The Silver Trio – Welcome to the Snake's Pit

A/N: First of all, a really big thanks to everyone who favorited, follows or reviewed this story. I truly appreciate it :D You guys are awesome!

Disclaimer: I unfortunately still don't own Harry Potter, the Prefect's speech, along with several other things were taken from Pottermore or the books themselves although I have altered it a bit and added some things.


A tall and old man rose from the staff's table. Harry recognized him from one of the chocolate frog cards: Albus Dumbledore.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

He sat down. Everybody clapped and cheered, although some of the Slytherins, Harry noticed, did this rather unwillingly.

"Is he – a bit mad?" he asked to no one in particular.

"Mad? The old fool has gone senile. My father always says that he is the worst thing that has ever happened to Hogwarts," Malfoy sneered. His two lackeys snickered at his words.

Harry frowned at that. He was just about to argue but Ron bet him to it. "Don't you dare insult Dumbledore, you git! He is far better than you or your Death Eater father can ever hope to be!"

Malfoy narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to make a sneaky remark but was stopped by a tall, thin and a bit weakly built boy who sat next to him.

"Why not postpone that quarrel of yours for later? Some are trying to eat here, if you aren't aware of that."

Malfoy simply sneered but said nothing and began to eat the food which seemed to have appeared out of thin air. Ron was trying his best not to snicker, he'd rather starve for a week than find a Slytherin's remark funny even if it was at the expense of bloody Malfoy.

As all the others had already started to eat, Harry didn't see a reason why he shouldn't follow their example and also started to eat. It was delicious, far better than anything the Dursleys had ever given him.

He was just about to take a big bite out of a very tasty-looking roast beef as he suddenly felt a shiver ran down his spine and it seemed that he wasn't the only one who did so. The cause of it was very soon revealed. To his great shock, he saw a horrible ghost sitting next to Malfoy, who at this point looked as pale as the ghost. The ghost had a gaunt face with blank staring eyes and robes stained with silver blood which, Harry assumed, gave him his name.

"How did you get covered in blood?" Ron asked bluntly, looking at the ghost curiously. However, the curiosity was soon replaced with fear as the ghost stared darkly at him and said in a deep and cold voice: "I prefer not to talk about it and if you are wise, you'll never ask me that again, little snake."

The red-haired boy quickly nodded and promised in a shaking voice that he'd never dare to do that again, in his fear seemingly forgetting to appear offended by the address; the Bloody Baron seemed content with the answer.

The Slytherins soon began to talk after the food had vanished again, they talked about their holidays, about school and about their friends and families.

Harry suddenly felt a great sadness rushing over him, caused by all the people around him talking about their families. He had never had the choice to meet his family, Dursleys aside. Trying to put his mind to nicer topics, he tried to start a talk with Ron but it failed as the boy was still very upset about his Sorting.

But then he noticed that Hermione who was sitting next to him also seemed to be a little out of place too, what with her constantly looking at the other Slytherins and seemingly struggling to say anything at all.

"Hermione, was it?"

Said girl turned to him, surprised that actually someone wanted to talk with her. "Yes, I am and you are Harry Potter, I have already read everything about-"

"You have already mentioned it," Harry tried his best not to sound too harsh but he couldn't help himself but feel slightly annoyed with people making such a big fuss about him. Really he was just like them, an ordinary child, well, as ordinary as you could be if you could do magic.

"Oh," Hermione flushed, she obviously had recognized that this was Harry's sore point. "Anyway," she quickly changed the topic. "What are you looking most forward to?"

But before he could even open his mouth to reply, she had already gone on.

"I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult-"

"Well, we will start with the very easy stuff first so there is no need to worry yourself about it," the boy from before butted in. "I think I haven't introduced myself before, I'm Theodore Nott."

Although his words were directed at Hermione he pointedly looked at Harry, especially when he introduced himself. Harry felt unnerved by the again calculating look Nott gave him. Hermione didn't notice though.

She practically beamed as she introduced herself too, happy that she could finally talk with some of her other housemates. "I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger."

Nott nodded before he raised one of his eyebrows. "Granger?" he repeated. "Haven't heard the name before. What kind of wizarding family is it?"

That can't go well, Harry thought to himself, although it could be only his imagination, he felt that the tension at that part of the table they were seated at had raised. Even Ron looked up, viewing Hermione with something akin to pity as if he knew what was going to happen to her.

"I, I am," inwardly she chided herself for the small stumble in the beginning. "My parents are Muggles, if that is what you want to know," mentally preparing herself for the jeers which were sure to follow after her admission of her true origin, not like she could have hidden this fact forever.

Unfortunately she hadn't had to wait long for a response which Malfoy kindly decided to offer. "A Mudblood sitting here at this very table, the table only worthy Pureblood," he snarled, putting the emphasis on the last word,"wizards are allowed to sit at. Thank Merlin that I haven't eaten too much otherwise I might have to gag."

Before a full-fledged argument could break out as not only Harry felt the need to intervene, Ron looked very quarrelsome too, the headmaster Dumbledore rose yet again, without most likely even his intention, interrupting the beginning of a very fierce-looking argument.

"Ahem-just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered." Ron gave a disgruntled groan at the headmaster's words as he had been too occupied with the coping of his feelings, caused by the Sorting, to actually even eat something. Harry pitied him, it had been a long day and before dinner he had been starving a lot even though he was used to not having much to eat. He could imagine how horrible it had to be to go to bed on an empty stomach after a long and tiring day. And he felt a bit guilty now that he had not thought of keeping something for Ron to eat later.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." His unusual twinkling eyes wandered to the Gryffindor table, to whom he exactly was looking Harry wasn't quite sure of, although the huge grins plastered on the Weasley's twins indicated that he probably especially meant them.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch."

At the mention of 'Quidditch' Malfoy proudly stuck his chest out, earning a few admiring looks from a hard-faced girl sitting next to him, even Ron's expression brightened considerably up. Hermione though frowned at the boys' reactions. "But I thought that first years weren't allowed to take brooms with them," she whispered to Harry who only shrugged in response.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry laughed but he was one of the few exceptions. At the lack of laughter he quickly ceased his too. "He's not serious, is he?"

A tall (Harry absently wondered why every boy he met seemed to be so big or was he just that small), dark-skinned boy with high cheekbones and long, slanting eyes that made Harry feel a little bit cold, answered him, a big sneer placed on his face as he did so. "Why do you not check for yourself? If what the old fool has said is right, we might have one less imbecile to deal with." Malfoy's smirk had grown very big at that point. Deciding that he didn't want to give the boy even more opportunities to insult him, Harry kept his silence, deeming the remark not worthy of an answer.

The dark-skinned boy narrowed his eyes at the lack of reaction but turned when Dumbledore addressed them again. "And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Several of the Slytherins rolled their eyes at the headmaster's announcement, some were shooting him incredulous looks that seemed to question the old man's sanity and another few, mostly the older ones, even groaned.

Dumbledore, either ignorant of certain students' and it seemed even some of the teachers' unwillingness to sing the apparently terrible school song or was simply unfazed by that fact, waved his wand, making words appear which must be the text to the song.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune and off we go!" he cheerily said.

All of them sang the song, which in Harry's eyes seemed to be a bit ridiculous but thought it nevertheless funny to sing, at different paces. The Weasley twins were singing the song in a very slow speed, being the last to finish the song. When they had finished many applauded them, Dumbledore being among of them but none of the Slytherins followed his example and looked rather relieved that the torture was finally over.

"Ah, music," Dumbledore said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

An older girl indicated the first years to follow her. She led them through the crowds of students and out of the Great Hall to what she called the Dungeons which must be under the school given that they had descended a remarkable amount of stone steps and that the temperature had dropped a lot. They went through many labyrinthine passages and seemed to go even deeper under the school. Tired, Harry wondered when they were finally going to arrive.

Suddenly the girl came to a halt just before a stone wall which looked just like any other, making the students behind her stopping abruptly. "Runespoor," she said in a clear voice, ignoring the questions. Before Harry could even wonder what that was supposed to mean, a stone door hidden in the wall slid open and to Harry's great surprise revealed a large room, the Slytherin's common room.

Along with the others, although judging by Ron's expression he did that with great reluctance, he entered the common room.

The first thing which crossed Harry's mind upon seeing the long and low underground room was that it somehow reminded him of a mysterious, underwater shipwreck but it still made the impression of being cozy despite its similarity of a dungeon (maybe because it was a part of the dungeons) with its rough stone walls and ceilings.

It was lit by round, greenish lamps hanging on chains, the light from the windows also radiated for whatever reason green light, giving the room a green tinge. It had lots of low backed black and dark green leather sofas with buttons and chairs, some little elegant-looking dark wood tables and another small, round and green table on which two candles stood, right next to the fireplace.

A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece, on it several skulls of, for Harry unknown, creatures and on the wand, right above the chimney, hung a big crest of a stoned snake, having an emerald as its eye. Strangely, Harry had the urge to actually talk to it but brushed it off, directing his attention to the girl who was about to give them a speech.

"Congratulations! I'm Prefect Gemma Farley, and I'm delighted to welcome you to the Slytherin House. Our emblem is the serpent, the wisest of creatures; our house colors are emerald green and silver, and our common room lies behind a concealed entrance down in the dungeons. As you'll see, its windows look out into the depths of the Hogwarts Lake. We often see the giant squid swooshing by – and sometimes more interesting creatures. We like to feel that our hangout has the aura of a mysterious, underwater shipwreck."

Harry smiled, so he was not the only one who had thought so. Even Ron looked awed at the fact that they were currently under the Hogwarts Lake and observed the windows as though he was hoping to spot the giant squid.

"Now, there are a few things you should know about Slytherin – and a few you should forget. Firstly, let's dispel a few myths. You might have heard rumors about the Slytherin house – that we're all into the Dark Arts, and will only talk to you if your great-grandfather was a famous wizard and rubbish like that. Well, you don't want to believe everything you hear from competing houses. I'm not denying that we've produced our share of Dark wizards, but so have the other three houses – they just don't like admitting it. And yes, we have traditionally tended to take students who come from long lines of witches and wizards, but nowadays you'll find plenty of people in Slytherin house who have at least one Muggle parent."

At that, Farley gave Hermione a small, encouraging smile which she hesitantly returned. While she was relieved that not all of the Slytherins seemed to harbor a grudge against non-Pureblood wizards, she still had her worries. Her housemates with whom she was in the same year did seem to mind about blood status as she had been already insulted because of that and no one, except Harry and Ron, felt inclined to say anything against the offending remarks. A sigh nearly escaped from her mouth, why was it so difficult to just get along with her fellow housemates?

Ron barely managed to restrain himself from snorting in disbelief. Sure! Slytherins loved Muggleborns which was clearly shown by Hermione's enthusiastic greeting. There was no better welcome than getting some insults thrown at your face. And Slytherins not being totally into Dark magic? Of course as not nearly every single damn of them was a child of a bloody Death Eater whose crimes he had been often told and just listening to that sickness, twistedness and evilness of what they had done made him want to puke, throw some curses at those slimy Slytherins or just leave as much distance as possible between them, preferably the last two ones.

The Prefect who did not notice the distress of the two Slytherins simply went on with her speech.

"Here's a little-known fact that the other three houses don't bring up much: Merlin was a Slytherin. " Harry who had already heard about him in some books and films did not know or expected that he really existed which by now should really be no surprise. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ron whose mouth was wide open in surprise and Hermione looking even more excited than she had already been. Either that Merlin guy was really famous or the fact that he had been in Slytherin must be a really big secret, maybe even both.

"Yes, Merlin himself, the most famous wizard in history! He learned all he knew in this very house! Do you want to follow in the footsteps of Merlin? Or would you rather sit at the old desk of that illustrious ex-Hufflepuff, Eglantine Puffett, inventor of the Self-Soaping Dishcloth?" she asked rhetorically.

"I don't think so. But that's enough about what we're not. Let's talk about what we are, which is the coolest and edgiest house in this school. We play to win, because we care about the honor and traditions of Slytherin.

"We also get respect from our fellow students. Yes, some of that respect might be tinged with fear, because of our Dark reputation, but you know what? It can be fun, having a reputation for walking on the wild side. Chuck out a few hints that you've got access to a whole library of curses, and see whether anyone feels like nicking your pencil case.

"But we're not bad people. We're like our emblem, the snake: sleek, powerful, and frequently misunderstood."

Again it took Ron nearly every part of his willpower to not let any of his disbelief be shown. Was that girl now saying that they should be pitied for being constantly 'misunderstood' and that they were in fact not evil after revealing that it was great fun to scare the hell out of other people by threating with Dark curses? Merlin, (he tried his best to forget for the moment that Merlin was supposedly a Slytherin) how weird and twisted was that girl?

"For instance, we Slytherins look after our own – which is more than you can say for Ravenclaw. Apart from being the biggest bunch of swots you ever met, Ravenclaws are famous for clambering over each other to get good marks, whereas we Slytherins are brothers. The corridors of Hogwarts can throw up surprises for the unwary, and you'll be glad you've got the Serpents on your side as you move around the school. As far as we're concerned, once you've become a snake, you're one of ours – one of the elite."

"Because you know what Salazar Slytherin looked for in his chosen students? The seeds of greatness. You've been chosen by this house because you've got the potential to be great, in the true sense of the word. All right, you might see a couple of people hanging around the common room whom you might not think are destined for anything special. Well, keep that to yourself. If the Sorting Hat put them in here, there's something great about them, and don't you forget it.

"And talking of people who aren't destined for greatness, I haven't mentioned the Gryffindors. Now, a lot of people say that Slytherins and Gryffindors represent two sides of the same coin. Personally, I think Gryffindors are nothing more than wannabe Slytherins. Mind you, some people say that Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor prized the same kinds of students, so perhaps we are more similar than we like to think. But that doesn't mean that we cozy up with Gryffindors. They like beating us only slightly less than we like beating them."

Why had he been not Sorted into Gryffindor so he could enjoy beating the Slytherins, Ron thought miserably.

"A few more things you might need to know: our house ghost is the Bloody Baron. If you get on the right side of him he'll sometimes agree to frighten people for you. Just don't ask him how he got bloodstained; he doesn't like it. As perhaps the one or two might have noticed." At that she gave Ron a not so subtle glance which in response made Ron flush, his ears as red as his hair

"The password to the common room changes every fortnight. Keep an eye on the noticeboard. Never bring anyone from another house into our common room or tell them our password. No outsider has entered it for more than seven centuries.

"Well, I think that's all for now. I'm sure you'll like our dormitories. We sleep in ancient four-posters with green silk hangings, and bedspreads embroidered with silver thread. Medieval tapestries depicting the adventures of famous Slytherins cover the walls, and silver lanterns hang from the ceilings. You'll sleep well; it's very soothing, listening to the lake water lapping against the windows at night."

A little smirk appeared on her mouth as she finished her speech with the words: "And with this said, welcome to the snake's pit."

o.O.o

The Prefect, Genma Farley, showed them the way to the girls' dormitories and left but not before giving them a last smirk, accompanied with the words: "You'll find it rather amusing if one of the boys decides to show up here."

The dormitories were just like Farley had described them, medieval tapestries which by closer observing were acting like magical portraits and therefor did not simply depict the adventures of those famous Slytherins but showed them in a way which greatly resembled Muggle movies. Well, at least there is something I can occupy myself with if I can't sleep and for whatever reason not able or willing to read a book, Hermione mused. To her surprise the trunks were already brought up. She quickly went to the bed where her trunk had been placed and after changing into her pajamas she was ready to simply drop on her very elegant looking bed, when an annoyingly high voice decided to make its appearance.

"So it is true that Muggles only wear rags. I mean, look at those awful pieces of clothing you wear. I didn't know it was possible to make you look even more uglier, seems I was wrong," the girl, Hermione remembered that her name was Pansy Parkinson, shrieked, her eyes gleaming with malice at the prospect of making fun of her.

On the outside her face remained carefully blank, bare of any emotions which might have betrayed what she was really feeling. She did not want to give Parkinson the satisfaction that she had managed to achieve her goal. To hurt Hermione.

Why she was, she had no idea, it was not as though she hadn't had to endure similar behavior towards her before. Perhaps, she had thought it would change, that that new world, that world full of magic and many other wonders would not only offer her new knowledge and abilities she had yet to master, no she had also thought, hoped, that with that new restart in a wholly new world, it would also give her the opportunity to actually make real friends.

Now with her being insulted by that girl for no apparent reason, other than the fact that her parents were not wizards, something which in all honesty was something she could not change or be blamed with, a female version of Malfoy's lackeys snickering at her remark and none of the other girls making any efforts to intervene, she could nearly see how that little faint hope somewhere deep inside her was crushed with those words. Even if that world was a world of wonder, it could not let that one miracle happen, the miracle of her having friends. She hadn't felt that disappointed for a long time.

When she could feel her eyes becoming moisty, she quickly tried to blink the tears away which were threating to roll down her cheeks. It was ridiculous how strongly those petty words affected her, it usually took a lot more to make her that upset. But the topic of friendship had always been her sore point and would undoubtedly remain to be hers.

I will definitely prove them then that Muggleborns are as good as everyone else. Those words which she had once said to the hat before it had put her into this misery echoed in her mind. With angry determination, she straightened herself up, walked to Parkinson so that she was only inches away from her face which looked surprised at that reaction and made herself bigger, more of a threat.

"It seems that though you wear rather decent clothing," she eyed Parkinson's very expensive-looking night robes with distaste. "You still look as ugly as ever. Unfortunately even the best clothing, make-up and jewelry won't change the fact that you are as attractive as a lovechild of a gorilla and pig!"

How she came up with that insult was beyond her, she couldn't recall ever being called something like that but at that moment she did not care. With sick amusement, she saw Parkinson's face contort with anger and…pain?

The little bulb of guilt which built up inside her was quickly squashed when she saw that Parkinson's hand moved, either to grab her wand and curse Hermione (although they hadn't have any magical lessons before, it was very likely that Parkinson might have been introduced to some nasty spells by her family) or slap her in her face. Both of the alternatives were not very appealing to her.

It seemed that the other girls with whom she shared the dormitory with didn't find the thought of a fight right now very appealing either. Daphne Greengrass, a beautiful girl with curly and long chocolate brown hair, put a hand on Parkinson's shoulder in a calming manner. "You have enough opportunities to pay her back later, just let the matter rest for now."

Reluctantly, Parkinson nodded and turned, followed by Greengrass, to go to bed. She did so, however, not before shooting Hermione a last hateful glare which she returned with a cold look. It seemed that she had just made herself an archenemy for her entire life (or school life, if she was lucky) but frankly she did not care.

As though nothing or no one had interrupted her, she made herself ready for bed. But again before she could bury her head inside the soft pillow, yet another girl approached her.

She had short, blond hair and big and brown eyes which made her look innocent. But Hermione knew that appearances were deceiving. "I am Tracey Davis," the girl said in a quiet voice, extending her hand.

It was mere reflex, a result of her parents' constant reminder of the value of politeness, that she took the hand and shook it. It was politeness too that made her smile, despite the fact that right now that was the last thing she wanted to do and replied in an equally quiet voice: "I am Hermione Granger."

"I know. It isn't every day that a Muggleborn is Sorted into Slytherin." She lowered her voice even further, making Hermione lean to her even closer to comprehend the following words." By the way I am a half-blood and I can assure you that I am not a so-called Pureblood Supremacist. Would be pretty hypocritical of me, wouldn't it?"

Hermione frowned. "You didn't seem to have though anything against other people insulting me because of my origin," she said, not fully managing to keep the accusation from her voice. At that, Davis looked very uncomfortable.

"You see," Davis began, shifting her feet nervously and was now constantly shooting glances back to the three other girls who were now occupied with gossiping about their housemates.

"That Blaise Zabini looks really handsome, doesn't he? He must have inherited his parents' good looks," Parkinson excitedly said.

"How do you know? His mother is really famous for her beauty but that doesn't mean that his father must be," the female version of Malfoy's minions who, Hermione remembered, was called Milicent Bulstrode asked.

"Well, if she is that beautiful, surely she would get herself an equally good-looking man," Parkinson said in a tone which suggested that what she had said was obvious. "But funny thing is that her men, she is currently dating her fourth, have all died, each of them leaving a small fortune for her. Must be a nice way to live, I would certainly enjoy it," she laughed in which Bulstrode quickly joined in.

Disgusted, Hermione directed her attention back to Davis who had been eyeing the girl with wariness and slight distaste too, and continued as she noticed that Hermione was waiting for her to go on.

"The Parkinsons and Malfoys are really influential in the Wizard world, especially the latter and if you mess with them, it will backfire on you. My father is working for the Ministry of Magic, you know," she added as though it would explain everything which it actually did.

It was terrible to discover how much power and influence horrible people like the families of Malfoy's and Parkinson's seemed to have to be able to let an innocent man lose his job just on a whim.

"I understand."

Davis, no, Tracey looked very relieved, her lips forming into a very wide grin. "I'm glad that you understand. Now with this cleared, how about becoming friends? I'd rather eat earwax-tasting Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans than ever being friends with pug-faced Parkinson." The last words were said in a whisper.

Hermione hesitated a bit, barely believing that it was actually happening. "Sure."

As both of them were very tired, the other girls being no exception as they too made themselves ready for bed, after being tired of talking, few words were exchanged. Hermione let herself plump down ungracefully on the bed, in a matter of seconds she could feel her eyes closing, a small smile on her lips as she slowly descended into the realms of dreams.

A last happy thought lingering on her mind.

I have made a friend.

o.O.o

Unlike Hermione, Ron's and Harry's evening went on with no further incidents. Both of them were so tired that they barely managed to pull on their pajamas before they fell into their beds, the other boys too seemed too tired to let any snide remarks lose.

"Get off, Scabbers!" Ron angrily muttered to the rat which was chewing his sheets and preventing him to sleep. Finally, when the annoying rat left, he closed his eyes, waiting for the sleep to come. It had been a very terrible day and maybe if he opened his eyes again, he'd find himself back in the Burrow again, eagerly preparing himself for his first day at Hogwarts.

At the thought of the Burrow, his home, he felt dread freezing his insides. His brothers' reaction had been bad enough but what would his parents' be? He could see his parents' disappointed faces, the hope of ever making his parents, especially his mum, proud of him seemed to be a million miles away. Because everything notable he did as a Slytherin was something to be ashamed of.

He blamed it on the lack of food in his stomach for having this bizarre nightmare. A nightmare in which his mum told his little sister, Ginny, to stay away from him, saying that he might do nasty things to her. His father looking at him very angry, which was unusual in itself, demanding to know why he had allied himself with Malfoy.

And a green-silver snake watching it all, hissing which disturbingly reminded Ron greatly of laughter und for an unknown reason he could understand what it was saying.

You wanted it. You wanted it. Look at how great you are!

It was one of Ron's worse dreams.

Harry blamed it on his full stomach for having that strange dream. Dudley and his gang were laughing at him, saying that he was not a wizard and therefor had to return back home. They laughed even harder at Harry's horrified expression. Dudley and his gang transformed into Malfoy and the other Slytherins who demanded to know why someone as idiotic as him was in Slytherin. The big snake was agreeing with them, laughing a cold and high laughter at the sight of Harry being pushed around by the Slytherins who kept on asking why he was here.

And suddenly there was a burst of green light. Harry woke, sweating and shaking.

Just a dream, just a dream, he kept telling himself until he drifted off to sleep again.

He didn't remember the dream at all the next morning.

A/N: For those who are wondering if the password has any meaning, the Runespoor is, according to Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, a three-headed snake, with each of its head having its own personality. It used to be a favorite pet of Dark wizards due to its striking and intimidating appearance.

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