I do not own Harry Potter.

There was something strange about the new kid. Blaise couldn't quite pinpoint exactly what it was, but there was something different about Harry Evans.

Blaise's parents weren't exactly the kindest of the bunch. They actually rather prided themselves with the fact that they were the Darker kind of Light. Blaise had grown up with that mentality and now he couldn't imagine his family any other way. They weren't saints and they did not think any lower of themselves if they ever bribed or lied or used somebody or something. It wasn't above them to use the people around them like pieces on a chessboard. It wasn't difficult to conclude that the Zabinis were on the darker side of the Light.

Yet, despite all of his experience with a less-than-moral life, Blaise knew that his family was nowhere near the level that the Dark had fallen to. His grandparents had initially supported and followed the Dark Lord before the Light barrier had gone up. They saw the grand vision that You-Know-Who had portrayed and firmly entrenched themselves in the cause. But Blaise's grandparents had had Light friends before they had decided to follow the Dark Lord and that had made all the difference. Their Light friends brought them back to their senses and they managed to escape the Dark's clutches just before the Light barrier had been erected. The Zabinis were not as rich or as influential as they had once been, but they were now free of the Dark's control and protected. Blaise had no doubt that if the Light barrier ever fell, his family would be one of the first targets. Betrayal, he had heard, was something the Dark Lord didn't tolerate.

Blaise's family wasn't the one to be in the situation. In fact, everybody in the Slytherin house came from the similar, if not the exact same, situation. All of them were Purebloods from an old and prestigious line that had once been desperate for their redemption by You-Know-Who's side. They had been strong, powerful, and Dark or, at the very least, Grey. All of their families had welcomed a more peaceful life within the Light boundaries, but redemption had come with a price. They were no longer trusted confidentials of those in power and they no longer had quite the influence or wealth that had garnered under the Dark. They had to repress their Dark magic as much as they could. It would be difficult, but they had sworn to only use Light magic in return for protection and haven. Over the next generations, their children would gain more affinity for Light and their Dark tendencies would cease to exist. They would gain their power and influence back, but only after they endured the switch from Dark to Light, which was a far more difficult process than turning Light to Dark.

Blaise understood all of that. And while he wasn't happy about future generations losing any sort of affinity towards the Dark, he knew that this was the best way. He had grown up trying to only use Light, but his parents' defection to the Dark had passed on to him and he couldn't help but sometimes give into his angry tendencies and exact revenge upon any of the other Light children at Hogwarts. He knew that he had to outgrow the Dark, but sometimes it was just so alluring he couldn't ignore it. He didn't want that for his children. He didn't want them to walk down the halls with accusing eyes constantly glaring them down and scoffing at their taint. He would miss the Dark, but all it could ever offer was pain and evil. Light was the only way to go now.

This mentality had been pounded into his head over and over, year after year. He had accepted it and gone forward. But something about Harry Evans was pushing him off-balance.

He had known the new kid for a grand total of twelve hours and had had only one conversation with him. The Fifth Year newcomer was, by all means, allegedly a blotch on the Slytherin record of a completely Pureblood household and he couldn't produce one spark of magic because he was the greatest shame of all magical shames, a Squib. Not even a Muggle could be worse. At least Muggles didn't have a chance of magic in their veins. Squibs had every chance but they merely had the unfortunate luck to be born without magic. It was the ultimate shame. Not even the goody Light Gryffindors could stand the sight of one. Squibs were pitiful beings born into a world of magic with none of their own. In a way, Blaise was rather pleased with the still-obvious rift between the two and he felt that they were being more than generous in their acceptance of Squibs into the school.

So in all accounts, Blaise should have despised Harry and shunned him. Everybody in the Slytherin House should have. But when they had heard the Sorting Hat's declaration, they couldn't help but feel a slight jolt of elation. They had gone for so long without another addition to their House that they had begun to fear the extinction of Slytherin. The decreasing amount of Dark in students had been becoming evident. The majority of Slytherins were older Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh Years. There were only about thirty First, Second, and Third Year Slytherins in total. Harry might have been a Fifth year, but they were happy to hear it. They would despise him later, but the novelty of a new member would last for at least a few weeks.

But it was deeper still. There something about Harry that just didn't work with the rest of them there. The Slytherins might have been out of place, but Harry was just cut from completely different cloth. Blaise didn't know what prompted him to think so. The boy was his age and nothing spectacular. He might have been a little more on the attractive side with his dark, messy hair, striking emerald eyes, and (oddly enough) aristocratic features, but that was the only thing that truly stood out. Harry walked with neither too much confidence nor too much timidity. He spoke only when he had to and Blaise could sense none of the typical Slytherin desire for power or manipulation. All in all, Harry Evans was seemingly normal.

That was what frustrated Blaise so much. There was something about Evans, but he just couldn't figure out what it was. It was rare that anything kept him awake at night, but the new kid had stirred something within him. His Darkness had been a little more restless the entire night and he had a strange idea that it had something to do with the newcomer. The only consolation he had was that he wasn't the one affected. He knew Astoria Greengrass had felt it too. That was why the two of them had spoken to the Squib at all. The rest of the House must have felt it as well, but they had not been sitting beside Harry during dinner and therefore had not had the same experience of directly interacting with the newest member.

Whatever it was, Blaise certainly didn't plan on overthinking it. He had spent one sleepless night too many on the Squib. Starting tomorrow, he would no longer plague his mind over it. He was a Slytherin and he knew better than to attach himself to anything that might prove detrimental to his future success.

~0~

Harry's very first day as a Slytherin Squib had been far milder than he had initially thought it would be. He knew people more inclined towards the Dark were viciously prejudiced, but he had been almost disappointed to see that nobody from the Slytherin House had so much as glanced in his direction the entire day. He supposed that the disinterested air about them could have been an attempt at contempt, but he knew the difference between intentional silence and just plain indifference. They couldn't have cared less about him. They weren't going to single him out for his lack of magic nor ostracize him. They accepted him, in a way, just not into their inner circles of deeper understanding. They treated him like they would have treated a stranger: polite, considerate, and detached.

It was so pathetically Grey. Not even. He had actually overestimated the Slytherin House. They weren't even Grey, in fact, just a severely watered down Light. That would be no fun. He had expected at least some of them to be harsher, but none of them were. It was like the Light had drained the life out of them. Harry knew what it was like to suppress Darkness and it was evident that they had been suppressing theirs for so long that they couldn't even recognize the Dark for what it truly was anymore. Harry could only fathom such a blatant disregard for their magical core's well being came from the need to adapt in the Light conditions that they lived in.

It made Harry sick.

Not even Blaise or Astoria had bothered to talk to him in the morning. He had thought that maybe they would say something about his complete lack of magic but they had only done the same as the rest. Maybe Harry had been reduced to a masochist during his time under Tom's influence, but he had been expecting and almost anticipating the prejudice. He had dealt with prejudice before and he knew how to use it to his advantage and ultimately crush those who dared to speak badly of him. Now he wouldn't have that fun dance of ideals. The Slytherins, Harry realized, might have been completely different from the moral population that occupied the majority of the school, but they were still barely worth any Dark attribution. They were trained snakes with all the poison gone from whatever chipped fangs they had left.

Harry had come to see that there was a dominant hierarchy of legitimate wizards and witches who avoided the "non-magicals". They might eat and walk in the same halls, but there was an undeniable rift between the two. On his first day, Harry studied Muggle subjects and theories. Witches and Wizards studied how to control their magic. Harry slept in separate rooms with, despite everybody's unwillingness to admit it, lower-quality accommodations. Squibs typically had a simple bed with white sheets and pillows in the color of their respective House. Wizards and witches had four-poster beds with drapes and elegantly styled bedspreads and sheets of emerald and silver. Harry was lucky enough (or unlucky enough) to be the only wizard in Slytherin so he had he Squib bathrooms to himself as well as a more luxurious bedroom with all of the extra space in the Slytherin dormitories. The other Squibs in the other Houses apparently had to share the one bathroom while the witches and wizards had one per Year. Harry had only gotten to choose from the dormitories furthest away from the windows offering views or the furthest from the entrances to the main arteries of the school despite Blaise's statement about being able to choose whichever room he wished. When the Squibs ate in the Great Hall, they sat furthest away from the professors' eating table at the front and crowded themselves towards the very back and edges. In short, even the Light had their prejudices veiled behind a thin cloak of kindness and apparent opportunity for non-magicals.

Harry wasn't complaining. He could have cared less whether his bed had been simple and the bathroom shared. He was used to a pampered lifestyle, but his training had been harsh and he had to endure much worse than simple accommodations.

Harry had to admit that he had sulked for the majority of the day. The Muggle subjects had been complete gibberish to him and the prospect of actually being behind in those classes irked him. His House's lack of hostility had just added to his bad mood and he had quickly discovered that it was best to avoid any contact with the other Houses' witches and wizards for now. They only jeered and laughed at him because he was a combination of the things they despised most. It was only the first day, but one particularly annoying Fifth Year Gryffindor wizard with revoltingly red hair had nearly caused him to lose control and lash out. Harry wasn't helpless – far from it. He had already stated it once: he didn't need a wand to defeat a wizard. It was only a matter of controlling himself. As safe as he was now from suspicion, he knew that just one slip-up would probably destroy all of that. If they knew he could retaliate, then he would just be more of a target. Harry had actually been looking forward to a kind welcoming from the Light side. It would have been a pleasant change from the frigid atmosphere in the Dark. Some form of compassion or brightness wouldn't have hurt and it made Harry a little sad to see that almost nothing had changed from one side to another.

It was only during dinner that his day took a turn for the better. He had just finished a Muggle class called Literature where they had to read books and write essays analyzing the themes and motives within the novels. It would have been a relatively easy class if he had known what "similes" and "metaphors" were. Only after the teacher explained it to him privately after class did he understand. It had been rather humiliating. The end result was his currently heightened sulky mood and thirst for some sort of outlet.

He settled down at the furthest edge of the table with all the wrath of his irritation and promptly subjugated a large piece of chicken to a beating with his knife and fork. He had to act his Squib part but that didn't keep him from torturing his meal. It gave him a strange sense of satisfaction to see his chicken in bits scattered around his plate. Harry sighed. It was only the first day and he was already cracking. How pitiable. Tom would be disappointed.

"Bad first day?"

Harry snapped his head up and saw Blaise's dark brown eyes scrutinizing his decimated meal. He couldn't help but smile a little in silent victory. Somebody was finally talking to him without the regular insults. Even Blaise's earlier aloofness in the morning had seemingly vanished. The way the other boy sat comfortably with his palms held open on the table indicated that this was a more casual conversation.

"A little," Harry grinned tiredly.

Blaise chuckled. "It's expected."

Harry sighed and poked at the chicken again. He waited for a few moments to test how far the other Slytherin was willing to carry this conversation. Blaise had sat down at the edge of the table where Squibs normally sat and away from his rightful position further up where Fifth Year wizards ate. He wouldn't just sit down here and have no ulterior motive. It was either that, or Harry was overestimating Slytherin House again.

Finally, the other Slytherin cleared his throat and placed a piece of chicken on his own plate. So he was here to stay for the remainder of the meal. Interesting.

"Are you going to attend the magical classes tomorrow?"

Harry nodded. "I'm sure it's going to be more interesting than Literature and Mathematics."

"Litteradure and Madamadics?"

That pulled a grin on to Harry's face. "Never mind."

Blaise seemed to scrutinize him for a moment before he blurted, "I'm not so sure you should take magical classes."

Ah. Was this the prejudice Harry had been expecting?

"Why?"

"The other Houses won't like it," Blaise promptly said. "They'll ridicule you. They'll take advantage of your…disadvantage. What can you gain from going to one of those classes anyway?"

That was well worded. He was using the other Houses' hostility as a mask over the true purpose of this conversation. "I might not be able to perform magic, Blaise, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy learning about it. What's wrong with a Squib just learning about magic? I'm sure you understand. After all, Slytherin sticks up for its own and its so much more advanced than the other Houses that their opinion doesn't matter anyway. If it doesn't matter to the House, then why should it bother me? I'll be fine. I must thank you for your concern, though."

If Harry looked closely enough, he could see Blaise's left eye twitch the smallest bit before he replied. "But you are our first Squib. How do you know you'll be alright?"

"There are other Squibs here," Harry dismissed. "Surely some of them take the magical classes."

"The Squibs don't take the magical classes despite the opportunity. They place their efforts into something they can benefit from."

Harry smiled pleasantly. This was mildly fun. It was almost half as interesting as one of his conversations with Tom. "Then I won't be afraid to be the first. It would benefit me, after all, to know the theory behind the magic all of you practice. If I'm to live in a world with so many gifted, then I should learn about those gifts."

Blaise saw he was taking the wrong approach and he quickly changed the subject. "I don't think you'll want to see us when we do magic. We are…a little more vicious than the other Houses, especially in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"But you won't do any Dark magic. It's just defense. You will only be Light magic."

Blaise narrowed his eyes. "You don't know that, Harry."

Was that a challenge? That last sentence had certainly seemed a little more on the threatening side than the trend had been for the conversation. Harry grinned a little wider and subtly stretched his magic to taste Blaise's own. He couldn't use the magic in a spell right now, but using it to sense his surroundings was such a primal use that he could do so even under the Light barrier. The other Slytherin's magic was…dull. Ill. It was essentially Dark, but the lack of use was slowly killing it and making room for different magic, Light magic, to worm its way in. Harry almost scowled at such a waste of potential and realized that the magic was being suppressed not out of habit or situation, but out of voluntary decision.

Overwhelming anger turned Harry's vision red. He finally understood. This wasn't Dark adaptation at all. This was a purge. This was a complete destruction of many Dark legacies that could continue and become great. There was a common misconception about the Light and Dark. True, the Dark often brought sadistic bastards to their side, but it wasn't rooted in evil. There were those strong enough to conquer the allure and use Dark magic to their will. It just so happened to be that those few select strong enough with a Dark core were power-hungry megalomaniacs. In some ways, Dumbledore could be described as a power-hungry megalomaniac with the façade of morality backing him up. Or maybe that was just Harry's biased hatred for the man acting up again. Either way, it seemed like Blaise was purposely starving his Dark magic probably because he had the idea that Dark magic was evil and had to be avoided at all costs. It was more than likely that the rest of the Slytherin House was doing the exact same thing.

Harry couldn't let this continue. The reason why he had been so close to cracking his very first day was because he hadn't had a clear goal in his mind yet. Sure, he had decided to play with whatever was here but that had been a vague idea. Now he knew what he wanted to do and it was challenging enough to keep him occupied for quite a while. Harry glanced over at the other Squibs morosely staring at their plates with thin smiles at the other tables and realized that he had two potential projects on his hands.

The goals bloomed in his mind and he had to suppress a wicked smile from erupting over his face. Shunned Squibs starving for recognition and a suppressed Slytherin House just begging to release their Dark magic? The Light had just created its own recipe for disaster. Harry would just be the catalyst to make it all happen. Perhaps this way, he would be able to give himself both entertainment and maybe even real friends.

"Hey, Harry? Are you listening to me?"

Harry looked back into Blaise's eyes and saw just how much he was hiding his true nature, his true magic. If he hadn't been sulking all day, he probably would have noticed it sooner. "I'm sorry. What were you saying?"

"I was just wondering if you were okay. You sort of blanked out for a moment there."

Harry gave the other Slytherin his most brilliant smile and answered, "I'm perfectly fine, Blaise. Everything is just perfect."

Yay, finally another chapter :) This really does help me take my mind off things.

Just in case you're curious, here's a vague timeline of what happened:

1) Tom Riddle attends Hogwarts, making allies as he goes.

2) Tom makes his debut as Dark Lord Voldemort on his first raid.

3) Voldemort amasses followers over a course of about twelve years as well as taking over the Ministry of Magic. (It may not be accurate according to the original storyline but I didn't actually memorize the exact # of years so that was just a rough estimate since I did say that Blaise's grandparents were the ones to get to know Tom [in his Hogwarts years, mind you] and they had his parents sometime a little before Tom makes his debut so it has to be a at least a decade because his parents need to be old enough to have him a little after the Light barrier went up.)

4) The Light barrier is erected by Light Lord Dumbledore which protects all Light witches and wizards left as well as refugees from the Dark side.

5) Voldemort kills Lily and James Potter (for reasons I'll mention later) and takes Harry as his Horcrux during a raid on Godric's Hollow (which failed to be included in the Light barrier during July 31st for reasons I'll mention later).

6) The Dark refugees agree to only use Light magic under the Light's protection.

7) Harry escapes the Dark and goes to the Light fourteen years later.