him. She still had her parents, still had her life. Harry wondered what he would have been like if he were a normal boy. No obligations, no responsibilities, it sounded so nice, so peaceful. Many people complained about how boring their family was, how dull their house was, Harry would give anything to be able to complain about that.
"Ahmed, Samira." Called Professor McGonagall. She was soon sorted into Hufflepuff. "Adama, Lee." Ravenclaw. The sorting continued until Angel Zhu was place in Gryffindor.
Suddenly the hat's loud voice filled the room. "I request to sort one other student tonight, a fifth year, whom I fear I placed incorrectly so many years ago." Dumbledore nodded his approval, Harry could see the twinkle in his eyes, even all the way near the back of the room.
Harry watched as the other fifth years looked around with fear, what if it was them, but he knew without a doubt that it was not. A snake was constricting on his lungs, as sure enough the hat called out, "Harry Potter!" All eyes turned to look at him, and he inwardly groaned, always the centre of attention. The trek to the hat seemed to last years. He glanced about him, Ron looked like someone had run over his broomstick, whereas Hermione seemed almost pleased, "I'll miss you," she mouthed as he walked past. Harry had told Hermione about the hat wanting to put him in Slytherin in the third year. Since then she had always said that he would make a great snake.
Finally he reached the stool, as Professor McGonagall placed the large patched hat on his head. No longer did it drape across his eyes, like it did when he was 11. The stool was to small, so was the hat, he could see every gawking at him as it chattered in his head. Why hello again, Mr. Potter. Long time, no see. Not long enough, in my opinion. You seem very resigned to this option. It's not as though I want to be in Slytherin. He thought, dreading the idea of having to wake up every morning to Draco's taunting face, Snape's disgusted sneer. All is not as it seems. The snakes are sly and cunning, they will make great allies in the future. When you actually think about it, you truly will be better off in…"SLYTHERIN!" There was no applause while Harry made his way to the Snake's table. He quietly sat down at the edge of the table, keeping completely isolated from the rest of the group.
"Well with that out of the way, dig in!" Announced Dumbledore in a cheery tone. Not in the mood for eating, Harry slammed his head down on the table. Big mistake, seeing as his headache tripled in pain. Groaning he glanced up at the Head Table, hoping to catch Dumbledore or Hagrid's eye. Instead he found himself gazing into the outraged black orbs of Severus Snape. This is going to be a long year.