The Wizarding world believed the most terrifying power of all was that of Necromancy. That was, of course, until Harry Potter chose to teach them that there was more out there. Something else.

I do not own Harry Potter or any characters created by its author. I do, however, claim rights to the idea of the story and anything that will be thought up in the process of its evolution.

There is no set pairing as of yet, please feel free to offer up suggestions. If one pairing is more dominantly requested than another, I will most likely go the route in which the most people have voted.

This story will be slash.. do remember that when sending in your votes.

Last but certainly not least, do enjoy.

The Scent of Fear

So this is Hogwarts.

He looked up at the impressive castle as it came into view, his hooded gaze studying every peak of each tower even as he leaned against the side of the small boat that rocked steadily in the water as it waded towards the massive building he would soon be calling 'home.'

He unconsciously swept the ruffled bangs out from in front of his eyes, the green color of his orbs cutting through the darkness as he steadied himself as the jolt of the small boat hitting land caused the other young passenger to fall forward with a small yelp of surprise.

Harry spared him a cursory glance. The bright red hair clashed against the pale freckled face, but who was he to judge another person? This world was new to him. For all the knew the red haired blue eyed stranger could be someone important in this strange reality.

He rose up out of the boat and easily claimed the ground with his feet as he began to move with the rest of the crowd, long legs eating up the distance between him and the front doors even as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and let his mind wander.

Oh, if only Dudley could see him now.

But Dudley couldn't see him. In fact, Dudley couldn't see anything.

His lips twitched at the thought but he pushed it to the side for now, following the general crowd as they surged into one area before stopping and waiting. For what, he did not know, nor did he really care.

He felt a weight on his shoulder and turned his head slightly to the left in order to look behind him at a smiling giant. Hagrid was his name; the one who had come and whisked him away into the world of Magic when he had turned eleven. The giant man gave him what he guessed was supposed to be a reassuring smile before he lumbered off only to be replaced by a strict and stern looking woman who had to be at least in her fifties. Her greying hair was pulled back into a sharp unforgiving bun and her lips were pursed in a perpetual frown. The lines over her forehead did nothing for her, nor did the hard glittering eyes that swept over the entire group.

He ignored the fact that her gaze tended to linger upon him and he also ignored the fact that the red head that had shared the same boat as him sidled closer with the close scrutiny. He had never understood the minds of other people. Why would someone he knew nothing about and who in turn knew nothing about him desire so obviously to be close to him?

He shrugged off the thought and moved forward yet again to follow the stern woman; McGonagall was her name, into a overly large banquet hall. His eyes darted to and fro as he tried to take in as much as possible in little time. When they came to a stop before a large platform where a stool sat with a large pointed hat sitting upon it, he instantly focused in on the seemingly inanimate object.

He felt compelled for a moment to turn and let these people know that they had a very living, very breathing hat in their school when the hat itself begun to warble out a rather ridiculous song that he did not bother listening to.

When the hat was finished he chanced another glance around the large room to find that most of those who were standing around with him had slack jaws and wide eyes. It would probably be good for him to have the same expression, but then names were being called and he was drowning out everyone again.

Until his own name was called.

"Harry Potter!"

It rang out sharp and crisp in the suddenly silent dining hall and he took a deep breath in through his nose only to let it out slowly through his barely parted lips. He could feel hundreds of eyes boring into his back as he climbed the few stairs that would take him to the stool. When he sat down he was offered an encouraging smile from the stern woman named McGonagall before that worn down patch worked hat was placed upon his own unruly hair. The whispers that broke out around the Great Hall were drowned out easily by a voice that reverberated throughout his mind, sliding through his thoughts like smoke.

"Hello there, Child." The voice whispered into his head and he let his chin dip down towards his chest. He could see nothing; the brim of the hat folded down in front of his eyes and kept him blinded for the most part. He said nothing in return, at least not out loud, but the large question mark that popped up inside of his mind was enough to make the voice chuckle pleasantly.

"I am the Sorting Hat.. though I have been called many things in the past." There was a pause in speech and he felt something slithering through his thoughts once more before a hum proceeded more words. "Your thirst for knowledge is quite impressive, young Harry Potter." He had the distinct impression that the hat was surprised by what he was finding within his head but still he said nothing. "Your undeniable urge to gain power, though.. this is most impressive indeed. Your brashness, however, would place you well in Gryffindor. All Potter's have been Gryffindor's, after all." Another pause and he shifted on the stool, slightly irritated that the hat was delving so deep within his mind. It felt somewhat perverse.

"But what's this?.." The voice murmured softly, tone pitched low and disbelieving. He tried to shut the damn thing off from getting closer to that particular area of his mind, but he realized all too soon that if the hat wished to see something, it would see it. Another chuckle rolled through his head and the hat virtually purred in his mind. "Now that is something truly interesting to know. I wonder what the Headmaster would think of it?"

"Don't," he spoke out loud in a firm whisper. It was a warning as his body seized up and his eyes narrowed behind the brim of the hat, fingers unconsciously twitching. An amused feeling washed through him but it was not his own and he wondered idly if the hat could influence anyone to feel whatever it felt.

"Oh, don't you worry my little protégé. I shan't tell a soul."

"SLYTHERIN!"

If possible, the silence became even more deafening. He took the hat off of his own head after a few moments of waiting and when he looked up and to the side he met the gaze of the stern woman McGonagall who looked almost as if she had been hit with a particularly surprising revelation.

He trailed his green eyes over the crowd of gaping student, past the floundering face of the red headed boy that had been stealing glances at him all day long, to the table of Slytherin's that all looked positively gob-smacked. When he stood and offered the hat to McGonagall, he chanced a look towards the long table where all of the professors sat.

Most of them looked rather shocked and confused. The best of all, though, were two that stuck out starkly against the rest of their coworkers. The headmaster was leaning back in his chair, blue eyes a bit wide behind his thin spectacles and mouth slightly parted in disbelief. His hands were paused mid raise, as if he had been about to clap but chose at the last moment not to.

The other… well. He didn't quite know what to think about him. Pale skin and sharp features were framed by shoulder length black hair that looked as if he had gone an extra day without a shower, onyx colored eyes were narrowed and piercing as if he was attempting to see right through the young boy's soul. He had his hands clasped together in front of his face, no doubt hiding the heavy frown of astonishment that he must be feeling.

With a simple blink to draw his gaze away from the other man he turned and began the trek towards the table where all of his new housemates sat. People watched him all the way until he sat at the far end of the table, closest to the large doors of the entrance, and he felt relieved when they finally turned their attention back to the rest of the sorting.

The people that sat closest to him watched him from the corner of their eyes warily as if he were some sort of rabid unpredictable animal that might possibly lash out at any given time. He considered jumping towards them to see if they would flinch away from him but figured that that wouldn't be the best way to start out his very first day in a new school, let alone a whole new society.

"Are you really the Harry Potter?"

The voice was so soft that he almost missed the question altogether. As it was, he hadn't been overly distracted by anything so he found his head turning to his right, across the table, to stare at a small boy that sat huddled in on himself. He wasn't another first year; that was blatantly obvious in the fact that he was already garbed in a robe that was emblazoned with the crest of Slytherin. He felt his lip twitch at the way the other boy's eyes darted back in forth to see if anyone was paying attention to them before slightly unfocused brown eyes met his own in what could only be interpreted as shyness. Harry though.. he wasn't at all fooled.

"If I was not, do you think people would be staring at me so much?" The question was not meant to be chastising, simply curious. The shifty eyed boy scooted a little closer, moving until he was right in front of Harry, and then a small smile curled over his lips.

"Kotes, pleasure to meet you, Harry Potter." A small hand was offered to him over the table and Harry took it after a moment of staring at it. As soon as his fingers closed around the other's hand, though, those unfocused brown eyes sharpened and focused in on him with the same intensity that the greasy haired professor had been not minutes before.

After a charged moment that didn't seem to make any sense he was compelled to answer and said, simply, "I'm sure the pleasure is mostly mine."

The other boy nodded and drew his hand back, falling silent. Harry didn't think much on the strange occurrence; especially since food had suddenly appeared in front of him with heavy delicious scents that teased him into placing a fairly large portion of mince pie on his plate, along with several buttered rolls. As he tucked into his food his mind strayed to the lanky haired professor and he caught himself slyly gazing up at the table where the professor sat, his eyes once again meeting with burning coal.

This year might be interesting after all, he told himself as he nibbled at his bread.

Reviews are encouraged.

Remember, pairing is up for suggestion. Do feel free to throw your desires my way. I may humor you.