8: The Start-Of-Term-Feast

"Harry Potter!"

For the last time, the name was called but still, no student showed up. Harry observed Professor McGonagall turning to look at the High Table where Dumbledore was seated. His silver hair was the only thing that shone as brightly as the ghosts. She seemed asking for help. The man nodded, as if urging her to move on with the ceremony and they would deal with the matter at a later time.

Thus, the last of the remaining students were called in to move forward. Harry clapped with the others when "Zabini, Blaise" was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

He looked down at his plate only realizing how hungry he was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago.

Finally, Dumbledore got to his feet. He looked a bit grim unlike the usual beaming face he portrayed in his Chocolate Frog Card.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts. I wish to say only a few words but due to recent events, there are important matters that needed to be attended to. Regardless, please enjoy the feast. Thank you!"

Everybody clapped. And then, instead of going back to his seat, Dumbledore left the table with some of the teachers trailing behind him.

"Do you think he's alright?" Harry asked the prefect who introduced himself as Graham Colton.

"Who? Dumbledore?" Graham snorted. "That old coot's going to be the least of your worries, mate. Potatoes?"

He meant the boy, Harry Potter but his mouth fell open at the sight of the table before he could utter any word.

The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he'd liked to eat in one table: roasted beef, roasted chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roasted potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

No wonder his Uncle Teddy was fond of the saying, "you'll never get as much food as the ones you get at Hogwarts." He must have learned it from experience!

Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious.

The noise created by the missing student had finally died down. Everyone had eaten as much as they could. Soon, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later, the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could imagine, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-o, rice pudding…

As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families. If there was something in common about the Slytherins, it's the fact that most of them were pure-blooded witches or wizards. Unlike the other three houses where the discussion circulated on how some of them didn't know they were wizards until they got their Hogwarts letters, the students in Harry's house talked about their family business and their most recent affairs in the wizarding society.

Take Pansy Parkinson, for example. Harry found out her mother was senior editor of the famous Witch Weekly Magazine in which his Uncle Teddy made a subscription. Crabbe and Goyle's parents worked as co-owners of an elite magical security force that produced the best Aurors in Britain (that explains everything about them then) while the rest, like Malfoy, Nott, and Greengrass were members of the Wizengamot – Wizarding Britain's high court of law and parliament. Of course, Draco was very vocal about this fact.

Now Zabini must be the epitome of a true Slytherin among the students Harry had met. His mother was a wealthy socialite who got richer and richer after marrying pureblooded wizards quite a few times – her husbands perished through mysterious means and he doesn't seem bothered by this.

There's no wonder people think this house was sanctuary for the cunning and the ambitious. This was where the influential thrived for greatness. Greatness that most high ranked family like his had lusted on for many, many years – a hunger for power that even led some of them to their downfall.

The Blacks became prominent in Britain since the time of the Middle Ages. Their aristocratic lineage had flowed down the line of nobles until someone along that line tainted their reputation for their greed, arrogance, and their obsession to Evil Magic. They were feared by both nobility and peasantry for their ruthlessness in the past. Even other wizarding families cowered on their glory. That is why no one would dare question Harry of his lineage even when he really didn't come from the direct descendants of the Blacks. Not that it was public knowledge to begin with.

His uncle made sure of it.

Harry came from a long-lost bloodline of the Black ancestry. As Edward mentioned once, a great cousin was severed from the tapestry after conjugating a Muggleborn – a grave misconduct that violated the family dictum: Tujours pur. Meaning, "Always Pure". None of the original members were left to continue the lineage. Most died while the ones who lived were locked up in Azkaban. And as far as the Magical Law was made known of, Harry and his uncle were the remaining descendants of the once thriving family. Thus, the Lordship were rested on their hands.

His musings were interrupted by the sight of a teacher on the high table. He had greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and a sallow skin. Harry must've imagined it but the hooked-nosed man looked past another teacher with a turban straight into Harry's eyes. His curiosity took over and asked Graham the prefect who was enjoying his bowl of trifle next to him.

"Who's that teacher talking to the turbaned guy?"

"Oh, you mean Professor Quirrell? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape, our head of the house. He teaches potions, but rumor has it that he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Harry watched him for a while, but Snape was no longer looking at his direction again.

At last, the desserts also disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore is now back from where he had gone to. The hall fell silent as he got to his feet and stood up on the podium for the closing address.

"Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's eyes flashed in the direction of the red-headed twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry's brows were raised. "He's not serious, or is he now?" He muttered to Graham.

"Not sure," said the older boy, frowning at Dumbledore. "But if you ask my opinion, warning children of an impending death is synonymous to an invitation to actually do them. Only idiots would heed to that caution honestly."

The other students in their table looked among themselves. Something did seem odd with the headmaster's notice. However, their ponderings didn't last that long because Dumbledore had already instructed the prefects to guide them to their dorms.

The Slytherin first years followed Graham through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall until they reached another massive doorway at the main entrance. Harry's legs felt like lead again but only because he felt so tired and full. He was so sleepy even to take note of the set of stone steps that descended deep into the dungeons. It crisscrossed into different directions until they stopped in front of a stone wall with elaborate carvings of serpents and dragons coiling around the Slytherin crest.

"A password is required to enter the common rooms," said Graham to the bunch of first-years crowding behind him. "It changes every fortnight so you may want to make sure not to forget them. You can find the password posted on the notice board, and never - EVER bring any students from other houses into the common room nor reveal the password. Severe punishment awaits to anyone who violates the rule. Understood?"

They all nodded obediently.

Deeming their agreement acceptable, Graham whirled to face the wall and spoke, "Lord of Vermilion" and the dragon statue's eyes glowed green. It uncoiled itself from the serpent which did the same thing and the stone wall parted, revealing a passageway that led into what looked like an enormous drawing room.

They stopped in the middle of a dungeon-like hall with greenish lamps and chairs. This extended partway under the lake which cast a green glow over the stained-glass windows. There were lots of low backed couches - black and dark green, button-tufted made of leather. Decorative skulls are displayed on the walls and on dark wood cupboards. Harry noticed a Chess set on one of the wooden tables, and the walls were decorated with tapestries featuring the adventures of famous Medieval Slytherins. It has quite a grand atmosphere, but a bit cold.

"Welcome to the Slytherin Common Room," Graham announced. "Girls' dormitories are on the left; boys' are on the right. You will find that your belongings are already unpacked under your beds. But before everyone retires for the night our head of the house would like a quick word with you lot. Please wait here in a bit, " he said and then exited haughtily.

They didn't have to wait that long. A swirl of a cloak and Professor Snape appeared before them. He looked more daunting up close, Harry observed. His flowing black robes reminded him of an overgrown bat and his eyes, black and cold, are empty they made you think of dark tunnels. Like Professor McGonagall, he had the gift of keeping a crowd silent without effort.

"Welcome to the House of the Cunning," he drawled in his icy-cold voice. "Knowing the Hat's unquestionable wisdom in sorting you to this house, I expect you lot less a dimwit than the rest of the students admitted in this school. No matter, I still want to impose some rules every Slytherin must be capable of instilling in their tiny minds…"

Nobody flinched – both out of fear and (in Harry's case) amusement.

"… first, Slytherins protect each other," he continued. "Look out for one another in the halls, protect each other when other houses unite against them by all means, let alone causing them any harm. No first-year student from this house is allowed to walk on his own or in a group without a higher-year student in tow. Younger ones are more prone to hexes and curses in the corridors than the older ones."

Harry suddenly remembered his uncle's words. "A lot of people will think our family is bad because it had a tainted reputation – years and years of resentment against half-bloods and muggleborns and all of that stuff." And Snape's words started to make sense in his head now. Not only his family is threatened by potential bullying from people around the school, but other pureblood families as well. Slytherins in general.

"Second, we do not denounce our own," he said. "Whatever you see – whatever you hear – you are not to report it to anyone except your head of the house. There is a reason these walls are protected by spells and enchantments and that includes your discretion."

Oh great, Harry thought. He wouldn't need to worry about smuggling any of his great-grandfather Orion's dark artifacts in school then. As if he'd get anywhere close to those whilst he's alive.

"Third, we do not show our weakness outside these walls. Whatever dispute you have with your fellow Slytherin you are to consult a prefect or me whichever comes first and you will settle it here in this common room by any means – Hit each other's fists or Salazar forbid curse each other to death, I don't care. You will not give the other houses a reason to use your foolishness against you, thus, ruining your own house and yourselves."

"And lastly, as a member of this house, you are expected to be wise enough not to break any rules in this school or if the situation calls for, do not let yourselves get caught or I will ensure your punishment will be no less than painful than the worst of your nightmares myself."

Harry swallowed a lump in his throat. He was right. This man was definitely not someone you want to cross with.

"Did I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir…" Their responses were barely a whimper.

"Very well. Carry on then. I do not want to see anyone roaming outside their dormitories after this meeting. Breakfast tomorrow is at eight. Do – not – be – late!"

Everyone scurried to their dorms as fast as they could. Harry found himself in a room with rectangular layout occupied by six four-poster beds. Each had its own nightstand, desk, and wardrobe with another desk on the foot of each bed. In the middle corner was a fireplace complete with emerald green settees and fluffy cushions in them.

Harry found his bed at the far end of the room, next to the glass window that show nothing in it but the dark-green bottom of the Black Lake. Too tired to talk much, he pulled on his pajamas and fell into bed.

Zabini made small talks while changing to his own set of pajamas whilst Draco disappeared to Merlin knows where with a set of towels and folded clothes tucked in his arm. Must've headed to the bathroom, he thought. Crabbe and Goyle didn't bother changing at all and threw themselves into their beds immediately, and Nott was rummaging his trunk for something he's not interested to find out what.

Harry considered sparing a few minutes writing to his uncle just to give him a quick update of his first night in school but decided it can wait tomorrow evening. He would definitely understand if his nephew was too tired and too sleepy to complain about mad headmasters, creepy heads of houses, and lousy staff who couldn't even discern losing a student until the sorting night.

Nope. Those can definitely wait for tomorrow night.

A few moments gone by, and the room was already filled with silence. Well, not really, unless you don't count the loud snores coming from Crabbe and Goyle's bed. Lucky it didn't cause him any trouble waking up on time the next day.