Disclaimer: Nothing in the Harry Potter universe is mine. I simply love to play with it.

AN: So, finally the next chapter. You are all so patient, thank you all for that. And thanks to everyone who followed, favoured and reviewed.

As always thanks to my marvellous betas vichan and Cameron Lindsey.

Sirius gave me some problems in this chapter.

I hope wherever you are, you are healthy and safe and take care of you and your loved ones.

Have fun reading.

On with the story.

Chapter 9: Sunday moods

On Sunday, Harry was again the first in the dorm to wake up, his heart racing from the lingering fear from a nightmare. He couldn't remember what the dream had been about, and the familiar terror was absent. Tea had appeared in the evening, hot and steaming beside his bed, and it seemed to help in a way - even if it hadn't kept the nightmares completely away.

He couldn't help but wonder how it would have been if he was in his bed in Gryffindor tower. Normally he slept like the dead in his four-poster bed surrounded by red and gold.

And while he'd had nightmares over the years - about Quirrell, the Basilisk, and Dementors - he had always felt safe in the dorm. He loved to sleep in whenever possible.

But now he didn't think it was just the Slytherin dorm.

All his previous adventures, if they could be called that, just didn't compare to what had happened in the graveyard. So Harry was wide awake – again – and breakfast was still hours away.

For a moment he listened to the sleeping sounds of the other boys in the room. He knew himself well enough to realise that he wouldn't fall back asleep, no matter how comfortable and warm the bed or how calming the quiet. It couldn't compare to the soothing atmosphere of his old room in the tower and the boys sleeping in the other beds were not Ron or Neville or Dean or Seamus.

Their noises were unfamiliar, and it made him uneasy.

So he got up and savoured the chance for a long, uninterrupted hot shower, knowing that none of his dorm mates would be awake for quite some time.

Afterward he took the book he had started the day before and settled into an armchair near a fireplace again. And similar to yesterday, the first person to enter the common room was the Head Girl, and she sent Harry a speculative look as he sat there with his book, a blanket, and a mug of hot chocolate.

As it was still early on Sunday, only a handful of people crossed the common room on their way to breakfast. Before Harry could decide if he should go alone, Zabini and Nott appeared. Zabini spotted Harry and led a rather sleepy-looking Nott over to him, giving him a speculative look. "Awake so early again?"

Harry shrugged. "Apparently."

It was clear that Zabini stopped himself from commenting further and after a jaw-splitting yawn, he asked, "Breakfast?"

"Sure." He looked shortly to Nott, who stood beside Zabini, dozing off while standing. Zabini only sighed, took Nott by the elbow, and led them to the nearly empty Great Hall.

Professor Sprout, the only one sitting at the teacher's table, was sipping on a cup of tea and looked entirely too awake and happy. A handful of students were at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff table, but not a single Gryffindor was in sight. At the Slytherin table, beside Harry and his two yearmates, only the Head Girl and a few upper years were present.

It was apparent that most of the students slept in, taking advantage of the weekend, and as he observed the crumpled look of Nott and the rather silent Zabini, he suspected that his dorm mates normally would have done the same. The huge yawn from Zabini and the half-closed eyes of Nott would make Harry question why they were already up, if he hadn't had a suspicion already.

He sat down and sighed when he saw the potion vial appearing beside his plate, and the pointed glance from the Head Girl made it clear that they had an eye on him, especially when her attention only left him after he gulped down the nutrition potion.

Harry could only hope that it would get better with time; he knew that at one point he would explode under all the scrutiny. Being watched made him feel nervous and it stirred the simmering pool of anger in him.

Why couldn't they leave him alone?

Sighing again, Harry prepared himself a cup of tea and watched his two housemates. He had never really paid attention to them this early in the morning.

Zabini was looking into his teacup with a bleary expression, while Nott dozed off and nearly fell face-first into his scrambled eggs. He was obviously not a morning person.

Harry briefly grinned at that. That was a side of the Slytherin boys he never had seen.

But it also made him realize that he still didn't know much of his new dorm mates.

Which ones among them shared their parents' views on purebloods and Voldemort? Too much had happened the day before for Harry to really have the time to start worrying and thinking about the situation. But now, with the novelty of his sorting gone, Harry's thoughts were chaotic.

Despite Zabini's reassurance that their political views didn't matter in their dorm, Harry couldn't prevent himself from worrying now.

He knew that beside Zabini, all the other boys had Death Eaters in their families.

When he closed his eyes, he could still see the graveyard and the appearance of those hooded and masked wizards. He could still hear Voldemort's cold, high voice. Harry was sure he would never forget the names of the people who stood by as he duelled that monster.

As he looked to the quiet, unassuming, brown-haired boy, Harry couldn't prevent a brief shiver. He didn't know if Nott was a common family name, and he couldn't be sure if the Death Eater he had encountered was the father or brother or uncle of the boy sitting in front of him.

At the same time, he wasn't even sure if it mattered.

He knew that at least the fathers of Crabbe, Goyle, and - not to forget - Malfoy had been there. They had stood by and watched as Voldemort had tried to kill a boy that was the same age as their sons.

Could he really live and interact with housemates coming from such families? Could he trust that high-praised Slytherin house mentality? Could he really forget who he was sharing a dorm with? Could he even give them the chance to show him that they were not their fathers? Did they even want to be anything different than their fathers?

He would be perfectly fine with being at the periphery of Slytherin house. He didn't need to make friends; he only needed to survive the next few years.

But based on their behaviour so far, he wasn't sure that they would let him merely exist at the outskirts of the house. Zabini seemed to be trying to befriend Harry and get him to see his peers in a different light.

Why? What was his goal? Was it just to include Harry into their house?

Did Harry even want that?

And why should he? Harry had been perfectly fine living across the castle from them and never needing to wonder if those boys were anything different than their fathers.

The anger, which never really left him these days, burned hot in his stomach.

Harry looked down at his still full plate, his hunger gone. Mindful of the eyes on him, he pushed the food around on his plate to give at least the illusion of eating.

The situation had still felt so unreal the previous day, but today Harry felt like he was floating and didn't know which way was up and which way was down. He had somehow felt as if he could handle it before, but now he wasn't so sure anymore.

His stomach clenched. Whether it was from hunger, anger, or uncertainty, he didn't know.

It was only the second day. Why couldn't he just let it be? Why couldn't he handle it like he did all the other strange and dangerous situations? Why couldn't he just shrug it off and move forward?

Yes, the graveyard had happened. Yes, the families of his new housemates played a role in what had happened. Yes, he was now a Slytherin.

And no, Harry was not okay with it. He was rather angry about it.

He was just so mad all the time; the constant feeling of wanting to rant and scream, or to hide and never be bothered by anyone again, didn't help him cope with everything that had happened.

Irritated at himself for not handling the situation how he should, at his own insecurity and fragility, Harry pushed his plate away and stood. Zabini and Nott looked up from their own plates.

"I'm going to the library."

Before anyone could respond, Harry walked out of the Great Hall and sighed in relief when the two didn't follow him.

Harry spent the rest of the morning in the Library with Hermione as company, and the normality of the situation helped to soothe his temper. They talked about everything and nothing after Hermione had shaken her head before Harry could even mention Ron.

He didn't bother asking.

They worked on finishing their last assignments, or in Hermione's case, checking her already completed and extra-long essays for mistakes. Hermione was surprised to hear that Davis – and then Zabini and Malfoy – had helped Harry with his Potions essay and had read over it with rising alarm.

She started to pull out reference books and began muttering things like, "It never would have occurred to me to think that way." Every once in a while, she even asked him to clarify something in his essay, and nobody was more surprised than Harry when he could.

He would never be really good in Potions but at least he understood more of the fundamental basics than he had before, all thanks to the people who had sabotaged his Potions effort more often than not in the last few years. The contradictions made his head hurt if he thought about them too much, so he pushed it from his mind.

Hermione grilled him over all the details in his essay and was only satisfied after he really could explain what he wrote, and in the end, she seemed genuinely impressed with him. But when Harry assured her that he wouldn't mind if she copied some stuff, she vehemently disagreed.

"If I simply copy, I will learn nothing."

It was familiar and soothing in a way.

At some point they were interrupted by Zabini and, surprisingly, Malfoy, and Harry realized that it was already lunch time. He didn't know what he should think about the fact that the Slytherins took their babysitting duties so seriously. He only hoped Malfoy hadn't told Zabini why exactly they came to get Harry. But judging by the way Zabini hadn't looked surprised when Harry's plate had filled by itself, the boy either had a perfect poker face, guessed what was going on, or the Slytherins were worse gossips than Lavender and the Patil twins.

By the complete lack of surprise on any of the Slytherins' faces, Harry guessed that he wasn't the first one to get prescribed meals.

He didn't want to think about what that actually meant.

Sighing, Harry ignored the conversations around him. He just wasn't in the mood to play nice, but he also didn't want to think about why he was so broody and angry.

He quickly glanced up to the Gryffindor table, but Ron was sitting with his back to him and hadn't even looked at him when Harry had walked into the Great Hall.

Yesterday he had felt so hopeful after Neville and the twins had talked to him.

But getting the cold shoulder from Ron along with not yet hearing from Sirius seemed to have drained that hope out of him.

An elbow brought him out of his brooding and Harry nearly jumped out of his seat.

"Sorry. Didn't think you were that far gone into your head," a sheepish looking Zabini said. "Are you finished? We are heading back to the common room. You still owe me a chess game." The dark-skinned boy smiled hopefully at him.

"I don't –"

"Oh, come on Potter. Do you have something better to do?" Greengrass interrupted him.

"I'm not finished –"

"I don't think that you will eat that anymore." The blond witch looked at his plate with a slightly disgusted expression.

Harry could only agree as he saw the mess he had created on his plate. It seemed he had mixed everything together, and now he wasn't even sure what had been on it. It certainly didn't look appetizing.

He ignored the frown from some of the prefects around him and got up, following Zabini down to the dungeons. He supposed a few rounds of losing in chess couldn't hurt.

Perhaps it would even improve the strange mood he was in.

To Harry's utter surprise Zabini was even worse than Harry was in chess. He couldn't believe it at first when he won the first game. The second he was putting on luck. By the fifth he accused Zabini of letting him win.

"Hey, I'm not that desperate to make you like me to lose in chess," Zabini cried out in indignation. "I'm a Slytherin, you know. House of ambition?" He set the game board again.

"And theoretically cunningness, but I'm horrified to see that Potter has more cunning in him than you, Blaise. He is a Slytherin for - what? – not even two whole days," Malfoy commented with a smirk sitting beside them in an armchair, reading. "You are an utter disgrace for our house, Blaise."

That made Zabini throw himself dramatically into the couch-cushion. "Do you hear that, Potter?" He gestured to Malfoy. "And he calls himself a friend. I think I'll replace him. So, Potter - I have a spot free for a friend. Are you interested?" Zabini looked at him with a hopeful expression.

But Harry couldn't muster a reply. He was completely dumbfounded by the situation, the conversation, and how much they let him see them relaxed and without their masks. Again, his world felt like it was upside down.

"I'm that easy to replace? I'm heartbroken," deadpanned Malfoy, not even looking up from his book.

Harry wasn't sure if he really needed to contribute to the conversation and instead decided to nibble on one of the small sandwiches, which had appeared sometime during their second game. The action also helped to hide a grin at Malfoy's remark. Who knew that he would one day find a Malfoy funny - and not in an antagonistic way?

He had to admit he rather liked the dry humour the blond was showing.

"You are heartbroken about what, Draco?" Davis appeared and let herself fall onto the coach beside Harry. "Checkmate in five moves," she said with a short glance at their game.

Zabini looked from her to the chessboard with a horrified expression. Harry also shifted his concentration back to the game, but – no, he didn't see the checkmate in five moves. He shrugged and made a move, and Davis frowned at him.

"Blaise wants to replace me with Potter," Malfoy informed Davis.

"Not a bad idea."

"What?" Malfoy looked genuinely shocked at that.

Harry coughed to hide the snicker trying to escape him, which got him a slight glare from Malfoy.

"You have enough self-preservation for an entire house of snakes, and that comes across as totally arrogant and selfish." Davis nudged Harry's finger aside as he reached for one of his pawns, gesturing to his rook instead.

"Potter here doesn't have any self-preservation, and he is too noble to throw his friends to the wolves." She gently patted his hand in consolation. "If I recall, he even wanted to share the win of the tournament with Diggory."

Before Harry could say anything to that, Davis pushed his hand away again. She quickly commanded one of his pawns for him, let Zabini take said pawn, and then had him move his queen.

"Checkmate." She grinned at Zabini, who looked at Davis with wide eyes and an almost childlike expression of hurt.

Harry was becoming more and more suspicious that Zabini was a complete drama queen and a softie. It wasn't a picture he would have connected with the cold and hard persona Zabini had shown throughout the years.

The way their personalities seemed to adjust to the environment gave him whiplash.

"I can't watch this. Come on, Tracey, set the board." Malfoy placed his book on the table and then smiled at Zabini and Harry. "Watch and learn."

Davis smirked at him and did as Malfoy told, and then Harry witnessed one of the most brutal and vicious chess games he had ever seen. Considering he had been an actual piece in McGonagall's giant chess game, that was saying something.

Malfoy seemed to think a hundred steps ahead. His moves were precise and he directed his figures efficiently. The blond played with a cold calculation, trying to trap Davis in ways Harry never would have seen. He still wouldn't have seen them if Davis hadn't played commentator for him and Zabini. Davis herself seemed to play with utter chaos, jumping across the board in no apparent patterns, dismantling Malfoy's traps and chess pieces, who in turn cursed her under his breath. Overall, despite the differing styles, they were evenly matched.

Harry watched with fascination and awe and knew Ron would love to play against one of them. He always complained that he didn't have enough good opponents. He needed to tell his friend.

Then he remembered that Ron wasn't talking to him. Instantly, his mood became gloomy again. Sighing, he leaned back and watched the game. He would give Ron the benefit of a doubt. He would give him time, because that's what friends would do. He would sit and not think about the way Ron's absence felt like a bleeding wound.

"Potter!" A call from the entrance of the common room made him jerk his head up. The Head Girl was looking around the common room for him.

"Yes?"

She walked over and handed him a parchment and a small package. "Post for you. I was at the owlery when your owl arrived. Beautiful bird, by the way." She smiled at him.

Harry looked stunned at the letter in his hand, addressed to him in familiar handwriting. Sirius! Sirius had answered him!

"Ah, yes… thank you." He looked up to Fraser, then back to his letter. He couldn't read it here in the Slytherin common room. "Excuse me."

He hurried to the dorm and settled on his bed, his hands shaking a little as they clutched the letter, placing the package aside.

Taking a deep breath, Harry opened the letter.

Harry

Don't I know how stubborn that blasted old hat is.

Open the package and use what it contains. Just call my name. Be sure to be alone.

Love

Snuffles

That was it? Harry turned the parchment to see if something was on the backside. But no… those few lines were all.

For a moment Harry wasn't sure how he should feel. Disappointed? Angry that Sirius couldn't even write a whole letter or at least a small reassurance? But then… it wasn't a rejection. And what did he mean with the package?

Setting the confusing letter aside, Harry picked up the package and opened it. It was a small mirror, wrapped in several layers for protection.

Confused, Harry stared into his own green eyes. Why would Sirius send him a mirror? His eyes fell on the letter again, then back to the mirror, then to the room around him. With a flick of his wand, Harry closed the curtains and activated his wards. Now nobody would hear what was going on inside. Taking a deep breath Harry stared at himself in the mirror once more.

"Sirius?" His voice came out hesitantly and when nothing happened Harry felt stupid. Sighing, his gaze fell on the note again.

"Sirius," he said again, a little louder.

Suddenly the face in his mirror wasn't his own anymore.

"Harry!" His godfather grinned at him. "You got the package!"

"Sirius? Is this really you?"

"Yes, it's really me." Sirius smiled gently. He looked good. Nothing physically had changed but he looked less sad as he had been when they said their goodbyes. There was a light in his eyes.

"Are you alone?" His eyes darted right and left, trying to see beyond the edges of the mirror.

"Yes, we are alone. Nobody can hear us." Harry answered and bit on his lip in worry. "What? How?" He wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to ask.

"That's a two-way mirror you are holding in your hands. Precisely, it's one of a pair of mirrors. They belonged to me and James, and the one you have in your hands used to be your father's." Sirius started to explain. "We used them for talking to each other during detention. With this we can talk whenever you like, without someone listening in, as long as you are alone."

Harry gulped. Sirius had thought of a way to ensure a way they could talk directly, and it made Harry feel warm inside. "Thank you."

"For what?" Sirius looked a little confused.

"For… for ensuring that we can talk. For… still being willing to talk to me." Harry didn't dare to look at Sirius at that moment.

"Oh, pup, of course I still want to talk to you. Yes, I was..." Sirius looked away for a moment. "...rather appalled when I heard that you were sorted into Slytherin and yes, Remus needed to interfere and beat some sense into me." Sirius looked a little sheepish at that. "But in the end, you are my godson."

Harry felt relieved hearing that but something made him pause. "What did you do that Lupin had to interfere?"

"Er… I was perhaps – possibly… maybe – considering coming to Hogwarts to have a word with the hat, Snape, and Dumbledore."

"Sirius!" Harry didn't even want to think what could have happened if Sirius had gone through with that. "You could have been seen; you could have been arrested!"

"I know, I know. But I'm not stupid. I wouldn't just walk into the castle. I would have come as Padfoot; nobody would have looked at a dog twice," Sirius grumbled. "I could still come if you need me." He looked slightly hopeful.

"No!" Harry protested vehemently. "No. Everything is fine. You don't have to come. To be able to talk with you like this is enough."

"But…"

"No 'but!'"

"You are still in Slytherin!"

Harry sighed. "Yes, I am. And it isn't as bad as I thought it would be - for now, anyway."

"But, Harry, it is Slytherin," Sirius cried out in protest. "And Snivellus is your Head of House."

Harry didn't need to see the horrified expression on his godfather's face - the disdain was audible.

"Yes, it is Slytherin and yes, Snape is my Head of house. But it really isn't that bad. Do you…" Biting his lip, Harry tried to find the right words. "Does it bother you that I'm not a Gryffindor anymore?"

He glimpsed at Sirius's face in the mirror and was a bit startled at the gentle expression he saw there.

"I don't want to lie to you. I was... shocked may be the right word - at first, and a bit disappointed."

Harry's breath caught.

"But not at you, Harry…" Harry wasn't sure what Sirius saw in his expression, but he smiled at him. "Never at you. I was disappointed because I loved being in Gryffindor and would wish that you would experience your whole school life there and yes, I couldn't comprehend that the son of James and Lily would be in..."

Sirius took a deep breath. "But Remus talked some sense into me. What you went through… that's bound to change you, just as Azkaban changed me. It will take a while for me to come to terms with everything, and not just my godson being a…. Slytherin."

He grimaced and his eyes looked haunted. "You know, Azkaban was not a nice place and sometimes I feel like I'm still there, and as Remus said – it's thanks to that place that I never really grew up." He took another breath. "You know that I ran away from my family when I was your age? I hated my family, and they were all Slytherins and as dark as you could get. That association is hard to overcome for me."

Sirius was silent for a moment and Harry waited, holding his breath. Would it come now? The rejection?

"But then I thought about Regulus, my little brother. He was this curious but silent child, always following me around when we were younger. But the older I got, the more I clashed with my parents, and Regulus… I think he fell into the role to appease our parents. Everything he did was so they could have at least one son they could be proud of - from their point of view, anyway. We grew apart during our time at Hogwarts. He was sorted into Slytherin, even became a Death Eater later, but he disappeared at some point. I don't know what happened to him."

Sirius's expression was closed off. "But I loved my little brother - still love him. Yes, he became cold and aloof during his years in Slytherin, but he wasn't evil. He just… tried to make our parents happy. But he was never vicious, even if he was in Slytherin."

They were silent for a moment.

"It will take me time to get used to you not being in Gryffindor and get over my aversion to Slytherin. But I think I'll manage, and if not, Remus and Andromeda will certainly force some sense into me." Sirius grinned at him.

"Andromeda?" Harry wasn't sure if he had ever heard that name.

Sirius's eyes went huge. "Oh, right, I haven't told you about Dromeda. Andromeda Tonks is my favourite cousin; I think you met her daughter, Nymphadora Tonks, this summer. She is a Black by birth but married a Muggleborn. She was disowned for that and blown right off of the family tree. She was and is a true Slytherin – her words." Sirius barked out a laugh.

"But she isn't wrong. Dromeda is very cunning and can be vicious – never try to bet against her, believe me. And she is very determined, as shown by her pursuit of Ted – her husband - against the wishes and orders of her family. She is also brave, and I think she would have made a fine Gryffindor - but never tell her that." Sirius smiled at him. "I think you would like her. After I came over the shock of you sorting and began ranting about evil Slytherins and going to Hogwarts to have a word with Dumbledore, Tonks fire-called her mother, who gave me a stern talking-to. She told me that if you have problems understanding Slytherin, just write her."

"So, you don't…" Harry hesitated.

"It's okay, really. It will take a little more time till I'm actually okay with it, but I need to realize that you are not James - something Remus reminded me of." Sirius looked a little guilty. "That's actually really hard for me - separating James and you. But you getting sorted into another house than Gryffindor was somehow the wakeup-call I seemed to need." He sighed and continued. "I also understand that it's really hard arguing with the sorting hat. I know this because I did during my own sorting. That dratted thing wanted to put me in Slytherin, because apparently the wish to be totally different from my family is very ambitious."

Chuckling, Sirius continued. "Nearly couldn't convince it that I would rather run away than be in Slytherin, which it finally took as a sign of great bravery and sent me to Gryffindor. So, no, Harry - if the house of the resourceful and determined is the place you should be, then it is so. And as long as you don't have problems with it…" He looked at Harry with a concerned expression.

Harry took a breath. "Well… so far it's okay and nothing happened. They are rather neutral and my yearmates are trying to integrate me… but classes haven't even started, so I'm not sure how it's actually gonna go and their families…" He trailed off.

"Listen to me, Harry." Sirius's expression darkened. "If anybody - and I mean anybody - tries to do something, go to Snape."

Harry stared at him in shock.

"I may not like him, but he is your Head of House and he is in the Order. Most importantly, he knows the ins and outs of his house. I don't trust him, but Dumbledore does, and that needs to be enough for now. So, if anything happens, go to him. And if you can't, go to McGonagall. You're not one of hers anymore, but I'm sure she is still willing to listen and help. And call me. I will have the mirror with me the whole time. Call me whenever you need me, okay?" Sirius's tone was insistent.

Harry couldn't speak, but he nodded. It meant a lot to him - that Sirius didn't just give him a well-meaning lie that he had no problem with it, but instead had actually explained himself. Not only that, but that he could call him whenever he needed him, and that he would have someone besides his friends he could turn to…

He took a breath. "Thank you."

Sirius's expression was soft. "Always pup."

They said their goodbyes and Harry sank back into his pillows, placing the mirror carefully aside. That had not been what he had expected. For several moments he fought with his emotions.

Perhaps he actually could do this. But his stomach clenched at the thought of the following day. The next day was when classes would start, and he wouldn't be able to avoid students from the other houses as he'd been doing.

It made him nervous. In the morning, life as a Slytherin would start for real.

His conversation with Sirius still rolled around in his head, and determination filled Harry. He hadn't thought that Sirius would be so supportive. He could do this. He had managed when everybody thought he was the heir of Slytherin and when they thought he cheated his way into the tournament.

He could definitely handle three years as a Slytherin student.

AN: Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think.

First published: 5th of May 2020

Last edited: 18th of March 2021