Chapter 6

D/C: Let me say it in simple English: me no own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does. It's as simple as that.

Sometime After the Start of the Term Feast: Headmaster's Office

Something in Albus Dumbledore's bones had told him it was not going to be a very quiet night, and yet again his intuition had not been proven wrong. Sitting in his grand office, surrounded by whirling gadgets, whistling devices, and other curious things, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry looked to be the picture of calm...

A calm that, evidently, none of his esteemed colleagues shared.

"Mr. Dumbledore sir, what could this mean...?"

"Obviously, this must be a joke," Potions Master Severus Snape flatly said.

"That is not what Hagrid meant," Transfiguration Professor Minerva McGonagall heatedly said.

"Oh? What is that now?" Snape asked with an inquiring brow. "Were the both of you not disappointed when Potter did not end up in your esteemed house?"

Groundskeeper Hagrid stared unhappily at the floor; McGonagall's eyes simply narrowed.

"I would indeed be lying if I were to say that I was not," The tall black haired witch affirmed, "But my expectations are not at issue, nor are they relevant at this point in time. Mr. Potter is not his father, Severus-"

"Oh, but how I beg to differ," The Potions Professor interrupted. "He is certainly James Potter in miniature - no doubt just as arrogant-"

"Arrogant?!" Hagrid roared.

"-Thinking the world revolves around himself. In any case, I will not abide to have a Potter under my wing - son of a man with delusions of grandeur."

The diminutive Charms Professor, Filius Flitck, stared aghast.

"Severus, surely you can not be thinking of begrudging the boy for the actions of his father? I am well aware of the animosity you had towards James, but to redirect it to his son-!"

"That is simply barbaric," The stout Herbology Professor, Pomona Sprout, chipped in. "Although it was a surprise for me as much as it was for the everyone else, I can honestly say that Mr. Potter does not deserve the ire you seem so determined to have towards him."

"Speaking of barbaric, what of your wayward student? What was her name again...Susan Bones?"

Professor Sprout spluttered.

"I - I did not condone her course of action this night, but I do understand how she felt from the heart. Perhaps her reaction was extreme, but the Weasley boy's outburst was as equally uncalled for and unjust. 'Scarheaded traitor' isn't exactly the sort of comment I'd appreciate to hear others call my friends."

"So, Potter actually has a friend...?"

"Oh, don't you even think about that, Severus!" The stout professor growled, jumping out of her seat. "If you so much as threaten my student or Mr. Potter for being friends, I promise you I will-"

"Calm yourself, Pomona. I'm sure Professor Snape had no intention of doing that."

Professor Snape fidgeted slightly under the Headmaster's gaze.

"Headmaster," Hagrid began once more uncertainly, "I'm not too certain he were meant for Slytherin House-"

"I concur," Snape conceded.

"-But not fer the reasons yeh might think," The giant quickly said, restraining the urge to growl. "Yeh saw the other students - yeh heard all the names! Almos' all o' them went up in revolt! None o' them know Harry - not like Professor McGonogall, or Miss Susan, or I do. It's jes not right! Harry don' deserve that sort o' treatment..."

"I must agree," Flitwick admitted.

"And I expect you'd like to put him on a pedestal, glorify the world with his celebrity presence...?"

Hagrid turned a nasty shade of red. He had to be restrained from walloping the snarky professor in the face.

"Perhaps he should be resorted?" The Potions Professor mused (ignoring the instantaneous glares he was receiving from all around.)

The Headmaster regretfully shook his head.

"You know the laws, Severus, and you know the decision of the Sorting Hat is absolute. Not even I have the power to change what it has decreed - Harry Potter shall remain in Slytherin House."

"Pity," Snape shrugged. "It's only too bad Potter won't reach his full potential in my house."

"Severus," Dumbledore warned.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" McGonagall interrupted with darkening eyes.

"Whatever you think it means," The professor coolly replied.

This time, Hagrid and McGonagall snapped.

All further debate deteriorated into a spat of yells. The Headmaster knew nothing was going to be achieved during this teacher's meeting, and deep down inside he felt resigned. If this night was a portent of anything, then this was going to be a long and tumultuous year...

--

In The Mean Time: Hufflepuff Dorms, First Year's - Girl's Wing...

"Susan...?" Her blonde best friend began hesitantly.

"I can't believe them," The redhead fumed, shoulders stiff with vexation. She was making quite a spectacle of herself, unpacking the contents of her trunk with unnecessary violence and force. "First they worshipped him as the savior of our world - and now that he's in Slytherin they treat him as the villain. What right do they have calling him a traitor?!"

Hannah Abbott winced from behind the bed curtains as her best friend proceeded to slam objects across the nearest table top. None of the other girls sharing their dormitory dared to show their faces and make a target of themselves - not after the Weasley boy foolishly proclaimed the "scar-head" a "traitor." Susan Bones had whipped out her wand and hexed the boy silly, breaking several school rules and a record - fifty points from Hufflepuff and detention with her Head of House - all before the school term had begun! The older years of Hufflepuff House would've been furious had they not bore witness to the redhead's wrath...

It wasn't anything Hannah hadn't already seen, having been childhood friends with her from the start - but it'd left quite the impression on everyone else! The teacher's had gone agog, and even the unflappable Harry Potter had looked shocked - or had he been pleased? She didn't really know - but in any case, people had noticed, and now there would be plenty of whispers in the hall.

No doubt they would become the locus of interest for several weeks to come - Harry and Susan, that was. Harry for being a Slytherin, and Susan for being the Hufflepuff who defended him. The petite blonde could only imagine the things she'd hear from the grapevine - of gossip and speculation, a great deal of it untrue. She had already heard a little rumor about a childhood crush - all utter rubbish, as far as Hannah knew, and she knew a lot.

The Susan she grew up with was not an impractical girl - she would not have reacted as she did to such a baseless thing as a petty little crush. No, the Susan she knew was loyal to a fault - and fiercely so for her friends. It was not merely a question of who Harry was to the young Heiress of Bones.

Rather, it was a question of-

"How long?"

And when?

Susan paused long enough from her trunk to regard her inquisitive best friend, who was laying upside on her own bed.

"How long, what?" The redhead calmly asked, hoping against hope that it wasn't about that.

"How long have you been..."

That was as far as Hannah ever got before her friend intervened.

"Oh, God," Susan swore in exasperation, "Tell me it hasn't gotten to you too..."

"I'm not going on about the stupid crush," The blonde lazily drawled. "I was asking you how long you knew him...And when and where. You know I don't believe all those silly rumors, right?"

"Oh? Then what were all those pointed looks you kept giving us, hmm?" The redhead shot back in a dry and sarcastic tone. "Was that simply you being you, or did I just imagine all of that?"

Hannah sniffed.

"Nearly eleven years of friendship and this is how you receive me - with doubt. Humph! Don't talk to me."

The blonde made a show of turning her back on her friend. Her shoulders were rigid, her head held up high - but it was not an entirely convincing act. The blonde kept shooting quick glances over her shoulder, betraying the not-so-subtle upturn of a pink lipped smile.

"You're smiling," The redhead declared in a sing song tone.

"No I'm not," Her friend sang back. "Now don't talk to me, don't talk to me!"

"If you insist," Susan shrugged, turning away to unpack her trunk. She did not wait long when a pink throw pillow came flying at her head. "My, my same old Hannah - petulant to the very end."

"It's not like you want me to ever change," The blonde simpered, sitting up to undo the braids of her honey blonde hair. "And besides, isn't it the duty of the best friend to be incredibly nosey? Especially when it comes to the mysterious boyfriend whom even I knew nothing of, huh?"

A frown momentarily eclipsed Susan's smile.

"We're eleven years old, Hannah - not seventeen. And he's not my boyfriend...," She added quickly.

"Yet," The blonde retorted in reply. "Madam Bones Potter...Yes, that has a nice ring to it..."

"You make it sound like he's marrying my aunt," Deadpanned the girl. "I don't want to dream about that, please..."

"Okay...," Hannah agreed. "I'll quit talking...But only if you quit stalling. Now spill - I want to hear exactly how you became friends with Harry Potter. Out of the simple concern of being your best friend, of course."

"...And not out of concern that he's in Slytherin?" Susan asked.

"Well, I...," Hannah hemmed and hawed, "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't surprised. Weren't you?"

"A bit. I thought he might end up in a Ravenclaw."

"Were you disappointed?" Hannah pressed.

She was rewarded with a withering look.

"Of course not," The redhead glared. "Harry is still Harry, whether he is in Slytherin or not. And regardless of what everyone else might think, there's nothing they could do make me change my mind."

A pause.

"He must've made quite the impression on you," The petite blonde intoned seriously. "You are so much like your aunt - loyal, steadfast, and caring..."

Susan flushed - she looked distinctly pleased.

"...Just not as old or cantankerous. Maybe a bit overprotective, if your little fireworks display was any indication."

Hannah barely ducked in time to avoid the return of her throw pillow.

"You talk too much," Susan huffed.

"That I do," Her erstwhile friend roguishly agreed. "Enough for the both of us. Enough for all three of us, as a matter of fact. Say, do you suppose he would've made a good 'Puff?"

"Why certainly," The redhead beamed, flashing her usual smile. "He didn't even know me when he first met me, but he still went out of his way to cheer me up when I was feeling down."

The irrepressible blonde whistled and gave a nod.

"Well, I guess he passes then."

"What?"

"The best friend test," The blonde expressed in a matter of fact tone. "You're a good judge of character, Susan, and if you say he's a nice person then I'll place my faith in him as well. I might not know much about him yet, but I know that you wouldn't have stood up for him if you didn't have a good reason for it. Even if you had to get yourself thrown into detention for it."

"Thanks, Hannah."

"No problem. Best friends, and all that," She chirped as Susan enveloped her in a hug. "Now, weren't you about to tell me how you two met?"

"Let's make ourselves comfortable," The redhead said, claiming the unoccupied space on Hannah's bed, "This might take a little time, just so you know..."

"I love bedtime stories," Hannah grinned.

"I know you do."

--

Approximately an Hour After: Slytherin Dorm's, First Year's - Boy's Wing...

Harry lay awake on his back, staring up at the curtained roof of his canopy bed. Staring into the all encompassing darkness wasn't quite like staring up at the void of a starless night sky. It just didn't appeal to him; it just wasn't the same - it just left him...Hollow, on the inside.

Staring up at the night skies had always been a habit of his when he'd been residing with the Dursleys. In the cupboard (and sometimes in the confines of his own room) the moonlit shadows had made him feel small and alone - entrapped in a cage of his own making. Under the veil of the blackened heavens he felt exhilarated and alive - he felt content, and he felt...

"...Free," He said out loud.

Several beds down, Crabbe (or was it Goyle? Amidst the darkness it was very hard to tell) snored in his sleep. There was a rustle of silk sheets and a mutter from the sleeping Malfoy, and once again all was silent. Nothing but the soft low breaths of several sleeping young boys.

It was worse than total silence, and he was feeling restless. Minutes fell off the clock...

He just could not sleep.

Harry quietly padded out of the darkened dorm and headed down the single cold gray corridor to the Slytherin common room. Soft green lamps lit up along the way as he passed, greeting him into a well furnished antechamber filled with silky silver and green tapestries and carved high back seats. The fire grate had already been lit - judging by the continual crackling of the flames, chimney recess had been left that way for some stretch of time.

"Fire is such an interesting thing."

Harry nodded, not even bothering to otherwise acknowledge the cool blonde lounging on a seat by the hearth. She looked the same as she had on the Hogwart's Express - tall and regal for her age, with a distinctive tint of cold apathy in her slanted hawk eyes. Even with the fire's light reflected in her eyes, there was no warmth in her gaze - only a clinical indifference.

"Such beauty it contains - it would enrapt us, draws us forth and deceive us...And yet we admire it all the same. It would burn as all, whether we love it or not."

"So it would," The boy agreed.

"Such is the nature of power," Daphne Greengrass concluded. Her eyes shifted lazily upon the youth staring into the hearth. "But you would know all about that, wouldn't you?"

Harry felt a strange sense of foreboding towards the girl.

"I won't even pretend to understand what you mean, but you are entitled to whatever you choose to believe."

"Are you saying my opinion doesn't matter?" Daphne asked, more for the sake of pressing the conversation.

"No, only the opposite," The boy said, crossing his legs as he sat down before the fire. "It is important to have faith in what you believe. Whether I choose to agree with it is something else entirely."

"You are quite an enigma," The ice princess loftily said. "You, The-Boy-Who-Lived, residing in the same house as the Dark Lord who slew your parents that fateful night of October. That might be one of the reasons why the Gryffindors reacted so violently at the Sorting Hat's proclamation - your parents were proud Gryffindors, you know. Most people in the hall assumed you'd be in that house. Even the Hufflepuffs were surprised."

Harry sat silent, taking the information in. He hadn't known his parents were in that house...

"Gryffindors, you say? I see. Thank you for that tidbit of information."

"...You are most peculiar indeed. Does it not bother you how anyone reacted to your Sorting? The Hufflepuffs, the Ravenclaws, the Gryffindors...The Slytherins? Are you so oblivious to the opinions of the other students - some who you'll be seeing for the next seven years? And what of the teachers? You can't possibly pretend that they didn't react..."

She had a point, Harry had to admit that. Not about the teachers (although Hagrid and McGonagall's aghast expressions had secretly hurt him) - he was sure that despite their misgivings they would be much more professional than that. As for the students, however - he couldn't quite count on them for the same. He knew all he needed to know about ill will from his days at home and at school - how it could fester for years, and how often it spilled over to friends. Too often it had happened in Magnolia Elementary, when people tried to extend him a hand. Dudley's gang would target them simply for the fact that they had wanted to be Harry's friend.

Well, that wasn't going to happen any more - Harry would see to that.

"Oh, it bothers me - don't ever think that it doesn't," He calmly enthused. "I might not look it, but I take those things very seriously. So long as they don't bother me or my...Friend, I really could care less for what they think. But that doesn't mean I'll let them to walk over us, though."

"That Hufflepuff girl certainly didn't. Not that I mind seeing a stupid Gryffindor getting hexed, but that was a little unrefined for the Scion of the House of Bones..."

Fleeting emotion flashed across his features, a little too quick for even the Slytherin to catch.

"Regardless of how you might feel, I am grateful for her," He honestly said.

"Hmmph. So the rumors are partially true. A Slytherin consorts with a Hufflepuff."

Daphne could not make out the meaning of the boy's level look.

"You say that as if it were something to disdain," Harry said.

"Disdain?" She asked with an elegant brow. It was not a convincing gesture. "If you hadn't noticed already, I choose to keep my personal opinions to myself. I am merely commenting on that which I observe."

The boy gave a snort.

"I would've expected that answer from a Ravenclaw."

"It did occur to the Sorting Hat to place me there," Daphne allowed, "But Slytherin House is where I was meant to be."

"How can you be so sure?" Harry countered, concealing a smirk at the girl's scandalized look. "We are still young. Too young to actually know where the future leads."

"Even before I got my letter I already knew where I wanted to be," The blonde Slytherin spoke with deceivingly soft dulcet tones. "Though I'm a little surprised that you, The-Boy-Who-Lived, did not. You seem...A lot more mature for your age. Like the spirit of a wizened man living in a child's body. I have this strange feeling that you know more than you let on..."

She trailed off as the boy stood up. Instead of leaving as she'd originally thought, the boy dragged one of the large overstuffed sofa's over by the fire. The fact that he was able to do it without any assistance was not lost upon the observant girl.

"...I stand corrected. There's definitely more than you let on."

"Like I said before, believe what you want," He said as he laid himself down on the cushions. "It's long past curfew, but just to let you know."

"Of course I already knew that. But my, my, I wasn't aware it was getting so late. Perhaps we shall talk another time - but until then, I bid you a good night," Daphne bowed herself out.

"'Night," The boy replied.

A half hour of tossing and turning passed and sleep still eluded the enigmatic dark haired boy. Harry chanced a glance at the mantle clock. It was one past midnight, and he had simply too much energy to just drop off. Giving up sleep as a bad job, Harry pondered how best to occupy his time.

"Can't go to sleep, but I can't go wandering about - much as I'd like to. It is long past curfew - no doubt they'll have people patrolling the halls. I really shouldn't risk getting caught this early in the year. But then again, since when did I ever abide by the school rules...?"

Harry banked down the fire until it was nothing more than smoke and ash. Hidden away in darkness, Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on the familiar tug of his magical core, drawing upon it from within. He was a little surprised by the difficulty of the task - he had not had this sort of resistance practicing his vanishing back at the Dursley's home. The strenuous sensation felt somewhat like struggling under water, just without the unpleasant drowning effect. By the time he had the rippling flow of his own magic under seamless control, the boy felt winded and out of breath.

"Now this must be what it feels to swim underwater wearing weights," He muttered as his fingertips began to fade with a tingle. "Still, I could use the practice and a challenge..."

His fingers were next to fade, then his forearm, then his entire arm, and then the rest of his body followed suit, petering out into a fine mist. He didn't remember drawing out his wand during the process, but the familiar icy pulse of the hemlock wand guided him all the way through until his whole body had faded from sight, down to the very last hair on top of his head.

Harry took brief stock to catch his bearings before leaving the Slytherin Common Room into the outer hall. Like a moth he flitted along the torch lit corridors, stopping only long enough to add to the mental lay out of the school mapped out in his mind.

His presence went unnoticed - several prefects passed him by on regular intervals, and his Head of House, one Severus Snape (a tall forbidding man with perpetually greasy hair and a dark scowl) swept past him on a staircase leading to the upper floors. Mr. Filch, one of the school caretakers, almost bumped into him stepping out of a secret passageway hidden behind a false wall. His constant companion, a cat named Miss Norris, was nowhere to be seen.

Barring several other near run-ins, the boy had the school practically to himself. In two hours time, Harry had explored the kitchens, the library, several classrooms, and much of the upper halls. He visited the owlery (and spent some time with his snowy owl Hedwig) and walked up the Astronomy Tower (which he left not so soon afterwards, after capturing a good long glimpse of the milky white stars above.)

His lone wanderings abruptly ended on the way down the high tower, where trouble inevitably reared its ugly head - in the form of a mangy red eyed cat. Miss Norris was hidden beneath the foot of the stairs, nearly out of sight - if not for quick wits and reflexes, Harry would've been left with one squashed cat. He was forced to leap right over the little miscreant - and his shoes impacted the smooth stone floor with a squeak and a dull thud.

It wasn't too surprising that the wiley cat noticed.

"Meow," It said.

Harry felt the hairs stand up at the back of his neck as he hastily made a move - the feline's eyes were alert and attentive. Its piercing gaze did not waver - its attention was riveted solely upon him.

Harry did what came natural to him - he ran, and the cat followed. Try as he might, the boy could not shake off the persistent wild eyed cat. He cut across corners, tore down passageways, and fled through several hidden doors - and still the little pest trailed doggedly at his wake. The cat hesitated, however, as he stole down a long corridor of one of the upper floors.

The door at the very end of the musty hall had a large lock. Remembering what he'd previously practiced from the Standard Book of Spells, Harry tapped the rusting thing with his wand and incanted a single command.

"Alohamora!"

The lock sprung open just as Miss Norris decided to tear down the hall. She made it just in time as Harry leapt in and swung the door shut.

"Persistent little one, aren't you?" He calmly intoned.

The cat glared defiantly up at the boy...

A thunderous growl shook the confines of the room. Compelled by a strange mixture of horror and curiosity, cat and boy turned slowly as one to the source of the bellowing sound...

Only to find themselves faced with the baleful yellow eyed gaze of a monstrous black dog. Two more pairs of yellow eyes blinked sleepily at the third's continual growls, and two extra noses flared and twitched to life. Harry remembered a little late the warning Dumbledore gave concerning the corridor on the third floor...

"Oh. A Cerebus," He said in deceivingly calm shock.

The great three headed dog lurched forward, fangs bared - and skidded to a halt as the rest of its body refused to move. The two other heads growled sleepily in protest, and the third gnashed its teeth in annoyance. In the ensuing confusion, Harry barley noticed that it was standing on an innocuous trapdoor.

As the Cerebus struggled to come fully awake, Harry took his chance. The boy bolted out the door and slammed it shut. A panicked yowl and a skitter of claws on wood reminded him of Miss Norris. Against his better conscience (or so he might've thought), Harry reached from around the door and snatched the petrified cat just as the Cerebus began to charge.

With a hasty incantation of the locking charm, Harry sped down the third corridor, Miss Norris frozen in his hands. Just as he cleared the hall, the door rang with a mighty crash. Much to the boy's relief, the heavy rusted lock held. The Cerebus gave a single muffled roar - and then nothing.

Harry slumped against the wall, feeling exhausted and burned out.

"I'm visible again," He muttered with an astounded breath, "And you," He addressed the shivering lump of fur in his arms, "Owe me for this."

Miss Norris hissed and glared.

"What is with that look?" The boy inquired, initiating a stare down with the cat. "I didn't make you go into that room - you leapt right on after me, remember? I daresay I saved your life."

"Sigh. What a night...One dilemma after another," He muttered, examining his hand. The tips of his fingertips faded slightly, but the boy found himself incapable of accomplishing any more. Vanishing was no longer an option for this nightly trek; he had neither the concentration nor the magic reserves to maintain his own invisibility any further.

The boy dropped his hand in disgust.

"Fine mess I got myself into. Don't suppose there's a hidden passageway down to the Slytherin Common Room...," He mused aloud to himself.

A tug of tiny teeth at his robes brought his attention back to the pesky little scamp.

"What is it...?"

The cat didn't answer - it just padded the rest of the way out of the corridor and down a flight of steps. Miss Norris stopped at the very bottom and turned its head to look back his way. Harry blinked.

"You want me to follow? You aren't about to lead me into trouble, are you?"

The cat rolled its eyes and shook its furry little head.

"Hang on...There isn't really a hidden passageway down to the dungeons, is there?"

An impatient swish of the cat's tail urged the green eyed wonder to follow.

"Are there many hidden passageways?" He whispered as they crept stealthily past the darkened Great Hall.

Not missing a step, the cat gave a decisive nod. Harry was intrigued.

"Do you know them all?"

Another nod. The scruffy black and gray cat stopped between two suits of armor and a tapestry. It began pawing the frayed yellow cloth.

Taking the cue, Harry gently braced his shoulder against the solid looking front and discovered a hidden false wall.

"Forgive me for asking, but why are you helping me?" Wondered the boy.

The cat began pawing at the air.

There was a tiny blue strand, no thinker than a hair, connected the cat's paw and Harry's hand. It was faint, so faint it was nearly invisible to the naked eye - but at a touch the boy felt the familiar tug of his own magic from within. The cat did not wait for further questions - there were footsteps approaching from the blind corner around the hall.

Miss Norris stepped through the tapestry with Harry following suit. The false wall slid silently into place, and the patrolling prefect passed them by none the wiser. Several detours and winding corridors later, cat and boy emerged at the foot of the Slytherin Common Room.

"Thank you," Harry bowed. "Although I still don't understand why you helped me, your aid was most appreciated."

Miss Norris padded down the hall to leave.

"If I might be so bold, could you show me how to get around the castle some other day? As a favor, of course."

The wild eyed feline froze. It's little face contorted unpleasantly, as if resisting some invisible force. The fragile magic link between them flared and the cat mewled. In the end, Miss Norris gave a decidedly jerky and grudging nod.

"I really appreciate that. Thanks again."

Harry favored the feline with a polite nod, and Miss Norris stalked away around a bend. The boy muttered the password ("Pureblood," He spat) and stumbled into the common room. He dragged himself onto his appointed couch and surrendered himself promptly to sleep, not knowing he had just secured a life debt from the cantankerous caretaker's cat.

A/N: Finally have DSL internet up and running. What a goddamned chore! They said it was easy, but...Anyway, sorry for the wait. Thank you for your patience. Hope this was worth the wait!