A.N: this chapter will include direct lines and scenes from Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone.

I do not own Harry Potter.

—

Harry couldn't sleep a wink the night before the day of his entry to Hogwarts. He was actually going to Hogwarts! The same school his parents went to, the same school Dumbledore went to, the same school that his kind went to. Harry was going to a school to learn magic: he was going to where he belonged.

However, as a result of him not getting any sleep, once he did get some sleep at midnight, he woke up incredibly late the next day.

When he woke up, Harry took one look at the clock and he could feel his chest about to explode. Harry's heart went up a million in pace, and he could feel the dread enter his body as Harry started to panic.

It stated in McGonagall's letter that Hogwarts express left at 11 AM, which meant Harry had a very short thirty minutes to get to King's Cross, a drive which would normally take an hour at the very least.

It was the first step to his greatness and Harry already messed up.

Water started to fill Harry's eyes as he knelt on his knees, and for once in his life, Harry started to wholeheartedly cry.

Pathetic.

Suddenly, Harry felt disgusted with himself. Why was he crying for something as stupid as that? He was a wizard for Merlin's sake! Out of nowhere, an abrupt feeling of confidence invaded his consciousness as Harry somehow knew exactly what to do.

Harry could feel an uncomfortable, warping experience as he, along with his trunk, left St. Peter's orphanage with a noticeable crack.

When Harry looked around, he was surrounded by the busy traffic of muggles and wizards alike moving all around the station. He was completely ignored by the muggles, but some wizards and witches looked speculatively at him, and Harry noticed that his hat still seemed to serve its purpose.

His mind then wandered to the question: how had Harry done that? He had basically a rudimentary first year's knowledge of spells, and Harry's teleportation only led to two conclusions.

Either he was a magical prodigy and the next Albus Dumbledore destined to save the world, and create magical breakthroughs which would be thoroughly impossible for his age.

Or the voice in his head took control again, just like in the time with Malfoy.

Took you long enough.

Harry promptly took his trunk and left for the Hogwarts Express.

—

Harry could feel his head being split into two as he hurriedly found an empty compartment and sat. There seemed to be a recurring headache everytime The Voice took control of him, and Harry made it a deal that he wouldn't allow that to happen again.

After no time for contemplation, he fell unconscious.

—-

"Why are we in a trunk with a half-dead person inside?"

"It was the only empty trunk!"

"Yeah, but that git is in here too!"

"You know he—"

Harry groaned a bit as he woke up, and tried to not to sigh as he stretched his arms into the air.

He failed.

A foreign snort echoed through the compartment as Harry realized exactly where he was. Late, Teleportation, Hogwarts Express, blah blah blah.

Harry smoothed out his robes as he analyzed his audience; a blonde with deep blues eyes started right back at his emerald, and behind her stood another shorter blonde with a confident expression.

Was everyone in Hogwarts blond?

"Since your nap is now over, would you please leave this compartment?" The taller blonde asked with a notably impolite tone.

When Harry came to this compartment originally it was the only one which was empty, and most likely the other compartments would be full of students.

So Harry didn't want to leave.

"I came to this compartment first, so I should be asking whether you would leave." Harry remarked coolly.

The taller blonde looked outraged whereas the other girl just raised an eyebrow, and Harry merely just stared passively at it all.

"Come on Lucy, a mudblood isn't worth your time, let's go find your brother." said the shorter one.

The mudblood word again. What the hell did it even mean?

It's an insult towards wizards who are born from muggles.

The voice answered Harry's doubt with suppressed rage; the last time Malfoy called him a mudblood the voice simply took control and caused havoc. Good to know it had some restraint at least. It also seemed like Malfoy had a sister, which made the voice into saying something like 'annoying Lucius'.

Harry didn't care. He didn't care what others thought of him, as long as they didn't disrupt his progress. As the purebloods were leaving, the voice thought differently.

You are just going to let them say that to you? I knew it, you were always weak.

That spurred Harry into making a parting comment,

"Is Ms. Lucy going to her big, powerful brother? Make sure to tell Malfoy that I want to see his stupid, smirking face again."

The two girls looked back at him with shock, and Harry didn't blame them.

He was in shock too. The voice was influencing Harry too much to his liking.

But Harry wasn't going to back out now, he was actually annoyed from their use of the word mudblood, when they knew nothing.

'Lucy' looked furious as she quickly got her wand out and pointed it straight at Harry. The other girl started to look at 'Lucy' in worry, and one word came from the mouth of 'Lucy'.

"Stupefy!" The girl smiled wickedly as a red bolt of energy hit Harry straight in the chest.

Harry felt himself get pushed back into the seat harshly as unconsciousness overcame him.

Before he did fall asleep, he heard a lasting sentence.

"It's Lucina Malfoy. And if you know anything about my family, then understand not to cross me. Know your place, mudblood."

Then Harry's world became black for the second time that day.

—-

"Mr. Riddle, magic is all about intent. Focus your intent in your magic, as well as the correct wand movements and such, and your spellwork will be a simple thing."

"Then why isn't everyone as good as you Professor?"

"It's not a simple thing to have complete intent and focus on something, my boy. Our mind is a fickle thing, and our focus can easily drift away. Even a simple sway in focus can ruin the outcome of any spell."

"So what makes your magic different from an auror?"

"You underestimate the aurors, Tom. But alas, the imagination of a wizard greatly converts to their eventual potential. The aurors are trained to quickly and easily dispatch opponents, but wizards such as I are able to use a variety and vast amount of spells in often confusing, and effective ways. Quick thinking and creativity is an important thing in dueling, and the latter definitely isn't as prominent in the aurors."

"How do I get as strong as you?"

"Focus."

Harry woke with a startled gasp. Then memories of recent events sent Harry thinking.

He lost that fight—no, it wasn't a fight—it was merely a one sided massacre. He hasn't even got his wand up, and Lucy managed to send him sprawling with one spell. He was weak. The difference between him and purebloods was even greater than he expected.

Harry looked around at his environment, he wasn't out too long. If he had to catch up, he had a lot of work to do. Smoothing out his robes again, he went back to reading.

—-

Hogwarts was simply amazing. The castle itself screamed of magic, and the grand appearance it had only added to that. Even from afar, the castle looked majestic and worthy to be called the 'Greatest School of Magic in Europe'.

A tall, giant-looking man, who said his name was Hagrid, led them on small boats towards the castle. Harry could swear he saw something move in the lake underneath, but he let go of the idea.

He noticed that the blonde girl from earlier was with her brother, and sent her the strongest glare he could manage. She didn't notice.

Once Harry got inside, an old, strict looking woman with glasses guided them all to the Great Hall. Where presumably, they were supposed to get 'sorted'. Harry didn't understand what a 'sorting' was, but he wasn't here to complain.

Harry also noticed how amazing the great hall looked. It was heavily lit with hundreds of candles, giving it a welcoming, warm look. Four, long tables stood proudly in the middle of the hall, and the students on each table wore different looking robes.

But what was most impressive was the ceiling—well, actually, there was no ceiling. It looked completely empty, and only constellations and the moon shew brightly when one looked up.

It's actually charm-

"The ceiling is actually charmed to look like that. I read it in Hogwarts: A History." A bushy-haired brunette next to him exclaimed, equally in awe.

Harry didn't actually read the book, because he found it boring, but he guessed that kind of magic was definitely possible.

The Sorting is where they send you to different houses. You'll see how they do it soon enough.

'Thanks a lot', Harry said with a sardonic tone.

Your welcome.

Did Harry just have a conversation with the voice in his head? He didn't want to know.

All the first years gathered into a line, where the entirety of Hogwarts' population scrutinized them. Looking ahead, Harry could see a rusty hat sitting on a chair. Which meant that the hat had something to do with the sorting.

Professor McGonagall explained how the sorting would work, and then started to call out names.

Before the sorting however, a rugged voice started speaking very loudly. The Sorting Hat was somehow moving its mouth and began to sing a song:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

Applause rang around the entire hall as the hat finished its song, and Harry had to admit it was good for an animate hat.

"Abbot, Hannah!"

A short, nervous girl walked to the sorting hat and placed it on. She looked surprised for a second, before she started to talk as well. Harry couldn't hear what she was saying, but it seemed as if she was arguing with the hat.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Many other sortings occurred, and Harry noticed that the Gryffindors didn't applaud for the Slytherins and vice versa. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs looked merely in the middle.

"Daphne Greengrass!" The now identified short, blond girl walked confidently towards the hat…

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry would keep his eyes on her. As petty as it sounded, he wouldn't let go of the fact that she called him such a thing.

He noted that Draco Malfoy also sorted into Slytherin, where he immediately had a group of friends surrounding him. The Malfoys were an influential family, and Harry could tell that he would have a 'gang' with him at all times due to his family's influence.

"Lucina Malfoy!"

The hall went quiet, clearly interested to see where the female Malfoy would go.

"Slytherin!"

She then went as far away from Draco as possible. Harry couldn't resist raising an eyebrow. Family issues?

"Harry Potter!"

Harry rose and went straight towards the stool. Meanwhile, the entire great hall went into shock.

"Harry Potter?"

"The Boy-Who-Lived is in my year?"

"He will definitely be in Gryffindor!"

With a quick turn, Harry looked to where the Malfoys were, and Draco Malfoy looked uncaring whereas Lucy looked shocked. Being famous really had its advantages at times.

Murmurs upon murmurs filled Harry's head until he finally—with an annoyed expression—put the hat on.

The Potter, finally, I was wondering when you would come really.

Harry froze. That wasn't the voice, that was the hat inside his head.

Harry tried to respond, he really did. But the problem was, he didn't know how to. The hat was clearly waiting for a response; Harry tried to do the same thing he did when talking to the voice previously, but he couldn't project his thoughts at all.

But then, someone else spoke for him.

'Hello?' Said the Voice.

'Ahh, finally, Mr. Potter! Let's see what we have here, a quiet personality, loves books, and not really the outgoing type. Gryffindor wouldn't do good for you! Hufflepuff doesn't seem to be valid as you don't hold many loyalties. The best option would have to be Ravenclaw or Slytherin. You hold many ambitions to be a great wizard, but your thirst for knowledge is also very commendable.'

Harry wanted to say he wanted to be in Ravenclaw, because, truthfully, he really did. He could relate to the people in there, they were like him. Everyone he met so far were all in Slytherin, and Harry didn't really want to go there. However, he couldn't speak. Nothing he thought managed to get to the hat, and once again, the Voice spoke for him.

'Uhh, I would prefer Slytherin.'

'No. No. No.' Harry thought as despair went to his head.

'Fine, then it had to be—

"SLYTHERIN!"

Horror filled Harry's entire body as the entire hall went quiet. Harry couldn't move, his entire life has been chosen not by him, but the Voice who most certainly was not at all Harry.

Sorry. But you'll understand why later. Do I have to take control again?

Harry didn't respond, and merely sat slack-jawed—

The Boy-Who-Lived stood up and went to the Slytherin Table with a confident gait in his legs. He sat at a seat right next to Lucina Malfoy and Daphne Greengrass, and looked at the table where Dumbledore sat and gave him a wink. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and a smile also came on his wrinkled face.

However, if one looked through Harry's messy hair, and his thick glasses, they would find that he wasn't Harry Potter.

Harry Potter's eyes were flashing red.

—

Author's Note:

Harry does go to Slytherin, but I bet you didn't expect why.

What happened will be explained further on, but Harry for now will just view it as an interference from Tom.

Lucina Malfoy. Like her? Hate her? Tell me in the review section please!

Yes, whenever Tom takes over Harry his eyes will flash red, but it's not as noticeable if you don't look directly into his eyes.

Next chapter will include more interactions and will not be as long. It will be an exposition for the next chapter after that which will try to wrap up most of 1st year as I find this year incredibly boring.

Before you argue, no, Harry won't be a one trick pony with Tom in his head, he will also get strong individually, and Tom is just a way for him to balance him with other purebloods. 11 years in the wizarding world before Harry even knew about magic would obviously give them a head start , so Harry has Voldemort in his head. Fair enough?

As always, hope you enjoy, and please review!

Next Chapter: Introductions