Would He Have Done Well in Slytherin?

by Estel POI

What if Harry hadn't know of Slytherin's dark reputation when he put on the Sorting Hat? What if he had let it sort him into Slytherin? If you ever wondered how a life in Slytherin would have changed Harry's relationship with Snape, or if Harry would've opposed Voldemort from Slytherin house, read this. "You would have done well in Slytherin." - The Sorting Hat

A fanfic in which Harry had never heard of Slytherin when he first put on the Sorting Hat.

Harry walked nervously to the chair and sat down. Professor McGonagall set the hat on his head, and it slid down over his eyes.

Hmmm, said a voice in Harry's ear. Interesting. Quite a bit of courage, and brains too. Ambition… you want to prove yourself, especially here. Don't mind breaking a few rules to get the job done either, eh? Well… it's tricky, but I think you'll do well in…

"SLYTHERIN!" The hat shouted.

Wondering what sort of house Slytherin was, Harry stood up and hurried toward the table decorated in green and silver. He avoided sitting next to Malfoy, remembering his behavior on the train and in Diagon Alley, sitting instead between a couple of students who were probably second or third years. As the applause died down, he looked across the Great Hall at Ron, who was looking back at him, clearly disappointed. Harry gave a small wave, and decided to find time to meet Ron later.

"You're Harry Potter," Said a burly older boy, leaning across the student on Harry's right. Harry nodded.

"I have a message for you from my father." Said the boy. Harry couldn't answer, as there was another round of applause as Ratabore, Anna was sorted into Hufflepuff.

Later that evening, Professor Snape, a thin, dark-haired man who looked like a bat led the students down several flights of stairs to the Slytherin common room. A glance at Ron as they left the Great Hall showed that he was being led away by a prefect, and it looked like prefects were leading away the other houses' first years too.

Snape chatted with Malfoy most of the way. Snape clearly knew Malfoy's family, which didn't seem like a good sign to Harry, but he decided not to worry about it.

When they entered the common room Snape gestured for the first years to sit down around an empty fireplace, and he joined them, leaning back in a misshapen armchair. When they were settled in, Snape said, "I see some of you I know, some of you I don't know, and some of you-" he glanced at Harry "-I know of. We will all get to know each other in time. This house will be your most loyal team, but you must be loyal to it. A tightly woven rope is much stronger than each of its strands, and together, Slytherins have accomplished great things, greater things, I think, than members of any other house."

He pointed at a portrait of an old man in a green wizard's hat as he said the last few words. The old man in the painting raised his wand and shot a jet of flame out of the picture into the fireplace, starting a blazing green fire.

The students jumped and gasped. Snape continued. "Merlin here is the only picture at Hogwarts who can do that. The rest are confined to life within their frames. And neighboring frames, I should say. Because Merlin knew how a portrait could do magic in the world outside of pictures, so does his painting. He was a Slytherin, and probably the greatest wizard who ever lived. There have been many great Slytherins, some of them quite recent…. You will work hard to maintain the glory of this house, and you will never betray each other. Snape spat out these last words like a threat.

"I expect," he continued, "all of you to take full advantage of the opportunities you will find in this school. The teachers are here to answer any question, and there are many magical rooms which I and your fellow students can show you how to use to your advantage. Anyone who wastes his opportunity here will be punished. But I don't expect to have to punish any of you. You are Slytherins, and you, most of you, dearly want to excel. If any of you shrink back from this… responsibility, I expect your fellow students here will make you regret it. No one in my house wants Slytherin to make a poor showing, and I expect them to remind you of that. While you must have each other's backs, I will not object if you deter each other from laziness and stupidity using unpleasant reminders. I will do the same, though as your teacher, I will do so only using non-magical means, through assigning detentions."

Harry felt a little uncomfortable about this, but also excited. He had never had a team before. Sure, he'd been on sports teams, always picked last, but none of them had cared how he'd done for more than the duration of the game. This house could be like a family to him, he hoped, and for once he'd have a chance to succeed at something. The idea of the Dursley's helping him achieve his goals was laughable. Yes, he was liking this house more by the second.

Snape flicked his wand and doors around the common room swung open and students behind them came out. "These students," Snape said, "will show you around the Slytherin part of the castle now." When you get back in one hour, I will prepare you all for your first potions lesson with me. Move along."

The next day after breakfast, an interesting transfiguration lesson, and an excellent potions lesson, the older boy who had spoken to Harry at dinner approached him in the corridor. "Harry Potter," he said. "I want to show you something. Follow me to the Quidditch pitch. I'm going to show you how to fly."

Harry had been looking forward to flying more than anything else. He hurried after the boy to the Entrance Hall and out into the bright morning.

"I don't know your name." He said as they reached a large field surrounded by six large hoops suspended high in the air.

"Tony Dolohov." Said the boy without stopping. He walked over to a shed, opened the door, and pulled out a broomstick. Climbing on, he said, "Get on behind me, Potter. Harry did so. Dolohov kicked off of the ground, and Harry felt the wind on his face as the sped up and forward.

They flew over the quidditch pitch, over the lawn, past the gardens and Hagrid's house, and to the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Harry wondered if they were allowed to be flying over the Forbidden Forest. Dumbledore had been quite clear the night before that it was, well Forbidden. But he wasn't about to argue with Dolohov, not when he was showing Harry how to fly. Though he really wasn't showing Harry how to fly; he was just flying with Harry on behind him.

"Can you let me try flying?" Harry asked.

"Not yet."

"Where are we going?"

Dolohov didn't answer.

A few minutes later, when Hogwarts castle was out of sight behind them Dolohov swooped downward toward a clearing. They landed hard. As they both climbed off the broom, Harry opened his mouth to ask what they were doing in the forest, but before he could, Dolohov pointed his wand at him, and Harry's legs went rigid. He lost his balance and fell. "Oi!" Said Harry, "What are—" before he could finish, Dolohov pointed his want at Harry again, and Harry's tongue curled back in his mouth.

Dolohov, looming over Harry, growled, "I told you I have a message from my father Harry Potter. Crucio!"

Suddenly Harry was in more pain than he could have imagined. He writhed in pain, only his legs could not. He screamed and screamed, feeling like every part of his body was splitting apart.

It stopped. "My father," shouted Dolohov, "Is in Azkaban! You hear me? Azkaban! He's in there, getting driven mad by dementors because of you. Because you, you little freak, murdered our lord. You murdered the Dark Lord! And now, I'm going to kill you for it. Not yet - crucio!"

More pain. And then it stopped. In the sudden absence of pain, Harry didn't notice that Dolohov had fallen on top of him until the weight of his body suddenly disappeared. He could not see what was happening, as he had somehow turned himself over without the use of his legs during the torture. He would have lain there for a long time, but a horrible crunching noise above him made him turn over and look.

Dolohov was suspended several yards above him, grasped in the mandibles of an enormous spider. The spider seemed to see Harry move, set the injured Dolohov down on the ground, and spoke.

"I can only carry one of you at once. If you recover in time to escape, tell Hagrid the centaurs are harassing us on our land. They are not honoring the boundary agreement. If you do not recover in time, you will be more food for my brothers. If I do capture you, do not try to escape. I will disable you with poison and leave you in a web with this human until we become hungry."

As the spider spoke, Dolohov had started to crawl away from it, then made a dash for the broomstick. The spider's eyes swiveled toward him as he jumped on. Dolohov wasn't quite quick enough. The spider shot out a long leg and pinned him to the ground. Lunging forward, it grabbed both Dolohov and the broomstick in its pincers and scuttled off.

Horrified, Harry flipped back onto his stomach and started to crawl away on his elbows. He'd gotten about thirty yards away when he started to feel a tingling in his legs, but it was another sixty before he was able to struggle to his feet and limp along on half-numb feet. He thought about trying to use magic. He knew next to nothing about spellwork, but since he had no idea where he was nor what other hostile creatures might lurk in the forest, he decided he had no choice but to try. He drew his wand and shot red sparks into the air. A few more tries, and he thought he might had shot some higher than the treetops. He pointed his wand ahead, and asked with all the force he could muster, "Are you pointing in the direction of Hogwarts castle?" Nothing happened. He tried a few more times with different phrasings. "Come on, just point me in the right direction!" He finally yelled. The wand twitched in his hand toward his left. Harry turned that way.

But before he had walked another minute, he reached a place where the trees were farther apart, and saw by the sun's position that he was traveling north. Hogwarts wasn't north. He wasn't sure where Hogwarts was exactly on a compass, because he and Dolohov hadn't flown in a completely straight line and he didn't know how far they'd flown in each direction. He turned West, thinking that was his best bet, but he knew he was likely to miss the castle grounds entirely. Maybe he would find civilization, at least, before he died of thirst or was eaten by monsters.

He had walked for maybe half a mile when he came to a sharp drop off of about ten feet. As he was trying to find the best way to climb down, he saw movement ahead and looked up. There before him stood a reddish brown beast with the body of a horse and the head, front legs, and wings of a giant hawk. Harry looked at it, and it looked back. Then it opened its mouth and let out a piercing shriek. Suddenly, there was motion all over the forest in front of him. In the very dim light of the dense forest, Harry hadn't seen them until they moved, but all ahead of him were dozens of hippogriffs.

Harry spun and ran as fast as he could. He ran until he could not run anymore. Falling to his knees and gasping for breath, he looked around him. He hadn't come far, as he had been running at a dead sprint and couldn't maintain that pace for long. He was back where he had turned west. As he struggled to catch his breath, he thought hard. I think the castle is west. I can't go due west from here, but it hardly matters. I don't know exactly what direction the castle is. I'll go north again for a while, then turn west again.

Wishing very much that he had some water, Harry stood and set out again.

Was that a hoofbeat? Harry turned so fast he cricked his neck. Blessedly, trotting up to him was not a hippogriff, but a centaur.

"Greetings," the centaur said. "How have you come to be in this forest, so far from others of your kind?"

"An older student from Hogwarts, where I live, brought me here on a broomstick because… as a trick. Hey, do you know which direction Hogwarts is?"

The centaur pointed southwest. "But you will not reach your home that way, foal. There are too many creatures there that would take your life."

Harry laughed humorlessly. "I just ran from giant spiders who wanted to eat me. I doubt anything can be worse than that."

The centaur stared at him, expression inscrutable. "The acromantulas are far from the worst of the creatures in this forest. There are banshees between you and Hogwarts, as are a manticore-dragon hybrid created by the groundskeeper Hagrid, a werewolf that has gone almost completely feral from isolation, and many other things. The castle is more than twenty miles away. You will not live."

The centaur turned and started to trot away.

"Wait!" Said harry. "Can you… take me there?" He would have asked to ride him, but he thought that might be rude.

The centaur snorted. "Human presumption. We are not your servants." Then it broke into a canter and soon was out of sight among the trees.

Harry stood rooted to the spot. He would not live if he walked back to Hogwarts. But he had no other way to get back to Hogwarts. Unless…

He could try to get the broomstick. They probably wouldn't have hung the broomstick in the web with Dolohov, and there was a good chance, wasn't there, that the spider had dropped the broomstick somewhere on its way. If Harry could retrace his steps, and he thought he could, he could probably find the broomstick. But could he do it without getting eaten? He doubted it. But he didn't see that he had a choice. Reluctantly, he turned and walked back the way he had come.

About 15 minutes later, he could see the clearing where he and Dolohov had landed. The sight reminded him of torture, and his heart started to pound. Trying to remember to worry only about what he was about to do, he crept forward. No spiders in sight. Deciding it was best to get it done as fast as possible, he started running.

This was the weakness in his plan. He hadn't seen where the spider had taken Dolohov. But the spider was too big not to leave a trail, and he was betting that he could follow it. Sure enough, there were broken tree branches and huge footprints in the ground. Harry ran, remembering to watch the ground for the broomstick, then something clamped around his waist. For a second, Harry dared to hope it was a stray branch. But then he was lifted into the air, and a rasping voice said, "I told you I would catch you if you stayed. It should have been obvious I would catch you if you followed."

The spider crashed through the bushes, Harry twisting around trying to escape. Then it stopped. Harry was upside down and disoriented so couldn't see much, but he felt the spider's weight shift, and something long and sticky slapped across his body. The spider released him. Harry tried to twist to land on his feet, but found he couldn't move. The long, sticky thing was stuck to his clothing. Craning his head, he saw what it was: a thread in a huge spiderweb.

Another thread wrapped around him. The spider was binding him into the web. Harry struggled to free himself, but the spider said, "If you are difficult, I will bite you, and my poison will paralyze and kill you."

Harry stopped. The spider finished tying him in, and walked off without another word. When he could no longer see or hear it, Harry dared to look around. He could see Dolohov in a web a stone's throw away. He he couldn't be sure in the dim light, but he thought it was the broomstick caught on the web halfway between Dolohov and the ground. Harry started to struggle, but the more he moved, the more the web stuck to him. He bit the web, aware that he might end up with his mouth stuck to it, and found to his surprise that his saliva kept the web from sticking to him. Wishing he had a lot of water, he chewed it until the strand broke. Unfortunately, he didn't feel much freer. The web strands around him were stuck to each other in several places, reinforcing each other, and every inch of web that touched him stuck to his robes. He thought he might end up needing to take his robes off.

After what felt like an eternity of chewing, occasionally interspersed with waiting for more saliva to come when his dry mouth stuck to the web, Harry's upper body came loose from the web, leaving only his legs attached. He twisted, trying to get his mouth to his legs, but he couldn't use his arms, which were still glued to his body by web. He managed to get to a piece of web wrapped around his thighs, and started chewing. He wasn't sure how he was going to get to the web around his shins, but when he finished gnawing through the higher piece of web, the bottom of his robes ripped, unable to support his weight now that it was concentrated into one spot.

Harry landed on his back, and spent a dangerous amount of time trying to draw breath. The spiders could be back at any time. As he stood up, his eyes fell on something. A scattering of objects around the webs: a hat, a half empty bottle, a wallet, a knife. A knife! He picked up the knife awkwardly, trying not to think why there were human possessions scattered around the spiderwebs, and hacked at the web binding his arms, but the knife stuck to it and barely cut. Harry picked up the bottle and poured a little onto the web. It dissolved. Encouraged, Harry ran to the broomstick a little onto the web it was stuck to, and the broomstick came loose. It hovered about three feet in the air, waiting to be mounted. Putting the bottle in his pocket, Harry threw his leg over it, but before he tried to fly, he looked up at Dolohov. Yes, he'd tortured Harry, but wouldn't it be better to let him be punished than to let him be eaten by spiders?

He hesitated. If he took Dolohov, he might throw Harry off the broom halfway back to Hogwarts. He imagined trying to convince Professor Snape that the reason there was no more Dolohov was that he had tortured Harry and Harry had had no choice but to leave him. What would people think had really happened. Dolohov moaned. He was clearly injured, at least concussed, but he might recover.

Harry decided to try. He couldn't climb the web without getting stuck in it, so he stayed on the broom.

"Errm… FLY!" He said. Nothing happened. "Go! Giddyup! Let's go!" Harry kicked off the ground, hoping to give it the idea. It worked. The broom flew up and forward, and as Harry adjusted his grip, it stopped and hovered in midair.

Carefully, and with several mistakes, he practiced rising, diving, turning, and stopping. There wasn't time to learn much. Soon he returned to the web and poured water onto the web around him. Dolohov seemed to be at least partly conscious, and he gripped the tail of the broomstick to keep from falling. When Harry was done, he pulled himself onto the back of the broom. Harry flew upward until they were above the trees. The sun was low in the sky. Flying toward it and a little south, he flew faster and faster. It was wonderful. Harry had never loved anything so much. It was much better than flying behind Dolohov. In control of the broom, he felt like a bird, more at home in the sky than on the ground.

Dolohov seemed to be recovering. Though Harry wasn't paying much attention, Dolohov was no longer slumping against Harry's back and seemed to be able to balance now.

On the horizon, Harry could see the towers of the castle. He urged the broom to fly faster, when suddenly Dolohov grabbed his shoulders and wrenched him sideways. Harry held tight to the broom handle and yelled at Dolohov to stop, but he only shook Harry, trying to break his grip on the broom. Then Harry saw it. A form in the sky between them and the castle to large to be a bird. Was it a hippogriff? No, the shape was wrong. Were there giant magical birds? It was flying toward them, and as it approached Harry cried, "Look! What is it?"

"Nice try!"

"No really, Tony, what is that?

Dolohov glanced where Harry was staring, and gasped. As Harry had hoped, his grip slackened and Harry swung back into position on the broom. Dolohov grabbed him again, but this time he was prepared, his arms and legs wrapped tightly around the broom. Dolohov was much bigger though, and stronger. He pushed until Harry was upside down on the broom, then yelled, "What the… Potter fly! Hurry!"

Harry pulled himself upright and saw that the strange beast was much closer. He couldn't see the color as it was between them and the sun. If it was a bird, it had a broad forked tail and was soaring, not flapping its wings.

"Is it some kind of small dragon?" Harry asked, guessing wildly.

"I don't know." Dolohov replied, sounding scared. "But whatever it is, lets get away from it, fast."

Dolohov could not control the broom from behind him, Harry realized, so unless he could get Harry off immediately he needed Harry to steer the broom away from the thing.

Limbs still clutching the broom, Harry turned 45 degrees right, hoping to avoid the creature while still getting closer to the castle where he'd be safe from Dolohov.

Dolohov screamed, "No, Potter, fly away from it! TURN AROUND!"

"Don't be an idiot." Harry replied, and didn't turn the broom any farther.

It wasn't flying as fast as before. It seemed to be getting tired from the weight of two people, or perhaps it was confused by the conflicting directions from its passengers. Could a magic broom be confused?

Dolohov grabbed Harry again, apparently deciding it was better to waste time pulling Harry off the broom in order to fly directly away from the thing.

He managed to break Harry's grip, but Harry's legs were still wrapped around the broom. Dangling upside down, Harry tried to reach for the broom handle. Dolohov screamed. Taking advantage of his distraction, Harry pulled himself back onto the broom and held tight, waiting for another attack. Dolohov was pointing. The thing had turned to follow them.

Still more afraid of Dolohov, who he knew was trying to kill him, than of the creature, which might not be, Harry flew directly toward the castle. The broom was going slower and slower.

"It's almost got us, you idiot!" Yelled Dolohov.

Harry ignored him.

"This broom is only fast enough for one of us!" Said Dolohov. "Crucio!"

Harry jerked forward, his face hitting the end of the broom, and thrashed wildly.

"Crucio!"

And Harry fell, crashing toward the treetops far, too far, below.

And something caught his arm, wrenching his shoulder painfully and jerking him up. He was pulled violently onto something that was neither the broom nor the ground. Shaking and twitching from the pain of torturing curse, Harry hardly noticed that he had fallen, survived, or injured his shoulder. He could not think. He could not even open his eyes.

When he finally could, he wished he hadn't. He was seated on nothing, floating in midair a hundred feet above the ground. He could feel something wide between his legs, as wide as a good sized chair, but he was nothing there. He lurched instinctively back, hit another something, and jumped sideways.

Something caught the back of his robe and yanked him upright. And a voice inches behind his head said, "Hold still, Harry. Do you want to die?"

Still confused, Harry took a moment to register the threat, then twisted around to see who was holding him still.

It was Snape, flying behind him. His legs, like Harry's were straddling absolutely nothing.

"This thestral is tame," he said, "But I wouldn't thrash around so much. Even if you don't fall, it might startle and throw you off."

Harry looked at him, bemused.

"Thestrals are invisible to anyone who hasn't seen death, but they're just big horses that eat meat and can fly. We're riding one."

Instead of answering about the thestral, Harry asked, "How did you get here?"

"On the thestral, obviously. Why did you try to avoid me?"

"Mulciber thought the big flying creature was going to kill us."

"I might as well have if you'd avoided me better or fallen a little sooner."

Harry thought how bizarre Snape had looked, how inhuman. No one normally was in that position without a horse visible between their legs, and certainly not in oversized robes.

They landed next to a cabin that apparently belonged to Hagrid, to whom Snape handed off the invisible thestral.

"When one of my first years didn't turn for classes or dinner, I went looking for him. When I learned an older student had flown him out over the Forbidden Forest, I walked in, thinking since I didn't see them in the air they must have crashed. I could not locate them, but fortunately I came across one of your thestrals, which allowed me to ride it to search for them from the air. It noticed them before I did, and flew me toward them. The two idiots survived. Tony, the elder boy, remained on the broom."

"Wonderful!" Said Hagrid. "Harry, Professor, would you like to stay for some treacle tart? I'd love to hear how Harry's first day went."

"I think not." Said Snape. "Harry must come to my office and explain to me what the devil he and Dolohov were doing all this time."

Snape led Harry back to the castle and down toward his office. As they walked, Harry started shaking again, exhausted, the memory of torture fresh in his mind and body. Snape said nothing all the way into his office.

He sat down in a chair, and motioned for Harry to sit in the other.

"Professor Snape," Harry said, "I don't know. I don't understand. Tony Dolohov brought me to the forest. He attacked me. I don't know why…."

"Look me in the eye and tell me exactly what happened."

Harry started to answer, but Snape interrupted. "I said look me in the eye."

Harry looked into his black eyes and told Snape everything. Several times, Snape brusquely reminded him to keep maintain eye contact, and Harry was too tired to be irritated.

Snape was silent for a time, then said, "Several students at Hogwarts, in Slytherin house, will hate you because you somehow defeated the Dark Lord.

Dolohov will be expelled for what he did, as will any student who tries to do the same. If he were of age, he would be sent to the wizard prison, Azkaban, for performing the cruciatus curse. Tell me if you must, if such a thing happens, but I would prefer not to handle it. There are other professors who would be more interested in punishing the children of Death Eaters.

Harry looked at him, shocked. Snape looked uncomfortable. Then he seemed to reach a decision.

Snape breathed out slowly through his long nose, then said quietly, "I knew your mother as a child. We came to Hogwarts together. She was a truly good friend. We went our separate ways in our fifth year, because of my own mistakes. I can never remedy the mistakes I made, then or after. She was a good woman, and I hope you know that she loved you deeply."

Harry didn't know what to say. Snape implied he might not want to stop people from torturing Harry, then opened up to him about his mother?

Finally he tried to reply, but found a lump in his throat prevented him. After a long pause, Snape stood up and took a small jar of dark purple liquid, uncorked it, and held it out to Harry.

"Drink."

Harry took it and drank. Warmth spread through his body, and vision seemed to clear. He put the bottle down, hands no longer shaking.

They sat silently for a while, then Snape spoke. "When the Dark Lord was in power, I spied on him for Albus Dumbledore as a double agent. He thought I was spying on Dumbledore for him. If I ever seem to sympathize with him or his followers, it is because, if he ever returns, I must plausibly be able to claim that I was merely spying on Dumbledore all these years so that I can remain in the Dark Lord's trust. So I can spy on him again.

Harry thought about it. It explained a lot about Snape. And Snape had saved him from Dolohov, and promised to see Dolohov expelled. He had no reason to promise that if he intended to renege.

Deciding to trust Snape a bit, he asked something that had been bothering him. "Do you really think the Dark Lord will come back?"

Snape's eyes sparkled strangely. "The Dark Lord took measures to ensure that he could not be killed easily, if at all. He did not leave a body behind, though the curse that rebounded on him would have simply killed an ordinary man. It is also certain that he was not wearing a body when he left your parents' house. There is sufficient evidence to support the belief that he still exists, somewhere in the world, and he undoubtedly intends to obtain a body that will allow him to perform powerful magic again."

Harry thought about this for a minute. "You said that Slytherins do great things," he said. "I think I know what great thing I want to do. I want to kill Lord Voldemort. For good."

Snape looked intently at Harry. Harry continued, looking Snape in the eye. "Someone has to kill him. He'll hurt more innocent people otherwise. And he's already had a go at me. I think it's my turn to try to kill him. Someone should, and why not me?"

Snape rocked slightly in his chair, uncertain, thoughtful. Then he spoke. "I will tell you something, on the condition that you promise me to tell no one, and to let me teach you to guard your mind by magic so no one can read your thoughts. And that if you fail to learn this, I will wipe what I have told you from your memory."

Harry considered this and nodded. Snape continued.

"I loved your mother dearly. She was the sister I never had. More, eventually. She was my guiding star, the good I looked up to and wanted to love and guard and help forever. I still love her. And though I accept that she did not love me in the end, I would… protect her son. I would be more than I head of house to you. With your consent, I will try to be for you what Lily cannot. Your ambition to kill the Dark Lord is a worthy one, and I know she would be proud. Can you let me help you as she would have done? She and your father?"

Surprised, Harry looked back at Snape's narrow face. "I… Yes. I think so."

Snape left to find Dolohov and take him to the headmaster's office. As Harry walked to the dormitories—Snape had told him he should sleep a lot after experiencing the cruciatus curse—most of the Slytherins were waiting for him, and gathered around him to check if he was all right, offer him help with the classes he'd missed, and try to use healing spells on him.

In his bed, Harry thought that Hogwarts was exactly what he'd needed ever since he was a year old. Some in his own house hated him, and would have to kill Voldemort, some day. But with help from Snape and many other Slytherins, everything might be all right for Harry, on the whole.

On the other side of the castle, several floors up, the Sorting Hat muttered to itself, "Yes. He will do well in Slytherin."