Albus Dumbledore buried his wince with a cough drop as Snape slammed the door on his way out of the headmaster's office. His little potions master had been rather difficult of late, and on more than one occasion he'd had to remind the man of his own failings, to remind him that really, all this mess was his doing for the foolish choices he'd made in the past, and that he shouldn't try shifting the blame onto someone who had only ever tried to do what was best for Harry Potter.
He grinned down darkly at the cloak folded handsomely on his desk. The news that had so upset Snape was music to his ears. That the Potter girl had had such a hard life would surely work in his favour. That she already knew the way of the world would surely save him a great deal of time and effort in persuading her to kill for him. Most importantly though was that if Snape was correct in his assessment of her character, he'd have her loyalty before the end of term: He knew very well that most problematic children, those with aggressive and anti-social behaviours, were simply the children that most needed and wanted attention, affection and a firm hand. He was ready to provide all of those things – that had been his plan when he left her with the magic hating muggles after all.
Harry sat on her trunk, picking viciously with her knife at the wall beside her as she listened to the pounding rain outside. It was the dead of night, and tomorrow morning she was supposed to be at King's Cross, getting a train to a magical boarding school. However at that moment she was sheltering from the storm under the stairs of a tower block several miles away.
Over the last month she fluctuated between excitement and dread, at looking forward to going to Hogwarts and firmly deciding she wouldn't, and when yesterday she'd finally declared she would not be attending, Jay had kicked her out – after a nasty lecture:
"You're not going? You have to be fucking kidding me! You don't want a free education? You really love living in this shithole so much that you are going to turn down a free bed, free food? You're fucking unbelievable! It's a good thing your folks aren't around to see you pissing away the opportunity they've given you! It's a lot more than most can give their kids! But no, you're right! Be a fucking coward and stay here! And hey, don't worry, you've only got maybe two or three more years, then you can go out and work the streets with the others! Who needs a fucking education anyway?!"
That had gone on for a while, before he eventually told her to get the fuck out. It was far from the first time she'd been kicked out, and so wasn't particularly worried because she knew he'd take her back. It was however the first time he'd done so for her benefit, and she hated to admit it, but it was probably just the push she needed to make her leave. She was still telling herself that she wasn't going, that she had no place in that world, but there was probably a reason she hadn't let herself fall asleep yet – she had no alarm, so if she did fall asleep now there was no way she'd make it to the train on time.
She wondered if Jay would be of a different mind if she shared the stories in her new books; the ones that made her famous and put her in serious danger. Probably not.
In the end, she spent the night carving the words to one of Jay's recited poems into the wall, before getting up with the sun and slowly making her way to the station – grabbing a large black coffee on the way. She hadn't been planning to leave when she got dressed the day before and was tired, so probably looked wrecked, but was also too tired to care. Still, she got changed into something less grubby in the station's toilets and tried to tame her hair with some water before giving it up as a bad job and heading out to find the impossible platform.
It was a good thing she arrived so early, because she had plenty of time to watch, invisible as ever even with her great trunk, as wizards and witches arrived and one by one disappeared into a solid brick wall. They became less and less as she watched the station clock ticking down to eleven. At five to she decided it was now or never, and walked speedily at the wall, eyes closed and muscles clenched as she still half expected a collision. She even mumbled 'open sesame'.
It was only when the sound of excited hustle and bustle hit her that she dared open her eyes. The Hogwarts Express was quite the sight, and so were the families around her. Some of the parents were crying, and Harry rolled her eyes and set off to find a seat. She was planning on sleeping the whole way.
She was lucky enough to find a small vacant compartment near the back and, after placing her trunk across the doorway to discourage visitors, promptly fell gracelessly onto the seat, pulling down the shutter to block those outside, and got as comfortable as she could. By the time she felt the train pulling out of the station she was already half asleep.
Harry could pretty much sleep through anything at home, but she was also highly cautious and so her sleep was disturbed every time the door to her compartment slid open and she felt someone else's presence. For the most part she brushed them off or ignored them altogether and they moved on. Only one girl didn't take the hint.
"Oh, sorry to disturb you. May I sit in here?" She looked up to the girl, who appeared to be a little older than Harry and had a classic beauty that she could never even dream of.
"Sure, I don't own the train, but I'm gonna be sleeping." She warned and leaned back against the side of the car.
"That's fine. I'll let you sleep, but I'm Fay." Harry didn't respond.
All was quiet for a good few hours, but then the door opened again – this time to maybe a dozen students.
"This has to be her; we've checked everywhere else!"
"No way. She looks like a muggle tramp!" Yep, they were definitely talking about her. She turned a cold glare on the intruders.
"I am a muggle tramp, so why don't you piss off?"
"Speaks like one too." She'd seen the girl who spoke before, at Diagon Alley.
"Pans, at least try to be tactful." Chided another girl who was larger set and had a square face.
"Come on guys, she was sleeping." Fay tried, but this just turned their attention to her.
"Oh, trying to keep her all to yourself? Sounds about right for you, Dunbar." The first girl (Pans?) sneered nastily. "Makes sense that someone like you would want to cosy up to the Potter Princess. Blood Traitor through and through."
"Hey, I don't even know who this is?" Fay responded, pointing at Harry.
"Well, who are you then?" Pans asked haughtily.
"Aurora." Harry replied and then made a display of going back to sleep, completely ignoring any further conversation and thankfully it didn't take long until they all left, Fay included.
It was only some time later, when sitting in a precarious little boat staring up at a castle straight from a fairy tale, that the realisation she was really here hit home. She was actually here, alone, in a different country, moving into the most beautiful place she'd ever seen to learn how to be a witch… She wanted a cigarette.
Every step she took after that moment of realisation only drove it home more, until she found herself standing in front of the student population, staring in disbelief at a singing hat.
"Mother of fuck." She exclaimed under her breath.
She watched each student go up to the hat to be sorted, she watched as each one without exception was pale with worry when they took their seat on the stool, and wondered how they could show such weakness before the people they had to live with for the next god know how long.
When her name was called, she tried to ignore the excited whispers spreading like wildfire throughout the Great Hall, and took her seat with purposeful insouciance.
"Hmm, an interesting mind…" A voice cut through her thoughts as soon as the hat was placed upon her. She didn't like it, not one bit: it was too intrusive. "Ah, don't worry; I'm only here to sort you. Though, I think that might be a challenge with you, yes?"
"Just get on with it!" She whispered sharply.
"Patience is a virtue, you know?"
"So's Hatricide."
"Ha! Definitely not a Ravenclaw then." The hat continued, not at all intimidated by her threat. In fact it seemed to be mocking her in a way she didn't understand. "You have spirit, and are brave, no doubt. You'd be well placed in Gryffindor."
"Then place me in Gryffindor!" She hissed.
"But there is more: a desire to get strong, to prove yourself worthy of being here; a thirst to be great! Slytherin would help you on the way to greatness."
"Then place me there!"
"Yes, I think Slytherin House would best suit you. But I must pass on a warning before I decide – there was another student, one who walked these halls so many years ago, and he was just like you in so many ways: He was strong in both power and mind; he was independent, because he didn't believe he needed anyone else; and most importantly, he looked down on others." I don't look down on people, she thought indignantly. "Ah, but you do, you do. You see them as weak and petty and you have no doubt that you can surpass them all. The boy I speak of thought the same way, and he made all the wrong decisions because of it. So please, remember that just because they haven't been sharpened by life, that doesn't mean other people don't have powers of their own, powers that that boy did not, but you do and could easily lose if you follow the wrong path."
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Her question was loud enough to be heard by the staff and students nearby.
"Just remember that, and remember you don't have to fight for survival here at Hogwarts."
"Oh fuck off." That was also heard by many and met with raised eyebrows and open mouths. She didn't understand what the crazy old hat was talking about, but she knew he was commenting on her life, and the way she chose, no, the way she had to live that life.
"You don't have to live that way. All the same, for you, better be SLYTHERIN!"
For a moment after there was silence, and then, as she made her way to the Slytherin table, chatter broke out, chatter that got louder and louder and contained various cries of 'Traitor' and only subsided when the women conducting the sorting called for calm.
Really, what was wrong with these people?
Dumbledore watched the rest of the sorting with a frown. Being placed in Voldemort's house didn't mean much to him personally – many good wizards had come from Slytherin – but he knew it certainly wouldn't make his job of spinning her Golden Girl image any easier. He supposed he would just have to work with it. Besides, there were enough children of death eaters in that House to ensure she was ostracized, and then the lighter students would be her only choice for friendship, and they could help set her right. And if the Snakes tried to make friends with her, he would just have to make her see how they all wanted to use her and how they support her parents' murderer.
The headmaster wasn't the only one pondering this unexpected sorting; all the teachers were a little shocked, but resting on the back of Quirinus Quirrell's head, Voldemort was intrigued. If the beacon of Light could be turned against them it would be a huge victory, it would embarrass Dumbledore and destroy the morale of those fighting for him. And if she could not be swayed, being in Slytherin would make her so much easier to get to, to kill – all it would take is an invite from a trusted Slytherin friend and she'd be as good as dead.
All the staff had been briefed on what to expect from Harry Potter. They knew of her colourful childhood and brash personality, and they were curious to find out how she'd polish up.
After the headmaster – a man Harry thought belonged in a hospital for the senile – had said his words, food appeared before her. It was more food than she'd ever seen and it smelled divine, and she wasted no time in digging in, not having eaten in over a day.
"You're Harry Potter?" Asked a boy a few seats down. She remembered from the sorting that he was called Blaise. She remembered because it was such a good name… she wished she had a name like that!
"You told us her name was Aurora." Draco Malfoy accused Pansy. She'd made a point to learn their names, because it was easier to avoid and/or fight with people when you knew who they were.
"That's what she told us!" The heavyset girl defended.
"Why did you tell us that?" Pansy asked suspiciously.
Harry shrugged. "It's the name of a Disney Princess. I just wanted to sleep. Seemed appropriate."
"Disney?" All the kids around her looked confused.
"You've got to be fucking joking. You don't have Disney in your world?" When no one answered she shook her head and explained: "Ok, well I guess she's just a fairy tale character who's known for, well, sleeping." She could admit that sounded stupid – things like this didn't work if you had to explain them!
"Why did you lie?" Draco asked. She looked down the table and realised she had the attention of more than just the first years.
"I told you, I was tired. A bunch of bitches come knocking at your door, you don't exactly want them to stick around." She cut a potato in half, already feeling full, but also regretful about leaving so much food behind. Her instinct was to save it for later, and it was a hard instinct to ignore.
"We're not bitches!" Pansy growled, rather bitchily in Harry's opinion. The pretty blonde beside Pansy shoved her arm lightly.
"Oh come on Pans, you were kind of mean back on the train."
"Well it was her own fault." She turned to Harry. "Why in Merlin's name do you look like that?" She gestured to her clothes.
"Oh my god, will you shut up? What does it matter to you what I wear?" Harry was getting sick of these people already. She didn't care what the hat said: these people were petty, and probably weak too.
"We want to know why you're dressed like a muggle – a poor muggle." Malfoy's tone was condescending and it grated on Harry. She knew she looked a little haggard, but didn't think it was that bad.
"I'm dressed like a poor muggle, because I am a poor muggle." She responded regardless. These kids could try all they liked, but she wasn't ashamed. "Or at least I thought I was until about a month ago!"
She was taken off guard by the sounds off disgust that followed her answer – one boy even made a gagging noise. It seemed the books were right: some wizards really, really didn't like muggles. However once her words settled, the questions began:
"What do you mean?" "Poor?" "With muggles?" And conclusions were drawn when she chose to ignore those questions, having had enough of these kids:
"Of course the Girl-Who-Lived is a muggle-lover." "Probably turned her back on her magical inheritance to live with the scum!"
"Whatever." She batted their attacks away, which only seemed to annoy them more.
Pansy sat back and sneered across at her. "The old hat has to be broken. You don't belong here at all! Better watch your back, Potter!"
Murmurs of agreement echoed around her, so she was grateful when a prefect came along with a message that the headmaster wanted to see her.
"Look, she's Dumbledore's favourite already." She shot them a glare and walked away from the jeering. She didn't think she'd ever been around so many arseholes at once!
"Ah, Miss Potter, please come in and take a seat." Her face remained impassive as she complied. Nobody was that nice unless they wanted something from you. "Lemon Drop?" He offered when he took his own seat. She shook her head no. She didn't accept gifts from strangers or sweets from old men. Dumbledore carried on jovially: "You must forgive the students' reaction to your sorting. I'm sure you can imagine it was quite a shock." He laughed kindly.
"You wanted to see me?" She finally spoke, wanting to get this over with and feeling the old man wouldn't be getting to the point anytime soon if she did nothing.
"Yes, yes. I wished to speak with you, to see if we can't work together to make your transition here as smooth as possible." Her eyes narrowed.
"And do you have this conversation with all new students?"
"No, I do not." That gentle smile again and twinkling eyes. She wanted to hit him. She was thinking about hitting him… "Only with those who have previously had no formal education, or a stable home." He explained.
"And why would that shit be any of your concern?" She challenged right away. This was the first figure of authority she'd had to deal with in a long time and she wondered if he wasn't going to try to interfere with her life already.
Dumbledore forced himself to stay in character. He knew she was going to be difficult.
"Miss Potter, while at school you will address the staff as either 'professor', 'sir' or 'miss'." He spoke in the same gentle tone, but Harry just gave him a look.
"Really?" She rolled her eyes. "And is that all you wanted to talk to me about, sir? Because I'd really rather be getting to the dorms." She had a funny feeling all her belongings would have either been set on fire or flushed by now.
"Not at all, my dear, that was merely an aside." She couldn't hit him, she told herself, she had to at least try not to get expelled before she'd even unpacked… "I wanted to assure you, that should you need any extra support, either in the way of catching up with the other children – anything you might have missed out on having not been to school – or help navigating the wizarding world, you simply need to ask, and help will be provided." He wanted her to ask him for help? Christ…
She looked down at a Hogwarts crest that headed some letter and spoke, wanting to change the subject.
"Who named the school? 'Cause 'Hogwarts' is a really piss-poor name. Why not just name it 'Boarboils' or 'Pigfarts'?"
"It…"
"And 'school of Witchcraft and Wizardry'? Aren't they the same thing?" He sighed.
"Hogwarts was established over a thousand years ago, and unfortunately, at that time there were some discrepancies in the magical techniques taught to men and women." Harry shrugged, supposing it was a good enough answer. Besides, she didn't actually care what the school was called.
"Now, I believe we also need to discuss your language. Swearing is not permitted in this school, and if you continue to do so, you will find yourself in trouble." He advised a little more sternly.
Harry scoffed. "It's the way I talk." She said dismissively.
"Even so, I believe it would be in your best interests if you learned to avoid using them." Her face screwed up, so he went back to that kindly grandfather tone. "I know it can be difficult…"
"I doubt that." She mumbled, but he ignored her and continued.
"I know that sometimes when you feel cornered you want to kick out at the world…" Oh god, she thought, there was nothing worse than when 'normal' people tried to relate.
"I don't want to kick out at the world, sir. The world is a lot bigger and stronger than me, and I find that if you try, it will knock you the fuck out. Oh, sorry, it will knock you out cold." She wasn't an idiot, and she gave him a flat look to let him know she didn't appreciate what he was trying to do. Thought she knew she really should try to curb the swearing, at least around the teachers. "Can I go now?"
"Yes, you may go." He looked disappointed in her. "But I will be keeping an eye on your progress – to make sure you are settling in."
"Great." She stood to leave, but paused at the door. "Oh and professor? I think while at school you should probably address me as 'Miss Potter', or hey, just 'Potter' if you like: 'Dear' sounds a little overfamiliar to me." And with that she was gone, leaving the aged wizard to frown at the door. He had prepared for it to take some effort to gain her trust, but he might have underestimated the timeline. She wasn't about to snap up his offer or attention anytime soon, and she was also a tad too insightful for his liking. He would need more time with her, but wouldn't get away with asking to see her without good reason.
Oh well, he had all year.
