CHAPTER TWO
"Harry, you're the spitting image of James. I know you'll make him proud."
Those were Sirius' last words before ushering Harry out the door of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, trunk and Hedwig behind him. Harry could hear the portrait of Sirius' mother wishing him well in the background as he stepped over the threshold and on to the street full of unsuspecting muggles.
Sirius lit his wand, held it to the sky, and within moments the Knight Bus materialized in front of them. Harry climbed aboard first with the feather light trunk with Sirius following closely behind carrying the bird in her cage. As he fished for a few coins, the driver pulled the conductor to the side, whispering "Blimey, that there's Harry Potter!"
"Harry Potter! Put that change away mate, you and your friend ride for free!" With that, the conductor ushered Harry on board. Sirius gave the man a close look over before consenting to follow Harry down the aisle. The two sat, Sirius on the outside, pushing Harry to take the window seat.
As the bus made its way across the British Country side, Harry found himself lost in the view. They would pass muggle streets and magical dwellings, cities and countryside. Harry was startled back into reality by Sirius poking him in the ribs.
"What?"
"You nervous?"
"No Sirius, no. I'm not nervous."
"Ah."
Sirius turned away, and Harry went back to his window.
After a moment, Sirius poked him again.
"What?"
"You nervous?"
"No."
"You sure?"
"Yes. I'm sure."
"You aren't nervous."
"No."
"You've got to be. I sure as hell was. But your father, he wasn't nervous at all. Or if he was, he didn't show it. We met on the train, have I ever told you that?"
"Once or twice."
"Just keep a lookout. You never know what'll happen on that train. Could meet your best friend for life, could meet a future girlfriend." He gave Harry what he thought to be a roguish wink. "Just keep your eyes open. You're starting the ride of your life!"
Harry laughed at the Sirius' corniness, and continued to watch through the window the world they were passing by. Sirius fished from his bag a tattered copy of the Daily Prophet and unfolded it. For a moment there was silence, before Sirius swore softly under his breath.
"What is it?"
Sirius turned his head to the side. "Nothing worth worrying about, Harry."
"Tell me."
Sirius gave a long sigh, and explained. "The Wizengamot's introduced legislation to restrict availability of upper level ministry positions to those with at least one parent of wizarding heritage." "So, no muggleborns."
"Right. There are precious few muggleborns in high positions right now, so it's mainly a symbolic gesture, and it might not even pass. Either way, Dumbledore will blow a gasket, he'll do everything he can to block it. But you shouldn't worry yourself about these things. Have your wand?"
"Of course, I wouldn't forget it."
"Hedwig?"
"You carried her in here."
"Right. Just being safe."
The Knight Bus came to a sudden halt, and the conductor's voice rang out, magically amplified throughout the bus, "King's Cross!"
Harry, Sirius, and several others filed off as the Bus evaporated behind them with a loud crack. Harry surveyed the platform. He'd never been, but had heard stories from Sirius pretty much ever since he could remember, especially regarding the Express itself. Sirius nudged him in the side. "Quickly Harry, platform 9 and ¾. Follow me. Try to keep from being noticed."
Sirius strode down the platform, Harry (bangs pushed down as far as they could go), trunk, and Hedwig in tow. As he reached a space in between platforms 9 and 10, he gestured to Harry, as if to say "Go ahead."
"Uh, Sirius. What am I supposed to be doing?"
Sirius smacked himself in the forehead. "Of course you wouldn't know. Ok, you see the space in between the two platforms –"
"- you mean the wall."
"Yes, the wall. You see it."
"I see it."
"Now, I want to you to run full speed towards that wall. Don't worry, you'll pass right through."
Harry checked for signs of a prank. "Are you serious?"
Sirius chuckled for a moment and Harry gave him a glare that said 'I dare you to make that god damned joke one more time.' Sirius refrained, and replied, "You'll be fine, just trust me. Also, once you're on the other side, make sure to keep a low profile. We don't want you mobbed at the station. We can wait for that until the train." Sirius winked, and waved him on.
Harry took a hard breath and set off at a little less than a sprint, Sirius looking on with a grin. As Harry's proximity to the wall grew, so did his fear that Sirius was, indeed, pulling a prank on him. Just as he was about to hit the wall, he gave a shout and covered his face with his hands, he could hear Sirius laughing in the background as he passed right throw the ephemeral wall. His shout, though, resonated through this side of the platform, causing several families around him to give him suspicious looks. He waved, slightly, and tried to regain some sort of composure. Sirius strode calmly through the portal to Harry's side, still laughing.
"Shut up."
"Priceless. Should have seen your face."
Harry glared at him another moment, and rescued his trunk from floating leisurely at Sirius' side. "I'd better be boarding here in a moment. So much for low profile."
"But nobody noticed who you were. Probably thought you were some muggleborn going through for the first time."
"That was my first time. You could have told me beforehand."
"You would have thought I was trying to prank you."
"And you sort of were."
"True, true." Sirius continued to chuckle to himself.
Harry looked up at the sound of the train whistle blowing.
"I'd better be off."
"Promise me you'll stay out of trouble."
"I can't do that."
"As I'd hope! Promise me you'll do your best to avoid being caught."
"That I can do."
"Good man. Tell Ron I say hello."
"I'm sure I'll pass that on when I see him."
"And good luck. Do be careful, Hogwarts can always be a little more dangerous than it seems."
Harry nodded. "I'll do my best. Thanks for everything, Sirius."
And with that, Harry turned and boarded the Hogwarts Express, Sirius watching on with pride.
But Harry, unlike Sirius, did not meet his future best friend on the Hogwarts Express. Nor did he meet his future girlfriend. In fact, Harry Potter, on his first ride to Hogwarts, did not meet a single person. Oh, he had tried, he'd looked for Ron right off the bat, but in what in retrospect seemed to be the start of a trend for the pair, Ron was nowhere to be found. And so, he found a small compartment in the back, and began to read a tattered old copy of The Beadle and the Bard, lifted from the Black Library.
Because of this inauspicious beginning, it surprised the entire class of first years at the Sorting that yes, indeed, Harry Potter: The Boy Who Lived was among them, and would be their yearmate for the next seven.
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Harry reflected on this as he once more attempted to transfigure his matchstick into a needle. As McGonagall approached the desk he was sharing with Theodore Nott, his brow grew a little sweaty for not having changed single damn thing about his match. He turned to see that Nott had managed to make his match go sharp and pointy, although it wasn't yet shiny or metallic. McGonagall gave him a nod and turned to Harry.
"Let's see you give it a try, Mister Potter."
Harry waived his wand with intensity, but the matchstick stubbornly refused to respond.
McGonagall shook her head and reached down to correct his grip. "Try again, if you will."
He did, his forehead tightening in consternation. But again, despite his best efforts, the matchstick remained completely and entirely a matchstick.
McGonagall sighed. "Continue working at it, Mister Potter." She gave him what seemed to be an attempt at an encouraging smile and moved on down the row.
Harry turned to Nott in frustration. "How did you do that?"
Nott, looking pleased to no end that he had bested Harry, smiled smugly. "Just a talent, I suppose. Just follow the instructions."
"I tried that." Harry said in a frustrated tone. "But nothing changed."
"Well, I'd suggest you do what McGonagall said, keep trying."
With that, Nott successfully completed the transfiguration. Smiling deeply, he even almost tinted red when McGonagall praised him for his work and granted Slytherin ten points. Harry, to his side, silently fumed.
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Several mornings later, Harry was at breakfast unrolling his Daily Prophet subscription when he heard a ruckus at the Gryffindor table. Looking up, he saw Malfoy standing with Zabini waving the Daily Prophet in the faces of several first year Gryffindors. Ron Weasley's voice could clearly be heard above the din, "Shove off, Malfoy!"
Harry quickly checked the headlines for the cause. And there it was.
ROSIER'S PROPOSED LEGISLATION PASSES: MUGGLEBORNS BARRED FROM HIGH LEVEL MINISTRY POSITIONS!
Quickly throwing down his copy of the paper, he made his way to the Gryffindor table beside Malfoy. Seamus Finnegan, Thomas' best friend, spotted Harry first.
"Potter, come to gloat with your friends?"
Harry glanced at the rest of the table and saw Ron sitting with the girl he remembered from the sorting. Malfoy was looking Harry up and down, waiting expectantly for his response.
"Just wanting to see what the commotion was about."
Malfoy jumped in. "Come on Potter, you've seen the paper, must have. Give us your take!"
Harry spoke carefully, "Well, it seems like this is just the beginning, testing the waters. Sets a precedent for further restrictions on muggleborns rights."
Malfoy laughed. "But what do you think Potter?"
Harry looked at the solemn faces populating the Gryffindor table. It was clear what they thought about the whole thing. Harry sighed. "My mother was a muggleborn."
Ron smiled slightly and Harry mouthed to him we should talk. Ron nodded, and just as Malfoy sneered and was about to respond, a shadow fell over the proceedings. Harry turned to see Snape had come down from the head table and was now standing before them.
"Is there a problem here?" He spoke silkily.
"No problem, sir," Malfoy spoke, "Simply was enquiring as to what the Gryffindors thought of yesterday's legislative breakthrough."
Snape's mouth drew into a taut line. "Indeed. I'd suggest that you all get moving, morning classes will begin shortly. On your way." And with that dismissal, Snape turned and stepped curtly from the Great Hall. Malfoy shot the Gryffindor table one more grin, and strode away as well. Ron spoke up.
"After lunch. Free period?"
"See you then." Harry turned and walked towards the defense class, hearing the other Gryffindor's grilling Ron as to why he would be meeting with a known Slytherin. Knowing he would be arriving at least several minutes early, but he didn't really feel like spending any more time in the great hall.
As he walked through the hallway, he considered his position in the school and not for the first time wondering just why it was he had been sorted into Slytherin.
"Slytherin would help you on your way to greatness…"
That damned hat. It never explained to him exactly why Slytherin would help him, or how he really belonged. He had never thought of himself as cunning, that trait Snape so touted as one of the invaluable characteristics of the Slytherin house. He wasn't sure that Malfoy was wrong. He didn't fit in the house, had made no real friends. He occasionally talked with Nott, but he wouldn't consider them to be close. His only friend from before school, Ron, had yet to even talk to him at school, although he was encouraged that that was soon to change.
And Sirius. There was something he dreaded. He had yet to owl Sirius, and knew he had to send something soon, or Sirius would begin to wonder. He wasn't sure what to say. He knew that Sirius' entire family had been Slytherin, and the he was Gryffindor. From what he'd heard, Sirius' father had never gotten over it, and had basically disowned his son. It was only because of Sirius' mother hat Sirius hadn't been kicked out and scorched from the family tapestry. His father had been a staunch supporter of the dark lord, as was his brother Regulus. They both disappeared around the same time several years before Harry's birth, and neither had been seen since. Sirius maintained that it didn't bother him. Maybe it didn't. But either way, Harry was sure that the news that he was a Slytherin would not go over well.
He reached the defense classroom well ahead of the rest of his classmates for the second time in two classes. He stepped in the room and saw Riddle already sitting at his desk, reading a book. He spoke, not lifting his eyes from the page.
"You're early, Harry."
Harry shrugged and took his seat. "Yes sir."
A moment passed in which Riddle continued to read, and Harry doodled an imaginary scribble on the desk with his uninked quill.
Riddle closed his book and watched Harry as he scribbled. Harry, noticing this, stopped short, and met Riddle's gaze. "Sir?"
"Harry Potter…"
Riddle stood and sat on the outside edge of his desk, facing Harry.
"You've surprised many people, Harry."
"Sir? I thought I'd been relatively unassuming."
Riddle smiled. "Exactly. You, the Boy Who Lived sorted into Slytherin house, but not a showboat, hardly causing a stir in your classes, you've confounded a number of expectations. Severus in particular is not sure what to make of you."
"That's not been my intention."
"No? Not taking on an 'unassuming' identity in order to maintain a sense of solitude, as a way of avoiding the stares and pressures of being you?"
Harry started. "I hadn't thought of it that way sir."
"Pity."
A moment passed, and the rest of the Slytherin and Gryffindor first year students filed into the classroom with the usually noise. Riddle made his way back to behind the desk.
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Several weeks passed from there, with Harry maintaining decent grades in most of his classes, excelling in defense, and continuing to struggle in Transfiguration. Each class McGonagall's look became harsher, as if she was almost done cutting him slack for his inability to succeed in the class. He was also occasionally approached by other students, surprisingly from all of the houses and years. It didn't appear that autograph seekers minded too much that he was a first year Slytherin. It did appear to be a problem when Harry was trying to do homework in the library and was approached by a gaggle of second year girls who got all of them, Harry included, ejected from the hospital by an irate Madam Pince.
On the positive side, Ron and Harry had rekindled their friendship to a degree. While Ron wasn't fully on board with the idea of Harry as Slytherin, the fact that Malfoy hadn't immediately become his best friend won him over, and both were able to make fun of the boy for his delusions of grandeur.
Malfoy had spent his first month in Hogwarts trying to rally the other Slytherin students, especially the second and first years, to his side. He wanted influence, and he wanted power, and he went about it with promises of favor in his father's eyes and the occasional bribe. He had even attempted to court Harry's favor, a moment which caused both Ron and Harry to break out in to laughter any time it was brought up.
"Potter"
Harry had been sitting in the Slytherin Common room, again with his tattered copy of The Beadle and the Bard. He didn't look up, responding distractedly, "Malfoy."
Malfoy took the chair next to him. "Call me Draco. We haven't had the opportunity to talk much, Harry."
Harry grunted in a sort on non committal way.
"Is there anything you want, Harry? Anything at all."
At this, Harry looked up. "Why? Even if there were, what could you do about it?"
"You'll find that influence can go a long way, Harry."
Harry snorted at this. "Oh really?"
Malfoy paused for a moment. "You would know that, Harry, but you don't seem to ever use it."
"It?"
"Your fame! Your scar! You could be running this school. But you just seem content to sit in the corners. I don't understand it."
Harry sighed, "If I could be running this school on my own, why do I need you?"
Malfoy flushed a dark pink. "Because you'll find that while your fame may help you win over the masses, I have connections to the upper levels of the ministry, which is far more important and more useful for your future."
"Your father has those connections, not you, Malfoy."
"If I put in a good word with my father, don't you think he would get you what you want?"
"Your father has been trying to meet with me for the better part of several years. It seems that he could have more to gain from my popularity than I could gain from him."
"Don't think too highly of yourself, Potter. You're just a pawn, that's all you'll ever be. People don't rise above their stations. You won't either. So milk it while it lasts, because it won't always be there."
Harry just laughed, and returned to his book. Malfoy, brimming with frustration, rose quickly from the chair and stormed off, Nott laughing in the background, having overheard the conversation from his position in the back of the room.
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The Great Hall was filled with pumpkins, live bats, and candles gleaming in celebration of the annual Halloween feast. Dumbledore was presiding as usual at the top of the head table, catching Harry's eye and giving him a short wink. Harry returned it uncertainly; himself was packed at the table between Nott and Tracey Davis, another of the first year Slytherins with whom Harry had had little interaction. She was a sort of mousy girl, with short brown hair in need of brushing and light green eyes that barely betrayed her annoyance with the boy whom she was sitting next to. But Harry could tell, mainly by virtue of the elbow she had "accidentally" placed in his kidney as she sat down beside him. Harry gave her a glare and turned to converse with Nott,
"Why does she hate me?" Harry whispered.
Nott looked over Harry's shoulder to see who he was talking about. "Tracey?"
"Yes Tracey."
"Beats me." Not shrugged. They were interrupted by a bountiful harvest of food appearing on the serving plates in front of them. Nott abandoned the conversation in favor of the roast, while Harry sat back in his chair, contemplating whether or not he should just ask Tracey now. As he made up his mind to do just that, the main doors to the Great Hall burst open with a slam.
Professor Tom Riddle stepped into the Great Hall, his wand out and a ferocious look on his face. It did not escape notice by the crowd that his arm was covered in not so human colored blood.
Harry saw Dumbledore's twinkling eyes turn harsh and his smile disappear as Riddle entered the Hall. He stood in a swift motion, but was too slow to speak before Riddle's voice echoed through the Hall.
"There was a troll. In the dungeons. Thought you ought to know."
