Author's Note: FINALLY! I'm surprised I haven't gotten any flames yet...
^_^() Well, here it is. I'm on Spring Break, and figured that I couldn't
make any excuses when I had a whole week off. Forgive me if it's not up to
my usual standard - I need to get the feel of the story back again, and
some inspiration... *sighs dramatically* Ah, well. I'll shut up and let you
read, shall I? ^_^ Enjoy (hopefully)!!!
Kyuu: I KNOW I was supposed to send it to you to Beta... and I still will! Check your inbox. But I HAD to get it up. So... correct it or whatever and I'll repost it here, ne? ^_~
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As they walked along the stone corridor towards the Transfiguration classroom, Harry and Draco's conversation turned once again to the upcoming Quidditch season.
"Draco, it's your position, you're the seeker, I can't ta-" Harry was protesting.
"Shut up, Harry," Draco interrupted. "Don't expect me to say this again. You're better at Quidditch than me." He sniffed. "I'm quite good, but, like Marcus said, you're a natural Seeker. Besides, I've practiced all the positions - you're probably worse than Longbottom at being Keeper." He smirked, and Harry laughed.
"What'll you be, then?" he asked, changing the focus away from himself.
Draco shrugged. "Marcus'll probably kick off the worst player and I'll take their place. It's up to him... but Beater would be excellent," his eyes gleamed.
Harry laughed nervously, "As long as I'm on your team I'll be safe, right?" He shuddered at the thought of being the target of Draco Malfoy with a heavy club. The blonde smirked.
Their conversation came to a halt as they filed into McGonagall's class. As hardly anyone else was there, Harry and Draco had their pick of seats. To Harry's surprise, his friend - it still felt odd to say that; he wondered when he'd get over it - chose two in the front row immediately in front of the professor's desk.
"Potter, what are you -" she began as she looked up, frowning, from a parchment on her desk. She stopped short. "Ah... Of course, you're in Slytherin now. My apologies." Stiffly she returned to her reading. Harry looked at his desk, sighing quietly. It was the first time he'd had a chance to see her face-to-face since his resorting. His ex-Head of House would surely be upset with him. Not only had her rival, Professor Snape, gained the famous Boy-Who-Lived for his House, the Slytherin Quidditch team was now almost certain to kick Gryffindor arse. He sighed again and slid lower into his seat. Draco 's foot nudged his ankle and he flashed Harry a look of understanding. Harry almost smiled. It was such a sudden reversal, to have Draco Malfoy on his side. He wondered, not for the first time, what would have happened if he'd been sorted into Slytherin at the very beginning.
"Hello, Draco, Harry," a quiet voice came from the other side of the blonde, interrupting his thoughts. Blaise had slipped in unnoticed and claimed the third seat in the front row, his Transfiguration book neatly centered on the desk in front of him.
"Hullo, Blaise," Harry answered.
"Mm," was all that came from Draco, who was apparently too absorbed in something he was writing on the parchment in front of him to answer.
The ex-Gryffindor looked around. Other Slytherins had begun to fill the room. Crabbe and Goyle had taken up their obligatory positions behind Draco - and, consequentially, Harry. Pansy, who had just entered, pouted at the seating arrangements and flounced to the seat behind Blaise, as close to her crush as she could get. Harry hid a grin and glanced at Draco, whose face had just barely twisted into what Harry recognized as a grimace.
Suddenly, he realized that, after two years of glaring at each other across every class they shared - and meals in the Great Hall - he had become skilled at reading the other's guarded expressions. He scrutinized the other's face more closely. Draco's eyes were squinted the tiniest bit, showing that he was thinking hard about what he was writing. His lips parted slightly, showing his focus and obliviousness to the world around him. Harry let his gaze sweep down to the other's hand. Pale, slender fingers held the quill near the base tightly. This surprised Harry. Whatever the young Malfoy was writing, it was personal. Otherwise he would be flourishing his quill and writing in long, flowing script so that others could admire him. Harry chuckled to himself. Admire him, yes, he heard himself think. Even now Pansy's watching him, the voice said, but he doesn't care. He ignores all the girls, really, it whispered, surprising Harry. It was true. Draco strove to be admired, but he was like an art piece on display. 'Look, please do not touch,' the sign said. Well, his mouth tugged into an amused smile, maybe not 'please.'
Then, brought out of his own world, Harry sat up straighter in his chair as McGonagall stood, her stern gaze following the last stragglers as they found their seats. She had seemed formidable to him as a Gryffindor, but he'd never gotten the chance to see her teach a class of Slytherins. Her lips had thinned even more than usual, and she stood so stiffly that he thought that maybe someone had cast a body-binding spell on her.
When the students were still, she began. "Welcome, Slytherins." She looked down her nose around the class and sniffed, sounding anything but welcoming. "Today, class, we will begin studying Animagi. First of all, can anyone tell us what an Animagus is?" Beside Harry, Draco raised his hand lazily. Harry glanced over his shoulder. None of the others knew, apparently.
"Mr. Malfoy?" Professor McGonagall spoke crisply.
Draco leaned back in his seat and regarded her with half-closed eyes. "It's a witch or wizard who has learned to change him or herself into the form of a specific animal at will," he drawled. "...Professor," he added as an afterthought.
The witch's lips thinned further as she looked at the third-year with barely concealed dislike. "That would be correct, Mr. Malfoy." Suddenly, before their eyes, she disappeared. A moment later, a tabby cat with spectacle markings around its eyes jumped up onto the desk and sat. It, too, sat so stiffly that there was no mistaking who this was.
After a moment of stunned silence, the class broke into applause; Gryffindor Head of House or not, that had been- 'bloody brilliant!' Harry could suddenly hear Ron's voice saying. He shook his head to clear the unwanted thought of said Gryffindor and joined in the clapping. Only Draco sat, unmoved. Instead, the blonde was carefully continuing to write on the parchment in front of him. In green ink, Harry noticed, though he couldn't read what it said - the other's arm was casually blocking it from view. Mentally shrugging, he turned his attention back to the front of the class just in time to see the feline-McGonagall jump off the desk as she changed forms, coming to stand in front of their desks. Scattered applause was hurriedly shushed as students saw the expression on her face.
"Mister Malfoy," she snapped. "Would you mind telling me what is so important that you must be writing it in the middle of my class?" She held out her hand for the parchment.
Draco blinked, looked up slowly, and leaned back, calmly handing her the piece of parchment, which she took with a suspicious glance. She read it in silence and, to everyone's surprise, handed it back grudgingly. Draco smiled serenely up at her. Harry muffled a snort, earning himself a sharp glance from the professor.
Without a word, Professor McGonagall turned and retreated behind her desk. She seated herself and glanced at the class. "If you would please turn to page twenty-seven in your texts, you will find the chapter on Animagi. Read it, and write a paragraph summary, adding your own speculation at the end on what the uses of being able to change shape might be." With that, she went back to her reading.
There was the rustle of bookbags being opened and books being set rather heavily on desks, and a quiet murmur as students whispered to their deskmates. As Harry and Draco took out their books, the former leaned over to glance at the other's desk.
"What was on it?" he asked, curious.
Draco looked up. "Oh, this? Here," he tossed the parchment carelessly in front of Harry.
" An Animagus is a witch or wizard who has learned to change him or herself into the form of a specific animal at will. Minerva McGonagall is a registered Animagus - tabby cat with spectacle markings around the eyes. Very beautiful coat, orange and brown with white underside; elegant posture," he read aloud, trying not to laugh. "You knew she was going to read it, then?"
Draco arched an eyebrow. "I was being sincere," he sniffed.
Harry saw the glimmer in the other's gaze that he knew to be silent laughter and rolled his eyes. "Sure you were." He moved to hand the parchment back, but his hand stopped in midair. The notes were written in blue ink. He ran his finger lightly across the last word. It was dry. Slowly he handed it back.
Draco gave him a level look. "...yes?"
Harry shook his head, "Nothing." He gave his deskmate a questioning glance.
The blonde understood. Light pink lips twitched, and Draco Malfoy winked at him, moving his left hand from under the desk, revealing the parchment with emerald lettering on it in his grasp. With a quick glance up at McGonagall, he slipped it into his bookbag between his Arithmancy book and some spare parchment, careful not to smear the wet ink. Swiftly he exchanged his green quill for a blue one, and lay it on the desk beside him.
Harry grinned, sharing the joke, but was somewhat bewildered. How had Draco exchanged the parchments without anyone noticing? And how had he already had notes prepared to show McGonagall?
The blonde spoke, then, interrupting Harry's thoughts. "Well, Potter, what are you waiting for? Get to work - we don't want you to lose any points, now, do we?" he drawled just loud enough for McGonagall to hear. Harry looked quickly towards the professor, who was watching him with raised eyebrows. He flushed and quickly opened his book to page twenty-seven.
He was seeing a pattern in Draco's behavior. Whenever non-Slytherins were involved, he was the snotty Malfoy that everyone knew and lov... well, that everyone knew, he amended to himself with a grin. But with his own Housemates, Draco was a fun, strong leader. And, Harry knew, a great friend. It suddenly struck him how similar Ron was. To Gryffindors, he was a wonderful person and another one of those fun Weasleys. But he was always mean to Slytherins. Had he been like that, Harry wondered?
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After Transfiguration, Harry parted ways with Draco and Blaise, heading up to the very top of the North Tower. As he made his way through the halls, he realized that people were looking at him. Carefully keeping his gaze on the stones in front of his feet, he guessed that people had been staring at him all day, only he hadn't noticed while he was talking to his new Housemates.
Trying to ignore the attention, he chose to study his surroundings. There always seemed to be new decorations in Hogwarts. The paintings nodded to him as he passed, but they, too, looked at him strangely. The Fat Lady had told some of her friends, he supposed. Suddenly, though, he was face to face with a ghost. He fell backwards with a yell and landed hard on his back.
"So sorry, dear fellow, I didn't see you," Sir Nicholas apologized, automatically offering him a hand up. Harry reached for it and fell painfully back again as his hand passed through the ghost's. Not noticing, the Gryffindor ghost continued. "I was just talking to the Friar - that's why I wasn't watching where I was floating, you see - and he told me the strangest news. There's been a re-sorting, and young Har-" he stopped, realizing who it was he was speaking to. "Well," he said, somewhat embarrassed, "of course you know. Harry Potter in Slytherin! Imagine. Why ever did you change Houses, Harry?" he asked, puzzled and somewhat put out.
Harry sighed and scrambled to his feet. "The Sorting Hat wanted me in Slytherin, and it kept giving me a hard time. I really don't have time to talk, though, Nick. Where's the North Tower? I'm probably going to be late for Divination," he changed the topic hastily.
"The Sorting Hat wanted to put you in Slytherin?" the ghost repeated, surprised. "Well, I suppose it knows best, then, but a nice boy like you?" he shook his head, making it flop sickeningly as he did. "I don't understand it. Oh well. Perhaps you'll still talk to me, though?" the ghost asked hopefully. "And maybe come to my Death-day party again..."
"Yes, of course!" he said exasperatedly. "But can you help me first?"
"Right, sorry," the ghost apologized. "Really, I'm so easily distracted. That's why I ran into you, of course. Are you alright? Yes, well... just keep going straight, Harry, take a left - it IS the first day of school? Yes, I think that corridor will be there - and the first staircase you come to will lead you straight to the North Tower. Cheerio!" And with that the Gryffindor ghost drifted down through the landing.
Harry sighed and shook his head, continuing more quickly down the hall. As he continued on his way, he was greeted with a few nods and even a wave from one of the Slytherin first years - her name was Rebecca, he remembered as he smiled back at her.
He kept his face expressionless, though, as a wake of whispers spread out behind him as he passed through a group of Ravenclaw third years. He didn't look to see if he knew any of them.
Finally, though, he had to look up as he came to the end of the corridor that Sir Nicholas had directed him to. The only problem was that it split into two staircases at the end. He had three minutes left to get to the classroom, but he had no idea which way to go from here.
All at once, though, he heard familiar voices coming from the stairway on the left.
"-going to die!" came Ron's hiss.
"Don't be silly, Ron. Divination seems like a lot of guesswork to me, and-" Hermione's matter-of-fact voice was answering.
"But what about Neville's cup? You saw it, I know you did!" Harry thought Ron sounded near hysterics as he interrupted Hermione. What had happened in Divination? he wondered with some concern.
"Ron, just-" Hermione stopped abruptly as she came to the bottom of the stairs and saw Harry standing there. This was a mistake; Ron was following behind her too quickly and ran into the back of her. Harry leapt forward, but was too late. He winced as the two Gryffindors crashed onto the floor.
After a momentary silence, he bent and began to gather Hermione's spilled books as Ron scrambled to get off of her, reddening. Harry glanced up. Ron was muttering an apology, and Hermione seemed to be tucking something hurriedly down the front of her robes, a brief look of relief crossing her face. He picked up the heaviest book - Arithmancy, he saw - and set it on top of her other three and slid it towards her, then reached for the scattered quills.
"Thanks, Harry, I -" she stopped, biting her lip. "Thanks."
"No problem," he said easily, holding her quills out. After she had taken them, he leaned back on his heels and looked up at his former Housemates. "Er-" he began, but Ron cut him off.
"Come on, Hermione. We need to hurry or we'll be late for McGonagall's class."
"Yes, Ron, I know. Harry, where are you-" she began to ask.
"Hermione! Don't talk to Slytherins. Come on." He picked up her bag and began to walk away. He stopped and turned at the bottom of the stairs that Harry had just come up, tapping his foot impatiently, careful not to look at Harry.
Harry's insides had gone as cold as Ron's tone. His earlier thoughts echoed in his mind: To Gryffindors, he was a wonderful person and another one of those fun Weasleys. But he was always mean to Slytherins. So, now Harry was just another Slytherin. It hurt. It hurt a lot, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the look of horror on Ron's face when the resorting was done, the glare across the Great Hall, the sound of contempt and anger in his voice as he cut Hermione off. Hermione. His eyes flew open. She was still on the floor, gathering the last of her parchments.
Harry stood and offered her a hand which, after almost imperceptible hesitation, she took. He pulled her up and let go of her hand.
"Thanks," she repeated. He shrugged. "...look, Harry, I-"
"Hermione!" Ron snapped, "we've got two minutes."
"I don't want to be late, Harry, but I wanted to say I'm not mad," she rushed, backing towards the steps. "I mean, it's a shock and all, but... we can still be friends, right?" She looked at him, for once unsure of herself.
A wave of warmth rushed back through Harry. "Yeah. We can still be friends," he smiled at her gratefully.
She smiled, too. "Good." She turned and began to descend the stairs.
Harry called after her, "Hermione?" She turned quickly. "This is the way up to the Divination classroom?" he asked, indicating the left stairwell.
A frown crossed her face. "Yes, it is. But the whole thing is very woolly, if you ask me."
"Why, what'd the professor say?" he called, moving towards the staircase.
Her tone was scornful. "She said she saw a death omen in some soggy leaves," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry, I'm going to be late..."
His eyes widened. "What? For whom?" he asked, memories of Mr. Weasley's warning rushing back to him all at once.
Hermione hesitated and her eyes flickered toward the only other person in sight, "...Ron." She turned and ran down the steps, one minute left before they all had to be in their next class. Harry, however, was frozen to the spot.
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Author's Note: Yay! Another chapter finished... I'm not that happy with it, but it's better than nothing, right? The next'll be better, I hope... ^_^ I had just assumed that Trelawney would See the Omen (*snort*) in her second class period, but... doesn't this make it more interesting?? *grins* Right, so... I'll try to write more. I'm home from school today because I sprained my ankle ice-skating over the weekend... So I sat down and wrote! Besides, now I actually have some cool new stuff to work with instead of just paraphrasing JK's excellent work! ^_^() Funtimes. Sooooooooooo... what to look forward to in the next chapter? Harry's first Divination lesson and the Gryffindor/Slytherin Care of Magical Creatures class! And more Draco, I promise. He hardly had any part in this! *sigh* But he'll be in the next one more, I promise! ^_~ See ya there!
P.S. Microsoft Word automatically changes three periods to an elipse "." which is automatically changed by FF.net to a regular period. So... if you see something like that, you know what it is, alright? I'm testing something in this chapter and using FIVE periods. Hopefully this'll solve the problem... If not, bear with me, okay? ^_^()
Kyuu: I KNOW I was supposed to send it to you to Beta... and I still will! Check your inbox. But I HAD to get it up. So... correct it or whatever and I'll repost it here, ne? ^_~
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As they walked along the stone corridor towards the Transfiguration classroom, Harry and Draco's conversation turned once again to the upcoming Quidditch season.
"Draco, it's your position, you're the seeker, I can't ta-" Harry was protesting.
"Shut up, Harry," Draco interrupted. "Don't expect me to say this again. You're better at Quidditch than me." He sniffed. "I'm quite good, but, like Marcus said, you're a natural Seeker. Besides, I've practiced all the positions - you're probably worse than Longbottom at being Keeper." He smirked, and Harry laughed.
"What'll you be, then?" he asked, changing the focus away from himself.
Draco shrugged. "Marcus'll probably kick off the worst player and I'll take their place. It's up to him... but Beater would be excellent," his eyes gleamed.
Harry laughed nervously, "As long as I'm on your team I'll be safe, right?" He shuddered at the thought of being the target of Draco Malfoy with a heavy club. The blonde smirked.
Their conversation came to a halt as they filed into McGonagall's class. As hardly anyone else was there, Harry and Draco had their pick of seats. To Harry's surprise, his friend - it still felt odd to say that; he wondered when he'd get over it - chose two in the front row immediately in front of the professor's desk.
"Potter, what are you -" she began as she looked up, frowning, from a parchment on her desk. She stopped short. "Ah... Of course, you're in Slytherin now. My apologies." Stiffly she returned to her reading. Harry looked at his desk, sighing quietly. It was the first time he'd had a chance to see her face-to-face since his resorting. His ex-Head of House would surely be upset with him. Not only had her rival, Professor Snape, gained the famous Boy-Who-Lived for his House, the Slytherin Quidditch team was now almost certain to kick Gryffindor arse. He sighed again and slid lower into his seat. Draco 's foot nudged his ankle and he flashed Harry a look of understanding. Harry almost smiled. It was such a sudden reversal, to have Draco Malfoy on his side. He wondered, not for the first time, what would have happened if he'd been sorted into Slytherin at the very beginning.
"Hello, Draco, Harry," a quiet voice came from the other side of the blonde, interrupting his thoughts. Blaise had slipped in unnoticed and claimed the third seat in the front row, his Transfiguration book neatly centered on the desk in front of him.
"Hullo, Blaise," Harry answered.
"Mm," was all that came from Draco, who was apparently too absorbed in something he was writing on the parchment in front of him to answer.
The ex-Gryffindor looked around. Other Slytherins had begun to fill the room. Crabbe and Goyle had taken up their obligatory positions behind Draco - and, consequentially, Harry. Pansy, who had just entered, pouted at the seating arrangements and flounced to the seat behind Blaise, as close to her crush as she could get. Harry hid a grin and glanced at Draco, whose face had just barely twisted into what Harry recognized as a grimace.
Suddenly, he realized that, after two years of glaring at each other across every class they shared - and meals in the Great Hall - he had become skilled at reading the other's guarded expressions. He scrutinized the other's face more closely. Draco's eyes were squinted the tiniest bit, showing that he was thinking hard about what he was writing. His lips parted slightly, showing his focus and obliviousness to the world around him. Harry let his gaze sweep down to the other's hand. Pale, slender fingers held the quill near the base tightly. This surprised Harry. Whatever the young Malfoy was writing, it was personal. Otherwise he would be flourishing his quill and writing in long, flowing script so that others could admire him. Harry chuckled to himself. Admire him, yes, he heard himself think. Even now Pansy's watching him, the voice said, but he doesn't care. He ignores all the girls, really, it whispered, surprising Harry. It was true. Draco strove to be admired, but he was like an art piece on display. 'Look, please do not touch,' the sign said. Well, his mouth tugged into an amused smile, maybe not 'please.'
Then, brought out of his own world, Harry sat up straighter in his chair as McGonagall stood, her stern gaze following the last stragglers as they found their seats. She had seemed formidable to him as a Gryffindor, but he'd never gotten the chance to see her teach a class of Slytherins. Her lips had thinned even more than usual, and she stood so stiffly that he thought that maybe someone had cast a body-binding spell on her.
When the students were still, she began. "Welcome, Slytherins." She looked down her nose around the class and sniffed, sounding anything but welcoming. "Today, class, we will begin studying Animagi. First of all, can anyone tell us what an Animagus is?" Beside Harry, Draco raised his hand lazily. Harry glanced over his shoulder. None of the others knew, apparently.
"Mr. Malfoy?" Professor McGonagall spoke crisply.
Draco leaned back in his seat and regarded her with half-closed eyes. "It's a witch or wizard who has learned to change him or herself into the form of a specific animal at will," he drawled. "...Professor," he added as an afterthought.
The witch's lips thinned further as she looked at the third-year with barely concealed dislike. "That would be correct, Mr. Malfoy." Suddenly, before their eyes, she disappeared. A moment later, a tabby cat with spectacle markings around its eyes jumped up onto the desk and sat. It, too, sat so stiffly that there was no mistaking who this was.
After a moment of stunned silence, the class broke into applause; Gryffindor Head of House or not, that had been- 'bloody brilliant!' Harry could suddenly hear Ron's voice saying. He shook his head to clear the unwanted thought of said Gryffindor and joined in the clapping. Only Draco sat, unmoved. Instead, the blonde was carefully continuing to write on the parchment in front of him. In green ink, Harry noticed, though he couldn't read what it said - the other's arm was casually blocking it from view. Mentally shrugging, he turned his attention back to the front of the class just in time to see the feline-McGonagall jump off the desk as she changed forms, coming to stand in front of their desks. Scattered applause was hurriedly shushed as students saw the expression on her face.
"Mister Malfoy," she snapped. "Would you mind telling me what is so important that you must be writing it in the middle of my class?" She held out her hand for the parchment.
Draco blinked, looked up slowly, and leaned back, calmly handing her the piece of parchment, which she took with a suspicious glance. She read it in silence and, to everyone's surprise, handed it back grudgingly. Draco smiled serenely up at her. Harry muffled a snort, earning himself a sharp glance from the professor.
Without a word, Professor McGonagall turned and retreated behind her desk. She seated herself and glanced at the class. "If you would please turn to page twenty-seven in your texts, you will find the chapter on Animagi. Read it, and write a paragraph summary, adding your own speculation at the end on what the uses of being able to change shape might be." With that, she went back to her reading.
There was the rustle of bookbags being opened and books being set rather heavily on desks, and a quiet murmur as students whispered to their deskmates. As Harry and Draco took out their books, the former leaned over to glance at the other's desk.
"What was on it?" he asked, curious.
Draco looked up. "Oh, this? Here," he tossed the parchment carelessly in front of Harry.
" An Animagus is a witch or wizard who has learned to change him or herself into the form of a specific animal at will. Minerva McGonagall is a registered Animagus - tabby cat with spectacle markings around the eyes. Very beautiful coat, orange and brown with white underside; elegant posture," he read aloud, trying not to laugh. "You knew she was going to read it, then?"
Draco arched an eyebrow. "I was being sincere," he sniffed.
Harry saw the glimmer in the other's gaze that he knew to be silent laughter and rolled his eyes. "Sure you were." He moved to hand the parchment back, but his hand stopped in midair. The notes were written in blue ink. He ran his finger lightly across the last word. It was dry. Slowly he handed it back.
Draco gave him a level look. "...yes?"
Harry shook his head, "Nothing." He gave his deskmate a questioning glance.
The blonde understood. Light pink lips twitched, and Draco Malfoy winked at him, moving his left hand from under the desk, revealing the parchment with emerald lettering on it in his grasp. With a quick glance up at McGonagall, he slipped it into his bookbag between his Arithmancy book and some spare parchment, careful not to smear the wet ink. Swiftly he exchanged his green quill for a blue one, and lay it on the desk beside him.
Harry grinned, sharing the joke, but was somewhat bewildered. How had Draco exchanged the parchments without anyone noticing? And how had he already had notes prepared to show McGonagall?
The blonde spoke, then, interrupting Harry's thoughts. "Well, Potter, what are you waiting for? Get to work - we don't want you to lose any points, now, do we?" he drawled just loud enough for McGonagall to hear. Harry looked quickly towards the professor, who was watching him with raised eyebrows. He flushed and quickly opened his book to page twenty-seven.
He was seeing a pattern in Draco's behavior. Whenever non-Slytherins were involved, he was the snotty Malfoy that everyone knew and lov... well, that everyone knew, he amended to himself with a grin. But with his own Housemates, Draco was a fun, strong leader. And, Harry knew, a great friend. It suddenly struck him how similar Ron was. To Gryffindors, he was a wonderful person and another one of those fun Weasleys. But he was always mean to Slytherins. Had he been like that, Harry wondered?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After Transfiguration, Harry parted ways with Draco and Blaise, heading up to the very top of the North Tower. As he made his way through the halls, he realized that people were looking at him. Carefully keeping his gaze on the stones in front of his feet, he guessed that people had been staring at him all day, only he hadn't noticed while he was talking to his new Housemates.
Trying to ignore the attention, he chose to study his surroundings. There always seemed to be new decorations in Hogwarts. The paintings nodded to him as he passed, but they, too, looked at him strangely. The Fat Lady had told some of her friends, he supposed. Suddenly, though, he was face to face with a ghost. He fell backwards with a yell and landed hard on his back.
"So sorry, dear fellow, I didn't see you," Sir Nicholas apologized, automatically offering him a hand up. Harry reached for it and fell painfully back again as his hand passed through the ghost's. Not noticing, the Gryffindor ghost continued. "I was just talking to the Friar - that's why I wasn't watching where I was floating, you see - and he told me the strangest news. There's been a re-sorting, and young Har-" he stopped, realizing who it was he was speaking to. "Well," he said, somewhat embarrassed, "of course you know. Harry Potter in Slytherin! Imagine. Why ever did you change Houses, Harry?" he asked, puzzled and somewhat put out.
Harry sighed and scrambled to his feet. "The Sorting Hat wanted me in Slytherin, and it kept giving me a hard time. I really don't have time to talk, though, Nick. Where's the North Tower? I'm probably going to be late for Divination," he changed the topic hastily.
"The Sorting Hat wanted to put you in Slytherin?" the ghost repeated, surprised. "Well, I suppose it knows best, then, but a nice boy like you?" he shook his head, making it flop sickeningly as he did. "I don't understand it. Oh well. Perhaps you'll still talk to me, though?" the ghost asked hopefully. "And maybe come to my Death-day party again..."
"Yes, of course!" he said exasperatedly. "But can you help me first?"
"Right, sorry," the ghost apologized. "Really, I'm so easily distracted. That's why I ran into you, of course. Are you alright? Yes, well... just keep going straight, Harry, take a left - it IS the first day of school? Yes, I think that corridor will be there - and the first staircase you come to will lead you straight to the North Tower. Cheerio!" And with that the Gryffindor ghost drifted down through the landing.
Harry sighed and shook his head, continuing more quickly down the hall. As he continued on his way, he was greeted with a few nods and even a wave from one of the Slytherin first years - her name was Rebecca, he remembered as he smiled back at her.
He kept his face expressionless, though, as a wake of whispers spread out behind him as he passed through a group of Ravenclaw third years. He didn't look to see if he knew any of them.
Finally, though, he had to look up as he came to the end of the corridor that Sir Nicholas had directed him to. The only problem was that it split into two staircases at the end. He had three minutes left to get to the classroom, but he had no idea which way to go from here.
All at once, though, he heard familiar voices coming from the stairway on the left.
"-going to die!" came Ron's hiss.
"Don't be silly, Ron. Divination seems like a lot of guesswork to me, and-" Hermione's matter-of-fact voice was answering.
"But what about Neville's cup? You saw it, I know you did!" Harry thought Ron sounded near hysterics as he interrupted Hermione. What had happened in Divination? he wondered with some concern.
"Ron, just-" Hermione stopped abruptly as she came to the bottom of the stairs and saw Harry standing there. This was a mistake; Ron was following behind her too quickly and ran into the back of her. Harry leapt forward, but was too late. He winced as the two Gryffindors crashed onto the floor.
After a momentary silence, he bent and began to gather Hermione's spilled books as Ron scrambled to get off of her, reddening. Harry glanced up. Ron was muttering an apology, and Hermione seemed to be tucking something hurriedly down the front of her robes, a brief look of relief crossing her face. He picked up the heaviest book - Arithmancy, he saw - and set it on top of her other three and slid it towards her, then reached for the scattered quills.
"Thanks, Harry, I -" she stopped, biting her lip. "Thanks."
"No problem," he said easily, holding her quills out. After she had taken them, he leaned back on his heels and looked up at his former Housemates. "Er-" he began, but Ron cut him off.
"Come on, Hermione. We need to hurry or we'll be late for McGonagall's class."
"Yes, Ron, I know. Harry, where are you-" she began to ask.
"Hermione! Don't talk to Slytherins. Come on." He picked up her bag and began to walk away. He stopped and turned at the bottom of the stairs that Harry had just come up, tapping his foot impatiently, careful not to look at Harry.
Harry's insides had gone as cold as Ron's tone. His earlier thoughts echoed in his mind: To Gryffindors, he was a wonderful person and another one of those fun Weasleys. But he was always mean to Slytherins. So, now Harry was just another Slytherin. It hurt. It hurt a lot, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the look of horror on Ron's face when the resorting was done, the glare across the Great Hall, the sound of contempt and anger in his voice as he cut Hermione off. Hermione. His eyes flew open. She was still on the floor, gathering the last of her parchments.
Harry stood and offered her a hand which, after almost imperceptible hesitation, she took. He pulled her up and let go of her hand.
"Thanks," she repeated. He shrugged. "...look, Harry, I-"
"Hermione!" Ron snapped, "we've got two minutes."
"I don't want to be late, Harry, but I wanted to say I'm not mad," she rushed, backing towards the steps. "I mean, it's a shock and all, but... we can still be friends, right?" She looked at him, for once unsure of herself.
A wave of warmth rushed back through Harry. "Yeah. We can still be friends," he smiled at her gratefully.
She smiled, too. "Good." She turned and began to descend the stairs.
Harry called after her, "Hermione?" She turned quickly. "This is the way up to the Divination classroom?" he asked, indicating the left stairwell.
A frown crossed her face. "Yes, it is. But the whole thing is very woolly, if you ask me."
"Why, what'd the professor say?" he called, moving towards the staircase.
Her tone was scornful. "She said she saw a death omen in some soggy leaves," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry, I'm going to be late..."
His eyes widened. "What? For whom?" he asked, memories of Mr. Weasley's warning rushing back to him all at once.
Hermione hesitated and her eyes flickered toward the only other person in sight, "...Ron." She turned and ran down the steps, one minute left before they all had to be in their next class. Harry, however, was frozen to the spot.
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Author's Note: Yay! Another chapter finished... I'm not that happy with it, but it's better than nothing, right? The next'll be better, I hope... ^_^ I had just assumed that Trelawney would See the Omen (*snort*) in her second class period, but... doesn't this make it more interesting?? *grins* Right, so... I'll try to write more. I'm home from school today because I sprained my ankle ice-skating over the weekend... So I sat down and wrote! Besides, now I actually have some cool new stuff to work with instead of just paraphrasing JK's excellent work! ^_^() Funtimes. Sooooooooooo... what to look forward to in the next chapter? Harry's first Divination lesson and the Gryffindor/Slytherin Care of Magical Creatures class! And more Draco, I promise. He hardly had any part in this! *sigh* But he'll be in the next one more, I promise! ^_~ See ya there!
P.S. Microsoft Word automatically changes three periods to an elipse "." which is automatically changed by FF.net to a regular period. So... if you see something like that, you know what it is, alright? I'm testing something in this chapter and using FIVE periods. Hopefully this'll solve the problem... If not, bear with me, okay? ^_^()