Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any claims of ownership.
Additionally, this story features offensive language and imagery, proceed at your own discretion.
A Gilded Cage
Part 1
Harry Potter had no idea what to expect, stepping onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, but a gorgeous red steam locomotive wasn't quite what he thought he'd see. Maybe a dull grey one, or perhaps a black one.
The boy he'd followed - Ron, his mum called him - gave Harry a small smile, and then started walking off.
The other members of the redheaded family were talking a little ways away. One of the identical twins was laughing at something a guy who looked a bit like a sloth was saying.
The train's whistle blared, and Harry jumped. Magic was described to him as just another way of life, but actually seeing it was completely different.
Gripping his trolley's handlebar, he followed after Ron into the train. The other boy steadily moved along, looking through the windows.
A lot of the compartments they passed were already full of people. The only compartment they could find that was near-empty was at the back of the train and already had a girl inside.
Ron opened the door, and the Aryan girl took her gaze from the window to Ron.
"Is anyone sitting there?" He pointed at the seat across from the blonde girl. "Everywhere else is full."
The girl stared at them with a blank expression, her eyes flicking from Ron to Harry, who'd just appeared over his shoulder. Slowly, the girl nodded. Ron shot Harry an awkward smile and went in, pulling his luggage along with him and using as much strength as a scrawny thirteen year-old could to put his bags on the rack above the seat - which wasn't much.
While Harry was battling his bags much as Ron had, footsteps pounded into the compartment behind them.
"Hey, Ronniekins!"
Ron dropped his case on his foot, yelping in pain. The duo in the doorway laughed.
It was the identical twins.
"Do you need any help with that?" one of them asked, looking amused.
"Yeah," Ron said.
"Right, come on, Fred." The twins stepped over and heaved the luggage up onto the rack.
"And to think that we're the ones helping ickle Ronnie, George."
"Quite right, Fred. Percy would be horrified," the newly dubbed George replied.
They looked at Ron.
"Do you wanna join us in the middle of the train, then?" Fred asked his younger brother.
"Cassius got some photos from his dad he's looking to show off," George said.
Ron paled slightly, muttering that he was good.
The twins laughed at some joke that only the three of them understood.
"Angsthase!" one of them said, and Ron's face went red.
They left, closing the door behind them.
Harry sat down next to the blonde girl, having managed to put his luggage on the rack during the twins entrance. Oddly, her expression hadn't changed at all.
He wondered if she was a bit slow.
Ron sat down across from Harry and the nameless girl. No one said anything for a moment.
Then, "Typically, it's the man who's to introduce themselves first," she said.
Ron coughed and said, "Ron Weasley," looking embarrassed.
The girl nodded and turned her blue-eyed stare onto Harry.
"Oh, er, Harry Potter," Harry said, realizing that he didn't quite know what to do with his hands.
Ron's eyes went wide, and even the girl looked surprised.
"You're Harry Potter?" Ron blurted, looking at Harry with something akin to awe.
"Yeah," Harry said, settling for putting his hands in his pockets.
"Do you… Do you really have the scar?" Ron asked and the girl frowned at him. He didn't seem to notice, or just ignored her.
"Yeah," Harry said again, pushing his hair up to show that he did indeed have that lightning bolt scar.
"Erstaunlich!" Ron exclaimed. He leaned forward. "So that's where Grindelwald-"
"Yes," Harry interrupted, "But I don't remember it."
"Nothing?" Ron asked eagerly.
Harry shook his head, catching a glimpse of the girl's interested face.
Ron looked like he was going to say more but the girl cut in first.
"Daphne Greengrass," she introduced. She looked at Harry. "Is it true you live with Übermenschen?"
Ron curiously turned to Harry.
"Yeah, they aren't great."
Ron gasped, an alarmed expression on his face. He shot a look at the door like he was expecting someone to burst in at any moment.
"Not all of them!" Harry amended with a wince. He lifted his owl, Hedwig's, cage into his lap. "Just my relatives, really."
"Do you play Quidditch?" Ron asked, steering their conversation back onto safer ground. Even Daphne looked relieved at the topic change.
"What's Quidditch?" Harry asked. He'd only ever heard of the word in passing.
"Only the best sport in the world!" Ron gleefully exclaimed. He regarded Daphne. "What team do you support?"
"I don't play," she said flatly.
Ron gaped and Harry cracked a smile.
"Do you at least watch it?"
"No. I much prefer using magic than watching people use it."
"Do you know any spells?" Harry asked Daphne.
"Of course," Daphne quirked her lip, and Harry got the distinct impression that she was hoping he'd ask that question.
Pulling out her wand that lay next to her thigh, she pointed it at Hedwig's cage.
"Wingardium Leviosa," she intoned, and the cage lifted a few inches before dropping back down into Harry's hands.
Hedwig glared at Harry for letting Daphne use her cage for her example.
"You could do that this whole time and didn't help me lift my stuff?" Harry asked.
Daphne paused as she lay her wand back down, a myriad of emotions passing through her eyes before they became blank once more.
"I could," Daphne replied, and although her facial features remained expressionless, her tone remained weary, careful.
Harry gave the girl a smile to let her know he was joking and she relaxed.
He wondered if this was what having friends felt like. People who could banter and rib each other just a little bit. If they were on the way to becoming friends, then he liked this feeling. It felt… nice.
"Is that a rat, Weasley?"
The minutes slowly faded into hours and, at half-past twelve, a series of clanking sounds flooded the compartment.
At Harry's confused countenance, Daphne said, "That'd be the trolley witch," and went to the door to open it.
Just like she said, an old lady with a trolley stood outside. An assortment of candies and snacks dotted around the cart.
"Anything from the trolley, dears?" she asked.
Daphne muttered that she was fine and Ron pulled a small bag of sandwiches. "I'm all set."
Harry tapped his leg. He was quite hungry, and he hadn't brought anything with him. He touched his pockets to remind himself that he had enough to buy quite a bit.
"We'll take the lot," Harry decided, holding out a wad of Reichsmark.
The trolley witch eagerly pocketed the money and let Harry pick out an armful or three of snacks.
When he sat back down, Ron was quick to dive in, taking a box of chocolate cubes. Harry debated on what he should try first before settling on a chocolate frog. Daphne sat off to the side, watching as the two boys dug in.
While Harry had heard about chocolate frogs before, he didn't know what they were. Just that people liked them.
So, he was taken off guard when, after he opened the box, the chocolate frog jumped onto the open window. Ron shouted something he didn't catch before the frog jumped out and disappeared.
"Oh, that's rotten luck," Ron was saying as Harry took what seemed like a card from the bottom of the box and flipped it over.
Heinrich Himmler
Eternal Reichsführer-SS
It was the man that Harry had seen plenty of times. There was a bit of a waxy look to him, he privately thought. Just like every time he'd seen him, he was wearing his signatory black suit and purple tie, along with those glasses similar in style to the ones Harry wore. His grey hair was covered by his hat, and his beady eyes stared at Harry like he was seeing into his soul.
He reminded Harry of a cockroach, to be honest.
He shook away the treasonous thought.
"Who did you get?" Ron asked.
Harry showed him.
"Oh, I've got about six of him!" Ron eagerly announced through his mouthful of chocolate. "I've got all of them except for Leonidas I and Vercingetorix."
Daphne was squinting at the card. A calculative gleam entered her eye.
"What were your brothers trying to show you earlier?"
Ron paled and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his chocolate snacks forgotten.
"Cassius's father works for the camps. Cassius Warrington," at Daphne's nod, he continued, "Well, he has photos and let Cassius show them around. Fred and George love them."
"What's in them?" Harry asked, dropping the card to his side. He didn't quite understand what Ron was talking about, but there was a look on Daphne's face that suggested that she knew exactly what Ron was referring to.
Ron hesitated. Then...
"Undesirables. Piles and piles of them…"
Harry didn't know what to feel. They weren't really human, that's what his school teachers always said and taught them. So why was there this sad feeling in the pit of his stomach?
He caught Daphne's eyes as he turned his head back in her direction, not too surprised to find her expression to be completely impassive.
Distantly, Harry wondered why she brought those up.
The rest of the train ride was a bit quieter, and the only interruption came when another one of Ron's brothers, Percy, knocked on the door and told Ron, and by extension Harry and Daphne, that they should change into their Hogwarts uniforms.
Harry hadn't gotten a very good look at the school uniform before changing into them, and he took a moment to take it in. It was rather dull in color, just a grey vest and sweater, and black suit pants, and black outer robes.
The only thing with color was the Hogwarts crest. A lion with a red background in the top left, a snake with a green one in the top right, a badger on yellow in the bottom left, and an eagle pitted over a blue one in the bottom right. And then, of course, was the purple Black Sun in the middle of the crest.
When the locomotive began to slow, Harry, Ron, and Daphne headed out of their compartment into the hallway, where a few older students with badges on their breasts that just had a simple 'V'.
Coming to a full stop, the doors opened and Harry, Ron, and Daphne walked out.
"Firs' Years this way!" someone was shouting into the night, waving a ball of light. They approached him and the first thing Harry noticed as they got closer was that the man was tall. Very tall. The second was that the ball of light was connected to a wand and Harry felt like an idiot for not realizing.
"Firs' Years!" he continued shouting for a little longer as other students crowded around.
"Tha' all of you?" The tall man looked around. "This way!"
The giant of a man brought them to boats on a lake and told them three to a boat. Harry and Ron took one, and Daphne followed them shortly after.
It was an experience that Harry had never felt before, and when the Hogwarts castle came into view he couldn't help but stare at it in awe.
It overlooked the lake with a formidable air to it. Harry heard that Hogwarts was a castle from all sorts of places, but actually seeing it was a whole different thing.
He didn't realize when they hit the land, but the tall man rallied them out of their boats and continued on into the castle.
Eventually, they reached a set of doors where a stern looking lady awaited them. She looked the very definition of a witch costume, with her long robes and pointed hat.
"Thank you, Hagrid," she said to the tall man with an accent Harry had never heard of before.
Hagrid gave her a few parting words before he left. The stern-faced witch looked at the crowd of teens.
"I am Professorin McGonagall. In a few moments you will all be sorted into your Houses. There is Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor."
Harry noticed a distinct look of discomfort at that last one.
"Now while you are here, your House will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points, any rule breaking and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points will be awarded with the House Cup."
She gave them all a hard look, her stare shifting from student to student before they fell on Harry for a moment. "The Sorting Ceremony will begin momentarily," and with those parting words, she disappeared around the corner.
The hall was very quiet all of a sudden. Harry noticed then how cold it was, too.
"How do they sort you?" Harry whispered to Ron as quiet conversations broke out.
Ron looked unsure. "Fred and George told me you had to wrestle a troll," he said. "I think they were joking, though!" he added when he saw Harry's worried look.
"Wrestle a troll? How gullible can you be?" a girl asked in German. Ron's ears turned red. She looked at Harry, her eyes drifting up to his scar. "So it is true. The Defeater of Grindelwald has come to Hogwarts."
Harry's face soured in irritation.
She stepped around Ron without even looking at him. "You've done so much for the Reichsführer," she said with a smile. She inclined her head, "Hermine von Granger," and saluted.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't say that about my friends," Harry responded coolly, deciding to ignore the girl's praise. Ron gaped at him.
She frowned and dropped her arm. "Careful, not saluting back to nobility could get you killed," she said right as McGonagall returned. Granger slid off to the side.
The teens quietened as McGonagall stood back in front of them. "If you will follow me," she said, and spun on her heel.
Taking the first step, the great big doors they had been standing in front of for the past minute or so opened up, revealing a bright hall filled with people. Four tables lined the room with what looked like hundreds of students at each one. Although, one of them notably had much fewer than the rest.
There was one table at the end of the Great Hall where the teachers were sitting.
One of the teachers, sitting in the larger chair at the center of the table, had a large handlebar mustache that Harry had only ever seen in movies. Compared to some of the wizards and witches, he was the only person Harry could see to not wear robes. Instead, he wore a black Übermensch suit and coat, and a purple scarf around the back of his neck.
Harry noticed that some of the First Years were looking up at the ceiling. Slowly, he followed their gaze and his expression matched their amazed ones.
It looked like the night sky, stars shining bright.
"It's bewitched to look like the night sky," Daphne murmured to him.
They stopped and Harry belatedly realized they reached the front of the room.
McGonagall stepped onto the raised platform that a stool sat waiting, and atop it was a dusty, old hat. "Wait along here, please," she said, gesturing with a scroll that surely hadn't been in her hand all this time?
"Now," she continued, "Professor Friend would like to say a few words before we begin."
The no-nonsense man that Harry noticed walking in stood up. He had quite some sideburns, Harry noticed.
"Heil Himmler," he started. The school echoed the words back to him. "I have a starting term notice that I would like to announce," he clasped his hands together. "First Years, be aware that the Dark Forest is forbidden to all students. Anyone not following these rules will be expelled."
Professor Friend let the words hang for a few seconds, watching the faces of each student. "That'll be all," he announced, sitting himself back down.
McGonagall unraveled the scroll, "When I call your name, you shall come forth, I shall place the Sorting Hat on your head," he grabbed the old hat, "And you will be sorted into your Houses." She took another look at the scroll.
"Abbott, Hannah."
As a blonde haired girl with a ponytail stepped up onto the platform, Harry whispered to Daphne, "How is a hat going to sort us?"
Hannah Abbott sat down on the stool and McGonagall put the hat on. A few seconds passed before the brim of the hat opened up like it was a face.
Harry's eyes widened in surprise and saw Daphne cover her amusement from the corner of his eye.
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
The tables started applauding the shout of the hat, and Hannah Abbott, a large smile on her face, went over to the table that had a banner of a badger over it.
"Braun, Lavendar."
Another blonde girl went up and the hat was placed over her eyes.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted about thirty seconds later, once again.
The pattern continued, and with every sorting…
"Boot, Terry."
"SLYTHERIN!"
Harry only grew more anxious...
"Brocklehurst, Mandy."
"RAVENCLAW!"
What if he wasn't sorted at all…?
"Bullstrode, Millicent."
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
What if the hat couldn't think of a place for him…?
"Corner, Michael."
"RAVENCLAW!"
What if he didn't have enough magic to even go to Hogwarts?
On and on the list seemed to go. Tracey Davis was called up.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Tracey looked absolutely horrified.
Harry couldn't help but notice that there was much less clapping that time when the girl went to that House.
"Why did she look so scared when she went to Gryffindor?" Harry whispered to Ron, but saw that Daphne was listening in.
Dunbar, Fay was next and sorted into Ravenclaw as Ron quietly answered back.
"Gryffindors aren't trustworthy," Ron whispered back, though Harry had to strain his ears.
Kevin Entwhistle was going up.
"Why?" Harry asked.
Ron glanced around as if to see if anyone else was listening in. "Gryffindors are usually a part of the resistance."
Entwhistle ended up going to Ravenclaw and Seamus Finnigan headed off to Gryffindor the second the hat touched his head.
"Resistance?" Harry asked. He'd never heard of anything like that before. Even Daphne looked very interested now.
Ron subtly shook his head, then quietly said, "I'll tell you later," under the claps of Justin Fink going to Ravenclaw.
Good timing, too, because Daphne was just called up.
The hat was put on her head and said nothing for a good minute or two before, finally, belting out, "SLYTHERIN!"
Daphne went to the Slytherin table, face impossibly blank as she sat down.
The list went on.
Hopkins and Jones both went to Ravenclaw one after the other.
"Knochen, Susanne."
A confident redheaded girl stepped onto the platform and under the hat. A few seconds passed before the hat shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"
Knochen looked immensely pleased with herself as she sat down across from Daphne.
Steffen Kornfuß practically fell off the stool when Gryffindor was called. A boy called Krabbe winded up in Hufflepuff. MacDougal went to Gryffindor, and then Macmillan followed that Krabbe boy into Hufflepuff shortly after.
"Malfoy, Draco."
Malfoy swaggered up onto the stage, and the hat lay on his head for about a minute, wherein the boy was looking increasingly desperate until, finally…
"GRYFFINDOR!"
The dull clapping came once again and Malfoy, face very, very pale, slowly walked over to the table.
Malone and Moon in Slytherin came after, followed by Nott, who went to Gryffindor. Parkinson was next and wound up in Hufflepuff, much to the girl's relief. Perks went to Slytherin, and the shorter girl shuffled off.
And, at last…
"Potter, Harry."
There had been a few mumbling earlier when it came to students getting sorted, and Knochen was, so far, the loudest of them, which wasn't much.
But now, at Harry's name, there was quite a few people murmuring about his status as 'the Boy-Who-Lived'.
Slowly, and with a pounding heart, Harry sat down on the stool.
"What have we here?"
Harry jumped in his seat, glancing around. Was… Was that the hat?
"Of course it was me!" the voice echoes in his mind, along with something that sounded suspiciously like a scoff. "Now, where am I going to put you?"
Honestly, Harry had spent so much time worrying about getting sorted that he never thought about which House he should hat sorted into.
"There's quite a bit of buried bravery and courage in you. Perhaps Gryffindor will help to bring it out."
Harry could almost feel the brim of the hat opening as he shouted 'No!' in his mind, his fingers gripping the stool.
"Oh? Why not?"
Why not? Harry blinked. Thoughts of feeling despised by his relatives flickered through his mind. If he was put in Gryffindor, he'd be hated even more, he was sure of it.
"I suppose if you think that," the hat mused.
Harry wanted to sink into the floor. Those were private thoughts!
"Well, what do we have here? A need to prove yourself, eh? If not Gryffindor, then Slytherin had better help you on your way to greatness."
The hat didn't say anything for a moment, as if it was letting Harry think. He didn't know much about the Houses, but from what Ron told him about Gryffindor…
"In that case, better be SLYTHERIN!"
Harry's ears were flooded with the sound of clapping as McGonagall removed the hat from his head. Some of the older students looked very happy at the outcome.
A large smile grew across Harry's face. He had no proof of it, but he could feel that this might just be an actual home for him.
Slipping off the stool, Harry made his way to the Slytherin table, sitting down next to an open spot beside Daphne. He gave her a smile and she returned it, but there was something about her face that made it seem like she didn't truly mean it.
Harry shook the feeling of paranoia off and turned his attention back to the sorting.
A few sortings later and Rivers made Ravenclaw, Runcorn in Gryffindor, Seiler joined the end of the Slytherin table.
"Thomas, Dean."
No one made to step up the platform and McGonagall frowned. "Herr Thomas?" she asked while the few teens left glanced around at each other.
Still, no one made to move and McGonagall frowned, almost imperceptibly. She waved her wand over the scroll as if she were crossing something out, and then called out another name.
The hat called out Hufflepuff for Lisa Turpin, and then Granger's name was called.
"Von Granger, Hermine."
The bushy haired girl from earlier walked calmly up the steps and sat on the edge of the stool. McGonagall put the hat on her head and eventually a minute passed. Then two. And then one more.
"Hatstall, do you think?" a boy with hairy arms asked the sloth looking fellow that Harry saw from the train station.
"No way, you know how rare those are?" the boy responded.
"RAVENCLAW!" the hat shouted, and Harry let out a breath of relief he hadn't noticed he'd been keeping in.
"How ever did you know, Cassius?" one of Ron's brothers said, giving the boy a fake look of awe while he clapped.
Until now, Harry hadn't realized that Fred and George were a part of this House. He looked back at McGonagall and the platform.
"Weasley, Ronald."
Ron walked up a little stiffly, sitting down on the stool. McGonagall put the hat on his head and a few seconds passed.
"What if your brother is a hatstall?" Cassius asked other twins.
"Not possible," one of them declared.
"He's not interesting enough," the other added.
A few more seconds passed, and then, "SLYTHERIN!"
Harry couldn't help the smile that broke across his face, and clapped along with the rest of the House as Ron approached them. Harry slid over a few extra inches to let Ron sit down next to him.
As Ron sat down, Friend stood up, extending his arms. "May the feast begin," his voice echoed throughout the now quiet hall.
And with those words said, more food than Harry had ever seen at once appeared on the plates in front of him. All at once, the students leaned in and began piling things onto their plates.
Harry hardly knew where to start.
"So, you're Harry Potter?" Harry looked up from his plate to see who'd asked the question. It was the boy with the hairy arms. "Not quite what I was picturing," he said with as much tact as a collapsing building.
"Leave him alone, now, Hindenberg," an older boy with kind eyes said. He'd been sitting next to Cassius, quiet until now. "Rolf Sachs," he introduced with a salute.
Harry reciprocated the action.
"Were you worried you were gonna get another House, Ronniekins?"
"Perhaps a certain one in red?"
Cassius looked amused, Ron much less so. His ears were red and he quickly stuffed his face with sauerbraten.
"Did you know Professorin McGonagall was a Gryffindor?" Daphne asked, cutting into her food in a prim and proper manner.
Ron looked surprised, even as Rolf said, "She is the Head of Gryffindor, you know."
"Head of Gryffindor?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Rolf said as Fred and George quickly lost interest in the conversation and went back to talking with Cassius and Hindenberg. "We all have a Head of House. Ours is Professor Slughorn." Rolf explained that Ravenclaw's was Professor Quirrell and Hufflepuff's was Professorin Sprout.
Harry looked up at the Head Table. "Which one is Professor Slughorn?"
The man was easy to figure out from Rolf's description. He was sitting next to a professor in black robes and black eyes. He had a short beard and black hair greying at the temples. When he noticed Harry looking at him Harry quickly looked away.
Daphne dipped her fork into her mouth, her brows slightly furrowed like she was thinking.
"Shall I lead the First Years to the Common Room or shall you?" Ron's other brother, Percy, was asking Rolf.
"Up to you," Rolf replied.
The feast slowly winded down and Professor Friend stepped up to the edge of the elevated platform that his table sat on. "Vertrauensschüler and vertrauensschülerinnen, escort the First Years to your Common Rooms," he said, and then promptly disappeared into an alcove at the back of the room.
Percy stood up rather quickly after that. "First Years, with me," he said over the noisy hall. Harry and the rest of the newly sorted First Years stood up to follow after him.
Harry had to do a double-take during their walk. He could've sworn that portrait just moved?
It did! The portrait moved, waving at a few First Years, who gasped.
"There used to be more portraits," Percy stated matter-of-factly, gesturing to a blank patch on the wall. The portrait across from it looked sad. "But they kept sprouting false facts about the Untermenschen," Percy spat. He looked at Harry and followed his gaze to the sad portrait.
Percy stopped and stood next to the sad portrait. "We call this one Sad Samuel or Traurig Theobald," he stepped away. "Professor Friend thought it fitting to make the portraits unable to talk as retribution for all the lies."
Percy turned around. "This way."
Percy led Harry and the group of First Years down into what were aptly named the 'Dungeons'.
"Hogwarts used to have ghosts, too," Percy stated. "Chief Unspeakable Augustus Rookwood himself found ways to exorcize them. The first one of them to go was actually a poltergeist, a proper menace. They were permanently confined to a part of the castle so that they couldn't bug students. Ah, we're here."
Harry wondered how ghosts were confined to somewhere. How could that work? Magic, he supposed.
Percy turned back to the First Years, his back to a blank wall.
"There is a notice board inside the Common Room that has the password on it. It changes at the end of every week." Percy rotated back to the wall. "Endlösung," he stated firmly, and the wall began to move.
It was just like when he visited Diagon Alley, Harry smiled a bit. The wall transformed, shifting and changing until the wall was gone and instead, an archway into a room that Harry thought looked comfy.
Percy, a smug little smirk on his face, treaded into the room, waiting as the First Years followed.
"This is the Slytherin Common Room," he announced. He pointed to the right, "Boys dorms are to the right," and then to the left, "Girls dorms on the left."
Harry followed each point to other archways deeper into the Common Room.
Some of the students were already on the move to their respective dorms when Percy continued.
"If you need any help, come to a vertrauensschüler or vertrauensschülerin. We'll do anything in our power to help you."
Rolf came into view from behind Percy, a book tucked under his arm. He had a badge that Harry didn't notice earlier that read 'Schulsprecher'.
"You don't have to go to sleep right away, of course," Rolf said, giving the First Years a wink, "No one will stop you from hanging out down here for a little while longer."
A few of the students seemed remarkably pleased at that.
"Have a good night, everyone. Heil Himmler," Rolf said, already off towards the boy's dormitory.
"Heil Himmler," came a few muttered replies.
Ron tugged on Harry's robes, bringing him over to a table near the back of the room. Cassius was nearby, carefully folding origami.
Searching for Daphne, Harry spotted her watching him and Ron, before heading into the girl's dorm.
"Remember when I told you about that resistance thing," Ron whispered and Harry shot his head in Ron's direction. He'd almost completely forgotten about that. He nodded.
Ron shuffled a bit. "Well, dad works for the government and I hear him and mum talking about it sometimes when they think I'm asleep."
A resistance. Harry had never heard of such a thing. It was an odd concept to him.
"I've never heard of that before," Harry quietly announced his thoughts to Ron.
"It's very secretive, I think," Ron replied. "I heard mum say that it was information that could probably get people killed."
Harry blinked. He leaned his head forward to cover his eyes with his bangs and took a quick gander around. All of the students were just chatting, a few of the older ones were reading or studying. Then his heart jumped.
Cassius was looking right at them.
Harry quickly dropped his gaze to the table. "I think you might be right," he muttered.
Harry had trouble sleeping that night. He was too curious, too excited to see what Hogwarts would bring. The people here had the same abilities he had. The Übermenschen seemed to think of him as more of an animal in a cage that they could poke at.
Things could truly be different now, he hoped.
Harry dropped down into a seat next to Ron and across from Daphne. He let out a tired, "Heil Himmler," as he picked up some bread and started to butter it.
"Heil Himmler," Ron and Daphne replied.
"Didn't get much sleep, then?" Daphne asked after swallowing down some Eierkuchen.
"No," Harry said with a smile.
Ron said something over a mouthful of food that sounded like something along the lines of, "And you're happy about it?"
"Professor Slughorn is giving us our schedules," Daphne said, completely disregarding whatever Ron was trying to say.
Harry glanced up and down the table to see if their Head of House was in the vicinity. "What classes are you looking forward to?" he asked.
Daphne pondered the question and Ron answered, "Verteidigung gegen die dunklen Künste. The professor is supposed to really know what he's talking about."
"Did Fred and George tell you that?" Daphne asked blandly. "Zauberkunst," she told Harry in response to his question.
"Wanna touch up on your beauty charms, yeah?" Ron asked as he slipped a spoon into his mouth.
Daphne shot daggers at him.
"Oho!" Professor Slughorn came up, slips of parchment between his fingers. "Talking about classes you're looking forward to, yes? I remember doing just the same thing when I was around your age," he chortled.
Harry gave his teacher a greeting, who reciprocated. He handed the parchment to the trio before waddling off.
Harry read over his schedule, "Looks like you're out of luck, Ron. We've got Zaubertränke with the Ravenclaws first."
Daphne was the first of them to stand up. Harry followed her lead and Ron came after a few seconds later. They couldn't get lost on their way to class on the first day, Daphne argued.
Hogwarts, Harry was quick to learn, was a maze. The only reason he found his way to the Great Hall so easily was from retracing his steps. And even then, he still went down the wrong corridor once or twice.
As they stumbled from hallway to hallway, Daphne at some point asked, "Is there any reason you haven't shown up in any Übermensch or magical media? You'd think they'd want to get their hooks into you."
"...Why?" Harry warily asked.
Daphne shrugged. "It seems to be what they do. Try to get into business that isn't there's," she lowered her voice an octave, "It's what got Rita Skeeter charged with treason."
"Oh yeah," Ron seemed to recall, "Whatever happened to her? Mum and dad would never tell me."
"Lager," was all Daphne said.
They entered the Zaubertränke classroom, where Professor Slughorn seemed to be waiting for the last few students to arrive.
"Oh, there you are!" he exclaimed. "Come, sit, sit!" he gestured to the lined desks of Slytherins all sitting next to each other.
Over the course of a few more minutes, the last of the students arrived and Slughorn began to take attendance.
He briefly stopped at Susanne Knochen. "How is your aunt doing, Fräulein Knochen?"
"Never better, Professor," the redheaded girl answered. "You may have heard she's become SS-Oberst-Gruppenführer," she said with eyes full of pride.
"Oh, did she?" Slughorn asked in a manner that seemed to suggest he did indeed know that. "That's wonderful!"
And then he resumed until he reached the bottom of the list and began his lecture.
Harry felt like he'd learned quite a bit by the time the class was over. They hadn't actually gotten around to brewing any potions yet, Slughorn seemed to be very meticulous before the actual brewing part.
So he was taken off guard when, walking through the hallway to their next class, Daphne spoke out, face impassive.
"I don't like him."
It honestly floored Harry because he was the first teacher he'd had in ages that actually treated him decently, even if he seemed to pay special attention to Harry.
"I thought he was alright," Ron mumbled.
"Why?" Harry asked.
Daphne said nothing, opting to instead walk ahead, alone in her thoughts.
Ron just shrugged at Harry.
Their next class was Zauberkunst, which started off in a similar manner to Zaubertränke. Professor Adelmein read through the student names, notably biting his lip when he got to Harry, and nearly slipping off the platform he stood on.
Professor Adelmein had a raspy kind of voice, Harry had heard from someone yesterday that it sounded that way because he was cursed in the throat during a duel.
They had the class with the same Ravenclaws they'd just ended Zaubertränke with. They were sitting in a long booth stretched across the other side of the room. In particular, Granger was sitting with two black-haired boys. Fink and Corner, if Harry could remember their names right.
Adelmein began his lesson in a similar vein to Slughorn. He explained what charms were, telling the students that they added to or even changed the properties of an object, but never altered them in appearance.
It was rather hard to follow along, especially when he explained that there were charms that made a person happier, or produced light from their wand.
Regardless, Adelmein told them that there was one charm in particular that he wanted them to focus on today.
"Bluebell flames," he announced in his gravelly voice, "Fuegozul," he chanted, and a jet of blue fire shot out of his wand and into a lantern he'd set down in front of him.
Extinguishing the fire from his wand, he picked up the lantern that looked ridiculously small in his already tiny hands.
"Bluebell flames aren't as harmful as real fire," he reassured some hesitant looking students, "It can't burn the body," he said, reaching into the lantern and, to Harry's amazement, plucked the fire into the palm of his hand.
Adelmein gestured around the room to show everyone that he was indeed holding the blue fire. He smiled a bit at the looks of awe he received. He delicately put the lantern back down.
"But, it does have the capacity to…" he dramatically trailed off, lifting his other arm to dangle his sleeves over the fire, "singe materials." The fire caught his sleeve and, just like he said would happen, started to burn at the sleeve.
Adelmein took his arm back and extinguished both fires with ease.
"That will be your homework for the week," Adelmein said, the humor fading from his face to be replaced with firmness, "Six inches of parchment detailing exactly what bluebell flames are useful for. You are, under no circumstances, to cast it."
More than a few of the students looked disappointed at that news.
"So we'll just be studying the theory?" Fink called out. He didn't look very pleased.
"For the moment, Herr Fink," Adelmein answered. He tuned his attention to the entirety of the class. "You should have about ten minutes of class left, I'll leave you to work on homework."
That got a few smiles, at least.
The rest of the week followed a similar pattern. The teachers handed out homework, and some of them seemed hesitant to let the First Years perform magic on their first day.
Either way, it didn't bother Harry too much since most of the classes revealed that they would start using their wands next week.
Instead, Harry found himself most looking forward to Flugstunde on the last day of the week. Ron had told him a lot about Quidditch during the week, building and building his excitement for the possibility of flying.
First came the first lesson of Verteidigung gegen die dunklen Künste, though. And it was with none other than the Ravenclaws, which seemed to become a running theme. The only classes they hadn't shared with the Ravenclaws were Kräuterkunde with Hufflepuff and Verwandlung and Lehre von den Übermenschen with the Gryffindors.
It was the first time the teacher was late to his own class, Harry couldn't help but notice as he sat down next to Ron and Daphne. The latter was playing with his quill while the former was making a few last minute notes.
"Where do you think the teacher is?" Harry asked Ron, his voice mixing into the cacophony of students chatting.
Before Ron could answer, though, the door burst open and the students were startled enough to fall silent.
Their teacher seemed to glide into the room. It was the teacher that Harry made brief eye-contact with during the Feast. He'd completely forgotten about it.
"Heil Himmler," their teacher greeted upon reaching the end of the room.
"Heil Himmler," Harry and the rest of the students echoed.
Their teacher waved his wand, writing fiery letters in the air. "I am Professor Tom Riddle," he said, underlining his name with a line that seemed to burn the air.
"I will be your instructor in defending yourself from the Dark Arts."
The class didn't dare say a word.
Riddle swept his black gaze across the room.
"Can anyone tell me the definition of the Dark Arts?" he asked silkily, subconsciously starting to stroke his beard.
Slowly, Granger was the first to raise her hand.
"Fräulein…?"
"Granger," the girl said with a hint of derision, as if she couldn't believe somebody couldn't put a name to her face. "They're spells invented specifically to harm you," she said in German.
Riddle ran his hand down the rail of his blackboard, tapping a rhythm that sounded like a galloping horse. "Perhaps," Riddle said. "Five points to Ravenclaw," he added as an afterthought.
Granger looked pleased with herself.
"It all really depends on who you ask," the teacher said, gliding across the room. "I'd argue that they are a tool to be used," he said, picking up a book he'd left on the edge of his personal desk. "You'll find that most wizards agree with me."
He spun, gripping the book tightly in his hand.
"This is the book you came to that conclusion with, Fräulein Granger?" he asked.
"Of course, Professor."
"Good," Riddle smiled, flicking the book open, "The very one I prescribed to each of you. You've all read this?"
Daphne, Knochen, Moon, Boot, Malone, and almost all of the Ravenclaws answered in the affirmative. Harry could almost sink into his seat.
"Well done," Riddle praised. "But entirely useless."
Daphne frowned, and she wasn't the only one.
Riddle waved his wand and a block of books appeared on top of Riddle's desk. Then they split apart, the books landing in front of the students.
Harry picked it up and slowly opened it up to the first page. He glanced at Daphne and, as usual, her face was impassive, though her mouth was turned downward a fraction more than usual.
"I might be encroaching on his territory a bit, but I doubt Professor Adelmein will mind," Riddle said, conjuring a pedestal in the middle of the room. He put the old book on top of it standing up.
"So, we spent money on this book for nothing?" Michael Corner scowled, glaring at his new book in distaste.
"Not nothing," Riddle grinned charmingly. He pointed his wand at the book and recited, "Incendio!"
A red light shot forth from his wand, hitting the book in a burst of flames.
Few of the students sat further up to watch the burning, and others murmured something like they were in awe.
"The fire-making spell will be a very important spell in your arsenal," Riddle stated. He moved his wand a certain way, "This is the wand movement, and the incantation is Incendio. Have you got that?"
Harry and the rest of class mimicked the movement and said, "Incendio," as one.
"Good. Light the book on fire and try not to burn yourself." The pedestal vanished, dropping the burning book to the floor. Riddle calmly stomped the flames out, leaving nothing but ash behind.
Harry took his wand into his hand. This could be the first spell he'd ever used. He took a quick look around to see what the other students were doing.
He noticed Granger had an especially eager look on her face as she cast on the book. Fink a bit less so. And Corner still looked displeased.
"Incendio," Ron pronounced, practically throwing his wand at his book.
Harry was confident that that was not the way to do it but wasn't sure if he should say anything.
"Incendio," he tried. Nothing happened.
"You're not doing it right," Riddle said from beside them, and Harry almost jumped. Too focused to keep track of his teacher's movements. He looked over to watch Ron getting taught. "Watch me," Riddle said and then moved his wand. "Enunciate."
Then Riddle had walked off.
Harry tried to mimic Riddle's wand movement, "Incendio," he stated, pointing it at his book. A spark came out.
Maybe the book would help, Harry thought. He grabbed his new book and flipped it open, searching for what was probably ten minutes. There just didn't seem to be any mention of the Incendio spell.
"It's a charm, you won't find it in there," he heard Daphne's soft voice from his other side. He looked over.
She was sitting back in her chair, fingering her wand. "It's pathetic," she whispered, "I can cast a vanishing spell without a problem, but I can't figure this out."
"Don't worry about it," Harry reassured, giving her a lopsided smile. "Nobody's gotten it yet," and his own words put out the fire of his own frustration.
Harry didn't know if she was listening to him, she didn't turn her eyes on him and made no other indication. Harry closed the book and looked back at his. He didn't see Daphne straighten herself and mutter, "Incendio," once more.
Harry breathed in and pointed his wand at his book, "Incendio," he chanted, and a moment later the book was on fire.
"Well done, Herr Potter."
Harry's eyes shot up to his Verteidigung Professor. Those black eyes bored into his green.
"Ten points to Slytherin," he said after a pause.
The rest of the class passed in a blur and soon, Riddle let the class go.
"How did you do it?" Ron eagerly asked Harry almost the second they were out the door.
There weren't many people who'd succeeded in pulling off the spell. Harry, Susanne Knochen, and one of the Ravenclaws that Harry didn't remember the name of were the only ones who'd managed to light their books on fire.
Riddle claimed that they'd try again next week and charmingly reassured the class that it was a difficult spell to get right the first time.
Still, there were a few sour faces by the end of class.
"I don't know," Harry honestly answered. "I just copied what Professor Riddle did."
Ron didn't seem too happy with that answer, but he gained a thoughtful look.
"What were you imagining?" Daphne asked from her few steps behind Harry. She wasn't one of the sour-faced students but she'd been disappointed with her inability to cast the spell. She didn't like not knowing things.
Harry gave the girl a little shrug. "I don't remember." He paused. "Just the fire coming out and hitting the book. Why?"
Daphne's eyes pierced him, like she was examining him. After a second she said, "Envisioning the spell is very important."
"Professor Riddle didn't say that," Ron frowned.
"It's a fundamental stepping stone of magic. It's obvious."
The remark wasn't aimed at Harry in any malicious way but it still hurt. It made him feel like he didn't truly know what using magic was like, and how he shouldn't have been able to cast the spell.
Harry winced but Daphne either didn't notice or didn't care.
But it looked like Ron did.
"Yeah? How do you know that?" Ron asked, something crossing his face.
"Because I was taught how magic worked from a young age." Daphne answered in a monotone. The 'unlike you' went unsaid even if the implication hung.
Ron's ears went red in spite of the unsaid words. "Says the girl who has no friends and follows Harry and I around like a lost dog."
"Ron!" Harry exclaimed.
If the insult impacted Daphne in any way she didn't show it. She just arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "Is that so?"
"Yeah! Why don't you just leave us alone, Greengrass?"
Daphne stared at them with those piercing blue eyes. "If that's what you want," she said at last, then walked around the duo.
Harry watched the person who was maybe a friend turned around the corner and out of sight.
"You alright, Kamerad?" Ron asked, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder.
Harry gathered himself. "Why did you do that?" he asked, pulling himself away from Ron's friendly gesture even though he didn't really want to.
"I…" Ron trailed off, looming awkward. He scratched the back of his neck. "I thought you were upset," he mumbled.
Harry was taken aback. No one had ever stood up for him. Even if this felt like a case of misunderstanding to him, the thought of anyone standing up for him was a sentiment that felt… nice.
"It's," Harry started, then sighed, "It's okay."
Ron looked a little bit happier at his reassurance, but not entirely. "Let's get to Flugstunde," he said, and they continued down the corridor.
When the duo arrived at the field they were the only two Slytherins that had yet to arrive. All of the Gryffindors were there as well. They lined up beside the two spare brooms that their housemates left for them.
Almost the second they got into place, their instructor had appeared.
She had a youthful looking face which was slightly at odds with her mix of grey and white hair. She wore rather plain black robes, and the only thing of note to them was the black tie that had the Hogwarts crest on it.
"Heil Himmler," she said, sliding her hands into her gloves.
"Heil Himmler, Frau Hooch," the class said back to her.
Hooch nodded to the students, reaching the end of the lineup and turning to face them.
Her unnatural yellow eyes almost caused Harry to miss what she said next.
"This is your first flying lesson," she stated stoically. Her eyes darted around from Slytherin to Gryffindor. "What're you waiting for? Everyone, step up to the left side of your broomstick."
There was a little bit of shuffling as the students did just that with no complaint.
"Good. Stick your right hand over your broom and say, 'Rauf'." She extended her own arm for effect.
Harry eyed his broom and, just like Hooch told them, shouted, "Rauf!" like the rest of the class.
His broom only rolled over on the ground. A few feet away, Daphne's broom flew directly into her awaiting hand. The expression on her face, or lack thereof, didn't change.
Draco Malfoy managed to get his broom on the third try, looking very smug with himself.
"With feeling," Hooch added when only a few others got their brooms to cooperate.
On what was probably Harry's sixth try, he hadn't been counting, his broom shot up with a force that Harry worried would land splinters in his hand.
Slowly, Harry's other classmates got their brooms to work with them. Seamus Finnigan and Lilith Moon decided to bend down and pick up their respective brooms instead.
"Good," Hooch claimed. "Now, straddle your brooms, hold them."
Harry wasn't sure if that was a good idea. Carefully, he lifted one leg up and over his broom, making sure to apply almost none of his weight to the object. They were rickety looking things and Harry wasn't sure he wanted to try flying in the air on something that looked like it would so easily drop him.
Hooch circled them, adjusting their grips where they needed it. Draco Malfoy started arguing with her when she adjusted his grip.
"I've done it like this all my life," Malfoy complained.
"Then you've been doing it wrong all your life," Hooch shot back.
Malfoy finally acquiesced and Hooch came to Harry, correcting his grip before swiftly moving on to Ron.
"Well done," Hooch complimented. "On the count of three I will blow my whistle and you will push up from the ground where you will hover. Only to hover," she pointed sternly at them. "You will come back by leaning forward slightly." She gripped said whistle from around her neck and brought it to her lips.
She began the count, however, before she hit the third number, Steffen Kornfuß already pushed off the ground with a whoop.
"Herr Kornfuß!" Hooch barked, dropping her whistle.
Harry could only stare in awe as the Gryffindor boy floated up above his classmates. He'd never seen a thing like it.
Kornfuß was about ten feet in the air and the boy didn't seem to be wanting to go down. He was grinning from ear to ear.
"Herr Kornfuß, get down here this instant!" Hooch shouted. She looked absolutely furious.
Next to the spot where Kornfuß took off from, Tracey Davis was whispering angrily to Morag MacDougal, who looked just as happy as Kornfuß did.
Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him. His fear of flying diminished bit by bit from just watching the ecstatic look on his classmate.
And then, all at once, everything seemed to hang as the broom Kornfuß sat on slipped from under his grasp. An alarmed expression adopted his features as he slid off and plummeted to the ground below.
The grin on MacDougal's face vanished, and Hooch had stopped yelling at the boy mid-sentence.
The awe that Harry held seconds earlier disappeared in favor of growing horror. A million different thoughts flew through his mind, all of them screaming out to somehow stop his descent, or wondering if anyone else would be able to stop it.
Kornfuß crashed into the ground, his body thumping in a way that the human body should not move.
Time resumed at once.
Tracey Davis and Morag MacDougal were instantly by his side, on their knees. Worry etched into their faces.
"Out of the way!" Hooch marched over, her face white. "You stupid boy," she muttered without any real heat. She dropped down next to him, shooing Davis and MacDougal away. She gently rolled him over so that he wasn't lying down on his front.
Harry watched on with bated breath as Hooch said she was taking him to the Hospital Wing. She levitated the boy up.
"None of you are to fly your brooms until I get back, verstanden?" Hooch said seriously. The class nodded. She hesitated, then looked at Kornfuß and hurried on.
A great period of silence passed. The brooms were on the ground, completely untouched.
Then, that silence was broken when Tracey Davis shoved her finger against MacDougal's shoulder. "I can't believe you did that!" she whisper-shouted despite everyone's ability to hear them. "You know he always accepts a dare, were you trying to get him killed!?"
"No!" MacDougal wasn't nearly as quiet as Davis was trying to be. "I didn't think that was gonna happen!"
"You didn't think at all!" Davis hissed.
Malfoy burst into laughter, surprising the two girls enough to stop their argument.
"Did you see the face he made while he was falling?" He put his arms up and made a mocking face.
"Draco!" Seamus Finnigan of all people warned, glancing at his housemates.
"What? They don't care," Malfoy scoffed. He picked up his broom, twirling it in his hand. "Besides, if he's a wizard that fell off his broom then he deserved it."
Davis looked like she'd been slapped. "Shut up."
Malfoy put his hand on his heart in a look of exaggerated surprise, "Davis, I didn't know you had a thing for moronic failures!"
"Shut your mouth!" MacDougal shouted this time, with as much originality as Malfoy.
He just rolled his eyes. "Any of the real experts wanna race me to the treeline and back?"
No one replied and Malfoy scowled.
"How about you, Potter?"
Harry blinked, suddenly finding himself thrust into the center of attention. "No," he said, once he got his wits about him.
"Why? Too chicken?" Malfoy taunted. He tossed his broom from hand to hand, back and forth.
Harry decided he'd ignore him, dropping his eyes to look at the ground. He didn't see Daphne give him the smallest of approving nods.
"Fine then," Malfoy took a look around. "Didn't know I was in a class with a bunch of cowards." And with those parting words, he mounted his broom and shot up into the air.
As Malfoy circled the air above his classmates, others stared longingly after him, though MacDougal and Davis followed his every movement with a glare.
"Hey," Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up. "You're not a coward," Ron said. Harry gave him a fleeting smile.
Malfoy looked like he was having the time of his life, swooping down a few feet and then back up, taunting his classmates with childish exclamations. It didn't even occur to him that he could get caught.
"Komm sofort hier runter!" A voice shouted through the courtyard, and Malfoy came to a slow stop, his glee disappearing and replaced with a frown.
That was Klaus Katz, the Hogwarts Hausmeister. He appeared about the same age as Malfoy's father, and he wore a crisp black suit with a high belt, and apart from his dirty blond hair, had no distinguishing marks.
Reluctantly, Malfoy landed his broom near the man, his temper already on the rise. He couldn't believe this was happening. He had never, ever gotten in trouble for something like this before.
Maybe that's why he thought he'd get away with it.
"You understand why I called you down, yes, Herr Malfoy?" Katz raised an eyebrow.
"No, sir," Malfoy put on his best innocent expression.
"No?" Katz asked, looking over his shoulder. "Then I don't suppose Frau Hooch is invisible, is she?"
Malfoy's cheeks went red. Mother would put him in his place, he was sure of it, when she heard of this.
"I thought not." Katz leaned forward, grabbing Malfoy by the scruff of his neck. "Did you think you could lie to an Übermensch, Herr Malfoy? Come, you'll be having Nachsitzen with me."
Malfoy spouted off excuse after excuse as Katz dragged him off the courtyard and he disappeared from Harry's sight.
Seeing Malfoy escorted off by Herr Katz left a small smile on Harry's face. Satisfying. And it seemed he wasn't the only one to think so. Davis and MacDougal grinned briefly before they dived back into a quiet conversation.
"I'd hate to be Malfoy right about now," a smiling Ron whispered to Harry. Harry couldn't agree more.
The rest of the day passed by faster than Harry would've liked. He'd hoped Daphne and Ron would make up at supper, but she'd sat further away from them.
"Have you finished your essay for Zauberkunst?" Ron asked when he saw that Harry had his textbook on the table.
"Still working on it," Harry replied. He'd wanted to finish that assignment early on but he was procrastinating.
Ron glanced off to the side, fingering his spoon. He shoved another round of food into his gullet.
"Can you believe they're making us write an essay in the first week?" Harry asked. None of the schools he'd gone to before had done that. They were just thrown right on into the deep end.
Ron hummed in agreement and Harry noticed then that he wasn't entirely paying attention. He kept glancing off to the side.
Harry followed his sight to Daphne, who was reading a book and cutting into the Schweinebraten. It was an impressive feat, actually.
Almost like she could feel their eyes boring into the side of her skull, Daphne paused and swung her head in their direction. Both Ron and Harry abruptly stopped looking, their faces burning.
Harry sniffed, pushing down his embarrassment. "Are you gonna apologize?" he asked hopefully.
Ron stared at the table. "You don't have to hang out with me if you wanna talk with her," he said in a self-deprecating tone.
Harry didn't seem to notice it, saying, "I wanna hang out with both of you, but I wanna do it at the same time."
"But why don't you just hang out with her instead of me?"
Harry didn't really know how to answer that. "Because leaving you alone would leave you without anyone to talk to."
Ron ate some more. "She's not talking with anyone," he pointed out.
"She… seems like she could handle being alone better than us." Harry winced at the words. Could've been said a bit more tactfully.
But Ron just contemplated the words.
There was a brief silence between them in the otherwise loud Great Hall.
"Can you apologize to her?" Harry asked again, and once again hopeful.
Ron stared off into space, tapping his spoon against the table in a soft rhythm. At last he said, "Yeah, I will."
Harry smiled. Apologizing was a very hard thing to do, he thought. There was a time Harry could remember that involved his cousin, Dudley, playing it up for the teachers. They made Harry apologize to Dudley, and he really did not mean it. Mostly because he hadn't actually done anything wrong. But the teacher just smiled like it was a done deal.
Before Ron made to stand up, Harry watched from over his shoulder as Draco Malfoy limped into the hall. He wasn't the only one to notice. A lot of Gryffindors were watching as he came stumbling over.
The boy didn't look nearly as arrogant as he had that morning; he looked defeated. He made no remarks as he sat down next to Seamus Finnigan and started piling a small amount of food onto his plate.
"What do you think happened to Malfoy?"
Harry turned his attention over to Fred and George, who were sitting just a little bit further away with Cassius and that Hindenberg guy that Harry didn't know the full name of.
"He got Nachsitzen with Herr Katz, I heard," Hindenberg said, crossing his hairy arms.
Fred and George 'oohed'. They suddenly looked much more interested than they did a moment earlier. "Why didn't you tell us sooner, Gerhard?"
Hindenberg looked taken aback, the slightest amount of worry appearing. He looked between the twins and tried to formulate a response.
"I-I didn't think it was that interesting," Gerhard Hindenberg stuttered.
"Not interesting, he says," said Fred.
"Nobody's gotten Nachsitzen with Katz in seven years," George exclaimed.
Gerhard looked between the twins. "Why?" he warily asked.
"Because nobody wants to, obviously!" Fred revealed, like that made much sense.
"They all avoid him. Students usually end up worse than they do going in," George added, ending with a conspiratorial whisper.
"Or, at least, that's what we've heard." Fred leaned back, crossing his arms.
"We're not actually sure. This is the first time we've seen one from Katz," George said, gesturing between himself and his twin.
Cassius, who hadn't said anything until this point, tossed a bird origami into the air. It flapped its wings and circled around the group. "Where did you hear that?"
"Here and there," one of the twins replied without missing a beat.
"Fred, George." Rolf Sachs neared them, exasperated. "What did we discuss about saying these kinds of things during supper?"
The twins put on a mock-offended look.
"Rolf, we're offended you would think any less of us," one twin said.
"Nothing but healthy conversation going on here," the other said.
Rolf raised an eyebrow. "Then why did a First Year student come up to me complaining that you were ruining their meal?"
Cassius said, finger pointed out at nothing, "We were hypothesizing what happened to Draco Malfoy," he nodded to the Gryffindor table. His origami bird landed on his outstretched finger.
Rolf looked over at the table, spying the very student they were talking about eating with a shaking hand. The normally put-together boy's hair was a bit disheveled and that superiority complex seemed to be completely absent. Seamus Finnigan was talking to him in hushed tones, visibly concerned.
Rolf blinked and then turned away. "So you were," he said. "Well, enjoy your supper then. Heil Himmler." And then he walked off.
"Heil Himmler," the quartet called after him.
Harry and Ron were having trouble looking away from Draco Malfoy after overhearing that conversation. Any satisfaction they'd gotten from him getting into trouble had significantly dimmed.
Fred and George seemed to notice that they were staring.
"Oh, don't worry about him, Ronniekins," George said, dropping his chin into his hands.
"Mum always did say that bad boys got punished, isn't that right George?"
"She did say that, Fred."
Ron abruptly stood up and walked off, his fists clenched. When he reached Daphne, he stopped and waited for her to acknowledge him.
She, on the other hand, was very content to pay him no attention whatsoever.
The confidence Ron had just a moment ago vanished. He looked at Harry desperately, who gave him an encouraging nod. Ron closed his eyes and steeled himself.
"Daphne," he found himself saying.
Daphne flipped the page of her book. After a pause, she said, "Daphne now, is it?"
Ron winced and curled his hands. Should he put them in his pockets? He cleared his throat. "Fräulein Greengrass," he said.
Another pause.
"Better," she eventually said.
"I…" Ron trailed off. Why was apologizing so difficult?
Daphne slowly turned around in her seat and Ron hated the fact that she was watching him now. This would've been so much easier without her eyes on him, judging his every action.
Daphne made a questioning hum, closing her book on her thumb to keep the page.
"Iwannaapologize," Ron mumbled quickly, breaking eye contact with her in favor of looking at his shoes.
"I didn't quite catch that," Daphne said blandly.
Ron sucked in another breath. Of course she didn't, that would be too easy, wouldn't it?
He forced the words out again, making a deliberate effort to be slower. "I wanna apologize." Daphne raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were making fun of Harry," Ron mumbled.
Ron looked back at his shoes, his gaze bouncing from them to Daphne, who continued to watch him impassively until he started to squirm.
"Apology accepted," she said and stood up.
Ron blew out a breath. "Just like that?"
"Just like that."
The trio, once Harry joined them, walked to the Slytherin Common Room as night started to fall. Harry would've liked to stay up a bit later and talk with his friends, but after this kind of day, he was exhausted.
As Harry lay his head down on his pillow, he almost immediately fell asleep.
"Harry! You've got to see this!"
Harry groaned, waving away whoever was trying to wake him up, clutching his pillow closer to his face.
"Harry, get up!" the voice insisted, hands shoving at Harry's back.
He was never gonna be let go, was he?
Harry sighed and sat up, running the sleep from his eyes. "What?" He drew out the word, reaching for his desk to put his glasses on.
With his newly acquired sight back, he saw that it had been Ron that shook him awake. That in itself wasn't much of a surprise, but the look of what seemed like panic was.
"What?" Harry asked again, much more alert now that he saw his friend.
"Something's happened in the Great Hall! You've got to see it!' Ron insisted.
It took Harry about ten minutes to dress into his school robes, but when he was done he was quick to follow Ron to the Common Room. The first thing he noticed when he got there was the incredible absence of students, and the only person inhabiting it was Daphne.
Even the ever unfazed girl had a look of unease on her face.
When Daphne saw that Harry and Ron came from the dorms, she spun on her heel, leaving them to follow her to the Great Hall.
"What's going on?" Harry asked.
"We don't know," Daphne answered, slowing down a bit to let Ron and him catch up. "A message of sorts."
What did that mean?
"What kind of message?" Harry asked, looking from Daphne to Ron.
A beat passed and neither of them said anything.
"It's best we don't say," Daphne said eventually, glancing at the portraits they passed. "The walls have ears everywhere."
"We could get in serious trouble for even talking about it," Ron dropped his own voice a few octaves.
Harry shook his head. They weren't making any sense. "I don't understand."
"You will," was all Daphne said.
Harry didn't ask any more questions for the rest of the trip. They were very adamant in not answering any of them, much to his growing anxiety.
What could be so bad that they were scared of even saying the words?
Closing in on the entrance to the Great Hall, Harry could hear the mutterings of conversations. Daphne and Ron slowed their pace and Harry copied them.
They edged around the corner at what felt to Harry to be a snail's pace until, finally, they rounded it.
On the wall around the Great Hall was text in blocky white letters written in what looked like a poem.
"Awaken the Resistance,
Awaken the Land.
You, my friend, are special,
Let's go together,
In this foreign land.
Rally your friends,
Rally your neighbours,
We are on our way,
To free the land.
This land,
My home,
My identity,
We are on our way,
To free the land.
We have allies,
And enemies,
We are the Resistance,
Rally anyone you can, my friend,
Help whatever way you can, my friend.
T'is only the beginning,
This is a Revolution.
Free the land,
And it's people.
We are the people.
Let's free the land,
Me and you,
For a greater future.
On a mission to free the land,
For a better hope against tyrants.
Free Avalon,
It's armies,
It's men.
This is our home,
So beautiful,
T'is our Avalon!
Free the land,
For a better future,
This is the only Revolution.
T'is our land,
T'is our hope,
We will win it someday.
Someday,
We will win it someday."
So many questions flooded through Harry's mind at the words painted on the wall.
Who did this? How could this have happened? And the most important one: why did someone do this?
Harry's heart jumped to his throat as Professor Friend passed him, a serious looking Percy Weasley close behind. It seemed that he went off to find a professor when he saw the message.
Professor Friend's eyes skimmed over the poem, not a change in his professional mask. Slowly, he looked at all the students that were nervously standing around.
There were a few people shuffling about and when Friend didn't seem to find what he was looking for, he waved his wand and the writing disappeared. He continued to say nothing as he stepped into the Great Hall and calmly strode to his seat at the Head Table.
Steadily, the students followed Friend into the Great Hall, resuming their day like nothing at all happened.
Daphne and Ron started to follow, hesitating when they noticed that Harry wasn't following them.
"Harry?" Ron asked. Daphne looked over him curiously.
"You guys go on ahead. I'm gonna go back to the Common Room."
Ron opened his mouth, then closed it. "Sure, yeah, Kamerad. Okay." Daphne turned her curious gaze from Harry to Ron. "C'mon, Daphne," Ron said, turning away and walking into the Great Hall.
Daphne gave Harry one last curious glance, and then followed after Ron.
All at once, Harry was left alone in the hallway. He breathed in deeply through his nose, throwing the wall a cursory peek while he turned around, heading back the way he came.
It was just like Ron said. A resistance. But he'd thought that was a tad bit ridiculous, what were they resisting?
He'd suggested that knowing about a resistance could get one killed but it just didn't make any sense to Harry. Of course, resisting the Reichsführer would get them killed, but why would they ever want to resist in the first place?
Harry recalled back to his time at school, how students would pick on him and see him as a thing to be examined and looked at. But that wasn't anybody's fault but his own, truly. Übermenschen were better than the magical, so of course they were curious about them.
It was a fact.
You couldn't just deny the Übermensch what they were. Harry might've hated Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley, but that was because they treated him just like everyone else treated him, and even if that was their right, it would be nice to actually be treated like they were family once in a while.
So lost in his thoughts was he that Harry didn't hear the muttered, "Petrificus Totalus!"
Harry stood rigid still, limbs locked. His eyes darted around rapidly. What was going on!?
"Did you think you'd get away with that stunt, Potter?" a slightly familiar voice sneered. Who was that?
Harry toppled forward. He was unable to stop himself and he couldn't turn away! All he could do was wince as his face connected with the stone floor.
"Should've known the great Harry Potter was all a lie," the voice continued, louder now that he was closer.
Harry tried to reach for the wand that was in his pocket, but no matter what, he couldn't move. He didn't understand what was happening.
The person stopped inches away from him and all Harry could see was his shoes. He crouched down in front of him and Harry could feel a wand trail up and down his spine.
"Nothing but a Jew in human skin," the voice hissed and stood back up. He swung his leg back and into Harry's stomach.
The suffering was continuous. It hurt so much. But still, there was nothing he could do but take it.
The person grabbed Harry by his shoulder and twisted him over, allowing Harry's panic-filled eyes to meet with Cassius Warrington's.
"Recognize me, Potter?" Cassius leaned in, tilting his face this way and that. "Tell me, is Weasley in on this, too?"
Harry of course didn't say anything. Not that he probably would've if he were able, too paralyzed by fear.
Cassius stood up and slammed his foot down against Harry's leg, bending it in a way that no leg should bend.
He wanted to scream, and Cassius knew it judging by the sadistic gleam in his eye.
The pain started receding as Cassius took some pressure off, only for him to slam it back down, followed by a sickening crunch.
"Broke on me, Potter?" Cassius stepped away, looking at his leg in distaste. "Thought you'd be stronger than that. What, with being the great Boy-Who-Lived and all that."
The older Slytherin pointed his wand at Harry, muttering, "Diffindo."
Another wave of pure agony crashed into Harry, tearing into his stomach. And no matter how badly he wanted to stop it, he simply couldn't.
"Ah, Potter, you got blood on my shoes!" Cassius remarked before promptly kicking Harry in the head hard enough for the torture to explode in a ball of white behind his eyes.
Harry wanted to throw up, the pain hurt so bad.
Cassius leaned over Harry, applying pressure to his broken leg. "I wanted you to see my face while I did this. For you to know that you are powerless here because if you tell anyone about this, I'll tell everyone what you did."
Harry only dimly registered the words. He could only feel as Cassius stuck a finger through his ripping flesh and wanted to cry out at what felt like a searing fire under his skin.
Unbearable agony, Harry was almost glad to feel the sweet arms of unconsciousness cart him away.
"Potter?" a different voice, more soft and concerned echoed throughout his mind. "Oh, mein Reichsführer… What happened to you!?"