A/N: This is my first story, and my first time writing. Please be kind, and I will take all your reviews into consideration and to heart to help make this a better story for all the readers.
"Evil Men Have No Songs"
Prologue
"When a sinister person means to be your enemy, they always start by trying to become your friend."
"I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," the little blonde boy said shoving his clammy, pale palm towards Harry. Harry shook his head up and down and found himself saying his own name and shaking the boys hand, but not feeling happy about it before pushing off past him and ignoring the offer to room together.
He had heard the Malfoy name before, and not in good taste. The Malfoy's were said to be a dark wizarding family who assisted Lord Voldemort in his disturbing biddings. In fact, Harry was fairly sure he overheard his godfather whispering about how Voldemort was staying at the Malfoy house when talking to his father late one night.
Harry glanced around the room he was in and felt a shiver creep down his spine. Even though he saw other students, it reminded him of a prison.
'After all we are in a dungeon,' he thought walking down the cement steps. Everything felt cold, and the deep black and green colors did not help. The leather furniture made him feel even colder, and before he turned around and got back on the train to go home where his warm room of red and gold invited him, he forced himself towards the restrooms. How could he ever explain this to his parents, prideful Gryffindors? Slytherin was where the hat placed him, and without even a hesitation. Was he evil? Was he set out to be like the Malfoy boy he had just met?
He could see his dad's eyebrows pressing together as he ran his fingers through his hair, as he often did when he was frazzled or uncomfortable about something. He could picture the disappointment in his mother's eyes, the ones much like his own staring back at him in the frosted mirror. Harry sighed, removing his glasses, and splashed a little cold water on his cheeks, and still felt sick. Slytherin of all houses, where evil wizards were bred. Even the sink handles were in the shape of a snake. Harry looked up at the cold, concrete ceiling and turned.
'Might as well find a bed for the night,' he thought to himself. Before he could find himself out the bathroom door, he ran into that Malfoy boy again, and this time he had some colossal goons with him. Harry tried to step aside to let them through, when Malfoy stuck his long, pale finger in Harry's face.
"So," the boy prompted. "This bloke is Crabbe and this is Goyle," sticking his thumb over his shoulders as he spoke. "And you're going to be the fourth in our room according to some bogus list Snape laid out." Harry rolled his eyes at the name. Snape. Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, warned Harry about Snape before he left for school. Between the warning and tidbits of stories he heard, Harry not only didn't want to be in this house with Snape as head, but he certainly as hell did not want to be forced to sleep somewhere because of some list this detestable man created.