Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Labyrinth, this is for fun.
Certain small sections have been taken directly from Hp&tSS chapters The Sorting Hat and The Potions Master, notably Dumbledore's speech after diner, and Snape's speech and some of the questions to the potions class.
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Harry grinned, pleased to be able to decide his own fate, Where will I be safest?
The hat responded readily, "Many of the fallen Dark Lord's closest followers were Slytherin. You may have difficulties with their children in that house. But your head of house, Severus, is sworn thrice fold to protect you."
Is he the goblin? Harry asked, interested.
"No. That is Filius, the head of Ravenclaw. Severus is the other teacher you noticed."
Ah, the man who had been staring at him so fixedly, You don't think Filius would protect me too?
The hat's tone was contemplative, "I am unsure if Filius's loyalties to his grandfather's world would win out if Albus gave a competing order. And Severus is uniquely motivated to protect you. I cannot say anymore about it."
He didn't need to though, Harry knew that one assured champion was better than the possibility of more. As the Wiseman said, one hat on head is better than two in the closet. Slytherin then.
The hat did not hesitate, and shouted for the entire hall to hear, "Slytherin!"
Thank you. Harry thought.
The hat chuckled again, privately, "Thank you young prince. It has been the most interesting sorting in quite some time."
Harry pulled the hat off, finally, and found himself the subject of a thousand eyes. Though he had not quite been paying attention during other sortings, he was pretty sure he was supposed to be met with some kind of applause. Was he supposed to start it?
As he stood he handed the hat to McGonagall, and another question occurred to him. He didn't remember which table Slytherin was supposed to be. He cast an inquiring look back towards the hat, which chuckled again, "Green and silver my boy."
Harry smiled his thanks and headed to the table with the green and silver finishes. There was only one spot open at the very end, and no one seemed inclined to move, still busy staring at him. He sat just as the hat broke the silence again, "Well, there are four more students waiting, are there not?"
McGonagall cleared her throat, finally tearing her eyes away from Harry to call up the next student. The hall had recovered enough by the last two students to clap again, though it was quiet and hesitant. Harry noticed though, that no one went more than a few moments without shooting him a wary look. It was if they were expecting him to do something odd or dangerous right there at dinner.
Harry, who had been accepted and loved his entire life, found the nearly palpable sensation of distrust to be extremely odd. Subtly, under the table, he kicked off his shoe so he could rub his foot against one of the stones on the floor. It purred comfortingly under the caress, and Harry felt his shoulders relax a bit.
As soon as the sorting was over McGonagall rolled up her scroll and picked up the hat. There was silence for a moment before Dumbledore stood, opening his arms wide to the hall, "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." And he sat back down.
Harry was strongly reminded of his father, and some of the speeches he gave to the goblins. A twist of homesickness shot through him, and he pressed his foot even harder against the stone under him. He was distracted nearly immediately by the sudden appearance of food on the golden plates on the table. There were only a few recognizable things, and Harry frowned as he selected things carefully. He was pleasantly surprised to find that the roast chicken tasted nearly the same, but unpleasantly surprised to discover that one of the slightly curved gray cylinders turned out to not be desert root, but rather an oddly spiced meat thing.
Just as he was carefully picking out seconds of the chicken there was an odd commotion further down the table. Its cause became clear when the blonde boy from before pushed someone out of the way to take the seat directly across from Harry. "Harry Potter, in Slytherin."
Harry was unsure how to respond to that rather obvious statement. He wondered a little at the Above tendency to repeat the obvious at every opportunity. The tradition of commenting on the weather particularly was strange. Choosing not to reply he continued to chew on his chicken. He'd made the mistake of trying the odd orange drink, and now needed something to overcome the gross slimy-cold flavor of whatever it was.
Draco was undaunted by Harry's silence, "I must say I was expecting the great Harry Potter to shun us evil Slytherins right away."
Harry blinked in surprise, "You don't seem evil to me. Rude of course, but not evil."
Draco's face twisted at this statement, and a few of the older students around them smiled a little, "I am not rude." He insisted, hotly.
Harry gave him a look. Sarah had assured him that the rules of manners were much the same Above as Below, with the exception of shaking hands and the rules about when and when not to sing. "You just shoved that boy aside without excusing yourself or asking him to move." Draco looked at the boy he had shoved aside, clearly unsure why he should care. "That's rude." Harry explained, patiently. Maybe that's why the Above people were constantly repeating obvious things, it took it a while to sink in.
"Blaise doesn't care. Do you Blaise?" Blaise just raised an eyebrow at Draco and continued eating.
Draco opened his mouth, clearly annoyed, but was interrupted by Dumbledore getting to his feet.
"Ahern - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. 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." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Gryffindor table. "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. 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."
There were a few strangled laughs at this last bit, but Harry didn't see what was funny about a death threat.
"Absolutely mad." Draco said, sounding a little faint. Harry looked at him. There were two spots of color high in his pale cheeks.
A couple seats down an older boy who'd introduced himself as Marcus shook his head, "Bets on when the Weasley twins end up dead?"
Around them the rest of the hall had started singing the Hogwarts song. A few of the Slytherins hummed a few bars, but none of them looked very interested. Harry, who loved music more that almost anything, was put off by the competing tunes. It wasn't so much music as a cacophony of noise. Instead he watched as money exchanged hands, people betting on when the Weasley twins would go up to the third floor against advice. Some put money on them dying altogether, while most were leaning towards some kind of injury. None of the first years put anything, and no one in Slytherin seemed to think that Dumbledore's warning was anything but stark truth."Who're the Weasley twins?" Harry asked.
Marcus jerked his thumb over to the Gryffindor table, "See that mass of red-heads? That's the Weasley family. Percy's a prefect this year, which is going to be a pain in the ass, the boy is married to rules. The twins are in third year, and they're pranksters. Most of it is against the teachers or other Gryffindors, which is fine. Last year they turned Higgs's hair red after he beat them in the Quidditch final. It was some good spell work."
Harry smiled, looking over to the two identical redheads, who were enthusiastically singing the school song at a slow deep tempo. Harry had had a few prank wars with some of the Goblins Below, but he was not very good at it. Sometimes they seemed too mean to him. When he'd been about nine one of the goblin women had been driven to sobs when her friend had hidden her favorite cannonball by the bog and it had accidently rolled in. It had soured him on any of the following prank wars. However, he had nothing against people having a little honest fun.
The twins in question finally finished singing and Dumbledore released them all to their beds. The Slytherin prefect stood, introduced herself as Gemma Farley, and called for the first years. Once they were all together, she led them out of the hall as a group. The yellow and black group followed close with them for a bit, before taking an abrupt left down a brightly lit hallway. The Slytherins continued down to a wide set of stairs. "This is the main stair into the dungeon." Gemma explained as they made their way down, "There are many other ways down, but this is the closest to the Great Hall and it will probably be the one you use most often."
As they descended it got steadily chillier, and the rocks rose faster under his feet, nudging him playfully. He stepped down on them firmly, chiding them about staying still. The wizards were trusting them to hold this castle up after all. It would be rude to go anywhere else. Most of them were happy enough with their assigned positions and readily settled back into place, but a couple grumbled about things stuck in their cracks. Harry gently nudged those ones with his toe, assuring them he'd be back later.
Harry was growing used to the feeling of being stared at, so he didn't notice the way people were looking at his odd movements down the hall. Gemma ignored him completely as she continued to tell them about the dungeons, "You will get quite used to the way the dungeons are laid out, not only our common room but potions class and Professor Snape's office are down here. Professor Snape is our Head of House, and will be your advocate in all disciplinary matters." They took a few odd turns. Harry, with his experience in the labyrinth, easily committed the route to memory. They arrived at a blank expanse of wall, and Gemma motioned them to ring around her. "This is the entrance to the Slytherin common room. If you look behind you, you can see the snake shaped sconce on the wall. There is only one like it in the dungeons, and that is it. It is the easiest way to make sure you are trying to get into the correct wall." She smirked a little at that, "The password will stay the same for the first month of the semester, after that it will change every two weeks. It is your responsibility to keep track of the password. For now it is, Many Doubt."
The wall collapsed quickly into a passageway, and Gemma led them through to the common room. It was warmer in here, with a blazing fire and comfortable looking couches. Though they were clearly underground there were large leaded glass windows that peered out into the depths of the lake. Gemma motioned them to the couches, and Harry took a seat on the floor itself, absentmindedly comforting a grumbling rock by picking a sickle out from between it and the rock next to it.
Gemma continued her speech casually, "For those of you who are Muggle born or Muggle raised, it will soon become apparent that Slytherin house is the most vilified and distrusted at Hogwarts. There is no use complaining that it is unfair. Things are not fair. You must get used to this as soon as you can." Harry finally pried the sickle loose, and thought that Gemma would be very good at the labyrinth.
"And yes," she said, voice suddenly hard, "we are aware that some of you are Muggle born or Muggle raised. Though the rest of the school is happy to stick to their convictions that no Muggleborns could possibly be sly or cunning, there are always a few in our house. While inside the dorms you will act civilly and politely to each other, regardless of birth or your personal beliefs, or you will find your stay unpleasant. Outside the dorms you may act within your personal beliefs as long as your distaste is not directed at any fellow Slytherins." Gemma crossed her arms, meeting each of their eyes individually. "We have enough problems with the rest of the school being against us, there will be no fighting in-house. It will simply not be tolerated. And yes, that includes our most surprising new member." Gemma turned her attention to Harry then, narrowing her eyes a bit, "Do you understand the rules?"
Harry grinned, and flipped the silver coin through the air, catching it on its descent, "Yes ma'am."
Gemma held his eyes for a moment, before looking towards each of the other students in turn, they each mumbled their acceptance. "Good. If you have any problems contact me or any of the other prefects. There are six of us. Myself and Edward are the fifth year prefects, Eric and Melissa are the sixth year. Grant and Melody are graduating in the spring and will be attempting to focus on their NEWTS. They should be your last resort. Professor Snape makes himself readily available to any Slytherins with concerns. Someone will show you where his office is in the morning." Gemma seemed to relax a little, unfolding her arms to straighten her robes. "Now, unless you have any questions, the boys dorms are directly behind you, the room will have your year on it. And the girls can follow me."
No one had any questions, so the two groups of students moved off to their dorms. The six boys were pleasantly surprised at the comfortable beds behind the door. The dorms seemed to be in a shallower part of the lake, so even more light streamed in, lighting everything with a calming green. Everyone's trunk was already at the foot of their beds, and Harry quickly threw his open, grabbing for some paper and a quill. He already had so much stuff to tell his parents!
The other boys moved a bit slower, but did much the same. The boy next to Harry finished his letter first and gathered some bathroom supplies and went to the attached bath. Harry finished his letter only a moment after, and quickly locked it back in his trunk, grabbing his bathroom stuff as he did.
The bathroom was set up with a few shower stalls, and three similar toilet stalls. Harry, used to his own palatial bathroom, could not help but wrinkle his nose a little at the idea of sharing the space with five other wizards. He felt bad about it, but he would really miss the ability to take a bath!
The other boy caught his look in the mirror and laughed, "Yeah. I guess it's still a boarding school, even if it's in a castle."
Harry half smiled sheepishly, "I'm sure it'll be fine." He considered the tiny space, which already felt crowded with only the two of them, "Maybe."
The boy snorted, and offered his hand, "Theo Nott. Nice to meet you." Harry reached out to shake, and the boy immediately clamped his other hand over their joined hands, moving them up and down only once before letting go, "Like this. Not so enthusiastic."
Harry raised his eyebrows, "Ah. How strange."
Theo smirked a bit, "It's things like that that are going to make everyone very interested in where Dumbledore secreted you away."
Harry grimaced, "Am I sticking out?"
Theo laughed, "You could say that. Even if people weren't already going to be following your every move they would be now." Harry frowned, trying not to pout. What had he done that was so odd? Theo seemed to read his mind and smirked, "You left your shoes in the Great Hall."
Harry smiled sheepishly, looking down at his bare feet, "Oops."
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The next morning classes started in earnest. As promised Edward, the other fifth year prefect, showed them how to get from the common room to Professor Snape's office. He then let them make their way back to the Great Hall on their own. Harry moved confidently through the twisting nearly featureless hallways of the dungeons, and Theo tagged along behind him as Draco and the others went down another corridor. Draco insisted to the others it was a shortcut his father had told him about, but Harry knew better than to trust a shortcut he didn't know.
They were the first of the first years to make it back to breakfast. Gemma gave them a small smile, as did some of the other students. Breakfast was alright, except Harry again had to deal with trying to guess which Above food would be good enough to eat. The absence of breakfast cabbage left him completely confused. He settled for putting the same things on his plate that Theo did, but in smaller portions in case they were as gross as the juice he'd had last night.
The odd wavy cut pink strips turned out to be amazing. But the brown aromatic drink that Theo poured himself was like licking a goblin's foot! Harry instantly put that into the 'Never-Touch-Again' pile. The mass of squishy yellow stuff turned out to be extremely similar to the inner yolk of a breakfast cabbage. He devoured two helpings of that along with plenty of the strips of what he learned was called bacon. He resolved to add a postscript to his letter asking Sarah to send him some information on Above food. This was just weird!
Halfway through breakfast Draco and the other boys arrived, looking disheveled. Draco threw him a nasty look but Harry knew he hadn't done anything wrong. It wasn't his fault Draco wouldn't listen to him about the so called shortcut. Professor Snape came around then to hand out the class schedules.
Harry studied his schedule to figure out where they would be going today. "Do you know where any of these places are?" Harry asked Theo. Maybe wizarding children were given maps of some kind?
Theo grimaced, and shook his head, "Not a clue. Ah dam, we don't get Potions until Friday!"
Harry, who had been concentrating on one day at a time, looked down at his schedule to confirm. It was too bad it was so far off, from what he'd read Potions was going to be his favorite class. Unless Defense Against the Dark Arts turned out to be much much better than the textbooks would lead one to believe. Across the table Draco was pushing the other two boys – Harry had overheard their names were Vince and Greg when they'd been arguing about how to get to breakfast. The three of them stood together and made their way out of the hall quickly. Harry, remembering what Gemma had said the night before, quickly went to her, "Excuse me? Can you help us find our classes?"
She and the other fifth years she was sitting with seemed caught off guard by the question, but she readily took his schedule, and made some notes along the back. "I don't have time to take you all the way up to the Charms corridor, I have to get up to Divination. Try to follow these directions and you should be alright. And remember, if you need help-"
"Ask another Slytherin." Harry responded dutifully. She nodded sharply and waved them on their way.
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With Gemma's notes they were far and ahead the most prepared of the first years. Half the problem with classes at Hogwarts was just getting to them. The castle filled Harry with a sense of homesickness so strong that it bordered on physical pain. There were trick stairs and doors that would only open if you tickled them a certain way. Peeves, the poltergeist, would pelt anyone standing still long enough with chalk. Safe routes had to be plotted out from behind cover a number of times.
Though Gemma's notes weren't specific enough to warn them about the trick stairs, just knowing the general direction they should be heading put Harry and Theo far ahead of their yearmates. Except for the Hufflepuffs, who moved everywhere as a group with a different prefect leading each time. Harry thought it was an odd system, as surely the prefects, especially the fifth and seventh years, would be missing important parts of their classes. Then again, it was probably generally more efficient than the Gryffindor system. They seemed allow the first years to run around the school like confused goblins, bumping into walls and running afoul of the caretaker. In fact, one Gryffindor student showed up in the first five minutes of Harry's first Transfiguration lesson. He had taken a seat in the back for a full minute, before realizing he was with the wrong house. McGonagall had taken five points for swearing and a further five for running in the halls. Ravenclaws were different all together. Harry could have sworn that he saw one hastily folding up a map at one point. You'd think that would mean they would be first to every class, but from the one day of Herbology the Slytherins shared with them, it was very much not true. Ravenclaws seemed to be delayed by the oddest things, Harry found one investigating the statue of the hump-backed witch on the third floor just minutes before the Ravenclaws were supposed to be heading down to Potions.
Of course, once you got used to the castle, you had to deal with the classes and, perhaps more importantly, the professors. During his first Charms class Harry had been a bit worried when Professor Flitwick had read his name, squeaked, and toppled off the stack of books he'd been standing on. Luckily though, it seemed this reaction was due to Harry's fame as the Boy-Who-Lived, and Flitwick seemed to have no idea about Harry's other claim to fame.
History of Magic was taught by a ghost, and not very well at all. In fact Harry realized, as he sat in horrified fascination during their first lesson, most of it was outright lies. Professor Binns began a obviously well rehearsed speech as soon as everyone sat down, starting off with what he called "The First Goblin Rebellion". Harry listened with straight out incredulity as the man described a war with goblin kind that Harry had never heard of. He spoke of tactics that the goblins would never have used (namely, anything involving a well organized militia) and finally, when he mentioned a 'clan chieftain' while describing their governmental make up, Harry could hold it in no longer.
He raised his hand straight up in the air, drawing the attention of all the other Slytherins, but not Professor Binns. The ghost continued with his lecture, until Harry cleared his throat loudly, holding his hand still in the air. All the Slytherins were watching him with fascination. Finally Binns seemed to realize something was going on, and he looked blearily over at Harry. "Yes, Mr. Fink?"
Harry lowered his hand, "It's Potter actually. I don't understand what you're talking about. Why do you think the goblins have a chieftain?"
Binns blinked slowly, "During the first war the Goblin Chieftain was named Uric the -"
Harry shook his head, "No sir. The goblins have never had a chieftan. They would never have any kind of governmental body here. The only one who can lead goblins is King Jareth, Ruler of Below, Sorcerer of Glass and Builder of the Labyrinth." At Jareth's full title the small mirror in Harry's pocket grew warm, and though he was probably the only one to notice, the sky outside grew a shade darker, "Without his approval no goblins could wage a war, especially not one of the size you're suggesting!"
Binns frowned at him, looking a little more solid, "Young man, I am not sure where you received this fanciful information, but I assure you -"
"And I assure you, sir, that none of what you've said is true or even bound by the faintest bit of logic."
Binns cleared his throat officiously, "I am the History of Magic Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I know my subject Mr. Fink. And if you persist with these outlandish claims I will have no choice but to dock you points and bring you in front of the headmaster."
Harry, though his temper was boiling away in his stomach, took a second to weigh his options. Loss of points would further decrease his standing in Slytherin, and he was not prepared for any type of confrontation with Dumbledore. There was little chance he would gain much from continued rebellion. He had little to no information about the quagmire he could easily be stepping into. He didn't know, for example, how widespread these beliefs about goblins were. He didn't know how well respected Binns was. And, perhaps most dangerously, he had absolutely no idea where these insane lies had come from in the first place.
He swallowed back the hard bitter feeling in his throat, and half nodded once, "I'm sorry sir." though he said it with such ill will his fellow Slytherins shifted uneasily. Binns however, was mollified, and began his speech as if he'd never been interrupted.
Harry pulled out his quill and parchment, determined to do everything he could to fix this. His people were counting on him.
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In direct opposition to the inept ghost, Transfiguration was ruled competently by Professor McGonagall, who easily intimidated the room into silence by turning her desk into a pig and back, causing Harry to raise his eyebrows. Well if they were changing things like that, maybe this class wouldn't be as boring as he thought!
Harry's bubble was immediately burst however, when McGonagall handed out matchsticks and told them to try and attempt to change them into needles.
Harry was befuddled by this task. Couldn't every goblin of three years do a basic imagining like this? But he did as he was told, closing his eyes and spinning the matchstick between his thumb and first finger, picturing a needle. When he opened his eyes a moment later the needle was bright and shiny in his hand, and he dropped it negligently on the desk, before taking a look around at the others.
To Harry's complete and utter shock, not one of the first years had managed to so much as turn their matchstick gray! Next to him Theo was staring down at his matchstick with intense concentration, waving his wand over it. It didn't react a jot.
Harry looked around again, wondering how absolutely no one seemed to be capable of basic imagining! Maybe these wizards weren't as powerful as they wanted everyone to think. Harry bit his lip, and reached out for his needle. If normal wizards couldn't do it, maybe he should pretend to struggle as well. A hidden strength was one that couldn't be planned against, after all. Harry placed his finger on the needle and rolled it back and forth. When he stopped moving it was a matchstick again, the same as Theo's. He glanced around to make sure no one had noticed, and met Theo's wide eyes staring at his work.
A jolt of wariness passed through Harry's stomach. They had only known each other for a day now. If Harry intended to keep this secret for years - which seemed likely - he would need to count on Theo's silence for years. Theo lifted his eyes to meet Harry. They both knew the options here. Harry could change his matchstick back and show his skill to everyone. This would be his smartest move, as having the secret meant Theo had power over him. Theo could announce right now that Harry had done the assignment, and easily. The risks and benefits of each course were legion. Harry could practically see the pros and cons of each plan running through Theo's head. Finally Theo nodded, once, shortly, and turned his attention back to his own matchstick.
Harry considered Theo for one final moment. He turned back to his desk and began pretending to try his hardest to turn a matchstick into a needle.
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After dinner that night Harry and Theo easily separated themselves from the group, and wandered off to an abandoned classroom they'd found in the dungeons. Judging by the dust and spiderwebs they were the only ones to have found the place for a long time. Harry pushed the door shut behind them, and turned to find Theo already looking at him.
"How'd you do that?" Theo asked, doing his best to sound bored, but Harry could hear the excitement beneath his voice.
He scuffed his toe against the floor, considered if he should lie or not. "I - I've been doing stuff like that forever. Long since I got my wand. I don't understand how you wizards can't! Everyone I know -" Harry broke off, realizing he was getting too close to revealing too much. "Everyone I know thinks it's normal. I didn't know that wizards here were so bad at Transfiguration."
Theo's brow was creased hard, and he appeared to be mulling that over, "Why'd you want to keep it a secret then?"
Harry shrugged a little, "People are always staring at me. Cause of, you know." Harry lifted his hand to his forehead, but dropped it before it could get that far. He frowned down at the floor, "Plus, you know, any secret skill-"
"Is a skill that can't be planned for." Theo nodded, "Well. I'll keep your secret."
Harry grinned at him, "Really?"
Theo nodded once, sharply, "Yes. And -" he hesitated, "I'll tell you a secret of mine. So it's fair."
Harry was torn. He did trust Theo. But they'd only met a few days ago. His Slytherin brain, which was already flourishing with the tutelage of his new house, told him getting a secret of Theo's would be the smartest thing. But it seemed mean. "You don't have to." Harry said. Though he didn't sound quite convinced himself and his response only seemed to encourage Theo more, and he looked even more determined.
"Yes I do." He bit his lip, "I really want a friend. And we can't really be friends if -"
He broke off again, because Harry was nodding, having already followed that thought to the end, "Okay. If that's what you want."
Theo straightened a bit, looking determined, but his voice was soft, "My father is a Death Eater. He bribed the Wizengamot to get himself off." Harry's mouth fell open in surprise.
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Needless to say, after their long talk that night Harry and Theo were even more inseparable than before. Slytherin friendships, Harry learned, were quite different from regular friendships. Once he and Theo had a bit of leverage on each other, trust was easy, and so was friendship. Theo seemed relieved to have someone to talk to. Harry knew that Theo would have his back against the rest of the Slytherins. The rest of Slytherin house was a study in contradictions. Some of the older children, including Draco, looked at Harry like he was plotting to betray them at any moment. Others studied Harry with interest, offering him homework tips and advice without being asked. Still others did the same thing as many of the students from other houses, and only looked at his forehead when speaking to him.
Meanwhile classes continued. Astronomy met at midnight on Tuesday nights. Their first astronomy class was the first drastic example of Gemma's words on the night of the opening feast.
All ten of the Slytherin first years left from the common room together, yawning a bit, at half past eleven. Harry and Theo, who were nigh inseparable since that first Transfiguration lesson, led the group up the many winding stairs to the Astronomy tower. Their telescopes were already in the astronomy classroom, delivered by the same mysterious power that had known where to place their trunks that first night. They were waiting on a staircase to make its way down from the second floor to pick them up, when one of the Ravenclaw prefects appeared.
He saw them, clearly noticed the green touches on their uniforms and scowled suspiciously. "What are you lot doing then? It's far past curfew."
Draco drew himself up, but Harry knew that would end badly for sure and quickly spoke before the boy could get his feet under him, "Going to Astronomy."
The prefect frowned a little harder, eyeing them suspiciously, "Well I will just go with you then. Shall I?"
He said it challengingly, and Harry felt his back stiffen a bit at the tone. He opened his mouth to question what exactly the boy thought they would be doing out, altogether like this, but Blaise beat him to it.
"That sounds wonderful. Is there a faster way?" Blaise's voice, typically the drawling voice of someone who was about to fall asleep, was even slower and lazier than usual. Harry rolled one of his shoulders to release some of his annoyance.
The prefect glared at them all, and shouldered through them, stepping onto the stair that had finally landed. He led them all the way up to the top of the astronomy tower, leading sometimes and other times whirling around to face them, or walk behind them. As if they - all ten of them - could have managed to sneak off behind his back.
When they made it to the tower, the prefect gently took Harry's arm, and ushered the rest into the room. Harry traded raised eyebrows at Theo, but they still had a few minutes until midnight so Harry didn't try to get away. The prefect leaned in furtively, nervous eyes glancing back to the students every so often, "It's an honor to meet you Harry. You should know that us Ravenclaws don't blame you for your sorting." Harry's eyebrow went a little higher, but the boy wasn't looking at his face. Instead his eyes were continually shifting from the group of first years in the classroom, to Harry's scar, to his green and silver tie. "It's obvious you were raised by muggles, so how could you have known? And of course, you hatstalled for quite a while." The prefect reached out and clasped Harry's shoulder for a moment before releasing, "Well, just know, Ravenclaw House will offer any assistance you require. If you ever feel unsafe, just find us. The Ravenclaw tower is the next one over."
Theo was making a hilarious face inside the classroom, and Harry pressed his lips together to avoid laughing. Did people really think that a bunch of eleven year olds were going to band together and murder him? But he knew better than to laugh at an offer of support, no matter how misinformed. He smiled once he was sure he wouldn't laugh, "Thank you."
The prefect nodded pompously, "Of course."
Harry waited until the boy had left to turn and roll his eyes extravagantly. Theo laughed, and even Draco cracked a grin.
oooooo
It was less funny after class, when they were cranky and tired with eyes that seemed to be permanently squinting from looking through their telescopes. The prefect was waiting for them outside the door, looking nearly as cranky as Harry felt.
The Slytherins traded glances, but it was obvious there was nothing to do about this. Draco was scowling darkly, but a few quelling looks from everyone else kept him from starting with the 'my father' threats.
The prefect led them back to the dungeons the same way he'd taken them up; with many suspicious glances and dark looks.
It wasn't until they got to the entrance to the dungeons that Harry, and everyone else, realized what was wrong with this. If they continued going they'd lead the prefect right to their common room!
They traded looks. Blaise spoke up first, "Thank you very much, but I think we will be fine from here."
The prefect looked at him suspiciously, crossed his arms firmly over his chest, "I will deliver you right to your common room."
The silent 'so I know you can't get up to anything evil' was so apparent that it practically echoed. Harry opened his mouth, unsure what to say. His stomach was squirming with a hot mixture of offense and embarrassment. Luckily at that exact second a piece of the dungeon shadow seemed to separate itself from the rest, and Professor Snape appeared silently at the bottom of the stairs.
"Ah. Mister Turpin. Is there a problem here?" his voice was deeper and more melodious than Harry had thought it would be. It drawled, but not the haughty drawl of Draco or the soporific drawl that Blaise favored. Instead Snape sounded like Harry imagined the dragon from the school's motto had sounded. Somehow bored with a thread of clear warning and menace.
The prefect scowled a little, but uncrossed his arms, "I was just delivering you first years from the astronomy tower."
Snape had reached the top of the stairs now, and he peered down at Turpin from his impressive height. "Ah. Thank you for your efforts to keep the first years safe. I believe I can take it from here, however."
Turpin nodded once, "Of course Professor." His tone of voice clearly said something different however, and Snape looked at him coolly for a long moment.
"Yes, Mister Turpin," he finally said, "in fact, a point to Ravenclaw for going above and beyond your duty." Turpin looked surprised, and so did the other Slytherins, but Harry could hear the menace in Snape's voice ramp up a bit, and hid a smile. "Of course, sadly, there is a reason that stalking eleven year olds is beyond your job purview. The prefects rounds end at midnight, and you have stayed out quite far passed that hour. So I will, sadly, have to take twenty points for breaking curfew. Ten points for every hour passed."
Turpin looked ready to explode, but Snape was correct, and they all knew it. There was nothing left for Turpin to do but stalk back to Ravenclaw tower. Snape watched him go with a small sneer. Harry stared at him, transfixed. Now there was that royal air Jarth was always going on about. Harry was rather terrible at it himself.
Snape turned to them, pausing in what looked like surprise when he saw Harry staring at him. Harry dropped his gaze and desperately tried not to fidget. "Thank you sir. We weren't sure what to do."
Snape cleared his throat, almost looking awkward for a moment, before he regained his typical scowl. "If it happens again, lead them to my office door. Merlin knows none of them would be able to find their way around down here if their lives depended on it. Now off with you. Late breakfast will start in your dorm at 1030, as always after Astronomy."
Snape swept off back towards his office, and the first years all traded looks of amusement and pride.
oooooo
When Friday finally rolled round Harry was practically bursting with excitement. A double block of Potions with the Gryffindors was their only class before the weekend. Harry had sent his first letter home yesterday by ducking into the bathroom before anyone else and quickly passing the long roll of parchment through the mirror for Hoggle to pass along.
Harry was excited about the weekend and potions class. He'd read his potions text nearly cover to cover, all of the muggleborn introduction manuals, and two ingredients books that older Slytherins had recommended in the library.
Aside from that, he was fairly bursting to know more about Professor Snape. The only time Harry had seen him was when he'd saved them from the Ravenclaw prefect. The hat's assertion that Snape was sworn thrice to protect him was an intriguing one. Harry was pretty certain that one was a result of the oath all teachers had to take not to knowingly endanger the students (he'd read about it while skimming through Hogwarts: A History). But the other two were complete mysteries. Looking Snape up in the library only yielded incomprehensible potions articles, a notice that he was the youngest Potions Master in a century, and a notice in the Wizengomet Quarterly from 1982 that said "Snape, Severus T. - case dismissed, records sealed".
Potions was the only class first years shared with another house. Harry had heard that in a few years more classes would be shared, such as Herbology and their electives. But for now Potions was the only real contact the Slytherins had with the rest of the school.
The Slytherins got to the potions classroom first, ten minutes before the start of class. Everyone had realized after the first few days that Harry was very good at finding his way around. Draco was a bit sulky about it, but he was a true Slytherin, and took the advantage even if he didn't like where it came from.
The door was tightly shut, which Harry thought was a good idea. Potions were very easily contaminated, after all.
The Gryffindors arrived in small groups. First a girl with bushy brown hair and a bookbag filled to the bursting. Harry vaguely recognized her from the library, and smiled at her. She looked at him for a moment before ducking to readjust the books in her bag. Two other girls joined after a moment, holding a glossy magazine between them and pointing to the image of a blonde smiling man. Harry had seen Pansy reading the same article before breakfast, though you wouldn't know it by the haughty look the girl was giving the two Gryffindor girls.
Neville was in the next group, with two other boys. Harry grinned and dragged him and Theo over to the other side of the hall, "Neville!"
Harry had run into Neville a few times in the library, and he seemed constantly surprised when Harry made his way over to speak to him. Harry motioned to Theo, "Have you met Theo? Theo have you met Neville? I am so excited for potions class! It sounds so interesting." Harry paused and grimaced, "Except for all the animal bits."
Theo's mouth curled into a half smile at the same time Neville smiled fully. Both of Harry's friend had heard about his excitement/disgust with potions. At length. Harry noticed their amusement of course, and sighed heavily. "Great, now you're both laughing at me."
Neville tried to hide his smile, but Theo just smirked harder, "I'm sorry Harry. It just funny!"
Harry sighed deeply, pretending to be terribly put upon. "My friends are so mean to me."
Theo smirked a bit more before speaking, "You don't seem to ever have a problem eating your daily rasher of bacon."
Harry fake scowled at him, "Yeah, but I don't have to slice up the pig do I?"
Neville and Theo both laughed at that, just as the door to the potions classroom soundlessly fell open, just as one of the red-headed Wesleys came running down the corridor, huffing. They all went into the classroom and Harry looked around with interest. Like every corner of the dungeons that Harry had seen so far the Potions classroom was dark with a faint greenish glow coming in from the windows that looked out onto the depths of the lake. It was an intimidating atmosphere, even not counting the jars of pickled animals that stood all around the walls. There were three columns of desk pairs, with a cauldron between each pair. Harry and Theo grabbed a pair of desks in the center column, in the second row. Neville and one of the Gryffindor boys took the set behind them, and Draco dragged Goyle up to the first row.
Professor Snape watched them take their seats from behind his desk, which was a giant construct of dark wood. As soon as the final bell rang he snapped open the scroll in his hand and began the class by taking roll call. Harry had grown used to the professors reacting at his name. Flitwick had fallen over, Sinestra, the Astronomy Professor had stopped to smile brilliantly at him, and Quirrell had stuttered so hard that he'd been impossible to understand. Snape, however, just went straight down the list without any reaction.
Once done he snapped his wrist again, and the roll sheet spooled itself back together. He looked out at the class, and seemed to study them for one long moment before he began speaking, "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses …. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
Harry was practically vibrating with excitement. That sounded awesome! He could hardly wait! He grinned widely at Theo, who was looking amused again, at him probably, but Harry didn't care! He wanted to learn everything right now! Behind them Harry heard Neville swallow nervously.
"Longbottom!" Snape said, suddenly, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Neville gulped audibly again, but Harry had been excitedly talking about this exact potion just two days ago in the library. Neville should remember. "Umm. The Draft of Living Death?"
Snape stared at him for a moment, before he sneered a little, "The Draught of Living Death. If you please." Neville squirmed a bit, but Harry could see him relax as Snape's attention moved away, "Potter. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Harry sat up a little, thinking, "Well. If you didn't have any in your store room, you'd have to find a goat." Harry grimaced hard, "They can usually be found in the stomach of a healthy goat."
Snape stared at him for a long moment, dark eyes glittering. He sneered again, and turned to the Weasley boy, "Weasley, What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
Harry turned a bit to watch Weasley blink slowly, "Um. I don't know sir. But I think Hermione does." Indeed, next to him the bushy haired girl was practically rising out of her chair her hand was raised so high.
Draco and Goyle laughed softly, making Harry frown at them. Snape smirked as well, and Harry frowned a little more as he turned back to face front. "They're the same plant. Also known as aconite. And that will be a point from Gryffindor for your cheek Weasley. Well?" He asked, moving from behind his desk, "Why aren't you all copying this down?"
Snape then twitched his wand, and the recipe for a potion to cure boils appeared on the chalkboard. They all got to work quickly as Snape swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs. Harry had to pass the fangs over to Theo, feeling kind of sick at the thought of where they'd come from. He did the same with the slugs, but he was fine with the porcupine quills, as he knew they were often shed freely. Snape came around to glare at them once or twice, as he did everyone. He was favored the Slytherins extravagantly, taking points off of the Weasley boy for holding his knife improperly, and glaring so hard at Neville that the poor boy dropped his porcupine quills all over the floor. Luckily not in his cauldron, as it was still on the flame. Slytherin's weren't exempt from his comments, indeed he was nearly just as nasty to Blaise and Daphne towards the back. Though he didn't take any points. He seemed to like Draco though, despite the fact that he was paired with Goyle, Snape stopped at their desks multiple times to hold up examples at just the proper way to stew a horned slug or whatever. Theo and Harry were the only ones he ignored completely, which seemed lucky after the first hour of listening to him 'teach' the rest of the class.
By the end of class Harry and Theo's potion looked close to what it was supposed to - though possibly not as brown as it could be. They bottled it easily and left it on Snape's desk before heading out. Harry gave Neville a large smile and a thumbs up when he saw that the boy's potion was nearly the same shade theirs had been, though maybe a little lighter and more lumpy.
Harry and Theo headed back to their dorms to drop off their Potions texts. Harry was quiet on the way, thinking of the lesson they'd just left. Snape hadn't been at all like he'd thought. Harry understood that they Slytherins were distrusted by the rest of the school, but surely it helped nothing to play into those dark prejudices of what Slytherin house was. Once they got back they went into their dorms to put their books away, already thinking about what they were going to do over their weekend.
Harry's plans were put on hold, however, when he discovered a letter sitting on his bed. His name was scrawled on it in Sarah's simple handwriting, though he could see Jareth's dramatic curls in the first line when he opened it. As soon as he opened it a thin piece of newspaper came fluttering out, landing back on his bed. He grabbed it, feeling his eyebrows raise high as he read the headline Gringotts Break-In Latest.
It was with a distinct feeling of trepidation that he turned to his parent's letter.