"So, Harry, do you play soccer?" the man asked. He was still trying to make conversation even after the last hour and a half of monosyllabic answers. Harry didn't know why he was trying so hard. It was painful to watch, never mind being on the receiving end of it.
"Not really," Harry replied, staring out his window, rubbing his sweaty hands together. It was pouring outside, of course. It had started the moment they had left the English countryside and had crossed over into Scottish territory.
Harry was hating this, and he just couldn't believe he had actually agreed to it. He should have known better than to trust Chief of Police Dumbledore. Never trust strangers.
Yet here he was, in a black, bullet-proof car, with Black. He was not a very old acquaintance either.
The man – unkept appearance and dark wavy hair long enough to have his Aunt grimace sourly when she had seen him – had been introduced by Dumbledore as Sirius Black. Apparently, he was out on probation thanks to Dumbledore, after having spent sixteen years in prison for drunk driving and assault. Of course, he said it was all untrue, that he had been set up, but that's just what every criminal said. Besides, he'd been drunk, it was only too likely he simply didn't remember.
"Well, if you find you're interested, Hogwarts has a great soccer team. Your father played, but I guess you knew that. He played central forward. Man, he was the best! Had us win the cup all five years he was on the team!" Sirius barked out a laugh, which made Harry flinch. It was very loud and throaty.
One positive thing had to be said about Sirius: he talked a lot about his parents, particularly his dad. Apparently, they had been best mates at school or something.
Harry had never known much about his parents. He knew they hadn't been great people – and the fact that they had been friends with an ex-convict only proved that – and that his relatives didn't like to talk about them.
After ninety minutes of car-ride with Sirius, Harry had come to know that his father had looked just like him but for his eyes. His mother had had green eyes. She had also been very bright, although Harry wasn't sure she had been all that bright since she married his father. His father had been smart enough, but he and his gang had been the troublemakers of the school. 'Marauders' was what they had called themselves.
Now he knew his father had also been a jock. Honestly, Harry was almost glad they weren't around to see what a great disappointment he turned out to be. He wasn't bright, wasn't a leader, wasn't a jock... he was pretty much nothing.
"Ah! Here we are, Harry. That's Hogwarts right there!" Sirius pointed in front of them. An actual castle had emerged from the foggy rain of the Scottish landscape.
It had towers and banners and everything.
It looked ridiculous.
And about the most snobbish thing Harry had ever seen in his short life.
It also really annoyed him that Sirius found a way to say his name in every sentence he spoke, as if they weren't the only two people there. It was still odd hearing his name pronounced aloud, and the continuing repetition was freaking him out.
The car pulled into a car park already filled with students. They all wore black uniforms, with ties and skirts standing out in various colours.
Harry hastily copied Sirius in getting out of the car, and watched him as he stood with his feet planted apart, hands on his hips, breathing in the damp air of an early September morning.
"Ah yes, still smells the same here. I guarantee you'll like it here, Harry. And it's the safest place for you right now." he said. Harry hugged his small travel bag to his chest, and said nothing. There were too many people, too much chatter, it was making him numb.
Scouting the area with his eyes, Harry's stare immediately focused on the darkest and most threatening-looking presence in the yard.
It was a tall, thin man, with a huge nose and curtain-like hair, dressed all in black clothes, a little old style.
It was as if the man had felt his gaze, for he looked up from talking to a bunch of green-tie students – the colour was the only distinguishing feature among the crowd that surrounded him, they all looked exactly the same to Harry otherwise – and sent him a glare.
If looks could kill, someone had once said.
"Dirty Snivellus. I can't believe he's actually been allowed around kids." Sirius muttered. He looked down, and noticed Harry's wide-eye stare.
"Be careful around old Snivellus, Harry. We went to school together. He was of the bad sort, a Slytherin... and Gryffindors and Slytherins have a history of rivalry that goes back to the founders... you'll be in Gryffindor you know, for sure, just like your parents and me." he patted Harry on the back. It hurt like bitch where his Uncle's lashes were still raw.
Harry couldn't help wondering if he would disappoint his parents yet again. For how he saw it, he was going to end up being anything but Gryffindor. It would be just like him.
The history of the founding of the castle, together with the odd and conservatory tradition of dividing students into four Houses, had all been in the acceptance letter he had received after his birthday.
Usually kids started Hogwarts at eleven, and were 'sorted' into their house upon arrival. Harry however, would be entering as a sixteen year old.
He still couldn't believe he had accepted this. Sure, he had been starving and in pain after a full three days without meals and the nasty punishment Vernon had served him after the news they had heard from the telly, which had scared them shitless. All this though, looking back, was not justification enough for thinking Dumbledore's idea of a 'safe haven' away from Surrey and the mad killer after his hide was actually a good idea.
On the plus side it's far away from my relatives too, Harry reminded himself. It had been the decisive bullet point on his pros and cons list…
It turned out he was Slytherin.
Harry and Sirius had been ushered in a small study by an elderly lady, grey hair secured in a headache-tight bun, lips pressed in a disapproving line.
She had introduced herself as Headmistress McGonagall, stated what they were going to do – a word and picture association test to determine his House – and then had proceeded to do it, throwing a disapproving glance at Sirius' puerile demeanour. She was no-nonsense, direct to the point and strict-looking. Harry didn't necessarily like her but he could acknowledge she was one of those people he'd have to be careful with.
The test lasted about fifteen minutes, after which the Headmistress wrote Slytherin on a white official-looking piece of paper and escorted him to his referent-professor.
Sirius lost the shit-eating grin and the bouncing on his toes after seeing that. Harry kept his head down and didn't look at his outraged expression.
"Professor Snape will be your Head of House. For any problems, emergencies or whatnot, you go to him." she explained as they took flights and flights of stairs going down.
"…What now? Old Sniv-" Sirius began with a half-growl. Harry felt a thrill of dread in his stomach as the woman shot him a fiery glare, knocked and opened the door to another study. Harry's instincts were more often than not, very right.
The man that rose to welcome them was indeed 'Snivellus'. He looked even more foreboding and cold from this close. And black. The contrast between his pale face and the rest of him was striking. Even his eyes were discs of liquid onyx.
"Severus, this is Harry Potter, the new student recommended by Dumbledore. He's been sorted into Slytherin. Mr. Potter, this is Professor Snape." The Headmistress said. Harry concentrated on keeping his eyes still and focused somewhere on the ground and not dart them around like a terrified bird's.
He exhaled very quietly, trying to expel with the air also the tight knot of tension in his shoulders. No such luck. The moment the man spoke he was back as wired as a string.
"A pleasure, to be sure, Mr. Potter" his voice was deep and had a peculiar diction.
"Now, Headmistress, you cannot honestly think Snape," Sirius growled the name, "to be fit-"
"May I inquire as to what you are doing here, Black?" Snape spit out the name with no less hatred than Sirius, yet still retained that perfect composure and diction he seemed to incorporate in every word he said. Harry trembled at the hostility in the room and curled his fingers into tight fists.
"Chief Dumbledore entrusted me to see that Harry has everything he needs!"
"I cannot believe anyone would entrust you with anything…"
"That is quite enough, young men. Mr. Black, you may see yourself to the door, you know the school. I have to prepare the Hall for the Great Feast and I will leave Mr. Potter in your capable hands now, Severus" the Headmistress gave a sharp nod to all three of them before leaving.
Harry's back throbbed at the double meaning in her words. Harry locked his eyes on Snape's right shoulder and fought back the instincts that told him to flee. Or vomit.
"You were dismissed, Black." Snape said softly, his whole body still frozen in clear hatred.
"Be careful Snivellus. I'll do the impossible to make sure Harry is re-sorted into his rightful house." Sirius throaty voice rumbled before he stalked off. Harry felt the weight of those black eyes the moment they turned to his head.
"I had wondered when I'd get to see the Potter spawn. I had deluded myself I would never get the pleasure," the Professor said in a particularly cadenced tone. Harry wanted to look up to gauge his expression but knew it was counter-productive to stare a dangerous beast in the eye.
"I don't know how you ended up in my House, Potter, but I assure you, if you will not attain to our rules and conduct yourself in a manner worthy of a Slytherin, I will find a way to remove you." he finished in the softest of tones. Harry did not look up, gave one slow nod hoping it would be enough, and worked on keeping his breathing under control.
It was at this point he thought he might have been better off at his relatives' house after all. At least there he knew what was expected of him. He knew the rules, and how to behave and what to say... he was completely blind here. For all he knew, he might walk in the wrong way and then who knew what his punishment would be.
"Come then, I will show you your room." Snape marched ahead of him and proceeded to climb down yet other flights of stairs.
The Slytherin dorms were located in the old dungeons. Luckily, there were heaters. Unluckily, the school obviously saved on light.
"You will attend all your lessons, starting at half eight in the morning. Your presence at breakfast and lunch is not mandatory, but you are required to show yourself at supper, six o'clock. Curfew is at eleven. As Head of House, I will not tolerate you being where you are not supposed to be, at any time." Snape explained as they walked, "In your room will be your schedule. Ask another Slytherin if you need directions to your classes and I do not abide either."
Harry kept his mouth shut and walked behind him. His knuckles were aching from how tightly he was holding his travel sack.
"This will be your room," the Professor knocked once before opening the door.
The room already had one occupant. The boy was slim, dark curly hair and pale skin, lounging on his bed with an open book in front of him.
"Mr. Nott, this is your new roommate Mr. Potter."
The boy looked up from his reading, glanced unimpressed at Harry before nodding at his Professor.
"Very well, sir." he said. Snape seemed satisfied with that.
"Good afternoon." and with that he turned and left. Harry stared after him a little dumbly before snapping back to himself and looking around.
The room was small, but large enough for two. It was definitely the largest room Harry had ever slept in. The bed had a pillow and well-kept looking sheets and a thick duvet.
There was a cupboard to store his clothes and a bare desk under the window on his side of the room.
"Theodore Nott. Friends call me Theo." the boy spoke. It took a moment for Harry to realise he was actually talking to him.
"H-harry. Harry Potter."
"A pleasure to meet you, Harry Potter." Theodore said, then went back to reading. Harry felt extremely out of place, and stupid. When he said friends called him Theo, did he mean that as general information, or was it an invitation to be friends?
Harry hesitated, not really knowing what to do with himself. He was afraid of touching the perfectly made bed and ruining it. He didn't have all that much to unpack and he didn't have any personal books with him that weren't textbooks. He had had high hopes on the library.
At last, he took a step towards the wooden cupboard. He slowly opened it and set his bag carefully in it, just as it was. He could feel Theo's eyes fixed on his back, watching, like a snake about to strike. He was not going to unpack his pair of spare clothes in front of him.
Surely, the boy had friends to spend time with? Would he have the room to himself at one point?
Turning around, he looked at the big bed, done in colours of green and silver, and noticed that there was a tie at the foot of the bed, of the same colours, blended in with the cover.
He'd have to remember to put it on tomorrow for his lessons.
Going to the wooden desk, he saw the class schedule and a map of the place. The map had seven faces, showing each floor of the castle.
Finally with a sense of purpose, Harry sat down at the desk to study it.