IMPORTANT: I have recently read over 'Regrets Of A Wizarding Hero', and realised that my plot, along with my attention to detail, was pretty terrible. In a desperate attempt to pull the story together, I have thought long and hard about details, and changed the plot to make it seem slightly more believable. This first chapter has a number of similarities to 'Regrets...', but I assure you that this will not be the case in later chapters. (Basically, I am not plagiarising myself)
This WILL be a slash story in time, but in my opinion hate doesn't turn into love overnight, so just bear with me for a little while here...
Harry Potter had never been like the others. There had always been one rough, stubborn corner of him that refused to fit into the perfectly shaped mould; The Gryffindor mould.
He had tried so hard to be one of them, and had even managed to be somewhat accepted into their group. The so-called "Golden Gang". They were Dumbledore's favourites, the group of Gryffindors who could do no wrong.
To an onlooker, Harry's school life would appear to be flawless. They would see a sixteen-year-old boy, popular, with a close group of friends. But if they were to look a little closer, they would see just how disjointed and artificial Harry's friendships actually were. They would see that his "friends" couldn't really care less about him. The Boy-Who-Lived was nothing more to his fellow Gryffindors than an accessory, not a real member of the group, not a real person at all. And they certainly made sure that Harry knew his place. Countless jokes which excluded him, looks of disgust whenever he attempted to start conversations, and long talks about girlfriends (and boyfriends in the case of the female members of the gang). These conversations were the most awkward for Harry, as they were initiated solely because his so-called "friends" knew full well that the Boy-Who-Lived had never been in a relationship.
This treatment made it exceptionally difficult for Harry to be himself, and over time he had ended up beginning to conceal aspects of his personality in order to reduce the amount of teasing that he received from the Golden Gang. It had started small, simple things such as laughing at jokes that he didn't find funny. However, it had rapidly increased until finally, at the beginning of his third year at Hogwarts, there was nothing left of the real Harry Potter on show for the Golden Gang at all.
Despite Harry's best efforts to mask his true self, the teasing had continued. The gang of Gryffindors couldn't resist themselves, and constantly reminded Harry that he was the loser of the group, only allowed to tag along because of his celebrity status as "The Boy-Who-Lived".
It was the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts now, and nothing had changed. His so-called "friends" were gathered in a tight circle nearby, ensuring that Harry could not squeeze into the group. They were laughing and joking quietly, and the brunette had more than a sneaking suspicion that as usual, the joke was about him.
The new sixth years were standing outside their Charms classroom, waiting to enter their final lesson of the day. Harry allowed his eyes to wander, resigning himself to the fact that the Golden Gang had no intention of involving him in their little joke.
His eyes came to rest on the group of Slytherins, who were stood as far away from the Gryffindors as possible, talking amongst themselves quietly. Harry couldn't help but briefly wonder who had thought it to be a good idea for the Gryffindors and Slytherins to be taught in the same room – all that had ever became from it was a series of bitter arguments and a heightened sense of house rivalry.
Although the eleven Slytherin students looked relaxed at first glance, as Harry continued to stare at them he realised that every single one of them was far from being off-guard. The Slytherin's were all holding their wands, and were constantly glancing at the Gryffindors, particularly the Golden Gang. Harry couldn't help but notice their poise and elegance, even though the students were clearly uncomfortable. 'Probably because of their pure blood', the Gryffindor thought, fighting the urge to wrinkle his nose with distaste at the whole concept.
Draco Malfoy's eyes suddenly fell on Harry, and the Slytherin's blank expression was exchanged for a frown. Harry quickly cast his eyes down, wanting to avoid confrontation. Malfoy had been Harry's sworn nemesis since their first year at Hogwarts, when Harry had refused his hand in friendship, partly due to the influence of Ron Weasley. He sometimes wondered whether his life would have turned out differently had he ignored the redhead and taken a place in Slytherin with Malfoy. Harry would then remember that Malfoy had nothing but contempt for Gryffindor students, particularly Harry himself.
Lost in his thoughts, it took Harry a few seconds to realise that Professor Flitwick had arrived, and the Gryffindor students had already entered the Charms classroom. The Slytherins were following, so Harry joined the back of the group and walked into the room.
Once inside, Harry looked around the room in a state of confusion. Gone were the long rows of desks that had always resided in the dusty room, and in their place were a number of new, smaller tables. Harry gulped when he realised how many people the new tables seated. Six.
Harry glanced towards the table closest to the back of the room, already knowing what he would see. There were six people seated at the table; Ron Weasley, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, Hermione Granger, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. The whole Golden Gang except for Harry. A quick scan of their faces was sufficient to see that his fellow Gryffindors were finding his predicament of where he would sit rather amusing.
"Come on Mr Potter, sit down," squeaked Professor Flitwick from the front of the room. All of the other students had now sat down; Harry was the only one left standing. The Golden Gang were all laughing under their breath, but Lavender Brown managed to control herself enough to speak.
"Sorry Harry," she said insincerely, "I guess you'll have to sit at the other Gryffindor table". Harry looked at the other Gryffindor table, at which Neville Longbottom sat along with four Seventh Years whom Harry did not recognise, but he assumed they were re-taking the subject.
Normally, Harry would have simply gone and sat with the other Gryffindors, wanting to avoid trouble at any cost. However, there was something about the smug looks on the faces of the Golden Gang that caused something inside him to snap. He was sick of being made to look a fool by his housemates, and he knew that if he continued following their orders it would persist for the rest of his school life. Harry looked at both of the Slytherin tables, realising that there was a space free next to Pansy Parkinson. As much as he hated the Slytherins, the seat looked appealing - it would certainly show the Golden Gang that he was not their slave.'Are you mad?' a little voice in his head screamed, 'the Golden Gang will eat you alive if you sit there!' Harry suddenly became very aware that if he wanted to escape the constant torments of the Golden Gang, it was now or never.
Narrowing his eyes at Lavender, Harry replied to her suggestion "No thanks, I'd rather sit elsewhere." It took all of his self-control to manage such a polite reply. Lavender gasped, and Harry was suddenly very aware that everyone in the room was watching him.
Taking care not to make eye contact with anyone, he walked quickly over to the Slytherin table and sat in the empty chair. From the looks on the Gryffindor's faces, Harry might have been sitting at a table with Voldemort. Looking around the table he was now sat at, Harry could see that the Slytherins were no more impressed by his choice of seat than his own house were.
Harry could see why everyone was so shocked – Gryffindors and Slytherins didn't sit together under any circumstances. His classmates were all staring at him, completely gobsmacked by what had just occurred. Even Professor Flitwick's eyebrows were raised considerably.
When the minuscule teacher had sufficiently recovered, he cleared his throat finally began the lesson. Luckily for Harry, the lesson was a theory one so he was able to concentrate on his notes and ignore the withering looks he was receiving from the Golden Gang. The Gryffindors looked livid, and Harry realised that the other advantage to having a theory lesson was that there was no opportunity for the Golden Gang to 'accidentally' hex him.
Five minutes before the end of the lesson, a small paper aeroplane landed on Harry's desk. At first, he ignored it, but this proved to be impossible as the paper began to smoke and twitch. Harry knew that if he didn't look at it, the paper plane would burst into flames, so he opened it up in order to avoid any more hassle.
There were just six words on the piece of paper, written in Ron's untidy scrawl; "We're gonna get you for this" Harry suddenly felt very sick. 'What were you thinking?' The little voice in his head asked. The Boy-Who-Lived determinedly avoided looking towards the Golden Gang's table – he couldn't let them see that he was frightened of them. That would mean that they had won.
Instead, Harry finished the sentence he was writing and put his notes away. He did everything he could to keep his expression calm, despite the fact that inside he was starting to panic. Charms was nearly over, and it was the final lesson of the day. Harry stood up, his whole mind concentrating on one thought; 'Where am I going to go?'
Please do review this. Like it? Think I'm wasting my time? Let me know!