CHAPTER THREE: Being A Snake
The Slytherin table burst into applause as they heard the 'Sl-' in 'Slytherin'. Oddly enough, it's the only table that was very happy upon the announcement. Everyone else is looking at the black thing resting on Harry's head, as if blaming it.
Dumbledore, also shocked with an is-it-really-true look, came to think of the fact that it is the Sorting Hat who said it all, not just an ordinary baseball cap.
Harry walked don to the table shakily as the Slytherin prefect, Tringy Wanton, gave him a heavy pat on his shoulder. He sat on the left side of the table, from the teacher's point of view, right beside Gregory.
"Zabini, Blaise," McGonagall called, looking at the last one to be sorted.
"Hey there, Harry! Boy, am I glad to see you with us!" Tringy said, ruining Harry's already unruly hair. Harry just smiled.
"SLYTHERIN!" yelled the hat.
"Oh, good! Another member," Tringy said.
The sorting ceremony came to an end, and another odd thing to be considered was that the applause given to Ron Weasley (sorted to Gryffindor) had greater intensity than that of Harry's. Well, it'd really be such since Ron has 3 tables clapping for him while Harry's got only one. But Harry's a lot more popular than Ron, whatever.
The headmaster stood up, beaming at everyone with a bright look on his face.
"Welcome to another wonderful year at Hogwarts. I wouldn't want to keep you waiting, so let me say this: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
"Thank you!"
Harry saw everyone cheering, but he didn't know if he should do the same. He thinks it's kinda funny, so he planned to ask Tringy. But before that…
"Want some fries, Harry?" Blaise asked.
"What fries?"
Harry couldn't believe what he's seeing. At that moment, the plates and goblets were filled up. He'd bet everything that the Dursley's wouldn't give him such amounts of food on any of his birthdays. From roast beef and chicken to peppermint humbugs; all were mouth-watering, and all were at the table.
It was only that time he realized how much food were at the table, and only then he noticed that Draco was sitting in front of him.
I think he's mad at me.
Draco only looked at Harry when he was sorted to Slytherin, and after that, a long stare at his plate. If only stares could pierce he could have bore two deep holes on the table. He would talk to everyone in the table except for Harry, ask questions except about Harry, and make friends except to Harry. He still hadn't forgotten how Harry refused his offer in the train.
I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks…
"Uhmm… Draco?" Harry said, with a let's-make-up tone.
Draco took a bite on the roast chicken, ignoring Harry.
"I guess we'll be friends after all. I mean, we're sorted in the same house," Harry continued. "Okay, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been with that red-haired punk."
Draco had a sip on his juice, and then looked at Harry.
"Friends?" Harry asked, offering his hand.
After about five seconds, "Sure," Draco said, tapping Harry's hand. He was laughing.
"You should have seen your face!" Draco teased.
"You should have said it all along!" Harry replied, throwing a piece of fry, chuckling.
"Man, you looked so serious!" Draco, teased again.
When Harry was just about to ask Draco about come thing in the wizard world, a pearly white figure floated behind Draco. Harry dropped the bunch of fries he's holding.
Harry had never seen such morbid looking ghost in his entire life. He has blank, staring eyes that added eeriness to his gaunt face. And to make things worst, his robes are stained with silver blood.
Draco turned to see what caught Harry's attention. "Oh, he's ----"
"The Bloody Baron," He and Tringy said in unison. "Hi there, sir!" Tringy greeted.
The Bloody Baron was looking at the Gryffindor table, gave a mean look, and turned to Tringy. "A pleasant evening to you. And of course, to the newcomers, welcome to Slytherin."
"Sir, let me introduce Harry Potter, the famous boy who lived, you know him, right?" Tringy asked.
"The son of James, from Gryffindor. I heard the hat would've sorted him to Slytherin if only he didn't specify his preferred house, if only Evans was sorted in Slytherin too." The Bloody Baron answered. "Too bad, I was already dead when you were born."
"How come you're all covered with blood?" Harry asked.
"Don't ask, you'll lose your appetite. Besides, you're using ketchup." The Baron replied.
The deserts came as impressive as the previous ones, and they all ate then as well as the first batch. Time seemed to pass quickly since Harry, Draco, Gregory and Vincent were very much engrossed in their conversation. They came to a halt when Dumbledore got to his feet.
The start-of-term notices were given to the students, including the forbidden forest and the third floor corridor warnings. After all the talking, everyone sang the Hogwarts tune, and before he knew it, Harry found himself walking with the rest of the Slytherin pack, heading to the door of the Great Hall.
"We have the dungeons as our house rooms. Don't worry, it's cozy. You'll love it there." Tringy assured.
As they were walking down the corridor, Harry saw from a distance a bunch of walking sticks floating high in mid-air.
"Wh ----- ", Harry pointed to the duster.
"Oh, " Tringy noticed. "It might be Peeves, the Poltergeist. Don't mind him, as long as the Baron's around, he won't be a trouble." The Baron winked at them.
They marched down the stairs to the basement, passing huge portraits with moving pictures. On their left was a dancing maiden, hopping, which makes her head unseen every time the springs up. On the other side was an old man trying to light a candle. No wonder, it's rather dark in there. But as they turned right upon a corner, a brightly lit broad stone corridor welcomed them.
"Are we there yet?" Blaise asked, looking around.
"Just a bit," Tringy replied. "Prof. Snape asked me to lead you through the long way. Actually, some say there are 8 paths made that lead to the Slytherin common room, but only 3 are commonly used. I haven't got the slightest idea where the other 5 are."
While listening to Tringy, Harry was looking at the portraits of various foods on the stonewalls. Although he was already full, he couldn't help looking at the fresh-looking dishes. There was a roast turkey portrait, a squash-and-celery one, even a silver bowl full of fruits.
They turned right again at the next corner, following a dim passageway. After a minute, Harry found himself standing in front of a bare, damp stonewall with the rest of the group.
"In case you don't know the password, just ask me," Tringy said. "Triggerspike!", he continued, facing the wall.
At that instance, the wall rumbled mildly, and slowly parted, revealing a door. The first years came first.
"This," Tringy said proudly, "is the Slytherin common room."
Harry marveled at the unusual cool temperature inside, even though greenish lamps were burning here and there. The only warm place was in front of the fireplace.
The rectangular common room was quite spacious. Harry sat down on the mossy-green sofa facing the fire. A third year girl named Claria Coalback sat beside him (I can't believe you're really here!). At about 11:45, only four students remained in the common room, and Harry was heading down the passageway to their dorm.
He has Draco, Vincent, Gregory and Blaise as his dorm mates. He entered the room.
"Is not!"
"Is to!"
Gregory and Vincent were shouting at each other. Harry came in, puzzled.
"Arguing over the meal a while ago, Crabbe said the chicken was roasted in butter, Goyle said t'was soy sauce," Draco said, sort of sleepy yet irritated.
"Can't you even distinguish the difference between salty and creamy?" Goyle bellowed.
"Can't you just accept the fact that it's roasted, period?" Blaise interrupted. Harry heard him say "how shallow" under his nose.
Harry lied down in his four-poster, looking at the silver-and-green draping above him. He stared dreamily on the snake design above him. I'm in Slytherin. He thought. I'm a snake…
"Butter!" Vincent said it again.
"Soy sauce!" Gregory replied in anger.
"Shut up, ok!" Draco shouted. "Sheesh, I can't believe I'm having them as my friends," he said to himself while turning his lamp off.
"SILENCE!" Harry had enough.
Everyone looked at Harry's bed through the dark. A rush of deafening silence filled the room, after it echoed Harry's words.
Better, Harry thought.
"It's butter," Vincent whispered.
"Soy – sauce," Gregory replied in a low tone.
Harry realized his remark had no effect. He covered himself with his blanket, hoping to sleep well. One day down, the rest of the year to go…
The Slytherin table burst into applause as they heard the 'Sl-' in 'Slytherin'. Oddly enough, it's the only table that was very happy upon the announcement. Everyone else is looking at the black thing resting on Harry's head, as if blaming it.
Dumbledore, also shocked with an is-it-really-true look, came to think of the fact that it is the Sorting Hat who said it all, not just an ordinary baseball cap.
Harry walked don to the table shakily as the Slytherin prefect, Tringy Wanton, gave him a heavy pat on his shoulder. He sat on the left side of the table, from the teacher's point of view, right beside Gregory.
"Zabini, Blaise," McGonagall called, looking at the last one to be sorted.
"Hey there, Harry! Boy, am I glad to see you with us!" Tringy said, ruining Harry's already unruly hair. Harry just smiled.
"SLYTHERIN!" yelled the hat.
"Oh, good! Another member," Tringy said.
The sorting ceremony came to an end, and another odd thing to be considered was that the applause given to Ron Weasley (sorted to Gryffindor) had greater intensity than that of Harry's. Well, it'd really be such since Ron has 3 tables clapping for him while Harry's got only one. But Harry's a lot more popular than Ron, whatever.
The headmaster stood up, beaming at everyone with a bright look on his face.
"Welcome to another wonderful year at Hogwarts. I wouldn't want to keep you waiting, so let me say this: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
"Thank you!"
Harry saw everyone cheering, but he didn't know if he should do the same. He thinks it's kinda funny, so he planned to ask Tringy. But before that…
"Want some fries, Harry?" Blaise asked.
"What fries?"
Harry couldn't believe what he's seeing. At that moment, the plates and goblets were filled up. He'd bet everything that the Dursley's wouldn't give him such amounts of food on any of his birthdays. From roast beef and chicken to peppermint humbugs; all were mouth-watering, and all were at the table.
It was only that time he realized how much food were at the table, and only then he noticed that Draco was sitting in front of him.
I think he's mad at me.
Draco only looked at Harry when he was sorted to Slytherin, and after that, a long stare at his plate. If only stares could pierce he could have bore two deep holes on the table. He would talk to everyone in the table except for Harry, ask questions except about Harry, and make friends except to Harry. He still hadn't forgotten how Harry refused his offer in the train.
I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks…
"Uhmm… Draco?" Harry said, with a let's-make-up tone.
Draco took a bite on the roast chicken, ignoring Harry.
"I guess we'll be friends after all. I mean, we're sorted in the same house," Harry continued. "Okay, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been with that red-haired punk."
Draco had a sip on his juice, and then looked at Harry.
"Friends?" Harry asked, offering his hand.
After about five seconds, "Sure," Draco said, tapping Harry's hand. He was laughing.
"You should have seen your face!" Draco teased.
"You should have said it all along!" Harry replied, throwing a piece of fry, chuckling.
"Man, you looked so serious!" Draco, teased again.
When Harry was just about to ask Draco about come thing in the wizard world, a pearly white figure floated behind Draco. Harry dropped the bunch of fries he's holding.
Harry had never seen such morbid looking ghost in his entire life. He has blank, staring eyes that added eeriness to his gaunt face. And to make things worst, his robes are stained with silver blood.
Draco turned to see what caught Harry's attention. "Oh, he's ----"
"The Bloody Baron," He and Tringy said in unison. "Hi there, sir!" Tringy greeted.
The Bloody Baron was looking at the Gryffindor table, gave a mean look, and turned to Tringy. "A pleasant evening to you. And of course, to the newcomers, welcome to Slytherin."
"Sir, let me introduce Harry Potter, the famous boy who lived, you know him, right?" Tringy asked.
"The son of James, from Gryffindor. I heard the hat would've sorted him to Slytherin if only he didn't specify his preferred house, if only Evans was sorted in Slytherin too." The Bloody Baron answered. "Too bad, I was already dead when you were born."
"How come you're all covered with blood?" Harry asked.
"Don't ask, you'll lose your appetite. Besides, you're using ketchup." The Baron replied.
The deserts came as impressive as the previous ones, and they all ate then as well as the first batch. Time seemed to pass quickly since Harry, Draco, Gregory and Vincent were very much engrossed in their conversation. They came to a halt when Dumbledore got to his feet.
The start-of-term notices were given to the students, including the forbidden forest and the third floor corridor warnings. After all the talking, everyone sang the Hogwarts tune, and before he knew it, Harry found himself walking with the rest of the Slytherin pack, heading to the door of the Great Hall.
"We have the dungeons as our house rooms. Don't worry, it's cozy. You'll love it there." Tringy assured.
As they were walking down the corridor, Harry saw from a distance a bunch of walking sticks floating high in mid-air.
"Wh ----- ", Harry pointed to the duster.
"Oh, " Tringy noticed. "It might be Peeves, the Poltergeist. Don't mind him, as long as the Baron's around, he won't be a trouble." The Baron winked at them.
They marched down the stairs to the basement, passing huge portraits with moving pictures. On their left was a dancing maiden, hopping, which makes her head unseen every time the springs up. On the other side was an old man trying to light a candle. No wonder, it's rather dark in there. But as they turned right upon a corner, a brightly lit broad stone corridor welcomed them.
"Are we there yet?" Blaise asked, looking around.
"Just a bit," Tringy replied. "Prof. Snape asked me to lead you through the long way. Actually, some say there are 8 paths made that lead to the Slytherin common room, but only 3 are commonly used. I haven't got the slightest idea where the other 5 are."
While listening to Tringy, Harry was looking at the portraits of various foods on the stonewalls. Although he was already full, he couldn't help looking at the fresh-looking dishes. There was a roast turkey portrait, a squash-and-celery one, even a silver bowl full of fruits.
They turned right again at the next corner, following a dim passageway. After a minute, Harry found himself standing in front of a bare, damp stonewall with the rest of the group.
"In case you don't know the password, just ask me," Tringy said. "Triggerspike!", he continued, facing the wall.
At that instance, the wall rumbled mildly, and slowly parted, revealing a door. The first years came first.
"This," Tringy said proudly, "is the Slytherin common room."
Harry marveled at the unusual cool temperature inside, even though greenish lamps were burning here and there. The only warm place was in front of the fireplace.
The rectangular common room was quite spacious. Harry sat down on the mossy-green sofa facing the fire. A third year girl named Claria Coalback sat beside him (I can't believe you're really here!). At about 11:45, only four students remained in the common room, and Harry was heading down the passageway to their dorm.
He has Draco, Vincent, Gregory and Blaise as his dorm mates. He entered the room.
"Is not!"
"Is to!"
Gregory and Vincent were shouting at each other. Harry came in, puzzled.
"Arguing over the meal a while ago, Crabbe said the chicken was roasted in butter, Goyle said t'was soy sauce," Draco said, sort of sleepy yet irritated.
"Can't you even distinguish the difference between salty and creamy?" Goyle bellowed.
"Can't you just accept the fact that it's roasted, period?" Blaise interrupted. Harry heard him say "how shallow" under his nose.
Harry lied down in his four-poster, looking at the silver-and-green draping above him. He stared dreamily on the snake design above him. I'm in Slytherin. He thought. I'm a snake…
"Butter!" Vincent said it again.
"Soy sauce!" Gregory replied in anger.
"Shut up, ok!" Draco shouted. "Sheesh, I can't believe I'm having them as my friends," he said to himself while turning his lamp off.
"SILENCE!" Harry had enough.
Everyone looked at Harry's bed through the dark. A rush of deafening silence filled the room, after it echoed Harry's words.
Better, Harry thought.
"It's butter," Vincent whispered.
"Soy – sauce," Gregory replied in a low tone.
Harry realized his remark had no effect. He covered himself with his blanket, hoping to sleep well. One day down, the rest of the year to go…
