Disclaimer: I still do not own Harry Potter.

Thank you for the reviews. In regards to Ron, it is true that he did have a Slytherin grandmother, and it's unfortunate that we didn't find out more about her in the story. The fact that one of my reviewers said this to me has given me a great idea, though, and I will explore it as the story goes on. The impression I got of Ron was of someone who believed the stereotypes about Slytherin, but I will be giving him more dimentions in this story. I really hope you enjoy what I end up doing with him.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Xxxxxxxxxx

Harry and his classmates silently followed the two Prefects down staircase after staircase, and many of them moved as they took the Slytherins down to their destination. Harry couldn't help the awe and wonder he felt at this experience, and he tried to ignore the glances of some of his peers, especially that of Malfoy who was looking at him with a disgusted sneer. How could Harry help it? He'd never been in a situation such as this before.

As they trekked down lower and lower, many portraits stared at them, murmuring amongst themselves. Harry heard a fair few mention his name as they gave him speculative, calculating glances. Some greeted the students out loud, especially the ones who had returned to Hogwarts after the summer.

Finally, after what seemed like an age, they arrived at a secret entrance. The male Prefect then said distinctly, "Serpent's tongue," and the entrance slid open.

When Harry stepped into the room, the first word that entered his mind to describe it was "mysterious". The room was adorned with chairs and couches, all with silver and green serpents on them. Harry knew that these were his house colors, and they gave off a very unique aura. Green lamps were hanging from the rough stone walls and ceiling, and as Harry walked over to a window and peered out of it, he could see water beneath him.

"We're under the Great Lake, Potter," Malfoy smirked at him, his condescending tone never faltering.

"I guessed as much, Malfoy," Harry retorted, once again regretting his desperate, foolhardy decision to shake Malfoy's hand. "Just because I live with Muggles doesn't mean I'm stupid."

Malfoy just sneered, and he didn't need to open his mouth for Harry to know what he was thinking.

"Yeah, Draco, lay off him for just one second, would you?" Said Theodore Nott as he joined Harry by the window. Without waiting for Draco's undoubtedly predictable response, he continued, "What do you think of the common room, Potter?"

"Um," said Harry, not expecting the question. "Uh ... it's really interesting."

"Well, it'll lose that quality after a while," said Millicent, but she couldn't help the fact that her eyes lit up as they looked around as well. "You'll be spending a lot of time in here, if you're not in class or in your dorm. This is where you come to do homework or talk to people."

She was going to continue, but just then, the teacher dressed in black who had glowered so ferociously at Harry at the feast came into the room. Everyone immediately went silent as he walked to the front of the room, and as he cut a path through the crowd, the pose he struck was terrifyingly intimidating. He did not look like a man anyone wanted to cross.

"Sit down," the man said, and even though his voice was very soft, there was an endless amount of menace in it. Every student instantly found a spot on either a couch or a chair. Unfortunately, just like at the feast, Harry was stuck next to Draco Malfoy. Pansy sat next to Harry on his other side, and Crabbe sat on the other side of Malfoy with Goyle right beside Crabbe. The other first-year Slytherins were also not far away.

"Now," said the man, his eyes roving over the students as they gazed at him in rapt attention. "For those of you who do not know, my name is Severus Snape, and I am the head of Slytherin House. I also teach Potions. If you aim to succeed here at Hogwarts, there are quite a few things you should know."

Harry did not move a muscle as Snape went over rule after rule that was to be followed in this castle, with no exceptions. Harry realized that when he said those last three words, Snape's eyes flickered to meet his, the fierce hate he'd displayed at the feast still apparent in them. Harry felt his ire rise; he'd never met the man before in his life. Why was he putting special emphasis on him? Was this because of his so-called fame? If Harry didn't know better, he would have sworn that Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia had spread their lies about what a little hooligan he was, but he knew that they wouldn't "lower themselves" to talk to "those unnatural, good-for-nothing freaks". So what had Harry ever done to him to deserve this?

Though this rankled him to no end, Harry still made every effort to listen as subjects like curfew, homework, how to maneuver around the castle, and other such matters were discussed. "You will receive your timetables in the morning," he finally said. "Now, I want all of you to go to your dormitories at once. Do. Not. Dawdle," he said in a voice that promised dire consequences if they did.

The moment the students started to get up, Theodore Nott walked over to Harry and saw the expression on his face. "I've heard he's not as bad as he seems," he whispered conspiratorially to him. "I've been told he lets us get away with stuff he won't let the other houses get away with, especially when we break rules in front of them."

Harry looked at him dubiously. He was about to reply, but a snarl of, "POTTER," from his right side stopped him in his tracks. Snape himself was storming over to him, that look of fury still plastered on his face. Nott instantly backed away, looking taken aback himself by Snape's facial expression.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked, feeling like a deer in the headlights despite the fact he did not understand this man one bit.

"Come with me, now," Snape growled, beginning to walk away. The Slytherins around Hary stared at the two in bewilderment as Harry instinctively followed him, not knowing what else to do. He had learned from many years of experience: never, ever disobey anyone when they speak to you in that tone of voice.

Harry and Snape left the common room, and once again Harry found himself traversing several hallways. However, this time, the walk was much shorter, and sooner than he'd like, Harry arrived at an office. Snape opened the door, and once Harry had followed him inside, he slammed it behind him.

Harry stared around the office, not doubting for a second that it belonged to this dour man in front of him. The whole room was lined with shelves, and each new one he studied seemed to contain more slimy things than the last. He stared, morbidly fascinated, but Snape's barking voice pulled him out of his reverie. "Sit down," he sneered, his black eyes gleaming maliciously. "And you will look at me when I am talking to you. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," said Harry quietly, and he obediently sat down in a chair across from Snape. With an effort, he forced himself to look at his professor.

Despite the fact that he had followed the man's instructions, Snape's expression only seemed to grow uglier as Harry's emerald eyes met his cold black ones. "Now then," he started, his voice dripping with venom, "I want to make sure that at least one thing is drilled into that skull of yours before you start getting any ideas. You will receive no special treatment here, Potter." Harry didn't think he'd ever heard his surname spat out like this before. It sounded as though Snape were expelling poison as he snarled it out. "If you came to this school expecting that, you were very, very much mistaken."

His eyes bored into Harry's, their gazes locking in a battle of wills. At the conclusion of this last statement, Harry felt anger rise up inside him. Special treatment? Special treatment? Well, if Snape didn't want to give him "special treatment" then why had he drawn attention to Harry and forced him to leave the common room in front of all the other students? Snape was a hypocrite, pure and simple. It might be negative special treatment, but it was still special treatment. Snape was achieving exactly the opposite effect of what he wanted. If Snape didn't want Harry getting "special treatment" in this school, then he should have just left him the hell alone and let him go up to his dormitory with his peers.

Harry didn't voice this thought, but the moment it escaped the confines of his mind, Snape's expression grew positively murderous. For a fleeting instant, Harry thought his teacher was going to strike him, but after a long, indefinable moment, Snape's expression went completely blank. "Back to your dorm with you, Potter, and go to bed," he snarled at him before opening the door and striding out, his black robes billowing behind him.

His mind racing, Harry quickly stood and followed his professor out the door. Even though he hated to admit it, he was somewhat relieved that the man followed him back to the secret entrance to the common room. He muttered the password, but didn't continue to follow Harry as he went inside. Harry knew that without Snape's guidance, he would have been lost; he had no idea where he was going in this castle yet.

As Harry entered the common room again, his encounter with Professor Snape whirled around his thoughts. What on Earth did the awful man have against him? Why was he treating him like this when he didn't know him from a hole in the wall? And why, in those indeterminable seconds when their eyes had locked, did it feel as though Snape had known what Harry was thinking?

But all Harry wanted now was to find his bed and sleep. It had been such an intense day, one where Harry felt as though he'd experienced every emotion known to man.

And thankfully, Theodore Nott was waiting for him, and without a word, he beckoned for Harry to follow him up to the first-year boys' dormitory.