"Harry!" And there's brown curly hair in his nose, arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
"Wha- Hermione, lemme breath-"
"Harry we were so worried - you didn't show up at all in the common room and Ron had to cover for you, and then this morning he said you hadn't come back at all and oh Harry, ProfessorMcGonagall came and told us and I for one think that it's a good idea-"
"Breathe, Hermione," Ron grinned slightly, but his bunch eyebrows betrayed his worry.
They were sitting in the Great Hall at the Gryffindor table. Harry was sure Professor McGonagall had noticed, but she hadn't glanced at him once all morning. Breakfast had started about half an hour and the hall was steadily filling up.
Harry glanced around the hall and tucked his head closer to Ron and Hermione's.
"Slytherin. It's absolutely mental, " Ron shook his head. "Why would they listen to you - uh, no offence Harry."
Ron's ears turned pink at Hermione reproachful stare.
"Well, I dunno' but I spose' I have to try, don't I?" Harry said. He didn't know what Dumbledore was thinking. He was hated by the press and all of the Slytherin's last year had worn the "potter sucks" badge. Malfoy was in Slytherin.
"I think it's a great idea," said Hermione fiercely. "Professor Lupin was telling me about how in the last war, Slytherin was targeted for recruitment. And if even one Slytherin doesn't join You-Know-Who because of you, then I think it's worth it. "
Harry focused intently on the crack in the dining hall table.
"Have you talked to any of them yet?" asked Ron, then with a disgusted grimace, "You have to share a dorm with Malfoy."
"Well no, I haven't really had the chance yet," Harry said defensively. So he may have gotten up early to avoid that.
"Mr Potter, " called Professor McGonagall. She had a stack of papers in her hand. "Although your head of house has changed -" she gave him a pointed look, "I have your timetable with me and so shall save Professor Snape the trouble."
"Miss Granger, Weasley."
Hermione eagerly accepted her own timetable, which while full was considerably less so than 3rd year. Ron and Harry took theirs with some reluctance.
"Potter, I don't need to remind you of your new house?"
"No, Professor," Harry responded glumly, gathering his bag.
"We'll see you soon, Harry," said Hermione quickly.
"Yeah - look we've got double potions after history, and you know they always put Slytherin and Gryffindor together," Ron added.
"Yeah," he muttered, feeling a bit dramatic. With a lingering glance at the Gryffindor table, he walked his way across the hall to Slytherin's. The table itself wasn't too far away from Gryffindor, but the distance felt like a mile. Students stopped and gaped at him from all houses as he went to the end of the table closest to the entrance of the Great Hall and sat with a heavy sigh.
Yes.
He was being dramatic.
But hadn't he gone through enough? Hadn't he spent the summer alone with no information, no friends, no Sirius? Why did the Ministry and Dumbledore have to make his life at Hogwarts just as isolating?
The hall was filling up quicker and quicker. He refused to glance down the table where the Slytherin's his year were sitting. He could tell Malfoy and his cronies weren't there yet from the sheer lack of taunting.
He fiddled with his plate, grabbing a knife. He couldn't stand the thought of eating, but Ron and Hermione's burning gaze on his back encouraged him to spread some jam on toast.
As he meticulously spread the jam on the toast (for something to do with his hands mostly), he felt a new resolve hold him.
He could survive this.
After all, hadn't he survived the Dursleys? He was used to being unwanted and the novelty had been friends, not the lack thereof.
He could blend in, observe from the background and speak up when necessary - he wanted to show them that they could stand up. Their only option wasn't Voldemort - and maybe wasn't Dumbledore either.
"Potter?" Asked a voice. Harry jerked slightly, turning to his right. It was Theodore Nott.
"Avery. Nott. "He remembered the high pitched voice saying. His father had been at the graveyard had watched him get tortured, laughed at his pain -
"So you're our mysterious new dorm mate." He looked at Harry consideringly. Harry fought to keep his face impassive. As far as he could remember, Nott hadn't done anything to him personally. He never spoke up and was always along the edges of Malfoy's gang.
But his father had been behind one of the masks.
Nott seemed to catch his whitened knuckles and smirked slightly as if confirming something to himself. As if Harry had proven some sort of bias already as if he would not look twice at Nott and Harry out of instinct more than anything blurted out,
"Not particularly mysterious - I'm sure you heard me come in last night."
Nott turned back.
"Not as unobservant as you look, then." He said. "No, Malfoy told us all on the train."
Harry startled slightly.
Malfoy had known before he did?
Between his possible dig at Sirius' identity and his knowledge about Harry's transfer...
"And?"
Nott raised an eyebrow.
"And what?"
"And what do you think about it?"
Nott looked ready to roll his eyes. Harry was sure he came off as subtle as a hammer, but he wanted to know. What did his now dorm mates think of the transfer?
"We placed bets on how long you'd last," Nott said. Harry didn't know if he was serious or not. "And Malfoy seemed pleased."
Harry's neck twisted so sharply, he thought he heard a crack. If he hadn't just finished his bite of toast, he might've choked on it. Malfoy? Pleased?
Nott's smirk widened.
"Theo!" Called a high pitched, nasal voice. Pansy Parkinson, in tow with Milicent Bulstrode. "What are you doing?"
"Just welcoming the newest snake into the house," Nott called back, pleasantly. Apparently guessing Nott wasn't about to shift from his seat next toHarry, Parkinson heaved a long, exasperated sigh, not unlike Hermione's, and sat down on the other side of the table.
Harry did his best not to gawk openly at the Slytherins.
He avoided eye contact with Bulstrode, his lips twitching despite himself at the memory of the cat hair polyjuice incident.
The table was silent for a few moments, the two girls and Nott appearing to have silent conversations with their eyes.
"Harry Potter!" Called an angry, female voice from the Gryffindor table. Cursing under his breath, he watched Angelina Johnson, who had taken over the post of Quidditch Captain since Oliver Wood had left, approach the Slytherin table. Her face was a blotchy red and Harry grimaced. It seemed she had been told about the transfer and his removal from the Quidditch team.
"Angelina..."
"One year. " She said fiercely. "I get one year as Captain, and you've gone and left the team!"
"It's not as if I asked for it!" He snapped.
"Of course not!" She snapped right back. "I'm not angry at you, you pillock, I'm angry for you!"
Harry, who had been prepared to defend himself stopped abruptly.
"- what?"
" The ministry has no right! None!" She ranted. "I've talked to McGonagall she said she can't do anything, but me and the team," here she gestured behind her to where he noticed was the rest of the team hanging back a little. Fred and George winked at him, Alicia and Katie gave a fierce look. "We're going straight to the Board of Governors - you'll be a Slytherin in every way but in Quidditch."
Harry grinned at her, a little dumbfounded.
"Don't worry, Harry," piped up Fred, seeming to read Harry's surprised look as what it was. "Heir of Slytherin or not, you'll always be ickle Harrikins to us."
A snort from beside him made him remember where he was.
Nott was smirking slightly.
"Potter, I think your own friends insult you more than Slytherin does."
Angelina turned her glare on him, and to Nott met it unfazed.
"You did call him a pillock." He reminded her.
"Miss Johnson, " the low threatening voice of Snape joined them. "Mr Weasleys'." He sneered. "Kindly return to your house."
With a final fierce glare at Harry and an encouraging pat on the back from Alicia, they turned to walk away. George slipped something in his hand before he joined the others, whispering "just a bit of insurance," out of the corner of his mouth. Under Snape and the other Slytherin's watchful gaze, Harry slipped it up his sleeve under the guise of an itch on his wrist.
"Ten points from Gryffindor," added Snape, "for cursing."
Harry rolled his eyes. Snape caught it, and opened his mouth and then seemed to remember Harry was in Slytherin now. It wouldn't be as satisfying to take points. He snapped it shut and resolutely ignored his existence, handing out timetables.
"So," smirked Parkinson. "Ickle Harrikins,"
Harry felt his ears burn.
"Oh, knock it off Pansy," Nott replied, "doesn't your mum call you her flower?"
Parkinson sniffed and turned to Bulstrode.
Harry went back to his plate.
He could feel Nott's gaze burning onto the side of his head.
"So," drawled Nott. "Potter. How do you feel about it?"
"What?"
Nott gazed at him coolly.
"Joining us snakes."
Harry's throat closed up. What was he meant to say? That he was fine with it? That obviously wasn't true, he'd much rather be in Gryffindor tower. But...
"I don't mind too much," Harry said. "I mean, yeah it's a bit different,"
Bulstrode snorted.
"A bit?" She asked sceptically. It might have been the first time she'd addressed him all.morning.
"More than a bit," Harry amended. "But it's not like I've got much of a choice have I? Might as well make the most of it."
There was a lot Harry didn't say. Harry didn't say that he was terrified, that he would put silencing charms and shield charms all around his bed every night. Harry didn't say that his dreams had been plagued by the graveyard and the knowledge that the children of Voldemorts followers nearby as he slept had him tossing and turning all night. He didn't mention that the thought of Ron and Hermione in Gryffindor tower made a tight ball of jealousy curl in his stomach.
He was there for a reason, and he had to try and show them that they had options. And he couldn't do that if they thought he hated them.
Nott's eyes were cold and sharp, unreadable.
Harry felt his ears burn at their stares. He looked away, out into the crowds of students around them. The hall had filled up now, and the glances his way were nothing if not conspicuous. And then his eyes caught hold of blonde hair, a pointed face. Malfoy.
"Right," Harry said. "See you in History,"
He gathered his bag, stuffing his timetable into the side pocket and made his way out the hall. He felt Notts stare again at the back of his head and just about caught Malfoy's incredulous, "Was that Potter?" before he ducked out of the hall.
He'd wandered Hogwarts aimlessly, walking without any particular destination in mind. Eventually, he'd realised he was at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the Owlery and had the flash of inspiration to write to Sirius - only to hesitate. Did he already know? Had he known all along? No, Sirius wouldn't hide something so large from him, not when he himself knew what it was like to be trapped.
With new resolve, Harry dug out a stained bit of parchment and started to write.
