Chapter Notes:

To the Guest who reviewed:

Yes, I see where you're coming from. Of course, that's not to say that everyone cannot get involved in the story. Then there's the fact that you've misunderstood because you've only read the first chapter and assumed - this story is not necessarily centred around this OC. It is centred around Severus and Harry, the OC is simply being used as a gateway to the Hetalia universe. If it so happens that you've actually gone along and continued reading to this point, I hope this gives you some insight.

Also, if this story isn't your cup of tea, why generalize everyone else's taste in stories based on your own opinion? Everyone likes different things.

(I do not intend to respond to all reviews, I just felt like I had to explain it to this person.)

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So in this chapter we skip to Monday where Harry gets his first taste at what his classes will be like. I (due to a bit of laziness, ngl) have decided that his class schedule will be a bit different from the original source material.

I will state this now to avoid confusion. I am not sure if this is the same as in canon - but Slytherins will have both Potions, Transfiguration, and Flying Class with the Gryffindors. Herbology and History of Magic with the Ravenclaws, and of course - Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy, and charms with the Hufflepuffs.

Remember, this is a fanfiction, I am loosely using canon-verse as a guide but not everything shall be the same.

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Monday started off well enough for Harry. No one had bothered him, all in favour of preparing for the classes that would start that day. Despite this, Harry was anxious. What if he made a bad impression on the professors? What if they already hated him? Had his aunt and uncle warned them about his freakishness before term even started? Harry dreaded the moment when he'd have to enter a classroom.

His stomach clenched as he attempted to force down food at Draco's prompting. His friend had taken to watching him like a hawk at meal times - claiming that Harry wouldn't eat properly if he didn't. Harry couldn't deny his friend's assessment of him, because for the most part it was true.

It wasn't like Harry didn't like eating, he was just scared to without being ordered to. The last time he had taken food on his own accord he had earned himself a thrashing from both his uncle and cousin. It was because of that that he had spent his fourth birthday bleeding out in his cupboard, struggling to remain conscious in case his uncle came back to hurt him more.

After that he had never tried to be selfish again. A freak didn't deserve to want things, nor did a freak deserve to eat pleasant food that wasn't a moldy sandwich from the back of the fridge. That sandwich had been the largest meal he had ever had, he recalled.

"When do you think we'll have potions? I can't wait to show Snape that I'm not incompetent!" Draco exclaimed, happily biting into a piece of honey covered toast. Harry's stomach twisted at the thought of having to face the potions master again. Surely the man would be disappointed by his stupidity, would probably give him detention for it too. Speaking of detention - Snape had assigned his detention to be that night.

"Come on Draco, Snape hates everyone - he'll despise you just as much as he does everyone else!" Spouted a second year in a scolding tone - obviously feeling high and mighty because they were a year ahead of the blond. Harry decided that adding his opinion would be pointless, it wasn't like anyone would want to listen to what he thought anyway - not that he had much of an opinion to give.

Ten minutes before breakfast ended, Snape started handing out the schedules. The man had made sure Harry was the last to receive his, making certain that the boy would be late for class. Said boy eyed his schedule with despair.

There was no way he'd be able to get to Transfiguration in such a short amount of time! Surely his Head of House would understand that - but no! Snape just had to hate him. Despite his frustration he did not cry, did not panic. Professor McGonagall would just have to deal with his tardiness, it wasn't like it was his fault Snape saved him for last!

Luckily, Draco had waited for him outside of the Great Hall - schedule clutched in his hands as he waited for his dark haired friend anxiously. Draco had heard about how strict McGonagall could be when it came to being late, his father had advised him to beware the woman's wrath.

The two first years bolted up several staircases until they reached the correct classroom. They were ten minutes late due to Harry running out of stamina going up one of the staircases. The minute they opened the door to the classroom eyes fell upon them.

Standing in the front of the room was the strict professor herself - eyebrows creased and a frown embedded onto her face. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy - I see you've decided to join us," The annoyance in her voice was clear as the sunny sky outside.

Harry stared down at his feet, mumbling apologies like his life depended on it. He didn't want to get punished for something he couldn't have prevented. It was bad enough that he had detention later that night - he didn't need another one on top of that! "Didn't have enough time to get here, Ma'am. 'm sorry," Was the apology McGonagall picked up on.

Motioning to two empty seats, the two being across the room from one another, the professor sighed. "I'll let it slide just this once, now take a seat so I we can move on with the lesson." Harry reluctantly took the seat closest to him - unfortunately, he ended up next to the redhead that had taken to glaring at him whenever they crossed paths.

Deciding that it would be best to introduce himself properly, Harry turned his head to look at the scowling boy. "I'm Harry, and you are?" The redhead glared at him arrogantly but opened his mouth to respond regardless.

"Ron Weasley," The boy introduced himself in a snotty tone, eyes narrowing at Harry. The boy's lips curved into a nasty sneer - which was nothing compared to Snape's, Harry concluded. "Now, what's a slimy snake like you, doing talking to me? Been here for only a few days and you're already whoring yourself around?"

Harry froze as the boy's vulgar, inappropriate words echoed inside his skull. Whoring himself around? Pinprick tears appeared in his eyes as he held in a whimper. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ron smirk - a cruel glint in his eyes.

"What's wrong, Potter?" The Weasley chuckled in amusement, "Did I hurt ickle Potty's feelings?" It was at this moment that McGonagall approached their table, a deep frown set on her aged face.

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Minerva McGonagall was known as a strict, sometimes hard-headed woman. Many have complained that she only saw what she wanted to see, but that simply wasn't true - at least in her own opinion. She valued her students' well-being over all else - even if the children got into more mischief than she'd like them to.

Minerva hadn't been happy when Harry Potter was sorted into the snake's den - she had thought that the hat had made a mistake - that someone had confundled it. Albus had agreed with her, sharing her worries. The Board of Governors would not allow a resort so early into the year so Albus had assured her that he'd find someone who would be willing to pull some strings.

When the aged man had returned unsuccessful, Minerva had promised herself that she wouldn't worry about it too much. Harry was now Severus' concern, not hers. She had her precious lions to focus on - not some troublesome Slytherin boy. She could only hope that Lily wouldn't start haunting her from casting her son aside.

The animagus was more than annoyed when the small boy appeared in her class late with Malfoy Jr. in tow. The boy was already causing trouble! A lot like James she had mused after she had calmed down. She had pushed all thoughts she had about he boy aside and began instructing her class, barely catching the look of hurt on Harry's face and the small tears that had formed.

She had frowned after making sure that what she saw wasn't a trick of the light, that she wasn't seeing things. What was the boy so upset about? He had only been sitting there for a few minutes - surely he didn't work himself up to gain sympathy? Then, as she drew nearer, she heard Ron Weasley mock the small boy. "Did I hurt ickle Potty's feelings?"

"And what do you think you are doing, Mr. Weasley, tormenting one of your classmates?" Minerva didn't know what was said to Harry to make him so upset as to cry, but knew that if it hurt the boy that much it had to be bad enough to dish out a punishment. Lily's spirit would never forgive her if she let her precious son suffer when it could be prevented.

"I'm not tormenting him, Professor! Honest! He's just being sensitive because he didn't understand a joke!" Minerva raised an eyebrow, catching on to the obvious lie with practised ease. "Right, Potter?" Harry shook his head negatively, but didn't speak. Well, Minerva thought to herself, at least the boy wasn't stupid enough to go along with the Weasley boy.

"Detention, Mr. Weasley. Mr. Potter, switch seats with Mr. Finnigan," She nodded to herself subtly, coming to the conclusion that the boy would get along better with Miss Granger. Perhaps the two would become friends which would prevent the boy from making many allies among the Slytherins. Yes, that was a brilliant idea.

The rest of the class went quite smoothly in Minerva's opinion. Despite her hopes, Harry and Hermione hadn't spoken to one another once but hopefully that would change with time. Yes, she would have to make a seating plan - that way the two would be forced to work together.

Alright, she admitted to herself, maybe she was going a bit too far. The boy could make friends with whoever he wanted - and if he was anything like his mother, he would not take well to be forced into a friendship by his professors. Even James had been like that, well, before he got his stuff together and matured enough in order to woo Lily. That thought brought a fond, barely noticeable smile to her face.

She could only imagine what the two Gryffindors would think of their precious son being a Slytherin - being sorted into the house of all things evil. James was probably rolling in his grave right now, and Lily? Well, she could only conclude that the spitfire of a woman would be happy as long as her son was happy.

Before Minerva knew it she was dismissing her class and going over her lesson plan for her sixth year Ravenclaws. Her mind kept drifting back to the small boy that was Harry and couldn't help but to realize that perhaps he was a bit too small. Perhaps it would do well to express her concerns to Severus, maybe get him to look into the matter.

Two knocks brought the animagus out of her thoughts. Standing in the doorway was Albus, sporting his usual and eccentric purple robes. Minerva welcomed him in, offering the man tea and biscuits.

"I know you have a class to teach and that they'll be here any minute now, but there is some urgent news I must discuss with you." Minerva noticed how the twinkle in the elder's eyes dimmed noticeably. Deciding that the information was more important than her class, she nodded solemnly.

"Of course, Albus. Allow me to floo Tempest and get her to take over my class." Minerva recalled how her colleague had mentioned an off period where she had no classes to teach. With the approval of Albus, Minerva hastily flood Tempest and explained what she wanted gone over in her absence.

Tempest didn't seem very pleased about her break being interrupted but did not voice her annoyance. At least she hadn't argued like she would have any other day, Minerva mused to herself as said woman stepped through the fireplace and cleaned her robes with a slight twitch of her finger.

"And remember! Keep an eye on the Weasley twins! They're trouble when left to their own devices!" With that Minerva stepped out of the classroom and joined Albus in her office. "Now, Albus, whatever seems to be the trouble?"

Albus released a sigh, straightening his posture to appear more polite. "I must admit that I do not feel that Mr. Potter belongs in Slytherin. I wish to petition for a resort but… it appears Tempest is against the idea." The man took a sip from his tea, eyes glancing around the room. "Without Tempest's influence, I fear that the petition won't go through."

Minerva nodded, admitting to herself that Tempest's position in the ministry would have guaranteed the boy's resorting. With her against it the likelihood of it being approved was next to nothing. The woman seemed too powerful at times, especially when she had Minister Fudge tightly wrapped around her finger.

"Perhaps you could convince her that it would be in the boy's best interest? The boy would be safer in Gryffindor - Slytherin is packed with the children of Death Eaters, and we can't afford to put the boy in anymore danger."

Before she could respond, a sharp voice cut through the middle of their conversation. "Oh yes, because Slytherins are the root of all evil." Tempest's words dripped with sarcasm, much like how poison would drip from a snake's fangs. "I do not appreciate the fact that you refuse to respect my view on this nonsense you call an issue,"

"I thought Minerva had just floo called you to fill in for her class this period? What made you stop by so suddenly?" Albus questioned making the woman in question scoff as if it were obvious.

"I heard my name come from your mouth. I wanted to ensure that you weren't planning anymore of your schemes," Albus didn't look impressed with this explanation but Tempest didn't seem to want to go into more detail.

Minerva eyed her colleague carefully, noticing the way the woman seemed to carry herself. Strong, elegant and poised - the perfect image of a Pureblood in all of her superior glory. The woman commanded respect with her mere presence alone and to have her against you - well, Minerva didn't want to think about the consequences of such a thing.

With this in mind, Minerva poured Tempest a cup of tea before levitating it to the far end of the table. "Do have a seat, Tempest - perhaps this is a discussion we need to think about clearly." The blonde nodded respectfully, taking a seat on a comfortable chair. Her narrowed eyes returned to a passive state as she sipped her tea - even if it was scalding hot.

Minerva eyed the headmaster for a moment, noticing how his twinkling blue eyes darkened even more. The elder didn't seem to like that his scheme had been found out before it could even be carried out. Yes, the animagus was well aware of the fact that it was a scheme to make Tempest comply without causing backlash. Tempest had many connections and could have his reputation dragged through the mud and then some with practised ease. She had witnessed it herself once when she was a young student.

In a way, Tempest inspired Minerva. The graceful woman had ways of knowing what most others didn't, could calm someone with the slightest of touches. As overpowered as she was, Tempest was someone to look up to. Even Minerva with all her Gryffindor pride would follow the woman without question, of that she was certain.

"Tell me, Albus…" Tempest's velvety voice was like fine silk, woven with the utmost care and delicacy. "...Why is it that whenever I disagree with you, you try to convert me to your way of thinking? Surely you know by now that such tactics shall not be successful?"

Minerva watched as the woman's purple sapphire eyes darkened noticeably in contempt. She rarely paid much attention to the woman's dislike for the headmaster, she never really saw reason to. It wasn't like anyone was obligated to respect him - despite all of the man's incredible accomplishments.

In all honesty, she never did understand to blonde and why she did what she did and thought what she thought. No one did. Tempest was a mystery to everyone and no one dared to look into it. She was a personal favourite to the students, and without a doubt had most of the young, hormonal teens wrapped around her finger. She was kind to them, nothing like the woman the staff knew her to be.

'Just as manipulative as Albus can be,' Minerva couldn't stop herself from thinking. Before she could justify these thoughts, Albus responded. "You seem to misunderstand my intentions, my dear. I do not wish to control you or convert you– as you say. I simply wish to do what is best,"

"You mean what you think is best." Tempest corrected immediately, eyes narrowing at the man once more. "Don't think I don't know what you're up to, Dumbledore. I am not blind to your intentions. Good day to you, Minerva - perhaps I'll join you for tea sometime tomorrow?" After Minerva nodded her approval, Tempest swept out of the room as if she was never there.

Minerva's brows furrowed in confusion. "That was… abrupt. I can't say I understand the implications of her accusations. Have you done something, Headmaster?" Albus only shrugged before taking his leave, leaving a confused Minerva behind to contemplate Tempest's words.