A/N: First of all: I'm sorry it took me so long to write this chapter, but the truth is I do not own a copy of the book in English, only in Danish… and sometimes I need to quite what people are saying in the book. Up till now I had used the audio books that were on youtube but they have all been removed. Luckily I found a way to get the quotes and you got this chapter xD

Hopefully it aint going to be such a long time before the next update

-Strangers on a Train-

Platform 9¾ was stuffed with nervous parents, excited children, and an abundance of luggage for an entire school year. In the middle of it all stood Ichigo with his own trunk, without really knowing what to do with himself. He knew he should board the train and drive the entire day to northern Scotland where Hogwarts was placed… However, he had no idea about where he should sit; if there were special seats to the different years, or if he should just drop down beside some kids who looked to be around his age and then hope the best. With an inwardly shrug he admitted that he might as well board the train and see what happened. Barging in in the middle of it all without having some kind of plan was, after all, his preferred style. So he grabbed the handle of his trunk, stepped up into the train, and then he would take it from there.

He walked down the aisle, hoping to find something that could lead him to a seat or perhaps an empty compartment, but he didn't get far before a familiar voice stopped him.

"Ichigo."

The former shinigami substitute turned around and saw Slughorn popping his head out of the compartment he had just walked by. Strange. Dumbledore had said most of the teachers apparated to Hogsmeade instead of riding the train.

"Why don't you come in?" the fat wizard asked, "there's plenty of space in here, if you don't have anywhere else to sit of course," he added.

He hadn't, and even if he was a little reluctant to share a compartment with a teacher, it was nice that Slughorn wasn't prejudiced because of Ichigo's hair colour. So he took him up on his offer and joined him.

"Well, Ichigo," Slughorn began when the teenager had sat down in front of him, "I hear you spent the entire summer at Albus' place. How did it go?"

"Well, fine, I think."

"Did you really catch up in all the subjects?"

Ichigo could hear the conductor whistle and shortly after felt the train set into motion. "Well, it was only in Defense against the dark arts, transfiguration, and charms. I didn't have a chance to learn the rest because they take considerably more time to do."

"But you really did go through the entire syllabus for 5 years in those subjects?"

"Yes."

Slughorn's eyes widened.

"But," Ichigo added, "I've promised to read up on the correct use of the different spells and such."

Slughorn nodded. "Yes, well, it's a shame you don't take potions. That's my subject, you see. I would have enjoyed having such a talented student in my class."

Ichigo wasn't really sure he would be good at potions. He could do magic with a wand perfectly, but the thing about being calm and do things in a certain order wasn't exactly his cup of tea.

"You wouldn't mind if I did my homework, would you?" Ichigo asked, "unfortunately I still have to do my homework from high school when I spend my time here."

The professor didn't have a problem with that, and soon the former shinigami substitue was doing his math homework. Summer homework was annoying, but he might as well do it now and make use of the very long trip. He knew he would get more homework sent by his friends. The teachers from High school thought he was attending an English school, which wasn't a lie, but they didn't know it was magic that was being taught. And if he didn't study by himself, he would be hopelessly behind everyone else when he came back. He did, however, think he would be the top student in English. He grinned smugly. When he got home he would outdo even the teacher in that particular subject.

"That looks complicated," Slughorn remarked and watched Ichigo write up mathematical calculations.

"It's not so bad, actually," the teenager muttered, "you don't have math as a subject in Hogwarts, do you?"

"No," the fat wizard answered, "that's something muggles use. Magic can't be explained by simple mathematics. But most parents do teach their children the basic rules of math like how to put two and two together."

Ichigo nodded. They probably didn't have physics either. Magic did not abide by the laws of physics.

After some times with silence the professor cleared his throat. Ichigo looked up from his second degree equations questioningly.

"I was wondering if you brought your own lunch," he asked casually.

"Nope, Dumbledore said I could buy something on the train, so I was pretty much counting on that."

"Oh yes, that's true." Slughorn smiled as if he'd forgotten. "I think the trolley is too loaded with sweats to my taste, though. So I brought my own lunch. I was wondering if you would like some."

Saying no to free food was definitely not Ichigo's style, so it was naturally a big yes from him.

"I hope you don't mind if I also invite some other student's to dine with us. I'm sure you would like to meet someone your own age."

Before Ichigo could respond, Slughorn had withdrawn a couple rolls of parchment from out of nowhere, and with an easiness which shouldn't have been possible for a man his size, stood up from his seat. "If you'll excuse me for a bit," he said and left the compartment, leaving behind a speechless Ichigo.

Shrugging, he returned to his homework which was surprisingly easer to make without the other man's company. One thing he had to admit though, was that Slughown definitely was different than any other teacher he had met before. Okay, Ochi-sensei was in a league of her own while Slughorn seem too friendly, and it was certainly not every day you were called by you first name by a teacher.

Approximately ten minutes later Slughorn stepped into the compartment followed by a red-haired girl who looked like she didn't really know what she was doing there. He introduced her as Ginny Weasley. She sat down in a corner and watched Slughorn, a bit insecure.

Shortly after they got company in the form of a tall black boy with high cheek bones, a skinny boy who looked very nervous, a large youth and at last, after some time, two familiar faces he recognized to be Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter. He nodded when they stepped in; acknowledging them, but his gesture was quickly drowned in an exuberant greeting from Slughorn.

"Harry, m'boy!" Slughorn said, jumping up at the sight of him so that his great velvet-covered belly seemed to fill all the remaining space in the compartment. His shiny bald head and great silvery mustache gleamed as brightly in the sunlight as the golden buttons on his waistcoat. "Good to see you, good to see you! And you must be Mr. Longbottom!"

At a gesture from Slughorn they sat down opposite of each other on the only two free seats which were closets to the door. Ichigo had packet away his homework long before the two boys had shown up to make space for everyone.

"Now, do you know everyone?" Slughorn asked Harry and Neville. "Blaise Zabini is in your year, of course –"

The black boy who had been introduced as Zabini showed no sign of recognition. Neither did Longbottom or Potter.

"This is Cormac McLaggen, perhaps you've come across each other —? No?"

McLaggen, a large, wiry-haired youth, raised a hand, and Harry and Neville nodded back at him.

"—and this is Marcus Belby, I don't know whether —?"

Belby, who was thin and nervous-looking, gave a strained smile.

"— and this charming young lady tells me she knows you!" Slughorn finished.

Ichigo could see her grimacing to them, but he could not decipher whether it was meant as a smile or some sort of recognition.

"And this is Ichigo Kurosaki. Harry, I knew you met him during the summer, but what about you Mr. Longbottom?"

"Yes," Longbottom muttered, "I met him in Diagon Alley."

"Well now, this is most pleasant," Slughorn said cozily. "A chance to get to know you all a little better. Here, take a napkin. I've packed my own lunch; the trolley, as I remember it, is heavy on liquorice wands, and a poor old man's digestive system isn't quite up to such things… Pheasant, Belby?"

Belby started and accepted what looked like half a cold pheasant.

"I was just telling young Marcus here that I had the pleasure of teaching his Uncle Damocles," Slughorn told Potter and Longbottom, now passing around a basket of rolls. "Outstanding wizard, outstanding, and his Order of Merlin most well-deserved. Do you see much of your uncle, Marcus?"

Unfortunately, Belby had just taken a large mouthful of pheasant; in his haste to answer Slughorn he swallowed too fast, turned purple, and began to choke.

"Anapneo," said Slughorn calmly, pointing his wand at Belby, whose airway seemed to clear at once.

"Not… not much of him, no," the boy gasped, his eyes streaming.

"Well, of course, I daresay he's busy," Slughorn said, looking questioningly at Belby. "I doubt he invented the Wolfsbane Potion without considerable hard work!"

"I suppose…" Belby said, who seemed afraid to take another bite of pheasant until he was sure that Slughorn had finished with him. "Er… he and my dad don't get on very well, you see, so I don't really know much about…"

His voice tailed away as Slughorn gave him a cold smile and turned to McLaggen instead.

"Now, you, Cormac," Slughorn said, "I happen to know you see a lot of your Uncle Tiberius, because he has a rather splendid picture of the two of you hunting nogtails in, I think, Norfolk?"

"Oh, yeah, that was fun, that was," McLaggen said, "we went with Bertie Higgs and Rufus Scrimgeour; this was before he became Minister, obviously —"

"Ah, you know Bertie and Rufus too?" Slughorn beamed, now offering around a small tray of pies; somehow, Belby was missed out. "Now tell me…"

Ichigo frowned but no one seemed to notice because of his usual scowl. Slughorn's reaction was strange. Ichigo had thought the man was interested in getting to know the students, but apparently not everyone.

As time went by and the fat wizard moved on to "interview" the other students, it occurred to Ichigo that everyone who was invited knew someone with influence. Everyone besides the Weasley who was sitting in the corner.

Zabini's mom was known as a beautiful witch who had been married 7 times, and every time her husbands had died in mysterious ways and left her a significant amount of money.

Longbottom's parents had been well-known Aurors who had been tortured into insanity by Death Eaters. It was clear that the boy did not like talking about it, and would rather disappear into a small hole as Slughorn continued to ask him uncomfortable questions.

"Well, Ichigo," Slughorn said after he was done with Longbottom, "what does your parent's do?"

"My dad is a doctor," he said simply.

"Doctor? As in a muggle healer?"

Ichigo nodded. "Yes, he gave up being a captain when he met my mom, but he still wanted to help people, so he became a doctor."

"Aha. Well, you will have to excuse me if I'm asking a stupid question now, but what is a captain?"

"Err." Ichigo scratched his hair as he thought about the best way possible to explain what a captain was without revealing too much. "Our system is very different from yours. Where your society is more civil ours is more militaristic which means that-" He spent the next couple of minutes explaining how Seireitei was split into divisions, captains, and so on. He didn't mention what exactly their job entailed though.

Slughorn smiled warmly when Ichigo was done. "And you have plans to become a captain one day?"

The orange-haired teenager shrugged and leaned back in his seat. "Maybe, maybe not. I'll see what happens," he answered truthfully. Right now he didn't have any shinigami powers, but perhaps when he died, he would gain some of them back. He could always hope.

"Of course, you are young and have plenty of time to decide. That's what I always say: live life while you are young."

Then Slughorn turned to Harry Potter, the boy who lived. It was clear that he was the one the professor was most interested in. Ichigo had heard about him from Dumbledore and about how he continuously had fought against the dark lord, and about how he was now considered the new hope against the evil wizard. There were rumors circulating that Potter was destined to be the one who killed Voldemort. And that was exactly what Slughorn asked Potter, but Potter's friends, Longbottom and Weasley denied everything concerning any prophecy. Apparently they had been with him in the department of mysteries this summer.

The rest of the afternoon passed by with anecdotes about successful wizards and witches who had all had the pleasure of being students of Slughorn's and members of the Slug Club.

It wasn't until the train emerged from yet another long misty stretch into a red sunset that Slughorn looked around, blinking in the twilight. "Good gracious, it's getting dark already! I didn't notice that they'd lit the lamps! You'd better go and change into your robes, all of you. McLaggen, you must drop by and borrow that book on nogtails. Harry, Blaise — any time you're passing. Same goes for you, miss." He twinkled at the girl. "Well, off you go, off you go!"

When all the guests had left, Slughorn turned to Ichigo. "You'd better get dressed in your school robes too, Ichigo, you don't want to get a detention on your first evening, do you?"

No he did not.

When they arrived at Hogsmeade, Slughorn informed Ichigo that the first years would usually sail across the lake in small boats, but since Ichigo was going to be in 6th year, it was better if he took the carriages like the rest of the students. That seemed to be fair in the teenagers eyes as he would most likely feel quite awkward sitting in s a small boat surrounded by children much younger than himself.

When they came to the carriages which were being flooded by the excited students, Ichigo stopped dead in his tracks. In front of the carriages stood some kind of dark horses with skeletal bodies, faces with reptilian features, and wide, leathery wings.

His escort noticed his stop and arched an eyebrow at the teenager's stunned expression.

"You can see them?"

"Of course I can see them, they are right there!"

"They are called Thestrals, and not everyone can see them. They are only visible to those who have seen death."

Seen death? That would be in understatement in his case.

The ride op to Hogwarts went with Slughorn speaking about… something. Ichigo didn't really bother with paying attention to the old, fat wizard and was instead beginning to wonder what was for dinner.

When they got off the carriages, he followed the flock of students into the castle together with Slughorn. They came to a big hall with four long tables that were quickly filled with smiling and happy students, and a table where the teachers were sitting. Candles were floating around under the roof which looked like the night sky outside.

"It is enchanted," Slughorn said when he saw what Ichigo was looking at, "it is supposed to look like the sky outside. A fantastic weather forecast if you ask me. Well, you'd better follow me to the teacher's table for now. The first years are supposed to be sorted before you."

And so he did that. He could feel how several curious gazes drilled into his neck as he went over to the table and disappeared in the shadows.

After everybody had sat down, McGonagall arrived with a stool and an old hat, followed by what he assumed were the first years. She put the stool in the middle of the floor and put the hat on top of it.

Then the hat started singing.

Ichigo stared at it in disbelief. A singing hat? Who the hell came up with that?

It was singing something about standing your ground and work together against enemies. Everything sounded pretty reasonable in his ears. Without friends he would never have gotten as far as he had.

When the hat was done, McGonagall drew out a long list and started to read up names. However, she was interrupted shortly when the doors into the great hall opened and a giant man stepped in with an apologetic smile on his face. He sat down quickly on a chair by the teacher's table that looked like it was designed especially for him. McGonagall looked at him with disapproval before she started reading the names out loud again.

One by one the small first year students sat down on the stool and put the hat on their heads when their name was called. There they sat; some for a short while and some a bit longer; until the hat had decided which house the student should be placed in. Of course its decision had to be yelled out to everyone and everybody. With red ears and relief painted across their faces, they put the hat back on the stool and skipped nervously down to the table which were clapping and hooting as if they were spectators to a soccer game. He noticed the emblem on their robe changed color to match the house they were put in.

At last the last student had been sorted and Dumbledore stood up. Everyone became silent and Ichigo swore that if one dropped a pin, it would sound like thunder when it hit the floor.

"As some of you may have noticed," the headmaster began, "we have gotten some company in the form of Ichigo Kurosaki from Japan. In a minute he too will be sorted into a house like all of you. He has come here as an exchange student to learn our culture and our way of practicing magic. I expect you to treat him as any other student of Hogwarts'." Dumbledore turned to Ichigo next. "Please sit down on the stool and put on the hat.

With everyone's eyes on him, the former shinigami substitute on current Hogwarts student walked over to the stool and did like all the first years.

"Interesting," A voice said in his ear, "most interesting. I see courage and bravery in you, my boy, and that alone would have been enough to send you directly to Gryffindor, but…" The hat paused shortly, as if thinking before it spoke to him again. "You've come for a reason, am I correct?"

"Yes," he answered in a low voice. He didn't want the others to hear what he was saying. "I need power."

"In that case Gryffindor is not the place for you. However, there is another house I'm sure will fit you quite well. It is true that cunning and traditionalism are not of your qualities, but resourcefulness, ambition, and power is. Yes, there is no doubt that you belong in-

SLYTHERIN!" it bellowed and the table to the far left broke into clapping and rejoicing while the other tables looked crestfallen.

It was an indescribable strange feeling Ichigo had as he took off the hat and walked down to the Slytherin table. Once again he felt how eyes drilled into his neck, this time harder than before. Previously they were of curiosity, but this time the glares were filled with disappointment and detest.

It didn't really face him though. From what he had understood Slytherin was the place to get strong, and that was exactly what he needed. The purpose with his year here was to become stronger as he one again would be able to protect his friends, not matter the price. And if he had to live with the fact that a bunch of spoiled brats did not like him, then he couldn't really care less.

He sat down beside Blaise Zabini who had also been one of Slughorn's guests in the compartment earlier that day. The dark-skinned boy greeted him with a nod.

"And now," Dumbledore said," let us begin the feast!"

At once all the plates were filled to the brim with all kinds of food, and Ichigo quickly filled his plate with something that looked like rice. How he had missed it.

"So you are from Japan?" said a blonde boy who was sitting opposite of him."

Ichigo arched an eyebrow. "That should be clear, shouldn't it? And who are you?"

"Oh, excuse me for not introducing myself first, my name is Draco Malfoy. He reached out his hand.

Ichigo took it. "Ichigo Kurosaki."

"For a moment I actually though you were another Weasley," the boy said scornfully, "but of course, if you had been one of them you wouldn't be here in Slytherin. Besides, your hair is more orange; one would almost think you were a metamorphmagus."

"Yes, but I am not."

"I thought people from Japan had black or brown hair," a girl said. She was sitting beside the Malfoy boy and introduced herself as Pansy Parkinson.

"That is correct, and they don't like people who look just a little bit different," ichigo told them sourly.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Orange hair? Come on! People think it's dyed even though it is 100% natural. And orange hair in Japan is only something you have if you are a delinquent… or a popstar, and I'm neither."

Malfoy snorted. "Blaise said you went to a muggle school, poor you. At least here you won't be bothered by their narrow-mindedness."

For a moment Ichigo wondered when he had told Zabini that he went to high school, but then he remembered that it had actually been Slughorn who had told the other members of the Slug Club about how he had learned all the spells in Defense against the dark arts, transfiguration, and charms during the summer.

His thoughts were interrupted when the doors into the great hall opened yet again and Harry Potter stepped in, still dressed in muggle clothes and blood smeared across his face. With determination he marched all the way down to the Gryffindor table while people stared at him as if he was anything but a teenage boy.

"Ah yes." Malfoy smirked, "I almost forgot to tell you what happened on the train after you left…"

Judging by what the blonde boy said, it became perfectly clear to Ichigo that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy did not like each other. And after a few minutes it also occurred to him that he actually didn't like Malfoy either. He appeared to be one of those people who got everything on a silver platter. The kind of people he just couldn't take.

That was why he was the only one who didn't laugh when Malfoy told the story of how he owned Potter the third time. He didn't laugh the second of or the first time either.

"You missed the sorting," Hermione said.

"Hat say anything interesting?" Harry asked, taking a piece of treacle tart.

"More of the same, really… advising us all to unite in the face enemies, you know. But that's not really what I wanted to say."

Harry looked at her curiously while he took a bite of his pie.

"Do you remember when you told us about that exchange student?"

"Yes of course, where was he sorted? Rawenclaw?"

"No." She gave him a sad look. "Slytherin."

"What!" He looked at her in disbelief. "But he attends a muggle school in Japan. Dumbledore told me when we picked him up in the airport. How could he end up a place where they hate muggles?"

"I don't know," she said, "but perhaps he has been bullied by muggles in school and therefore does not like them? It is, after all, a bit unusual to have orange hair."

"Or maybe he is a prick," Ron commented with his mouth full of food, "it really shouldn't surprise me. See?" He pointed towards the Slytherin table where Malfoy was once again retelling how he broke Harry's nose. "He is just sitting there with the rest of them, having fun."

Harry followed Ron's finger and caught sight of Kurosaki, but the Japanese boy did not laugh. In fact, he looked like he didn't find any part of the story amusing. Harry could see him say something to Zabini who responded.

Then, it was as if he had felt Harry's gaze because the next moment he turned his head and looked straight into Harry's eyes. He shrugged, rolling his eyes before he turned his attention back to his food.

Weird. It was as if he had said sorry in that simple motion. But he was a Slytherin, and Slytherins were stuck-up people who only cared about themselves… but… the sorting hat had said that Harry would have done well in Slytherin… maybe… maybe it had said the same thing to Kurosaki, he just didn't know that he was able to choose another house.

It was a possibility.

Another possibility was that he, as Ron said, simply was nothing but a prick who didn't care about anyone but himself.

A/N: Finally! As mentioned in the prologue this story was requested. I was asked to do a hp/bleach fic with Ichigo in Slytherin. The rest was up to me. And here he is; in Slytherin xD

Please tell me what you think