See the end for Author's Notes.

Chapter Three

By Wednesday it had become a habit for Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle to walk with Harry behind Prefect Dodderidge. "Now Flitwick isn't all rainbows and smiles. He'll be nice enough to you lot with you being first years and all, but don't expect him to be lax on charm safety. You won't cast your first spell for a month at least." She continued to prattle on as she herded them up the stairs and into the main hall.

Harry was pleased to see that the Gryffindors split up from them and headed towards the Great Hall. This meant that they might have charms with the Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs. (He was hoping the latter so he didn't feel too stupid for not having read the Charms textbook at all.)

"I heard that he is a dueling master. He was world champion for three years before he retired," Draco said in his I'm-somebody-important-voice. "My father had seen several of his duels live during his last tournament. He said it was spectacular."

Harry frowned. He remembered the diminutive man that Hagrid had been sitting next to at the welcome feast. He might be new to this world but Professor Flitwick didn't look like much of a dueller. Then again, the Headmaster didn't seem like he could have led a rebel force against his father ten years ago. Appearances might be extremely misleading in the Wizarding World.

Professor Flitwick's class was lecture based. For the first lesson they went over the different classifications of charms. (Harry had the impression that there was a significant amount of overlap. He didn't point this out, of course. Two Ravenclaws had almost came to blows arguing the classification or orchidea. Harry had no idea why it mattered one way or the other. Orchids were lovely all the same.)

The examples given of each new classification with quite a bit strange or unusual ones. They shared this lesson with the Ravenclaws which Harry found more enjoyable than he had expected. He learned how many strange and unusual charms there were in this way. He was once again pleased with this new world he had stumbled into and grateful to his father. Magic appeared limitless in its possibilities and application. It was amazing! (The Ravenclaws less so. There were three arguments that devolved into the usages of hexes before class ended. And all three of them were between the Eagle house and their own members.)

"That's just how that house is," Crabbe assured him after they were released.

"Those eagles are a hodgepodge of curios, intellectuals, and literalists. Half of the house don't bother with school work sometimes. They're often coming up with some new thing or other to discuss in their gatherings."

It was strange that the house known for intelligence was mostly know for their curiosity. Harry wondered if the Sorting Hat had spoken out of turn when describing Ravenclaw? And if so, did that mean it might have stereotyped the other houses as well? What about his own?

"Well I think that they're ridiculous," Malfoy sneered as he strutted in front of them. "Can you imagine sorting into a house that spends all its time working against themselves?"

"It actually sounds like a bit of fun," Harry disagreed, not liking Malfoy's tone very much. (Not that he liked very much about his classmate to begin with.)

The blond snorted but continued on. He turned to Crabbe and Goyle. "Can you imagine what the world would be like if the Dark Lord hadn't perished? Slytherin house would be on top and we wouldn't have to deal with such hogwash."

Harry's head snapped back to the blond in an instant. This was the first mention of his father he had heard since that conversation with Hagrid months ago. "You know about the Dark Lord?" Harry burst out.

Malfoy's reflexive sneer faltered when he caught sight of Harry's expression. Harry wasn't sure what exactly the other saw there but he paled almost instantly. He maintained his mask rather well considering how out of his depth he looked. "What's it to you, Potter," he accentuated the last name as if that was a deterrent.

Harry rolled his eyes and increased his pace to walk next to Malfoy. "No one will tell me about him and I've been looking whenever I can. Is his name really Voldemort-" everyone flinched but Harry was used to this reaction. He continued on unhindered, "Where was he from? Does he have other family? Is it true that he could speak to snakes too? Do I look..."

Harry trailed off. 'Do I look like him?' he wanted to ask, but Malfoy and Goyle's faces had slackened with shock. Crabbe looked intrigued. "Are you saying, you want to learn about the Dark Lord?" Crabbe asked.

Harry nodded. Finally, someone who would actually listen to him. "Yes. I've been trying for weeks to learn about him, but not even Flourish and Blotts has very much about him. Most of the books about that time talk about me, but none of it's true so I doubt that anything I would find would be of any help."

"Then why ask us?" Malfoy finally snapped.

Harry titled his head. What an odd question. "Your families were followers of his, yes? You know the truth of things."

"The truth of- what truth is that?" Crabbe asked, surprised.

The boy's expression had moved from its normal bored state and Harry was momentarily taken aback. But the mere thought of all the information he could gather about his father had him focusing once more. "What was he like? You must have heard tales of his greatness."

Mind you, Harry didn't think everything the man had done was very great- killing people for having Muggle parents was not very kosher. Muggleborns couldn't help their parentage any more than Harry could. "'Greatness'..." Malfoy drawled. "Have you gone around the bend? You're Harry Potter!"

Harry shrugged. He had already decided that he wanted nothing to do with the Potter name. The man his mother had run to after she left his father had died long ago and Harry had no memories of the man. That wasn't to mean that he had memories of his mother either but that was besides the point.

"Yes, your point?"

Crabbe had gone silent once more, but his bored expression had taken on a more curious one. "My point: you can't go around asking about the Dark Lord!" Malfoy hissed, his eyes darting up and down the corridor.

Davis, Parkinson, and Nott were further down the hall well out of earshot. Zabini had yet to appear from around the corner. In Harry's opinion now was as good a time as any to ask such questions. Besides, it wasn't as if Slytherin house was against his father's reign.

Malfoy grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him into the nearest door. This happened to be an empty classroom covered in several layers of dust and forgotten by time. Harry wondered why they needed such a big castle to begin with if the class sizes were so small? There couldn't be more than fifty people in his entire year.

"Listen Potter, I know you're powerful, but you can't go around sprouting how great you think the Dark Lord was. Maybe you should've thought about that before you killed him!" Malfoy hissed.

Harry frowned. "That was an accident though," he grumbled.

Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy all looked at him in similar states of shock. "What?" Harry asked defensively.

"You 'accidentally' killed the Dark Lord." It was Goyle who gathered his wits first and was the one to ask the question that seemed to be in the mind of the others.

Harry huffed and crossed his arms. "Well of course. Do you think I would try to kill him on purpose?"

What type of son tried to kill their own father? No, it was definitely an accident. "Besides," he continued, "I was a baby. I hardly had enough control of my magic to properly teleport when I was eight. How could I have control a spell that would destroy someone's entire body?"

"Teleport?"

"You apparated at eight years old?" Crabbe asked with a smile on his lips. "That's rather impressive accidental magic actually."

Malfoy put on his 'I'm-a-git' face and lifted his nose. Harry wanted to tell the blond he had something in his nose just once to see what the boy did. "Yes well, it's only to be expected. My father says that Potter is a Dark wizard to rival that of the Dark Lord. Everyone knows that he's going to be powerful."

Everyone did not, in fact, know that. For one, it was news to Harry. And he doesn't even think he was the one to kill his father- it was probably a miscast spell or some such nonsense. He had read that spell backlash from rituals due to poor planning or execution was capable of leveling entire villages. It had to be a similar situation that had blown up his dad.

"Well, if it's the Dark Lord you want to know about, we can ask our fathers for more information. But for Circe's sake don't go around mentioning him in public."

Harry rolled his eyes as he followed the other three boys back to the door. "Of course I know that. Everyone acts like they've been attacked anytime I mention him."

"Mention who?"

Harry jumped. He hadn't seen Zabini leaned against the wall beside the doorway until that very moment. "What are you, spying on us?" Malfoy snapped.

Zabini lifted his hands in a pacifying gesture. "I like information. So I gather all types. It's nothing personal to you three."

Harry narrowed his eyes. He had known that his house was considered an aspiring politicians playground. It was almost a forgone conclusion that Slytherins went into the Ministry in some form. It hadn't occurred to him that the more nefarious habits of the rich and powerful were in play. Rather that the secret mongering and blackmail attempts that one read about in the papers or heard during afternoon socials between housewives. Harry was only concerned with what Zabini planned to do with the information he gathered. It wasn't exactly a secret that his father wasn't dead if even Hagrid knew him to be alive. That didn't mean he wanted his search for the monster to be common knowledge. Before Harry could inquire further Malfoy spoke again. "Mind your own business," he said before strutting down the corridor, ending the conversation.

Goyle immediately followed without a second thought. Crabbe motioned Harry forward so that he wouldn't be left alone with Zabini's quizzical smile. "All that did was make him more curious," Crabbe muttered under his breath.

Harry silently agreed. Malfoy was stupid if he thought that would be the end of it.

As if to prove Harry's point, for the next few days Zabini and Malfoy heckled one another without end. Half of it appeared amiable on the surface, portraying the united front that Professor Snape said was paramount for their house's survival. Harry, however, was becoming proficient in decoding double-speak thanks to his study sessions in the common room. He recognized that the two used hidden barbs to insult one another more often than not.

It was Thursday before Malfoy seemed to have had enough. Zabini sat across from Malfoy beside Goyle during lunch that day. The Italian had taken to placing himself near them to keep up a steady stream of needling statements throughout mealtimes. Malfoy was pink with indignant rage from something or other. Harry had honestly stopped listening after the third day. This changed when Malfoy slammed a hand down on the table, a poignant breach in etiquette for the blond aristocrat. "Don't think just because you've sorted Slytherin means I owe you anything. Your mother marrying yet another pureblood doesn't change her own status. You should remember your place, Zabini," Malfoy hissed.

All voices nearest them ceased at Malfoy's declaration for several seconds. When conversations resumed it was notably at a lower volume. (Probably spreading Malfoy's words further down the table.)

Zabini finally let things drop, but his narrowed gaze told that the slight was not forgotten. Harry wanted to tell Malfoy off- even if his father had information about the Dark Lord the blond was still a right foul git. His tongue was stayed by the memory of Professor Snape's warnings. House unity was more important than house points. The potions master had been clear on what would happen to any students caught quarreling amongst themselves. Malfoy and Zabini were relatively ignored (or as ignored as anyone as attention-seeking as Malfoy could get). Anything and everything Harry did was under a magnifying glass in contrast. He didn't know whether Professor Snape or the Headmaster watched him more intently.

"Malfoy," Crabbe interrupted the staring match between the three heirs. "What is the difference between wolfsbane and aconite?"

The blond rolled his eyes as if put into a great disservice as he turned his attention away from Zabini. "Honestly Crabbe were you even awake during class this week?"

Like a master tactician Crabbe kept Malfoy occupied until lunch ended. They left a few minutes early; Herbology was held out on the grounds and took almost ten minutes to walk to. Harry dragged his feet as everyone made their way outside until he was the last person in their group and several paces behind everyone else.

Everyone except Crabbe who remained by his side. They walked along in silence until the sounds of their classmates was a low susurrus of voices. It was then that Harry spoke. "Why does anyone listen to Malfoy when he's such a git all the time?"

Crabbe shrugged. "His father holds the most active Wizengamot seats of any pureblood Lord. It makes them very powerful. My father holds two and Greg's one. We both lost a seat each to the Malfoy's ten years ago among other things. I reckon my dad would curse Lord Malfoy in a heartbeat if he could get away with it, but Draco's pretty much harmless. He has only a bit of a temper and a mouth to match. Not exactly high on my list of fears at the moment."

"Huh," Harry huffed. "I guess... I don't think I should be friends with anyone who acts like Dudley."

"But you're not."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I know that, but I wouldn't be friends with you either if you acted that way."

"But we're not friends. We're classmates."

Harry frowned. "Of course we're friends. We eat all our meals together, sit with each other in all our classes, study together in the common room, and walk to our classes together."

Crabbe chuckled and shook his head. "What?" Harry protested.

"It's just nice to know someone so innocent. I forget sometimes you're not really one of us."

Harry flinched and came to a stop in the corridor. "What's that supposed to mean?" (Did Crabbe know he was part-monster? Did he suspect?)

When Crabbe turned back around he didn't look apologetic in the slightest. "Haven't you looked into the genealogies of the other Slytherins yet?"

"Why would I?"

Crabbe laughed again. Harry bit his lip to keep from snarling at the boy as his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "Potter there are only seven half-bloods in Slytherin house and two of them are first years."

"So?" Harry crossed his arms. "Your point?"

"We don't even have four hundred total students in our house. The next next smallest is almost two-hundred students more in population."

"I still don't see your po-"

"Do you know what the war was about? The one with the Dark Lord?"

Harry scoffed. Crabbe was making no sense and asking stupid questions to boot. He had read seven books in this last month alone trying to learn more about his father. "Of course I do."

"Really? Because by the end of it, everyone assumed it was about exterminating Muggles and Muggleborns. About bringing Half-bloods and magical creatures into eternal servitude to the Purebloods."

This made Harry hesitate. He hadn't known about the magical creatures part- he had thought werewolves had fought on the side of his father during the war- but the rest was pretty much the consensus from all the texts he had access to. Had Harry been reading from unreliable sources?

"I don't understand," he finally admitted.

Crabbe nodded as if this was the only right answer. "I know. We all do. Potter, the reason why you always have someone with you isn't because you have friends. It's because you're a wild card. A loose canon. A double-edged sword."

At this Harry growled in frustration. It probably wasn't as impressive as an adult monster growl, but it showed how angry he was at the accusations being thrown at him. He wasn't stupid and he sure as hell was not a Gryffindor. "I cannot be all that at once."

"You can and you are," Crabbe snapped. "You're like a baby, Potter. You have no training, no mask. You have the fame to rival Dumbledore but your sorting has brought you notoriety. Noble families have long since known you were a dark wizard to rival that of the Dark Lord but now the sheep are saying it too and with much less reverence. You cross House lines and are completely oblivious to the hierarchy your existence has disrupted in Slytherin. I bet you haven't even noticed the fighting amongst the lower years."

Harry frowned. "But Slytherins aren't allowed to fight with each oth-"

"Like a child. Naive and trusting. Foolish and blind. You're being watched, Potter. Monitored. Protected from your own lack of skills in operating within the house you sorted. By right, it is to fall to Malfoy or Professor Snape to show you the basics if an upperclassman does not claim you. But you've managed to somehow piss off our Head of House and can't bite your tongue around Malfoy without literally biting your tongue."

It felt like a rock was lodged in Harry's throat. He knew what the burning in his eyes and the pain in his chest meant. It was the premature of tears but he hadn't cried in years. The Dursley's had lost their control over his emotions in that way about the same time he had started first form. Crying from pain was something entirely different than crying from emotion. And right now Harry felt like he was lacking. Unworthy. A waste of life, and now of magic. He had thought he had friends amongst the Slytherins. Had friends amongst the other witches and wizards.

"So why do you even bother? Just leave me be," he croaked around the lump in his throat.

"Because leaving you alone would be the biggest mistake of my life."

Harry scowled. For all of his harsh words Crabbe still didn't look at all apologetic. "What...?"

"Right now no one wants to deal with you so everyone pretty much ignores you. That is a mistake I will not be making. You might not be the freak of nature that Granger is, but I can tell you're smart. You soak up anything from the lessons that catch your attention. You have an uncanny sensitivity to passive magic and an eye for battle magic. I wouldn't put it past you to have a proficiency in the Dark Arts, either."

Harry wrinkled his nose in distrust. "Dark Arts is illegal at Hogwarts, Crabbe," he recited the politically correct statement.

The smile that the taller male gave Harry had excitement shooting through his chest for some unknown reason. As if Crabbe had a secret he was going to share with him. 'But then again', Harry had to remind himself. 'You're not friends. Why would he share anything with you? There's going to be a cost. There's always a cost in Slytherin house.'

"So you're sticking it out because you think I'll be someone useful one day."

Crabbe's smile grew a sharp edge. "You're already useful, Potter. I'm sticking around because I know you're going to change the world."

Harry blinked. Then he blinked again. That wasn't at all what he had been expecting. "The wizarding world has been infamously resistant to change."

"I didn't say anything about just the wizarding world."

Harry gasped. What was that supposed to mean? In truth it had been the British Wizarding World that his father had tried to fix. To alter the wizarding world as a whole was just a pipe dream Harry hoped he could help his father to attain. But the entire world? Both magical and muggle? From every human, goblin, elf, and selkie. Because that was what it had sounded like Crabbe was suggesting.

By the time Harry's gaze snapped back up to Crabbe he was already several steps further down the corridor. "We'll be late to Herbology if you don't hurry."

A/N: In my initial notes I had the third chapter as the end of their first year after Harry's annual meeting with You-Know-Who. Just imagine how behemoth these chapters would be if I had left it like that! But once I fleshed out the beginning more to validate character developments that are realities in the middle and latter half of the story it became completely impossible to do it any justice with the only a handful of build up chapters. So instead I ended up with these little filler chapters that although important, are slow paced. As the story progresses these chapters will become bigger (six through ten are among my bigger word counts presently) so there's that to look forward to.

Updated: January 2021

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