The entire hall seemed to gasp collectively as Harry was sorted into Slytherin. He bit his lip, and looked up to McGonagall, who wore an odd expression. After a moment, applause broke out from the Slytherin table, and the rest followed.
The professor took the hat and Harry moved quickly over to the Slytherin table, where he slid into a seat next to Draco."
"Wow, I'm actually surprised," he said after Harry sat down.
"I think everyone is," Daphne agreed.
Harry kept his head down, wishing people would stop looking at him. He had no luck, though, as an older student leaned across the table to pat him on the shoulder.
"Hah! A Potter in Slytherin! Never thought I'd see the day."
Another student chimed in as well.
"Gryffindor must be fuming right now."
Everyone quieted down again as the next name was called, and it stayed that way until the sorting was over.
The last person called, Blaise Zabini, joined them in Slytherin, and sat across from Harry and Draco, next to Daphne.
The headmaster stood up from the head table to speak. He gave a brief speech, which included some odd nonsense words, and then suddenly the empty tables were magically filled with all sorts of foods and drinks.
"Wow!" Harry exclaimed, shocked by the sheer amount of food before him.
"Mm, not bad," Draco said.
They all began piling their plates with food. Though he was tempted to just take as much as he could, Harry made sure to look around at the others at the table to see how they were going about it.
Some were going all out, but most were partaking with poise, with an air of elegance. Biting his lip, he attempted to copy them somewhat, so as not to stand out.
The food was absolutely delicious - probably the best tasting food he'd ever eaten. Carefully and stealthily, he managed to sneak a bit of it (mainly bread and cheese, and some cured meats) into his robes to later put into a secret stash.
While they were eating, a myriad of ghosts appeared, flying over the tables. Harry nearly had a heart attack, though he quickly learned that this was a normal thing in the wizarding world, and (most of) the ghosts were actually rather friendly.
Harry listened, quietly, to the chatter around the table as they ate. Draco seemed to know just about every one of the other first year Slytherins. Harry got to experience the unpleasantness that was Pansy Parkinson first hand, as she whined about the temperature of her pumpkin juice and insulted Harry's messy hair. He ignored her, trying not to laugh as Daphne dramatically rolled her eyes when Pansy turned away to bother someone else.
Now that the attention on him had lessened, Harry carefully observed everyone around him. The older students seemed to congregate mostly at the far end of the tables, with the ends closest to the front of the hall filled with the first years. Harry let his eyes wander up to the head table, where the Headmaster sat front-and-center. Hagrid was among the teachers at the table, busy happily eating his dinner.
On the other side of the table, McGonagall sat, having a conversation with a rather short, animated man. Beside them was a dark, broody looking fellow with shiny black hair framing his face. He was the only one at the table not otherwise occupied, and as their eyes met, he seemed to glower at Harry.
Harry quickly looked away, heart pounding. He forced a dry chunk of bread down his throat to distract himself. He tuned in to the conversation Draco was loudly having.
"It's completely unfair, really. The headmaster of the school shouldn't favor any of the houses, especially not one so brash and boorish. You know, my father is on the board of directors…"
Harry sighed quietly to himself.
He wondered what Rose was doing, right then. Most likely cooking dinner for the Dursleys, based on the time. He felt a pang of guilt roll through him. While he was sitting there, with a seemingly endless feast before him, she was probably scrounging up whatever leftovers the Dursleys didn't want and saving them for later.
"Why the long face? Don't like the food?" A smooth, silky voice asked.
Looking up, he saw Blaise Zabini, twirling his fork between his fingers, a teasing look on his face.
"It's fine," Harry said, with a curt smile.
Zabini chuckled.
"So, Harry Potter's in Slytherin. I doubt anyone expected that," he mused.
"They'll get used to it," Harry muttered.
Zabini raised an eyebrow. "Hm, perhaps you're right. Best be careful, though. Not everyone here's very fond of the boy who defeated the Dark Lord, you know."
Harry looked up, ready to reply, but the other boy had already turned away to join another conversation.
Once everyone had eaten their fill, the feast was concluded. A Slytherin prefect named Bedelia Whitlock led them to their common room, which was down in the Dungeons. The stone-lined hall was dark, and cold, but after the prefect gave the password and they stepped into the common room, the air became warm, and cozy.
The common room was large, with grand columns of marble lifting high to the ceiling. There was a large fireplace, with various couches and plush seats strewn about, as well as tables and chairs. In the corners of the room were shelves lined with various books. At the far end of the room was a wall with giant windows that looked out into what appeared to be a lake – except, the windows were entirely underwater. The light from them cast rippling green shadows over everything in the room.
"Listen up, first years," the prefect called, bobbed hair swaying as she stepped out in front of them. "Welcome to Slytherin house. This is our common room – if you can't remember where the entrance is located, ask a prefect or an upper-year Slytherin. The password is 'Salazar'. It changes weekly. Do not forget it. Now, our head of house, Professor Snape, will kindly give a speech."
She gestured a hand towards the entrance, where a dark figure appeared to materialize from the shadows.
It was the same man from before, the one at the head table who had glared at him during the feast. Harry sucked in a sharp breath.
The man, Professor Snape, stepped forward, his black robes billowing with an un-felt breeze. He looked on them all with a stern, discerning frown. When he spoke, it was with a slow, calculating voice.
"Welcome to Slytherin House," Snape said in a cold, emotionless voice. "You have been chosen for your ambition, cunning, and resourcefulness. These are traits that will serve you well in your time at Hogwarts. But be warned - we do not tolerate disobedience or failure. If you are caught breaking school rules, you will be expelled."
Harry swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in his throat.
"As members of Slytherin House, you will be expected to uphold the highest standards of behavior," Snape said, his voice cold and sharp. "You will be treated unfairly by many of your peers, as there is a longstanding bias against Slytherin in this school. It is imperative that you stick together and support one another.
"Anything that happens in this common room, stays in this common room. No students from other houses are permitted here, and anyone caught giving out the password will face severe consequences.
"Curfew is at ten o'clock sharp. If you have any further questions, you may ask one of the prefects. Do I make myself clear?"
The first years nodded obediently, fear etched on their faces. Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over him.
"Good," Snape said, a hint of a sneer creeping into his voice. "Then you are dismissed. Remember, it is not just your own success that is at stake - it is the reputation of Slytherin House. Do not disappoint me."
With that, he strode out the door in a flourish, leaving the first years speechless.
"Right, then," Bedelia called, breaking them out of their stupor. "Your rooms are down this hall here. Boys through the left, girls on the right. You'll find your class schedules on your desks."
Harry followed behind Draco and the other boys as they looked for their rooms. When he found it, he pushed open the heavy oak door to his dormitory. As he stepped inside, he was immediately struck by just how fancy it was.
The walls were paneled in dark, polished wood, and a plush green rug covered the floor. Four four-poster beds, each draped with dark-green velvet curtains, were arranged around the room. A small stonework fireplace, already lit, cast a warm glow over the space.
Harry walked over to his bed, running his hand over the soft fabric. He had never slept in a four-poster before, and he couldn't wait to crawl into it. His trunk was there, sitting at the foot of the bed, the same as the other three beds in the room.
"Hm, not bad. Nothing like home, of course, but I suppose it will do," Draco said arrogantly, inspecting the curtains of the bed next to Harry's.
It seemed they'd be sharing a room, along with Blaise Zabini, and a pale, frail-looking boy named Theodore Nott. Harry supposed that was fine. He'd have preferred a room to himself, of course, but it was better than sleeping in a cupboard, at least.
Harry went over to his desk, picking up the schedule that had been placed neatly on top of it. "First class tomorrow is potions, with Gryffindor," he read.
Blaise chuckled, bent over his trunk unpacking. "Fun for us, not for them," he said melodically.
"Why?" Harry asked, confused. Blaise snorted, and Draco rolled his eyes.
"Professor Snape teaches Potions, Harry. He's a potions master, in fact. And he hates Gryffindor." Draco explained, inspecting his cuticles.
"Oh," Harry said, not sure how to feel about his first class at Hogwarts being with that particular professor. "Um, is he always… well, is he always so-"
"Bat-like? Scary?" Blaise cut in. "Yes. Yes, he is."
"It's just how he is. You'll get used to it. He favors us Slytherins, though, so don't worry." Draco added.
Harry nodded slowly, before moving to unpack his things as well. When no one was looking, he took the food out of his pocket that he'd saved from dinner, and made a small pocket in the corner of his trunk to hide it in.
The four boys situated their things and settled in. Draco and Blaise went to the common room to play some game Harry had never heard of, and Theodore had already gotten into bed and closed his curtains for the night. Harry took the opportunity to pull out a pen and some parchment to write his sister a letter.
It took a few tries, as he kept spilling the ink and smudging his letters, but eventually he managed a somewhat readable script.
Dear Rose,
Hogwarts is AMAZING!
Hagrid was right. The school is this huge, ancient castle. Everything here is filled with magic - the ceiling of the great hall is spelled to look like the sky, there are boats that row themselves, and - oh, right, there are even ghosts! I saw them at dinner.
Which reminds me, dinner was an actual feast! I don't think I've ever seen so much food in my life. I saved some for later. I made a little spot in my school trunk for it. I'd have sent you some, but I'm not sure what owls can or can't carry. I'll have to ask someone about it later.
I made a friend today. I met him on the train, and we ended up in the same house - Slytherin. He's... interesting. His name is Draco Malfoy, and he grew up in a wizarding household, so he's used to all this already.
I'm a bit jealous. He does seem a bit stuck-up, prudish maybe. But he also seems to be higher class, and he's popular with our other housemates, so I'm not going to do anything to get on his bad side. I wonder what you'd think of him.
So, after the train ride and when we got to the great hall, all of us first years were sorted by a magical hat into our school houses. I'm still not entirely sure what they all represent, but I can tell you what I do know, at least.
There are four houses here at Hogwarts - Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. I was sorted into Slytherin. I asked the hat to put me somewhere where I'd fit best, and that's where it put me. It said something about Slytherin being for those who are ambitious and cunning.
Gryffindor is for those who are brave, though Draco says they're all brawns and no brains.
Hufflepuff is about loyalty, and Ravenclaw is about knowledge.
I wonder which one you'll be sorted into? Slytherin isn't too bad, so far. Though, a lot of people seemed surprised I was sorted there at the ceremony.
Our head of house is a man named Professor Snape - he's very brooding looking. He's a bit scary, to be honest. I'm not sure why, but I get this feeling that he doesn't like me.
Draco says that's just his personality, but that he favors us Slytherins, so there isn't anything to worry about. I don't know... I suppose I'll just have to wait and see how class goes with him. Draco says he teaches potions.
Anyways, all is well here. I hope you are also doing alright.
Don't forget to reply, and make sure to let me know if the Dursleys are treating you wrong in any way.
I miss you.
Love, Harry
As he finished writing, Draco walked back into the room.
"Who are you writing? I thought you lived with muggles," he asked, spitting the last word.
Harry carefully folded the letter, and tied it shut with a piece of twine. "It's for my sister," he said.
"I didn't know you had a sister."
Harry shrugged.
"She's a year younger than me. You'll meet her next year."
Harry went to open Hedwig's cage, but just then realized neither her nor her cage were in the room with his other things.
"Oh, um," he turned to Draco, "do you know where the owls are?"
Draco nodded curtly. "Of course. They're in the owlery. We can go together in the morning, I have a letter to drop off for my mother and father as well."
"Thanks, Draco."
Harry tucked the letter into his potions book, and prepared himself for bed.
The bed was the comfiest thing he'd ever laid on – he had trouble believing it was really for him. Drawing his curtains, he was able to find comfort in the small, dark space. He breathed in deeply, trying to relax. He was worried for tomorrow, and worried about Rose. He was just… well, worried, in general.
But, somewhere beneath all that worry, there was happiness. Hogwarts was unfamiliar, sure, but something about it just seemed right. That feeling inside him that had always made him different, wrong – here, it felt as if it was just another part of the whole.
My magic, he thought to himself.
He thumbed his thunder cloud pendant, feeling the soft warmth and vibrations of its ever moving little lightning bolts. He listened as the other boys made their way into their beds as well, and eventually, when all was quiet and still, he let his eyes close, and drifted off to sleep.