Chapter 5: Autumn 1990

The rest of the summer continued in a way that somehow both flew by and dragged on. Before he knew it, summer assignments were completed, trunks were packed, and Harry was standing on Platform Nine and Three Quarters, ready to begin his second year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Much like the previous year, Harry found himself in the company of his father, brother, and two uncles, who had come to see him off on the train. Much like the previous year, John was complaining to anyone who would listen about the injustice of not being able to start Hogwarts, despite being only ten-years-old. But unlike before, Harry didn't feel overwhelming dread like he had in the days leading up to the previous autumn term. This time, he knew where he would be sleeping, he knew his way around the castle, and he knew he had at least one friend.

Bolstered by the knowledge that he belonged there, Harry hopped on the Hogwarts Express and claimed a compartment for himself and Cedric. Medusa slithered out of his bag and onto one of the seats, letting out a content hiss as she settled into a patch of sunlight. His snake hadn't been pleased when he had asked her to get in and it had taken several mice to bribe her. She had grown over the summer, and while she was only about a foot in length, all his books said that she would get bigger. He would need to figure out a better solution for his reptilian friend. It was already becoming difficult to hide her in his school bag and he could hardly walk around with an adder draped over his shoulders.

His mind wandered towards extensions charms as he hefted his trunk up onto the luggage rack. He doubted he would be able to cast one himself, but perhaps he could persuade Professor Flitwick to help him? The charms professor had always been kind to him, and he was a Ravenclaw to boot: he would probably be thrilled to help him if he phrased it correctly. Maybe if he said he wanted to learn how to fit more books in his bag?

Two sets of rough hands interrupted his musing and Harry found himself pulled him into a compartment. A scuffle ensued while Harry scrambled out of their grip and fumbled for his wand, stomping on one of their feet in the process. His assailant swore colourfully and let him go whilst the other shot off a stinging hex. Harry ducked and spun to face his attackers, wand held aloft, only to find himself face to face with the Weasley twins. This revelation did nothing to calm him. He planted his feet and glared up at the boys, a defiant set to his jaw. He had expected a confrontation sooner or later, but he was surprised by the boy's initiative to harass him before the train had even left for the station.

"Don't you dare even think about talking to her, Potter," the one on the left said, stepping closer, towering over him.

Whatever he had been expecting, it hadn't been that. His wand dipped a fraction of an inch as he considered the boys in front of him.

"Our sister," the right one clarified. "We know you've been talking to her."

"This is your only warning: leave her alone. She doesn't need you corrupting her."

Harry managed to not roll his eyes. It would be so like the Weasley twins to think that he was a bad influence on Ginny. As if Ginny did anything she didn't want to do. If anything, he should worry about being corrupted by her. Not that he said this of course. His lack of a response only seemed to irritate the twins further.

The one on the left took another step forward and Harry was forced to crane his neck to look him in the eye. "You'll keep your snaky self away from her if you know what's good for you. Got it?"

Harry gave them a sharp nod.

The twins watched him for a moment longer. When it became apparent that this was the only confirmation they were going to receive, they shouldered past him, almost knocking him to the ground as they exited the compartment. Harry gave them a moment's head start before following after. He hopped off the train and rejoined his family, getting last minute hugs from his father and Uncles.

"Make sure to write and stay out of trouble," His father said before rapping Harry on the head with his wand in a desperate attempt to fix his hair. He sighed and declared it a lost cause. "Twelve-years-old already. When did that happen?"

"I think we're getting old," Uncle Remus teased while he pressed a kiss to Harry's still messy hair. "Have a good term, love. We'll see you at Christmas." His uncle slipped a battered book into his arms before nudging him towards Uncle Sirius.

"Speak for yourself," Uncle Sirius said, pulling Harry in for a hug. "Don't stay out of too much trouble," he whispered in his ear. "You should have a little fun at school."

Harry nodded at his godfather and the two shared a brief conspiratorial grin. He turned towards the last remaining member of his family with a sigh. John gave him a pathetic look, his hazel eyes brimming with unshed tears. Harry knew his brother was lonely at Potter Manor, even if he did have the undivided attention of their father and uncles. Familial love could only get you so far, and without Harry around, John wouldn't be around people his own age until Harry came home for Christmas. It was an isolating feeling that Harry was all too familiar with, and his heart broke for his younger brother.

"It's only one more year," he said, pulling him in for a hug when it became clear that he was content to mope at their father's side.

John glared at Harry's attempt to comfort him.

"I'll send you my class notes," Harry promised. "And I'll make study guides for you."

"Yay," John said, his voice watery. "More school. As if I won't be studying enough with Uncle Remus."

Harry sighed in defeat, knowing there was no consoling his brother when he was determined to remain morose. Nevertheless, he pressed a swift kiss to his brother's temple before stepping away to bid his family a final farewell. Unlike the previous year, it was much easier to hop aboard the Hogwarts Express when it blew its warning whistle.

A tiny hand grabbed a hold of him, and for a moment, he thought John was trying to stop him from catching the train. He spun around, ready to shove him towards their father, only to stop when he realised that it wasn't John, but Ginny.

"You promised you'd write to me!" she snapped, her eyes blazing.

The sound of carriage doors slamming shut, and Harry felt his heart leap to his chest. He knew he didn't have time to spare, that he should shake off her hands and dash off. He knew that Fred and George could be watching him at that very moment, ready to hex him into oblivion for breaking his promise to stay away from their little sister. But Ginny was his friend, and even if his common sense was screaming at him to run in the other direction, he would make time for her.

"Of course I will," Harry whispered, crouching down so that they were at eye level.

"But Fred said—"

"Not to speak to you," he said, reaching forward to tap her nose. "He didn't say anything about writing letters."

"So you'll still write to me?" she confirmed, hugging her skinny arms around her middle, looking confused.

Harry laughed and tugged on a lock of her fiery hair. "Expect Hedwig sometime next week."

The train's breaks squealed and the engine roared to life. He was out of time. Without waiting for her response, he spun around and leapt onto the moving train, swinging the door shut behind him. He waved to his family, who blew him kisses, and to Ginny who chased after the train, something between a sob and a smile on her face. He watched with a mixture of sadness and excitement as they got smaller and smaller as the train pulled away from the platform until they were out of sight altogether.

Cedric was already waiting for him in the compartment. His other Hufflepuff friends hadn't arrived yet, which was the only reason Medusa was curled up in his lap. He was hissing at her like one might meow at a cat, though the sounds held little meaning. Every once in a while, he'd let out a hiss that would resemble a word in Parseltongue, such as "kettle" or "oak tree", and Medusa would give him a confused look at the disjointed nonsense.

"Is he broken?" She asked when she noticed Harry's presence.

Harry laughed and shook his head. "No more than usual."

Cedric, who had become rather accustomed to their hissed conversations, ignored them completely. "What do you have?" he asked, nodding at Harry's book.

Harry glanced down at the faded cover. Into the Aether: A Theory of Expansion, the title proclaimed, its gold foiling long since peeled off. A grin split over his face at Uncle Remus' foresight. "A new project."

Cedric began to fidget in anticipation, an excited gleam in his eye. "What time shall I be at the Slytherin Common Room?"

Harry shook his head. "Not the first night back. The older students will be up late tonight and we have class tomorrow."

"Bah!" Cedric exclaimed. "You're no fun. Wouldn't you agree, Medusa?"

The snake nodded in agreement.

Harry rolled his eyes at their antics. "In the meantime, I found a charm that might be useful. Would you like to learn it?"

The spent the majority of the journey to Hogsmeade Station practising the Flame Freezing Charm. Harry explained it was so that they could enter Slytherin's study without having to douse the fire in the Common Room ("It'll be more dramatic, you see," Harry teased). Cedric's friends wandered in and out, inquiring about their summer and discussing the upcoming term. Harry stayed quiet for the most part, speaking only when spoken to. He was surprised to find them less exhausting than he had the previous year.

The carriages were already waiting for them when they stepped off the Hogwarts Express that evening, pulled by the same skeleton horses that he had seen the previous year. The creature pulling their carriage shrieked with what might have been delight when Harry offered it a hunk of meat he had smuggled from home. He'd have to seek out the horses this year, he decided as he clambered into the carriage after Cedric and his friends. He hadn't had the time to research them last year and they had completely slipped his mind over the summer. Tuning out of the noisy conversation around him, he reached into his bag and extracted his copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, and began to search for references to carnivorous skeletons.

His reading carried him all the way up to the castle, pausing only so he could move into the Great Hall. Waving goodbye to Cedric, he took his place at the Slytherin table and buried his nose in his book once more. He was aware of the seats around him filling up. He was also aware that his housemates were careful not to sit too close to him. That suited him fine. In fact, the only one to interact with him was a Seventh Year prefect, who snapped at him to put away his book before the Sorting Ceremony started. He complied and settled for surveying the Great Hall, his face a mask of polite disinterest. Then the doors opened and Professor McGonagall was leading in the nervous first years.

It was a different experience, watching rather than participating in the sorting. He remembered the dissociative feeling of walking up, the horror after being declared a Slytherin, and the terror when he realised he had no clue what to do next. The first student went to Gryffindor, who cheered as they greeted their newest housemate. Chang got her wish and skipped off towards the Eagles after a moment of deliberation on the hat's part. He didn't catch the next student's name, but it was hard to miss the girl as she bounded forward, her strawberry blond curls bouncing along with her. It took less than a minute for the Sorting Hat to declare her a Slytherin. The prospect seemed to excite her, a wide grin splitting her face. That was until the Weasley twins started to boo her and the unbridled enthusiasm melted into confusion.

That was the first tip-off that something was wrong about Grace Cooper.

She hopped off the wooden stool and picked her way towards the silver and green adorned table. As she approached, Harry noticed the colourful little clips in her hair, shaped like butterflies. They were made of the shiny, hard material that muggles liked to use. Plastic, he thought it was called. Witches don't put plastic in their hair. They used strips of ribbon or leather thongs, stick wood rods through their buns or hold it back with magic. But never plastic. His heart clenched at the sight. It wouldn't take long for the other Slytherins to spot what he noticed; they are a shrewd lot, after all.

Grace Cooper was a Muggle-born, and she'd been inducted into the house of snakes.

Her dark hazel eyes scanned the table, searching for a place to sit. As the first Slytherin of the year, she didn't have any other peers to sit with yet. A small blessing. He caught her eye and waved her over, motioning for her to take the vacant seat next to him. Relief softened her face, and Harry wanted to tell her not to thank him yet. She had a long year ahead of her, and the sorting hat had done her no favours.

"Take the clips out of your hair," he whispered into her ear the second she slid onto the bench next to him.

She looked up at him, her brow furrowing in confusion. He didn't give her a chance to ask why.

"My name is Harry, and if you want to survive, you need to listen to me." To anyone else, his statement would have been the epitome of melodrama. But those people hadn't walked through the hellscape that was the Slytherin common room.

"Do not mention to anyone that your parents are non-magical," he hissed, giving an apathetic clap when "Kapoor, Anjali!" went to Gryffindor.

Cooper paused, her hands tangled in her hair. "How did you know?"

Her question confirmed what he already knew and his heart squeezed in his chest. He glanced over at the other Slytherins, who were still watching the sorting, paying him no mind. "I'll explain everything later," he replied. "But Slytherin has a bad reputation. Muggleborns aren't always well received."

He hoped he was wrong, of course. He hoped that people had learned from the Great Wizarding War. He desperately wished that he was wrong, that Slytherins weren't all blood purists, spouting off hate they had learned from their parents. They weren't their parents, after all. Maybe they could think for themselves. Maybe they hated Harry for reasons other than being related to the Boy Who Lived. Maybe Cooper would be safe and their house would embrace her and protect her in a way they never had with him.

"Is it really such a bad thing?" she whispered, pretending to listen to Dumbledore's start of term announcements.

"I regret to inform you," Professor Dumbledore began, "that Professor Quirrell has decided to take a year-long sabbatical. In his absence, Professor Burbage will be taking over his Muggle Studies classes. I hope you will do all you can, to make her feel welcome."

"Another Mudblood lover. Just what this school needs," Nettles jeered, his voice carrying enough so that even several feet away, Harry had no trouble hearing it. Next to him, Cooper tensed.

"Houses are just support systems," His father had promised. "They don't define you."

If only it were that easy.

Genius Fratris

Harry was already waiting outside the Hufflepuff common room when Cedric exited the next morning. This by itself wasn't an unusual occurrence. Harry tended to be an early riser and could usually be found loitering around the first floor of the castle before breakfast. What was different was that he wasn't alone. A willowy girl wearing green lined robes hovered at his side, speaking to him in a low tone.

"This is Grace Cooper," Harry said in lieu of a greeting. "She's our new friend."

That brought Cedric up short. Harry didn't have friends, himself excluded. Especially not one in his own house. "And is she okay with that?" he asked, shooting a wary glance at the newcomer.

Cooper gave him an appraising look and Cedric had to fight the urge to fidget in place under her scrutiny. "That depends. Will you call me a Mudblood?" She asked in a posh accent, her words clipped and precise.

Cedric startled at the vulgarity and opened his mouth to chastise her, only to pause when he registered her words. She was a Muggle-born? In Slytherin? Her presence suddenly made a lot more sense. Harry had a bleeding heart and a compulsive need to make friends (he had, after all, befriended a venomous snake after it bit him). "I should think not. That's not a word you use in polite conversation."

Cooper scrutinised him for a moment longer before giving a sharp nod. Spinning on her heal, she floated down the corridor in the direction of the Great Hall, her robes swishing in a dramatic fashion. Cedric and Harry exchanged a look before following after her.

"Will you bring her to the Study tonight?" he murmured, hoping Cooper was too far to hear their conversation.

Harry looked surprised as if the idea hadn't occurred to him. "You think I should?"

His first instinct was to say no. Slytherin's study was their secret, and he had no desire to let somebody new in on it. Plus, they didn't need another friend, especially not a girl, to intrude on their dyad. But then he reminded himself that the room wasn't his, and it wouldn't be fair of him to dictate who had access. If anything, it was Harry's room, seeing as he was the only Parselmouth in the school who could open it. And it wouldn't be fair to reject the girl, simply because Cedric didn't want to share Harry. After all, he had other friends (even if Harry was his favourite). Besides, Harry needed an ally in Slytherin. And by the sounds of it, Cooper would too. "Yes," he said at last. "I think you'd better."

"If the two of you have finished gossiping back there," Cooper called back. "I'd like to attend breakfast at some point this morning."

Cedric fixed a charming grin on to his face and caught up to the girl, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "Anything the lady wishes!"

Harry trailed behind the pair, his stomach writhing as if it were filled with snakes. He had been up since the crack of dawn, giving Cooper a crash course on the wizarding world. There was only so much you could learn in three hours though, and Harry wasn't sure Cooper had understood the magnitude of her situation. All it would take was one reaction for their housemates to realise what she was. Harry had advised her not to react to anything if she could help it, and he'd answer her questions later, but he wasn't sure how much good it would do. Cooper seemed annoyingly headstrong.

"He worries too much," she said in response to something Cedric had said. It didn't take much brainpower to deduce that he was the subject of their conversation.

"You'll get used to it," Cedric promised, shooting Harry a wink.

Harry scowled at the two of them. "You should be worried too, Cooper—"

"Grace," she corrected. "If we're to be best friends now, you should call me by my name. It's only right."

Cedric laughed and tugged on a lock of her hair. "Who said anything about being best friends?"

"Me," she replied, raising an eyebrow and daring one of them to challenge her.

When neither of them did (though it could have been because of their stunned disbelief), her face melted into a sweet smile. Threading her arms through both boys', she allowed them to escort her to breakfast, chatting amicably to them the entire way. They settled onto the same bench, Cooper sheltered between them, with Cedric going so far as to fill up her plate. She played the part of a simpering pure-blood princess with remarkable ease. Had Harry not known the truth of her heritage, even he would have been convinced.

Their breakfast was disturbed when Marcus Flint stomped into the Great Hall and threw himself down a few seats away. The scowl on his face sent a First Year sprinting away in terror, abandoning his half-eaten bowl of porridge. Harry could understand why: the burly fourteen-year-old already towered over six feet tall and possessed an infamous temper. Despite this, he was easily one of the more popular students in Slytherin, though, his Quidditch prowess might have been to thank for that. In fact, it came as no surprise to anyone that he had been named Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, despite being only a Fourth Year.

"You'll never guess who's been named Gryffindor's captain," He growled to his friends.

"Charlie Weasley?" one of them replied, his voice still heavy with sleep. "I heard him bragging about it on the train."

Flint shot off a hex at his friend, who yelped and upended a jug of pumpkin juice. "I thought for sure it would be Wood. I spent all summer devising plays and now I'll have to rethink my entire strategy."

"Will you be retrying the entire team?" Harry found himself asking.

Flint turned and glared at him. Though considering Flint was always angry, Harry wasn't too concerned. "Hadn't thought about it," he growled.

Harry hummed into his tea and went back to eating his toast.

"What's it to you?"

It took a moment for Harry to realise that Flint was still talking to him. "Even with his attention divided as Captain, Weasley is a devil on the broom," he said, managing not to stumble over his words. "You'll need a better seeker at the least."

"And at most?"

Harry couldn't tell if Flint was actually interested or was about to punch his lights out. He took a sip from his teacup to calm himself. He hoped the Fourth Year didn't notice that his hands were shaking.

"Wood won't have to worry about captaining, so the defence will be tighter. I heard he spent all summer practising, too. You'll want better scorers." He was thankful Flint didn't ask him for his sources. He could hardly tell him that Ginny had been complaining about Wood's presence at the Burrow, after all.

Flint's eyes narrowed even further. "Potter, isn't it?" When Harry nodded, Flint gave him a feral grin. Harry swallowed and resisted the urge to vomit. "Interested in joining the team?"

It was Cooper who answered for him. "He'd love to," she said in her clipped, precise voice.

The fact that Harry hadn't said anything didn't seem to bother Flint, who gave him a sharp nod. "Excellent. I'll see you at try-outs."

Harry spluttered in surprise, but Flint had already disengaged by the time he managed to formulate a reply. "Why would you do that?" He hissed at the girl at his side, ignoring Cedric's guffaws.

She shrugged. "You wanted to try-out or you wouldn't have asked. I saved you the trouble of having to do it."

"Do you even know what you volunteered him for?" Cedric asked.

"Well, I assume it has something to do with flying," she replied. "What did I sign you up for?"

"Quidditch," Harry said, only somewhat grumpily. She hadn't been wrong in her assumption, after all. He was interested in trying out. He just rather she didn't speak for him.

She gave him a questioning look, but before he could reply, Hera Urquart, a girl in Harry's year, inserted herself into their conversation. Urquart was an average looking girl, with dark hair, large doe brown eyes, and aristocratic features that were hidden under a layer of baby fat. Harry also knew that she owned a pet rat, if only because he often had to convince Medusa not to eat it. She was one of the more tame Second Year Slytherins, though the title wasn't difficult to claim. Just because Urquart didn't partake in the violent harassment of Harry, she was far from harmless. What she lacked in physical prowess she made up with her poisoned tongue. She could often be found following Nettles around, tittering at jokes made at Harry's expense.

"Are you a fan, Cooper?" she asked, surveying Cooper through narrowed eyes.

Ice filled his veins at Urquart's question. He hadn't explained Quidditch, he realised. He should have known that it would come up. It was only the largest sport in the wizarding world. How could he have been so stupid? Holding his breath, he turned to face Cooper, waiting for her reply.

Cooper paused for the briefest of seconds before the serene mask was back over her face. "No, I should think not. Mother says it isn't ladylike."

Urquart nodded in agreement. "Mother won't even let me fly," she said, somewhat wistfully. "She says it's too dangerous."

Crisis averted, Harry sunk back into his breakfast, keeping an ear on the two girl's conversation, ready to cut in if needed. His worries were unfounded, however, as Cooper gracefully nudged the conversation away from the topic with practised ease. Her manners were impeccable and spoke of years of etiquette training that all wealthy pure-bloods could identify with. And what she didn't know, she was excellent at faking. Cooper might have come from a muggle family, but it quickly became clear that she felt right at home in the upper echelon of society.

For the first time since her sorting, Harry felt hope flare in his chest. Maybe they could make this work after all.

A shadow fell over them in the form of Professor Snape, who sneered down his hooked nose at them. Every student within a five-foot radius fell silent as he loomed over the Slytherin table. Even First Years knew better than to draw the Potions Master's ire so early in the morning. A large stack of parchment was cradled in his arms, which Harry assumed to be their class schedules.

"Mr Diggory," Professor Snape drawled. "I don't recall you being resorted into my house."

Cedric was either very brave or a lunatic because he looked up at their Potions master with a cheeky smile. "I don't recall that happening either, Professor."

There was a beat of silence where they stared at each other for an uncomfortably long amount of time. Professor Snape raised a pointed eyebrow. "Why are you still here?"

Cedric gave a chagrined grin before rising. "I'll see you around, Harry," he said. Then, before anyone could react, he swooped down and planted a kiss on Cooper's cheek. "Good luck today, Gracie!" he called, sprinting off.

Hera Urquart giggled, only to stop when Snape sneered at her. Harry, who keenly recalled his last encounter with Snape, shrunk into himself and tried to draw as little attention as possible. With no further disruptions, Snape began to pass out their class schedules, stopping only to scowl at a brave first year that asked for a map of the castle.

Harry read over his schedule after it was thrust into his hands by his taciturn Head of House. He had an easy morning, with Charms first thing with the Hufflepuffs followed by an all Slytherin lesson of History of Magic. He debated whether or not he should sneak out after Binns took attendance. He could use the hour to do his homework (though he doubted Flitwick would assign any on the first day), or read the book Uncle Remus has given him. Then again, the ghostly professor's droning voice was more likely to lull him to sleep, rather than allow him to read in peace.

His mind still not made up, he turned back towards Cooper, who was studying her own schedule. He caught the tail end of Urquart giving her advice about her classes for the day. "McGonagall is strict," she said. "I won't say she hates Slytherins, but you'll really have to impress her if you want to get points in her class."

Harry had to roll his eyes at Urquart's assessment. Just because McGonagall didn't share Snape's blatant favouritism, didn't mean she hated Slytherins. If anything, Harry thought McGonagall was one of the fairest of all the professors. Even Sprout and Flitwick had their favourite students. Besides, Urquart was notoriously bad at Transfiguration. She never missed an opportunity to malign their professor.

Grace nodded in appreciation of Urquart's wisdom before glancing over at Harry. "Where is the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom?"

Urquart butt into their conversation once more with as much delicacy as a rampaging Erumpent. "I can show her around, Potter."

Harry levelled a stare at Urquart, considering her offer. The girl had been nothing but polite to both him and Cooper since she had joined them at the breakfast table. Sure, she came off as a bit nosey, but being curious about a new housemate was hardly a crime. Perhaps she was genuinely interested in befriending Cooper. But what if she wasn't?

Whilst the girl wasn't one of his main tormentors, she was still friends with the likes of Atticus Nettles. He wouldn't put it past any of the Second Year Slytherins to try to get to him through Cooper. They might try to separate them, which could prove dangerous for her. Or turn her against him, which could prove dangerous for him. He didn't need another enemy in his house. And besides, he kind of liked Cooper. She was almost funny when she wasn't disregarding her own safety or signing him up for extracurricular activities.

"What, don't you trust me?" she asked, voicing his inner thoughts.

His skin prickled as if hundreds of eyes were scrutinising his every move. He pursed his lips, his mind scrambling to find ulterior motives and hidden plots and plots within those plots. Maybe Urquart was being polite. Maybe the other Second Years were curious about Harry's interest in Cooper and wanted to see what the fuss was about. Or maybe they already guessed that she was a Muggle-born, and wanted to get her alone to confirm their suspicions.

If that was the case, they'd have to try harder. Cooper had said it herself: they were best friends now, and he wasn't about to give that up. He rose from his seat, taking Cooper's schedule out of her hands and memorised it. After a moment, he turned and offered his elbow to her, nodding towards the direction of the exit. Grace smiled and threaded her arm through his. And together, they walked out of Great Hall.

Genius Fratris

Despite being the one to suggest it, Cedric was more worried about showing Grace the Study than Harry was. Even if she did dob them in, it wasn't like she could prove anything, considering Harry was the only person who could open it. Besides, Harry knew her secret. (Even if he never would reveal it, Grace didn't know that.) She had far more to lose if that secret was revealed than Harry's secret room. Cedric looked disturbed and pointed out that that was a very Slytherin sentiment. In the end, his fretting had all been for nought. Grace was far too enchanted with the Study to risk losing it.

"It's like something out of a fairy tale," she breathed after stepping through the grand fireplace for the first time. Her eyes were wide with wonder as she took in the dimly lit room and she wandered along the tall book stacks, her fingers running over the book spines. The cool mask she fixed to her face melted away, making her look several years younger than she was. She extracted a book at random and settled into one of the settees by the fire, dangling her feet over its arm. "I knew it was a good idea to befriend you."

Grace quickly cemented herself into Harry and Cedric's lives after that. It was difficult to go anywhere without her curly blonde head close by. Cedric appreciated the new conversation partner, a role Harry was only too willing to relinquish. She was brimming with curiosity and full of questions, which she saved up for their evenings spent in Slytherin's study. She was like a sponge, soaking up anything and everything that Harry and Cedric threw at her, and had the uncanny ability to know what to do with the information. The boys were surprised to learn that the posh, rich girl attitude they were accustomed to was an act to fit in with her snooty neighbours back home. ("I'm from Surrey," she explained with a laugh. "But if you grew up in Little Whinging, you'd learn to act like this too.").

She brought an interesting dynamic to their group, as well. Where Harry was often meek and Cedric played mediator, Grace was bold and almost Gryffindor like with her brashness. Her impulsiveness led to midnight raids on the kitchens, sneaking into the library after hours for no other reason than to say that they did, and on one warm night, swimming in the Black Lake. She introduced a certain brand of chaos into their lives, and for the first time in years, Harry found himself having fun rather than settling for content.

Three weeks later, Harry stood amongst the other prospective Quidditch players, clutching his Cleansweep Seven so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Grace, who had no interest in Quidditch, had elected to wander the grounds with Cedric, who, as a Hufflepuff, wouldn't've been welcomed at try-outs. Harry tried not to be disappointed, but it would have been nice to have friends cheer him on like the other students. All he had was Nettles hurling insults from the stands, and that didn't instil much confidence in him.

One by one, Flint sent them up into the air and watched them with a critical eye as they circled the pitch. Some Slytherins barely made it halfway before being kicked out of tryouts by Flint. One unfortunate Third Year crashed into a goal post and had to be taken to the Hospital Wing on a stretcher. Harry's own flight was less than stellar, and Harry had to swerve like a maniac to avoid Nettle's jinxes. He landed roughly on the pitch after a well-aimed sting hex hit him square in the back.

Despite Nettle's best efforts, Harry found himself pushed through increasingly gruelling trials as the crowd around him got thinner until only a handful of students were left. Then it devolved into what could only be described as a bloodbath. All prospective team members were sent up into the air and a scrimmage that vaguely resembled a Quidditch game commenced. By that point, the try-outs had been going on for hours and it took all of Harry's skill to stay on his broom. He spent the majority of his time rolling out the way of Bludgers and attempting to steal the Quaffle from the older and heavier players. He managed to score a respectable three goals before Flint called them down. Though compared to Adrian Pucey, who scored a staggering twenty-eight times, Harry wasn't all that confident with his performance.

He waited, battered and bruised, for Flint to finish making his final decision. His ribs smarted where they took a nasty hit from Graham Montague's elbow and daydreamed about taking a hot bath when he got back to the dormitory.

Miles Bletchley reclaimed his position of Keeper to a chorus of thunderous applause. The reedy looking third year was nothing but limbs and walked with the grace of a newborn giraffe. Despite his gangly stature (or perhaps because of it), he was adept at defending the goalposts and the obvious choice for the position. He didn't even bother listening to the names of the new Beaters, knowing there was no chance of being chosen for the position. The two boys who were selected were so big that Harry wondered if they took Swelling Solutions with their morning tea. It didn't seem possible to be that muscular. Peregrine Mulciber and Adrian Pucey joined Flint for the Chaser position. Pucey, despite being a Second Year, was agile in the air and had a wicked accuracy when it came to scoring. Mulciber was an interesting choice for a Chaser, as his massive frame was better suited for Beater, but Harry couldn't deny that the lumbering Fifth Year had one hell of a throwing arm.

He refrained from sighing. Chaser was the only position he had any hope of earning. He should have known that there was no hope in making it on the team. The other boys were bigger than he was and infinitely more aggressive. In fact, it was probably a good thing he hadn't been chosen. He made enough trips to the Infirmary on a weekly basis due to bullying. Madame Pomphrey would tie him to a bed for the rest of the year if he added 'Quidditch Injuries' to the long list of ailments she needed to fix up. Besides, if he wasn't on the Quidditch team, he would have more time to study.

"Potter," Flint called, holding a set of green robes emblazoned with the number '7'. "Seeker."

The air left Harry's lungs and he had to pinch himself. Surely he had misheard. There was no way he was seeker, not as a Second Year. Not when the Seeker from the previous year, Terrence Higgs, was standing feet away from him.

Higgs seemed to have the same line of thought. "What?" he yelped. He shot an incredulous look between Flint and Harry, certain he had misheard. Harry understood the sentiment.

"Potter," Flint repeated, looking more surly than usual. "Seeker."

"You want him?" Higgs asked. This time, his look of disbelief was marred by disgust, and Harry fought the urge to shrink in on himself. "Why?"

"I don't need to explain my choices to you," Flint growled, stepping forward and shoving the robes into Harry's arms when it became clear he wasn't going to take it himself.

"He doesn't even speak!" Higgs said, gesturing at Harry.

"He doesn't need to speak to catch the snitch," Flint snarled in reply. "In fact, it's better if he doesn't."

"I've been on the team for two years!" Higgs shouted, looking very much like he wanted to punch Flint in the face.

"And in two years, how many times have you caught the snitch?" Flint asked, his voice icy. He sneered down at Higgs in distaste. Higgs' mouth opened and shut, but he didn't answer. "That's right. None. I'm building a winning team here, Terrence, and it doesn't include you. Now, get off my pitch before I hex you."

Higgs' face turned puce. He snapped his jaw shut, spun on his heal, and left the field, though not before levelling a murderous glare at Harry.

"I better not regret this, Potter," Flint grunted before shoving past Harry and disappearing into the changing room. His new teammates watched him leave in silence before turning their eyes on Harry. No one spoke and Harry tried not to fidget under their calculating stares. Then, one by one, they turned and followed after Flint, until Harry was left standing alone in the middle of the Quidditch pitch.

He was elated to have made the team, but that didn't stop his stomach from writhing like snakes. Higgs wouldn't take the loss of his position lightly, and he had always been willing to aid Nettles in his quest of tormenting Harry. What would happen now that he had a motive to harass him? He wasn't sure how long he stood there, but the shadows began to creep across the field, and he knew that dinner would be starting soon. Cedric would be worried. Grace would be insufferable, no doubt, when she heard the news. He could hear her taking credit for his spot already.

His spot, on the Quidditch team. Slytherin's seeker. He couldn't keep the broad grin off his face. He'd have to write to his family with the news. They'd be thrilled. Uncle Sirius might even show up to a match wearing green.

Life changed, as it so often did, but this time, for the better. Joining the Quidditch team afforded Harry a new status in Slytherin that he hadn't had before— namely, the majority of his Housemates weren't trying to send him to the Hospital Wing. That wasn't to say everyone was happy with his appointment. Higgs, in particular, seemed to take his replacement as a personal slight. He took to making snide comments whenever Harry was in hearing range and starting rumours about how he bought his way onto the team. Fortunately, it never escalated into anything physical, though that could have been due to Flint's uncanny ability to always be in the general vicinity when an altercation was imminent. His dorm mates had even called a ceasefire, much to Nettles' disappointment. They settled for pretending like he wasn't there when they could, and quiet contempt when they couldn't. Pucey even talked to him on occasion, and whilst it was always about Quidditch, Harry would take whatever friendly interaction he could get.

Of course, he still found himself dodging hexes from Gryffindor as the first Quidditch match of the season approached, but that was to be expected. Especially since the Weasley terrors had both made the team. Like a poorly choreographed dance, it became routine to avoid their jinxes in the corridors between classes. And on the first Saturday in November, Harry took great pleasure in snatching the snitch from under Charlie Weasley's nose and securing a win for Slytherin.

The after-party lasted throughout the night, and Harry didn't stop smiling the entire time.


"It's only after you've stepped outside your comfort zone that you begin to change, grow, and transform." ― Roy T. Bennett


A/N: I just realised that you, as readers, don't have access to all of my notes, and therefore, don't know the names of the other Slytherins in Harry's year. So here they are, in alphabetical order, in case you were curious.

The boys: Graham Montague, Atticus Nettles, Adrian Pucey, Cassius Warrington

The girls: Aurora Dodderage, Cordelia Gamp, Willow Hornby, Beatrice Trouche, Hera Urquart

They're a mixture of canon names and names from a fantasy name generator.

Anyway. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. If you want to make me happy, leave a review and let me know what you thought!