Chapter 1
Not Slytherin, not Slytherin, not Slytherin...
But taking no notice of Harry's desperate, rhythmatic thoughts, the rip at the brim of the Hogwarts Sorting hat declared triumphantly,
"SLYTHERIN!"
There was around a second when the air surrounding the Sorting Hat's words were thick with silence, when the students had barely enough time to gasp, when every single eye in the Great Hall was upon the famous Harry Potter, who had just been sorted into Slytherin House.
Though he had always been a wizard, it was only in the past month that he had been taught of magical culture, of light and dark, of Gryffindor and Slytherin, of red and green. He was new to it all, and all he knew about Slytherin house was what had been told to him by the Gryffindors, who assured him that despite their appearances, they were the 'good guys'. He had been told that it had produced more dark wizards than any other. He had been told that they were extremely predjudiced against Muggle Born wizards. And he had been told that the great but terrible Lord Voldemort himself had been one.
No matter how many times the wizards would bring up Harry Potter's mysterious past, all he wanted, more than anything else in the world, was to be released from it.
And as he walked far across the Great Hall to the Slytherin table, he felt like he was in the eye of the storm.
He was aware of Ron Weasley's crestfallen face.
He was aware of Fred and George whispering darkly to each other behind their hands at the Gryffindor table.
He was very much aware of the mutterings of his fellow classmates that seemed to trail him like dust from his new, forged path.
He was aware but he himself was numb.
Without realizing it fully, he had reached his new 'house' table. Green and silver tracked his sight everywhere he tried to look, but it was the boy next to him who was the most intriguing about this dreary color combination. Harry couldn't help noticing how well the blonde hair worked with the green and silver of his new tie. He glanced sideways at the pale boy… and drew his eyes away as he realized that the boy was looking straight back.
Right. Everyone did that now. He had simply forgotten.
As the shock of the famous Harry Potter being sorted into Slytherin wore away, the young boys conversations faded into awkward 'how was your summer's punctuated by the clatter of forks and knives. But Harry could feel the heat of those cold gray eyes still upon him.
Harry smiled slightly at the platinum haired stranger. This boy was certainly not making the situation less awkward.
The boy responded to the brief smile. His words dripped confidence and Harry wondered how.
"So you're the famous Harry Potter. In my house."
Harry nodded, keeping his eyes on his untouched treacle. He didn't know where this conversation was going, but he didn't like the way the boy said 'my house'.
"You certainly don't look very happy with the hat's choice." In the moment, he felt even more awkward at this seemingly accusational tone. Later he would learn that that was just the way the boy spoke.
Harry felt it would be imprudent to say that he had really been hoping for, well… anything except this house. Instead he smiled passably. "Mmm."
He wasn't going to lie either.
The blonde didn't seem to pay any attention to Harry's discomfort. "Well, I'm Draco Malfoy. Welcome to Slytherin House."
Harry noted that even though this Draco Malfoy was the same age as himself, he spoke as if he had known Slytherin House would be his Hogwarts house since he was born. With a pang, Harry realized that he had never had the comfort.
He yearned for it.
But only for a second. It passed, leaving him slightly confused. This new wizard thing was all very new to him.
It's going to be a long seven years, he thought with an inward sigh.
As if Malfoy knew what he was thinking, he suddenly smiled and held out a hand. "You'll learn sooner or later that some wizards are better than others. You don't want to be making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you out there."
The boy certainly seemed knowledgeable. Harry took it.