Disclaimer: Nothing in the Harry Potter universe is mine. I simply love to play with it.
AN: Thank you all for reading, following, favouring and reviewing. Thank you all for reading, subscribing, bookmarking and commenting. And for all the kudos! It is always nice to know that people appreciate what I write. You all deserve hugs and lots of salted-caramel ice-cream or Oreos, whatever you prefer.
I am sorry that it took so long for me to update. This fanfic is not my priority in the moment between LtE and WiB.
And Real-life was very demanding. November and December are not emotional good month for my family and I and work was a b****.
And then I got completely distracted and hooked up by several things. First with Yuri! on ICE (watched it definitely more than once), then I found the wonderful author Heidi Cullinan. Her books are brilliant, I am on my way reading them all. My favourites are Carry the Ocean, Antisocial and Special Delivery.
And last week someone recommended the book Simon vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda to me - OMG I love it and the movie adaption (Love, Simon) too. Watching and reading this I somehow wish I had a coming out in school. Which I hadn't (for me it was always obvious that I am not hetero) but I was this nerdy antisocial girl with the I-am-not-interested-in-the-world-or-people-so-they-have-no-business-being-interested-in-me-attitude, nobody ever asked so I never told. Love, Simon makes me wonder what could have happened.
Okay I am rambling, sorry.
Additionally, I started the new year with a mild concussion. Not the best way to start a new year, but that means it can only get better.
But now, finally I managed to finish this chapter and I really hope you like it.
This chapter is beta'ed by the brilliant vichan and Cameron Lindsey.
Have fun reading.
On with the story.
Chapter 4: The First Morning
Harry tried over and over again to start writing the letter to his godfather again, but the right words weren't coming to him and the longer he held the quill, the more prominent the throbbing in his knuckles became.
He threw the quill aside in frustration and stared into the fireplace where a small fire had been maintained over the night by the house elves. He didn't really know how to go about reassuring Sirius. Hell, he didn't even know how to reassure Ron, who, based off of his disappearing act yesterday, was not nearly as okay with the hat's choice as Hermione was.
In truth, he didn't even know how to reassure himself. He knew he was no different than the previous day when he awoke at Grimmauld Place, but he also knew being sorted into Slytherin would change so much - perhaps too much. However, he wouldn't let his sorting change him.
Harry ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh. He needed to find something to distract his thoughts, so Harry stood up and looked around the sparsely lit common room, which he realized, now that it was completely void of people, was immense compared to its Gryffindor counterpart. As it was in the dungeons, where infinitely more space was available then in the towers, that somehow made sense.
Harry sighed again and wished he was in the smaller, round, warm common room in the lions' tower. It may have been true that the snake's common room was soothing and spacious, but simply wasn't the same. He fiercely missed the familiar atmosphere. Besides, the dark shadows were a bit creepy, now that Harry allowed himself to actually take in the wide, silent room.
The sun was still below the horizon, therefore the crescent-shaped bulge that extended into the Great Lake, with its floor-to-ceiling windows, was cast into darkness. The water lapping against the glass was black, which enhanced the unsettling feeling of being underground. It certainly would take a bit of time to get used to it.
Harry approached the bookshelves separating the section with the windows from the rest of the common room. Of course, the Slytherins had their own little library. He scanned the book titles out of curiosity, and surprisingly there were no Dark Arts books as Harry had assumed there would be. The contents of the bookshelves where actually quite diverse; books on every class Hogwarts offered were there, but there were also subjects like Alchemy, Warding, Healing, Magical Theory, and even household charms.
A book caught his eye, the cover a light red and the title in silver letters. 'Beautify Yourself – Manicure, Glamour, Makeup, and Hairstyle Charms,' he read, a small chuckle escaped his lips. Why was such a book standing proud in the bookshelves of Slytherin house?
'Glamours' suddenly jumped out at him, and he froze as the impending talk with Snape came to mind. Snape had mentioned they speak about his medical history, and that everyone would have a health check; this was something Harry felt that he dreaded even more than his upcoming breakfast with the rest of Slytherin house. He either needed a way around it, or a way to make it appear that everything was just fine.
Harry bit his lower lip as he opened the book in hesitation. He had read about glamours in one of the older books in the Black library, but he hadn't really seen a use for them – as they could not alter or hide curse scars – and he hadn't attempted to memorize what he had read.
The book in his hands sounded and looked like it had been published recently and seemed to be geared towards the fairer gender.
Harry scanned the index and let out a grin. Perhaps it wasn't just the girls that read books like these. He flipped the pages to a specific chapter concerning hairstyles, which described more than a dozen different ways to tame your hair with the help of charms and potions. The chapter practically screamed that Malfoy had read it at some point, especially because someone had put a picture of Malfoy from his second year beside the charm- and potion-combination for the slicked-back style of hair. Scrawled beside the picture was a hasilty written 'prime example', in addition tolengthening the chapter title with a, 'simply ask Malfoy.'
Harry never thought the Slytherins actually had a sense of humour.
Harry shook his head when he realized that he had fallen into that generalized, prejudiced thinking again. Old habits die hard, he supposed.
He flipped to the chapters about glamour charms. The wandwork looked surprisingly simple; what appeared to be challenging was the caster needing the appropriate intent, concentration, and mental picture of what the glamour was designed to accomplish. A perfect glamour wouldn't simply look like what the caster wanted; it would also be stable, durable, and undetectable.
He kept reading, and a sigh of disappointment escaped him at what he learned. The charms only changed what could be seen; everything hidden underneath would still be there - scars would still be palpable, and the charms would not misdirect any kind of medical analysis spell.
Damn the charms wouldn't be useful to him, after all. Regardless, he decided to give them a shot; perhaps he could change his appearance enough to walk around Diagon Alley without anyone recognizing him. It could also help hide the welts from his dorm mates, just in case one of them ever walked in while he changed. He didn't want to explain the half-healed wounds to anyone, and he certainly didn't want his roommates to alert an adult.
It would only result in too many questions - questions Harry didn't want to answer. It wasn't as if those answers would actually change anything.
It never changed anything.
Harry pulled his wand out of his sleeve and decided to practise a glamour on the small scar at the inside of his left hand, where he'd landed in Petunia's rose bushes after Dudley had pushed him. It took him several tries until he got it right and the scar vanished as if it had never been there. He could still feel it, though, just as the book explained.
It reminded him that the problem with the upcoming health examination still wasn't resolved. No matter how much he wracked his brain, Harry couldn't come up with a plan on how to get out of it.
Harry sighed as he realized that there wasn't really anything could do. Besides, he was far better at thinking on his feet and improvising than coming up with plans. He placed the book back on the shelf and scanned the titles for something else to read.
He settled on a book that looked promising: See What Is Coming – Curses and Their Counter-Curses. He returned to his armchair in front of the fireplace and curled up, opening the book. A few minutes later a quiet pop startled him and when he looked up, Harry found a folded blanket and a steaming mug on the table in front of him. He smiled as he arranged the blanket around him. Despite the fire and warming charms in the floor rugs, the dungeons where still rather chilly.
He took a sip from the mug and was pleasantly surprised to find it contained delicious and thick hot chocolate, and he let out a contented sigh. One of the house-elves, who maintained the fire and cleaned the common room, must have seen him. Harry whispered a quiet, "Thank you," which was answered with a delighted squeak from somewhere in the room.
At least the house-elves still liked him, even if he now wore green and silver.
He shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of the insecure thoughts about what the rest of the school's reaction would be to his new sorting and immersed himself in his reading.
Harry was in the middle of turning a page when the sound of footsteps halted his movement. He looked up and realized that the fire was a bit higher, and light shone through the windows with a slight green hue. He must have lost track of time while reading and now the first of his housemates were up and about.
The apprehension about meeting his housemates properly flared up again. As the footsteps neared the common room, Harry finished turning the page but slipped his wand from his sweater's sleeve, hiding it behind the book. He felt somewhat paranoid.
And isn't that lovely? Not feeling entirely safe in my own common room. Harry pushed down the rising bitterness.
An older student stepped into the common room from the doorway leading to the girls' dormitory. Harry thought perhaps she was a sixth or seventh year, and he didn't know her name. The girl was taller, perhaps as tall as Ron, who was already heads above most of the fifth years, and she had dark hair, styled in a short pixie cut.
She halted her steps when she spotted Harry, and then proceeded to hang something on the announcement board. When she was done, she settled down at one of the tables near the board and pulled out some parchment. Soon, the scratching of her quill filled the quiet room.
Harry slid his wand back into his sleeve where he still could grab it if he needed it and tried to shift his concentration back to his book, but little by little more people filtered into the common room. He sighed as he closed the book and placed the blanket on the back of the armchair. He put the book back with reluctance; it had certainly been interesting and well-written. He made a mental note to ask if it was possible to borrow them.
He felt someone watching him as he stood by the bookshelves. It didn't feel at all hostile, but appraising, and perhaps even slightly intrigued. He was in no mood to interact with anyone just yet, so he settled down at a table by the bookshelves tucked in the back of the room.
The more people filed into the common room the more opportunity Harry had to observe his housemates in curiosity, noting the differences and similarities to the Gryffindors. The Slytherin students were rather quiet, especially the older years. The younger ones happily chatted, talking about their summers and their excitement to be at Hogwarts.
No exuberant twin terrors raced through the common room with disgusting cheer and wakefulness, and no half-dressed Lee Jordan hunted them in revenge for a wakeup call in form of a bucket full of cold water. No one was hastily trying to finish the summer assignments, and there was no Ron complaining loudly about being woken up far too early and being hungry.
But there were also many similarities. Some people discussed the upcoming classes and their homework. Others settled in around the room, reading or writing letters. Many others surfaced from the dorms, stumbled in and yawned before falling back to sleep in the armchairs and settees. Groups of girls giggled and exchanged gossip.
The Slytherins spread out across in the common room, clearly waiting for something as it was definitely too early for so many people to already be awake. Breakfast was at least still half an hour away.
Harry caught a glimpse of Malfoy, his platinum blond hair a beacon in the soft light of the room, as well as the other fifth year boys as they walked in. He could tell the moment Zabini, noticed him, and watched as he said something to the others. He was totally prepared to be ignored by his yearmates and was therefore a bit startled when they all made their way over to him.
"Morning, Potter." Zabini said, and Harry had the suspicion that they had chosen him to interact with him because they didn't really have any kind of negative history. That was also the case with Nott, but Harry had the impression the brown-haired boy was not nearly as outspoken as Zabini.
Had they decided it by a vote? Had Zabini volunteered? Or maybe they'd drawn straws? No, that was probably far too muggle for them.
He nodded at the group. "Morning."
They took that as an invitation to sit down, and he caught more than one curious glance in his direction as they settled into an uncomfortable silence. Harry felt his curiosity rise - were they actually trying to include him? Was it really true that being a Slytherin meant they actually did mean to treat him as one of their own?
He'd always attributed loyalty to be one of the main traits of Hufflepuff, not Slytherin.
"We didn't see you get up," Zabini finally said, breaking the strained silence around the table. "Are you always awake that early?" Zabini certainly earned brownie points for at least trying, while Malfoy only muttered something under his breath. Zabini glared at him.
Harry watched the interaction with interest. "Most of the time," he answered. "What are y- we waiting for?" He knew his near slip hadn't gone unnoticed, if the amused glint in Zabini's eyes was any indication.
To his surprise it wasn't the dark-skinned boy who answered, but Malfoy. "It's tradition for the whole house to go to the first breakfast of the school year together. Also, the first years don't know the way yet." The way he said it seemed casual, but Harry didn't miss the small sneer and the underlying insult that Gryffindor didn't have such traditions.
Harry just nodded, leaned back in his chair, feeling satisfied when Malfoy looked put out that he hadn't risen to the bait. Had it always been that easy to read him?
"So... what do you think of the Slytherin common room and dorms?" Zabini enquired with a carefully neutral voice.
Harry snorted and nearly laughed out loud. The rest of the table sent him puzzled and marginally offended looks. "Sorry, but instead of trying to pry information out of me in order to figure out if... if Slytherin is better or something why not just ask me?"
And that definitely insulted them. Harry was sure he heard Nott mumble something about "bloody Gryffindors" and "no subtlety at all". He let their discomfort grow until they were fidgeting in their seats. How had he ever thought Slytherins were aloof and controlled?
"It's definitely different," Harry finally said, "Gryffindor tower doesn't have as much space compared to the dungeons, but it's warmer and cosier than it is here." He shrugged. "I don't think you can really compare them. They're too different."
Malfoy opened his mouth but a voice from the front cut in before he could even say one word.
"Good morning, everybody." The tall girl with the pixie cut stood in front of the door of the common room. "I am Zoë Fraser, seventh year, and Head Girl this year. I also want to welcome you all back to Hogwarts and our new housemates to Slytherin house. I know you are all eager to go to breakfast but let me say a few words."
She looked around shortly. "Professor Snape said everything there is to say yesterday. This is your home 'til you leave Hogwarts. We are all family now. It is unimportant what your ancestry is because we see you for your own worth. If you have any problems or questions you may come to me or the prefects." Upon those words several people, including Malfoy, stood up.
"Best come to us before you go to Professor Snape; he is not the easiest person to open up to." She smiled at them with a slight wink and Harry heard a few chuckles around the room. "Now, for the first breakfast of the year we will all go to the Great Hall together. To our first years, a prefect or myself will show you around the castle in the next few days. You will hopefully know your way around soon."
Harry couldn't see the younger years from where he sat, but he could picture their expressions. It had taken him a little longer than a week to really remember the way to the Great Hall and all the classrooms.
The Head Girl led the first years out of the common room and rest of Slytherin house trailed behind them. Harry tried to drag his feet and take up the back, but with an amused look Zabini had somehow managed to herd him to the middle of the gaggle. Harry tried to appear casual, but he could feel glances being thrown in his direction. They still seemed unsure of what to think about his re-sort. And really, Harry was just as unsure of them as they were of him; everything he had seen so far from the house of snakes confused him. It was completely different from what he had expected.
On the way to the Great Hall Harry tried to memorize the route. He'd mostly worked through that initial shock and his mind was now much more eager to pay attention to his surroundings. After four years at Hogwarts, he knew his way around and was relieved that he already knew most of the hallways they used. It wouldn't be too hard to find his way on his own.
When they reached the Great Hall Harry realized how much earlier than his normal breakfast time it was. Thanks to Ron, who generally needed more than one wake-up-call, Harry had almost always arrived quite late. It was only when Harry had gone alone or with Hermione that he had been early.
Despite the hour, the other three house tables were far from empty. At least half of Ravenclaw and a good part of Hufflepuff were already having breakfast, chatting happily. Over at the Gryffindor table only some of the older years were present, and to Harry's surprise two very familiar redheads were among them.
The twins looked up and winked at Harry when Slytherin house walked into the Great Hall. Nobody looked all that surprised that they all came in together. Snape already sat at the High Table and his gaze travelled over them, and then with a nod to the Head Girl he went back to the discussion he was having with Flitwick.
Harry mouthed a 'good morning' to Fred and George as he walked to their seats at Zabini's side. Eager for a good cup of tea after his too short night and the strange behaviour of the house of snakes.
He ignored everyone around him as he poured himself a cup with a little bit of milk and perhaps more sugar than was healthy. The first gulp was heaven and after he drained the cup completely and reached for the pot to prepare another, he registered that the surrounding Slytherins watched him with amused but also slightly disgusted expressions. Everyone but Crabbe and Goyle, at least; they were fixated on filling their plates.
"What?" His question brought them out of whatever stupor they'd been in and they began to pour themselves tea and filling their plates.
"Sweet tooth?" Zabini asked from his right side.
Harry looked down at his teacup where he had just dumped a third spoonful of sugar and shrugged. "Yeah. So what?" It wasn't like he had many sweets while growing up, so he savoured that he simply could put as much sugar into his tea as he wanted.
"Too much sugar is detrimental to your health," Greengrass said; it was the first time she'd addressed Harry directly. "It's true that our bodies need a lot of energy in order to perform magic adequately, but we are not immune to all of the problems a high-sugar diet can bring later in life, like high blood pressure. It's better to gain the necessary energy by eating carbohydrates instead of overly fatty or sweet food." She lectured from beside Zabini and Harry felt eerily reminded of Hermione, who, thanks to having dentists for parents, was slightly obsessed with teeth-care and therefore sugar intake.
He grabbed a bowl of porridge, topped it with nuts and fruits and a somewhat absurd amount of brown sugar. Greengrass narrowed her eyes at him, but Harry only grinned at her and savoured his first bite.
"So sue me. If one of the darkest wizards of our time couldn't kill me, I don't think I have to be afraid of sugar. I'm sure the mighty Dark Lord will kill me before sugar ever has a chance." He was prepared to be reprimanded for his slight mockery, but not for the reaction to his words.
Zabini's fork paused halfway to his mouth and he looked at Harry in shock, and Malfoy made a choking sound around his mouthful of eggs. Nott spluttered, and Parkinson and Greengrass looked at him with nearly identical expressions of horror. Davis and Bulstrode tried to hide the snorts escaping them before they gave up and grinned at him. Meanwhile, Crabbe and Goyle didn't react at all, occupied with the food in front of them.
Harry tried to suppress a laugh, but he snickered. "Merlin, your faces. What? Can't a guy make a joke anymore?"
Zabini slowly lowered his fork and frowned at him. "How can you joke about someone trying to kill you? About your own mortality?"
Harry shrugged. "When it happens every single year - sometimes more than once a year - you tend to get used to it," he said. "What should I do instead? Hide and tremble in fear? That wouldn't help any more than getting angry all the time." Not that he could change that… he paused, realizing that the anger that filled him during the entire summer was only a small flame at the back of his mind. It was still with him, but muted.
He took another bite, while the others composed themselves again. The gears seemed to be turning in their heads as they digested what he said.
"So, you've been in mortal danger more than once?" Davis asked, curious.
"Every year." They certainly looked intrigued at that. Harry didn't know exactly what compelled him to so - hadn't they heard the stories? - but he elaborated. "In first year, we had the troll in the bathroom, and then snake-face..." He ignored the choking sounds around him in response to his nickname for Voldemort. "... on the back of our Defence professor's head, and he tried to kill me. In second year, there was a rogue bludger that tried to kill me, a cheat for a Defence professor who tried to obliviate me and Ron. Then there was a teenage version of snake-face, plus his pet Basilisk, who both tried to kill me."
They all stared at him with wide eyes, and it appeared that his audience had grown as a few students sitting nearby tried and failed to appear that they weren't listening. Harry found this all quite amusing; for some reason, shocking Slytherins into speechlessness was really fun.
"In third year, there were Dementors that kept coming after me, an escaped convict who was supposedly trying to kill me, and let's not forget the best Defence Professor we've ever had, but forgot to take Wolfsbane one night and turned into a werewolf that tried to eat me." He shook his head sadly.
"In our fourth year, there was the Triwizard Tournament, which was full of things trying to kill me, and a demented ex-auror for a Defence Professor who was not what he seemed to be. And then there was the..." He trailed off; as amusing as it was, he didn't want to elaborate. Most of them knew what had happened in the graveyard, likely from sources that he didn't want to think about.
"This year's series already started with the Dementor trying to suck out my soul, and I have high hopes that our Defence Professor will carry on the tradition of every Defence professor trying to kill me. I've already got the feeling that she doesn't much like me." He snorted. "But if we use 'disliking me as a scale for the likelihood of someone trying to kill me, Professor Snape should have given it a shot the moment I stepped off the Hogwarts express in first year." He let his gaze drift up in the direction of the High Table. "But really - nobody who wears that much pink is up to anything good."
At his words all eyes followed his up to the High Table, where their new Defense Professor Dolores Umbridge was trying to engage their Head of House in conversation; a sickening, saccharine smile on her face. Harry absently wondered if she'd been in Slytherin herself.
"Well," Davis said in a dry tone, "if Professor Snape doesn't kill her, the curse on the post will at least ensure that she won't stay here longer than a year." They watched Snape's face project more than a hint of disgust as Umbridge tittered and smiled and continued her apparently uninteresting, dull talk.
Harry sighed. "Just my luck. He's gonna be completely irritated by the time I have my meeting with him."
"That doesn't matter," Bulstrode said quietly "You are a Slytherin now. He will treat you fairly."
"Not behind closed doors," Harry muttered, but kept his voice low so that no one heard him.
The rest of the breakfast had been surprisingly pleasant, and Harry could at least give his new housemates the credit for trying.
He had found that Davis and Bulstrode had a dry kind of humour he could see himself getting used to, and they at least seemed to be able to handle his own brand of gallows humour. Zabini seemed friendly enough. Nott didn't say much, but Harry caught him a few times with a small grin on his face, and he'd overheard a few snarky remarks the brown-haired boy tended to mutter under his breath. Harry was fairly sure that Nott was surprisingly witty and funny, at least in his head.
Greengrass was odd, lecturing about everything in a confusing cross between arrogant and caring. He didn't really know her, but he had the terrifying suspicion that behind her cold and haughty exterior was a mother-hen just as bad as Mrs. Weasley.
Malfoy, on the other hand, was completely confusing. Harry had been getting sneers and taunts from him for years, and he was used to being ridiculed and insulted. Malfoy was instead eerily neutral and even civil.
He remained tight-lipped without being rude. He listened to the conversations the others drug Harry into. Harry could practically feel Malfoy's gaze on him, and every time Harry had looked over at him, he found intense grey eyes and a calculating frown, like he was staring at a puzzle he wanted to solve but didn't have all the pieces to.
Malfoy's constant inspection threw Harry the most, but he wasn't the only one. There were others who still watched him when they thought his attention was elsewhere, expressions of appraisal and intrigue drawn across their faces
Harry always thought that the Ravenclaws were the ones obsessed with riddles and puzzles.
He supposed he could understand why they studied him; he'd suddenly been re-sorted to their house and had completely rattled their conceptions of him. However, the constant feeling of being observed exhausted him
Even so, his first breakfast as a snake could have been worse. He found Hermione at the lions' table afterward and they promised to meet in the library before lunch. He looked forward to finally getting to spend time with one of his best friends.
But first, he had to face the moment he'd truly been dreading.
He stood before the door to Professor Snape's office, trying to find the courage to knock.
AN: Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think.
Many thanks to vichan and Cameron Lindsey for helping to improve my grammar and spelling.
First published: 14th of January 2019
Last edited: 4th of February 2019