Author's Note: I am not certain if you feel I should have made this longer or not. Regardless, I thought I would share all that I have finished (before I sleep).
The First Year (Part One):
- One -
The Sorting Hat fell over his head, obscuring his vision; resting gracelessly as it did so. He tried to hide the undeniable sense of shock he felt when he heard a voice that was not his own in his mind:
'Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting... So where shall I put you?
Harry could not be certain if this question was rhetorical or not, but a small part of his subconscious still replied, 'Slytherin'.
The hat (as Harry now realised this was who he could hear) replied calmly, 'That is not as expected... I imagine someone will be surprised'. The hat seemed to be laughing at this before cutting itself off, 'Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness'.
The hat seemed to pause, then it called aloud, "SLYTHERIN".
There were audible gasps from all over the room, but these were swiftly drowned out by the rapturous roar of the Slytherin table.
Harry walked slowly and allowed himself to separate from the judgemental stares of his peers. He was more focused on someone; he knew exactly whom the person the Sorting Hat had been referring to was: Dumbledore. His kind blue eyes had momentarily widened in shock, and though no one had noticed ('no doubt too absorbed in their own surprise', Harry assumed) Dumbledore's - seemingly - innocent surprise had not escaped Harry.
Finally seated, Harry fought furiously to stifle his own laughter. Draco Malfoy was pleased, he knew so much, yet he still held the pretence of paying no attention; his face was unmistakably masking the grin he had held moments before.
- Two -
'The dormitory is interesting, to say the least', Harry thought, as he lay awake in bed.
His dorm-mates were all asleep (all five of them) and Harry couldn't help but feel more alone than ever, regardless of the number of people he surrounded himself with. It was strange to think that, before recently, he had never been considered as anything other than filth, yet the people around him idolised his existence for something he didn't know about - until a few weeks ago.
He understood quickly that Crabbe and Goyle were nothing more than mindless muscle, who would follow whoever was the most powerful. 'Like parasites', thought Harry with disgust. Right now, that person seemed to be Draco - 'no, Malfoy', Harry mentally corrected himself, 'but even Malfoy seems rather indifferent'.
He gave little more than glance to Zabini and Nott, as he knew little of them. However, he made a mental note to learn more: to decide if they were worth his time. All he knew was that Zabini seemed secretive and Nott seemed disinterested. Neither of these were good signs.
Harry turned his attention to Malfoy, again. He knew that Malfoy was his most likely friend. He knew that Malfoy's parents favoured him (most likely for his fame) and would encourage Malfoy to befriend him. Yet he also knew that Malfoy was too prideful to admit such a thing. Even now, he was still feigning a dislike of Harry, 'no doubt playing hard to get'.
Harry sighed wistfully as he resigned himself to sleep.
- Three -
The way the water in the lakes lashed against the window mesmerised Harry: he felt oddly safe in the dull darkness lurking around him. However, he could not rest. There was still a matter pressing on his mind, 'how should I present myself?'.
Snape's warning hung heavily over him as he thought clearly, 'I can risk being singled out no longer. I must protect myself from Dumbledore's invasive influences'. The fact that Dumbledore had allowed him to be abused, just to make him easier to manipulate, made the bile in Harry's throat rise. He could not help but wonder what Snape hoped to gain in telling him such things, however.
'Charm or fear, can I strike such a balance in myself?', Harry hissed to Ouroboros. He had no intention of speaking to her publicly, but he enjoyed the moment he had alone with her - knowing it may be a rarity.
Sleep finally struck, when he expected it least, and his guard was finally lowered. For now.
- Four -
"Ha ha, mate", laughed the boy harshly, "who would have thought it?". He held his head high and checked to see if he had an audience, he did. "The boy who lived cannot even protect himself!".
Harry clenched his teeth and resisted the urge to bite the foul boy's face clean off. He never realised how difficult such restraint would be. "But Dumbledore cannot use you if you are useless", echoed Ouroboros' wisdom in his mind.
"Get your hands off of Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, you filthy blood traitor!", screamed Draco as he pointed his wand at Weasley's throat. Crabbe and Goyle followed suit, but instead opting to use their brute strength against Weasley, grabbed his arms and pulled, grinning as they did so.
Harry saw this opportunity to swiftly kick Weasley's gangly legs from under him. The Slytherins cheered at this and stepped in, shielding Harry from the furious Gryffindor.
"That is enough!", shouted Professor McGonagall as she shot herself down the stairs, "What is the meaning of this?!".
Weasley began to shout about the unfairness of 'Slytherins insulting him' and how he was 'outnumbered' and 'self-defense'. Harry resisted the urge to laugh.
McGonagall gave Harry a scornful look: she was expecting answers. Harry thought of his most painful memories and allowed the tears to well up, "I... I was j... just walking and... and he attacked me!". Harry waited. He felt the first tear roll and continued, "I just d... didn't know what to d... do, ma'am!". Harry allowed her to gaze deeply into his eyes: his conscience would not betray him, "I felt so cornered and he would not leave me be!".
Draco saw the sideways glance Harry passed to him and he knew exactly what he was required to do, "I am afraid this is too true, miss. Weasel - Weasley lunged for Harry, I was absolutely terrified! How could anyone attack a poor, defenceless squib?".
McGonagall closed her eyes, rolling them slightly. She could not understand how the Sorting Hat could have possibly allowed a squib in, 'it was unconvincable'. Yet, Harry Potter had shown no sign of talent; he was worse than Neville.
"My father will hear about this!", protested Malfoy in his most disgusted tone.
McGonagall sighed before working herself up again, "Weasley, you shall come with me! Malfoy, do be good and take Harry to Professor Snape, check that he is well. He can decide your fates".
- Five -
Both boys laughed as they headed towards the dungeons. "That will teach him for trying to worm his way in!", whispered Malfoy triumphantly.
Harry agreed, "I cannot believe he was so fast to lose all tact".
"The poor Gryffindor", Malfoy mocked the idea of such a thing - as if it were a travesty.
They knocked the door and Snape admitted them. He was exasperated and amused - in equal measure - the moment he realised who had walked in, 'again'.
Boys, as amusing as it is, you cannot keep toying with them all", said Snape - in such a way that one would assume he had never felt amusement in anything. "I do understand that this is for your own safety, but using it as a weapon - for your own entertainment, no less - is terribly risky.
Snape's head turned suddenly: 'footsteps'.
"And you better not be back! A month of detentions for the pair of you!", he shouted, as he motioned towards the door, with what Harry imagined was the closest to a smirk Snape had ever revealed.
"Well. Hello there Albus. To what do I owe the pleasure?", Snape said with a tone of piercing irony.
Author's Note: Thank you for reading and sticking with me! What do you imagine will happen next?
