Updated 11 Jan 2017

Hogwarts, Unplottable Location, Scotland September 2, 1991

Due to years of habit, Harry's internal clock woke him around 6 that morning. After talking with Snape the night before, Harry had gone to the first year boys' room which was down a hallway off of the common room. When he arrived the beds had all been claimed apart from the one closest to the door leading to the hallway. As Harry got up to get ready for the day, he noticed the bed closest to him was also vacant while the other four still had their curtains drawn.

Harry walked to the toilets that adjoined their room (their showers were in a separate room that was shared among years 1-3) and saw Zabini at the sink brushing his teeth. After taking a leak Harry went to wash his hands at the other sink.

Zabini kept throwing Harry contemplative looks and after spitting out his toothpaste he opened his mouth as if to say something but then closed it shaking his head. Zabini started to walk off but then paused and turned around in the doorway

"They're taking bets, you know," Zabini said, "'how long till Potter runs screaming from Slytherin'… 'how long till Potter winds up in the hospital wing' stuff like that."

Harry felt chilled, "Sorry, who is?"

Zabini gave him an unimpressed look, "People," he said shortly, "I just thought I should let you know to watch your back," he said then walked out of the room.

Harry stood for a moment stunned. If Zabini were to be believed (not a sure thing, but still a reasonable exercise of caution), people were placing bets on how long he could escape serious bodily injury. Fellow Slytherins were placing these bets (because, really, who else could Zabini have talked to). Harry didn't know why he was surprised as this seemed pretty par the course of things since he arrived at Hogwarts. Snape's speech last night had alerted him to the fact that being in Slytherin apparently made him a pariah to the other houses and professors. Snape himself seemed to hate him with an intensity that rivaled his aunt and—oh yeah—now some of his own housemates were making sport of the unlikelihood of his continued health. Great. Just great.

Somehow, if he wasn't going to have a Hogwarts experience similar to that of his first few years of primary school, he was going to have to win people over fast in addition to learning how to defend himself against magical attacks. Being attacked with magic scared him exponentially more than Dudley's gang of Harry Hunters ever did.

At 7:30 the first years gathered in the common room so they could be guided down to breakfast by Marcus Flint who was a fifth year prefect and the captain of the quidditch team. Harry quickly joined up with Tracey and Daphne.

When they arrived in the Great Hall it was only about a third full. As people trickled in they ate their breakfast in near silence as many students were still half-asleep. Seeking distraction, Harry talked to Daphne and Tracey about the classes and what they had heard about the professors. Once the hall was nearly full, the heads of houses came around to hand out the class schedules. When Snape came to give Harry his schedule he also gave him a curled parchment and sealed parchment with a scoff. Harry opened it:

Harry,
Please come and see me immediately after breakfast.
Albus Dumbledore.
p.s. I enjoy Ice Mice

"What is it?" Tracey asked.

Harry handed it to her, "The headmaster wants to see me."

"Ooooh you must be in trouble," she teased, "I bet he wants to make you move to Gryffindor to get you away before us evil snakes have a chance to corrupt the precious Boy-Who-Lived," she said, "But I think he's mistaken," she leaned to whisper conspiratorially, "If anything, it's you who would corrupt us!"

"Who, me?" Harry feigned shock. The two laughed.

Daphne wasn't so amused, "You need to watch out for Dumbledore," she warned seriously, "That man meddles in anything he can get his hands on."

Harry, who was already wary of the man, readily agreed to exercise caution, "I have something I want to talk to him about myself."

Breakfast at the Hufflepuff table was a much livelier affair. Most of the students had gotten over yesterday's shock about Harry's sorting and had begun to gossip.

"He must be a Dark Lord," Ernie MacMillian informed Wayne Hopkins and Justin Finch-Fletchley, "I bet he defeated You-Know-Who because he was an even more evil and powerful."

Neville interrupted the conversation unable to listen to such rubbish, "Oh, don't be ridiculous. Harry was a 15 month-old baby, he wasn't old enough to be evil. I met him on the train and became his friend, he is really nice and funny."

"That's just what he wants you to think! He was just using you, it's all part of his evil plan," MacMillian gestured wildly.

"Harry isn't in Slytherin because he's evil. He's there because he is a politician through and through," Neville continued, "He was the one who convinced me Hufflepuff wasn't such a bad house," A few students looked surprised at that. They had become used to Hufflepuff being mocked and derided.

"Hannah, Susan you talked to Harry on the train. Did he strike you as some sort of aspiring Dark Lord?" Neville asked them.

Hannah and Susan shyly agreed that they had been under the impression that Harry was a nice and friendly muggleborn that was really easy to talk to.

MacMillian wouldn't listen, but some of the other first years decided to adopt a "wait and see policy" about Harry.

Things did not go as well for Harry's reputation at the Gryffindor table. Ron Weasley told Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas how rude Harry had been to him on the train. Dean didn't really buy Ron's story but Seamus bought it up.

"I don't think he's all that bad," Dean said, "He was polite to Seamus and me,"

"You had better watch out," Ron warned, "He probably hates muggleborns like the rest of those slimy snakes."

"I kinda doubt that," Dean said, "He was wearing muggle clothing and he promised to play football with me if I could get a game started."

Ron, however, was adamant that Harry was an evil Dark Lord. Dean reluctantly agreed to watch out for him but he would play football with Harry if he was still up for it.

The Slytherins had a free period before Double History of Magic but Harry still left breakfast a bit early after asking directions from one of the prefects. Unsurprisingly given the castle's layout, he still managed to get turned around and was finally helped by a few portraits who seemed amused by his confusion. Once he arrived at the stone gargoyle that marked the headmasters' office he stood awkwardly for a moment given as there was no place to knock, oh-

"Uh, Ice Mice?" he said and the gargoyle spun with a loud grinding noise. As it spun it revealed a staircase that spiraled upwards as the gargoyle continued to turn. At the top of the stairs, just when Harry lifted his fist to knock on the door, a voice called out inviting him inside. Harry cast a suspicious glance at the now vacant portrait near the door then entered the room.

"Harry, my boy," said Dumbledore called out from his desk, "Please, take a seat," he smiled pleasantly.

Harry sat down in one of the wooden chairs in front of the headmaster's desk, "Good morning, Headmaster."

"Would you care for a lemon sherbet?" Dumbledore asked holding out a candy bowl nearly overflowing with them.

"I'm good, thanks," Harry said. A pause followed in which Dumbledore smiled benignly and Harry grew increasingly off-put.

"Well I guess it's lucky you asked me here, sir, because I would like to ask you about how Hogwarts came to be in possession of a key to my trust vault," Harry said, "Could you explain how this happened, sir?" If Dumbledore was trying to use silence to mind-game him into revealing secrets it wasn't going to work and he might as well use it to his advantage.

Harry didn't miss how Dumbledore's smile momentarily flickered downwards, "Harry, my boy, it was not Hogwarts that had your key but I who had it," Dumbledore said as if that explained everything.

"Okay… Can you explain why you had the key to my trust vault? I only just met you today."

"Ah that is not quite true, my boy. You see, your parents were close friends of mine so I saw you many times when you were a baby. You've grown up to look so much like them it is a shame they passed—such a shame," Dumbledore shook his head looking morose.

Harry normally would have enjoyed hearing about his parents but Dumbledore hadn't answered his question, "So my parents gave you a key to my trust vault…because you were a family friend?" with all the skepticism that idea deserved.

"Your parents were members of a group that fought Voldemort that I was in charge of. It was called the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore said stroking his beard, "They knew the war was dangerous for those who stood up against Voldemort so they made arrangements in case they were killed and you survived them," he said.

Harry still thought Dumbledore hadn't answered the question, "Their 'arrangements' were to give the key to my vault to a man who wouldn't see me for ten years?"

Dumbledore peered closely at Harry and a strange feeling came over Harry, almost as if there was a slight pressure surrounding his head. Harry looked away from Dumbeldore's eyes and instead focused on his flamboyantly patterned robes. The strange feeling went away

"I was to hold on to it until your guardians came to collect it. I tried to contact your relatives but they did not seem to want to meet with me. I assumed they did not want or need additional support."

That was a load of bullshit if Harry had ever heard one. Giving a friend a key to their sons' sole available livelihood seemed highly unlikely. His story about the Dursleys was even more so. Sure the Dursleys would not have wanted to talk to Dumbledore but if they were aware Harry had any money, let alone a small fortune, Vernon would've set aside his prejudice for a day to go raid Harry's vault. And given the frequency they told him he was a burden and taking the food from Dudley's mouth they were unaware they could get any money to support Harry. Maybe if Dumbledore didn't mention the money and expressed a desire to chat his story could work but not mentioning the key seemed like a rather large oversight for the person his parents entrusted with it. The problem was Harry couldn't exactly contradict Dumbledore. What Dumbledore said seemed stupid and unlikely but he had no way to show it was impossible.

"Ok. That could make sense," Harry reluctantly allowed.

"Now Harry that wasn't quite what I had called you up here to discuss," Dumbledore said with mild reproach in his tone that Harry felt was completely undeserved.

Again the room lapsed into silence and Harry came to the frustrating realization that he would be forced to play along with Dumbledore's apparent script of the conversation, "So why did you want to see me, sir?" Harry asked.

"Harry, Harry, I must confess I am a bit worried about whether you will be able to remain safe in Slytherin."

Harry's metaphorical hackles raised. Sure, Zabini's warning may have given him some doubts himself but he didn't appreciate Dumbledore butting his head in nor did he seem him doing it for anyone else, "Really, sir? Why do you say that?"

"Well since you have just learned about the wizarding world, as Minerva informed me, you may not know this but when Voldemort was at his most powerful he had many followers who he called Death Eaters. Many of these Death Eaters had children and almost all of their children who are at Hogwarts are in Slytherin. I'm afraid that Slytherin could turn out to be quite dangerous for you," Dumbledore shook his head sadly.

"Oh, and what would you propose?" Harry asked through gritted teeth. There were a number of things that bothered him about what Dumbledore had said: namely that Dumbledore assumed he wouldn't have thought to bother to learn some basic facts about the war that cost him his parents. Also, while there was merit to the thought that some Slytherins might have it out for him, Harry did not appreciate Dumbledore's seemingly blanket assumption that if someone's parents were Death Eaters their children would be violent criminals as well.

"I think we should see if the Sorting Hat could place you somewhere more suitable."

'Somewhere more suitable?' Harry thought. He realized that Dumbledore was the sort of professor that Snape had warned them about. One who would assume the worst of them for being in Slytherin, "No. I'm going to have to pass on that offer," Harry said firmly.

"Harry, be serious, this isn't a joking matter this is about your safety!"

"I am serious," he said, "If I was in any other house the Slytherin students could attack me anywhere. While I am in Slytherin we are expected to present a united front outside our house so anyone wishing to attack me can only do so in our common room which I plan to avoid. I also highly doubt any other house would take too kindly to me joining them now nor would running away grant me any favors from the Slytherins."

"My boy, people will quickly forget and let bygones be bygones if we resort you now. Perhaps you could even do your parents proud and go into Gryffindor!" he chuckled, "I know James would've been heartbroken to see you in green and silver."

Harry had thought himself over caring about getting approval from adults but that did not stop him from momentarily feeling self-conscious and anxious when Dumbledore implied that his parents wouldn't be proud of him. However, those feelings was swiftly replaced with a cold white rage that Dumbledore would dare to attempt to invoke the specter of his dead parents to shame him into compliance.

"As you so kindly pointed out a moment ago, I didn't even know about magic until this past July. I certainly didn't know which house my parents attended at here or how they would have felt about the other houses." Harry said coldly, "Even if you put that hat on me again—which I refuse to allow—it wouldn't do any good. The hat said the only place for me was Slytherin," Harry said and was pleased by the brief flash of horrified shock on Dumbledore's face at that.

"And yeah, maybe my parents would be disappointed in how I turned out," Harry shrugged glad his voice stayed steady, "But if they were truly the kind of people who would be disappointed in a child they didn't even raise failing some ruddy personality test—well, then I'm not going to waste my life trying to meet their unreasonable standards!"

Dumbledore peered at him, steepled his fingers together and finally said, "I see that I will be unable to persuade you, Harry. Just know that my door is always open and I would be happy to help you if you ever feel that you are in over your head."

"To be honest, I highly doubt I will be taking you up on that offer, sir," Harry practically spat, "If you hoped to be some sort of grandfatherly figure to me, you are many years too late. I am a student at your school, and as far as I see it, that is the extent of our relationship. I am not your grandson, not your boy, not your friend, and currently, not much of a fan. As far as I see it, this conversation is already inappropriate. Do not expect me to join you in another one."

Harry glanced at his analogue watch, "I need to leave now if I want to get to class on time," Harry stood to leave. He turned to look at Dumbledore, "Unless you plan to keep me from my education, professor."

"Very well… you may leave, Harry," Dumbledore said.

If Albus' Plan had fallen to tatters yesterday, the pieces had disintegrated in his meeting with Harry. Slytherin was the only option for him? Was the boy past the point of redemption? Was he under Tom's influence? Or worse, had Albus unwittingly helped fashion another Tom Riddle?

Albus thought back over the entire conversation. Harry had looked away from his Legilimency probe before Albus could find out anything besides Harry disbelief and annoyance at Albus. Had the boy noticed his probe? How did he even know about Legilimency? Harry did not even seem to care about learning about his parents or disappointing them!

The speech Harry had given him had been frightening. Dumbledore had to admit Harry made a clever move. By establishing that the only relationship he saw between them was as a professor to student any communication not involving school would be seen as inappropriate. This meant Albus would now have to get to Harry through a third-party. Albus may have to completely abandon his plan with the Stone or at least institute a back up to ensure Tom and Harry's confrontation. But in order to get Harry back on the path of The Plan, if it could be done, Albus would really need to get to work.

When Harry met up with his class by the History of Magic classroom Tracey flagged him down, "So what did the headmaster want to see you for?" she asked

"What you had thought, he wanted me to move houses. Didn't seem to think Slytherin was suitable."

"What a jerk. He's the headmaster here you'd think he would have to at least pretend to treat the houses fairly."

"You would think," Harry said, "He also seemed to think Slytherin might not be the safest" he said quietly.

"There he may not be totally off base," Daphne said.

"Anyone I should be worried about in particular?"

Daphne thought for a moment and looked at Tracey who just shrugged, "Not yet. Hopefully, most will go after you with words first. You aren't seen as well if you have to result to physical violence… Although you may be an exception," she admitted. They then had to quiet down as Professor Binns floated in through the chalkboard.

History of Magic proved to be excruciatingly boring, especially in such a long session. Harry thought this was a shame since he had really enjoyed the history books he had read over the summer. Professor Binns' voice acted like a sedative and it was nearly impossible to stay alert. The most interesting, and most irritating, part of the class were the dirty and sometimes fearful looks the Ravenclaw students would send his way. If he wanted any peace at Hogwarts and success after, he was going to figure out how to do something about that.

As they walked down to the Great Hall for lunch Harry decided to ask Daphne about the funny feeling he had when Dumbledore had looked at him, "Hey, Daphne when you said to 'watch out' for Dumbledore… did you mean that literally?"

Daphne looked at him, confused, "What do you mean?"

"Okay this might sound stupid and be nothing but when I was looking Dumbledore in the eye, I got this strange feeling and I felt like my head got a bit muddled and it went away when I looked away…"

Daphne gasped, began looking angry, but then paused and gave him a bit of a confused look.

"Okay so it means something?" Harry asked.

"Harry, do you know anything about the mind arts?"

"Mind arts?" Harry asked, alarmed, "What did he do?"

"I'll tell you tonight," she promised, "This isn't the place for this conversation," she said looking around the Great Hall where they had just arrived.

Harry began to complain, "But-"

"Later," she insisted.

Lunch at the Slytherin table was filled with verbal posturing. The first years were talking (read bragging) about the holidays their families had taken. Malfoy seemed to have gotten over his humiliation from the night before and was eager to get back at Harry.

"Potter, did the muggles who raised you ever take you anywhere?" Malfoy asked. The first years turned to look at him with varying degrees of surprise.

"Muggles raised you?" Parkinson said with disgust.

Harry took note of the expressions on people's faces, noting those who looked disgusted, "No we didn't really travel outside of Great Britain," he responded, "Although I must admit, Malfoy, I'm a bit shocked you know so much about me as that isn't public knowledge. I hadn't realized you were such a dedicated fanboy," Harry gave him an over the top simpering smile, "Are you trying to get my autograph?"

Malfoy turned pink, "I don't care about you at all you muggle-lover. My father told me. He's good friends with the minister and very well-informed," Malfoy bragged.

"Oh, so I should make the autograph out to him then?" Harry asked facetiously earning a few laughs from the table.

The conversation carried on after that and Harry was gratified to see that he wasn't treated all that differently by most of the first years. Soon they had to leave lunch to head to Double Charms which was with the Hufflepuffs.

Once at the classroom Neville waved Harry over to sit with him to Harry's pleasant surprise. The other Hufflepuffs seemed a bit wary of him but not as frightened as the Ravenclaws seemed to be—well apart from one student whose name Harry thought began with Mc or Mac something who looked alarmed when Harry sat next to Neville.

Charms was taught by Professor Flitwick, a small man who was a quarter goblin. While Binns had seemed completely indifferent to the very existence of any of the students, Flitwick began class by taking roll, stumbling over Harry's name when he called it. Harry noticed that Flitwick seemed to be watching him extra closely throughout the class although the looks were more contemplative than angry or suspicious.

As Flitwick lectured the class on safety precautions and theory, Mac-whatever kept trying to get Neville's attention to mouth things to Neville including, but not limited to, "HE'S EVIL," and "HE. WILL. KILL. YOU." It was so ludicrous Harry was tempted to laugh.

When the theory part of the class was over and they began to try spell casting he and Neville were finally given a chance to talk.

"Sorry about Macmillan over there," Neville said nodding towards the boy, "He thinks you're some sort of Dark Lord who defeated You-Know-Who by being more evil or something equally dumb. I tried to tell him that was rubbish but he just wouldn't listen."

This surprised Harry. No one had ever stood up for him before. Whenever things got rough for kids who were nice to him in primary school they were quick to drop him or even help Dudley pick on him, "You don't need to do that for me, Neville," he said.

Neville looked at him seriously, "No Harry, I did have to. You're my first friend. I won't sit by while someone insults you."

"Thank you, Neville," Harry said.

Harry had to leave supper early to get to his detention with Snape. This was unfortunate because things had just been heating up between Malfoy and Nott. Harry got to the Potions room about ten minutes before seven. Deciding not to dawdle he knocked on the classroom door.

"Enter," Snape said. Although he hadn't shouted, Snape's voice carried through the door. Harry opened the door and walked into the classroom.

"You'll be scrubbing cauldrons tonight, Potter," Snape said motioning toward a counter that held about twenty cauldrons.

"Are there any gloves I could use, sir?" Harry asked. When Snape answered in a negative Harry nearly rolled his eyes at how petty the man was being.

Harry walked over to the counter and grabbed the first cauldron, he took it to the sink and began scrubbing. It wasn't that bad really, he'd washed worse when his aunt had experimented with recipes. Harry idly wondered how the Dursley's were managing without him cooking and cleaning for them. But, he supposed, with Dudley away at school as well there would be significantly less work to do.

Harry finished the first cauldron, set it aside and grabbed a second. Professor Snape glided over to the clean cauldron sucking in a deep breath. Harry guessed he was about to claim the cauldron "didn't shine quite right" or something ridiculous.

Snape, however, remained silent. He then stared at the cauldron Harry was working on for a while. Eventually, he turned around and returned to his desk. Harry wanted to shout in triumph but he kept scrubbing diligently.

An hour and a half later Harry had finished. His hands were red and pruned but Harry had begun to wonder if wizards even used rubber gloves anyways. Harry told Snape that he had finished. Snape came and inspected the cauldrons meticulously.

"Very well," Snape said grudgingly, "You may leave."

Harry was surprised that Snape had remained civil the entire detention, "I will see you tomorrow again at seven o'clock" Snape finished.

'Oh well,' Harry thought. He answered, "I will see you then sir," and left the classroom.

Snape stared at the closed door to his classroom in a state of confusion. The detention hadn't gone anything like he had expected. He had stayed deliberately silent expecting the boy to crack and start mouthing off so he could assign the spoiled brat more detentions. Instead the boy had remained completely silent after he had complained about not having gloves. Although, on further reflection Snape was unsure if it truly was a complaint At first he had thought the boy meant dragon-hide gloves which were nearly impossible to dry once you soaked them but after he had inspected the first cauldron he began to suspect the boy meant the rubber gloves muggles used. He had obviously scrubbed cauldrons or pots before and had obviously done it often. snape had felt rather smug when Potter had finished the first cauldron so early because he thought he would be able to tell him off for rushing and slacking but the cauldron had been completely clean.

Snape's final attempt to make the boy crack by assigning him another detention didn't even seem to faze him. Snape had been sure it would make the boy explode after having held back the rest of the detention. Snape decided to give Harry a less pleasant task in the next detention to see if he could goad the boy into losing his temper.

Longbottom Residence: Heartstone Manor, Unplottable Location, England September 2, 1991

The tea cup Augusta Longbottom was holding had been paused halfway to her mouth for the last ten minutes. She had just received her first correspondence from Neville. He had told her that he had been sorted into Hufflepuff. This was not entirely unexpected and was not what had made her tea pause in its path. No, it was the letter as a whole. If she hadn't taught Neville and been well acquainted with his handwriting she would have thought a completely different person had written it. Apparently, the boy had finally grown a spine.

Neville had written that he told the hat to place him in Hufflepuff because he had become Harry Potter's friend on the train and Harry had known he would be in Slytherin. He assured her this was because he was a politician and not an up-and-coming Dark Lord (not to say that had been Augusta's first assumption.) He went on to basically tell her that he didn't really care what she thought and was happy to be in Hufflepuff.

Her arm began to fall asleep so she put down her now cold tea. She had always been so disappointed in Neville. Now on the first day he left the house for school he made friends with a strong political ally, made his own life changing choices, and stood up for himself to her.

Had she been the one holding him back? Had her ridicule stunted and not encouraged his growth? She made her way to her desk to write Neville back, hoping she could still salvage her relationship with him.

Hogwarts, Unplottable Location, Scotland September 2, 1991

When Harry got back to the common room from detention Daphne pulled him into one of the study rooms with where Tracey sat.

"Legilimency," said Daphne.

"Pardon?" said Harry.

"Dumbledore was using Legilimency on you," Tracey explained while Daphne paced.

"What does that mean?"

"It's a magic of the mind that allows the user to extract thoughts, feelings and memories from another," Daphne said.

"That son of a bitch! Please tell me that's extremely illegal," Harry pleaded.

"It's not," Daphne replied shortly, "It's frowned upon but would be impossible to regulate so the Ministry doesn't bother. It's probably too convenient for those in power anyway."

"Can I protect myself somehow?" Harry asked.

Harry saw that Tracey was looking at him in confusion. Daphne answered him, "You can protect yourself through the practice of Occlumency."

"How long would it take me to learn it?" Harry asked.

"Wait, you've never heard of Occlumency? Tracey asked. Daphne shot her a warning look.

"That you were able recognize something was wrong is a good sign. I sent a letter to my mother asking for her to send me my old instructional books."

"Thank you," Harry said, gratefully.

"Harry, who is your magical guardian?" Daphne asked.

Harry considered his response but went with the truth, "No idea, I've never met them."

Tracey gasped.

"I had started to suspect you might not be in contact with yours," Daphne continued cautiously, "Harry, did you always know about the magical world?"

Harry froze for a second. He didn't having his vulnerabilities exposed to anyone and that Daphne was able to figure out what many would see as a weakness unnerved him. But Daphne and Tracey had been nice to him, they were helping him when they didn't need to, "No. I didn't know until I got my Hogwarts letter," he admitted.

"What?!" Tracey said.

"Do you know how you ended up with your relatives?" Daphne probed.

"…um, they told me that someone left me on their doorstep," Harry said and he could feel the heat rise in his cheeks.

Tracey's eyes bulged on Daphne went white, "All of this has to be like seven types of illegal, isn't it Daphne?" Tracey asked.

"It sounds like it. A magical guardian is required to see to their dependent's magical education. When your parents passed away you should've either been placed in a home through the reading of their will or through the Child Protective Services. Neither option would likely result in placing you in a basket on a muggle doorstep."

"It wasn't a will," Harry said quietly and repeated louder when prompted, "Gringotts told me my parents wills were sealed shortly after they died."

Daphne was looking increasingly alarmed, "Harry, I think you need to contact the DMLE. I think it's possible that you were kidnapped," Daphne said.

"I don't want a media circus, " Harry said shaking his head, "Things turned out alright, didn't they?"

"Harry, finding out what exactly happened you is a lot more important than worrying about the media."

"I just don't- I just don't want people to know, alright?" Harry said.

Both the girls were looking at him with a sad expression that Harry instantly hated. He looked away.

"Harry in order to do pretty much anything in the wizarding world you're going to need your magical guardian. They aren't doing something they are legally required to do. They're breaking the law."

"Fine, fine," Harry said, "It's just-is there a way to go about this, I don't know, quietly?"

"Maybe if you contact Madame Bones directly. She isn't the type to tell the press anything and she will have the most power to sort things out." Daphne said.

"Look I'll send a letter to Madame Bones tomorrow. I'm just going to head to bed," Harry said abruptly, "Goodnight," Harry left to head towards his dorm room.

Daphne was worried about Harry. Her mother had told her that there were two kinds of people who ended up in Slytherin: those whose families raised them to value ambition, cunning, and resourcefulness and those who came to value those qualities out of necessity. The latter kind almost always had unhappy childhoods and Daphne suspected Harry fell into this category.

It sounded like someone (and if Daphne had to guess who her money would be on Albus Dumbledore) had really screwed up his life. If the muggle relatives hadn't been willing to tell Harry magic existed, she doubted they were all that kind to the baby wizard who had been left on their doorstep.

Harry had so far done surprisingly well keeping up with the other Slytherins and must have done a lot of research in the month and a half since he received his Hogwarts letter but there was only so much you can learn from books as Harry's ignorance of the mind arts demonstrated. Daphne resolved to help him fill in any gaps in his knowledge and help him to continue to excel in the intra-house political scene.

AN: Harry's actions have changed from the original version and the chapters will be diverging more and more from this point on. Daphne, Tracey and Neville inexplicably seemed to know everything about Harry's situation (I was using them to externalize his internal dialogue) Dumbledore will be more competent, Snape less fast to warm up to Harry, and Harry isn't able to immediately identify Neville is using a wand that is a hand-me-down

Harry doesn't really understand that his treatment was all that bad and his desire to keep it hidden may not be rational but it is a part of who he is. He saved himself from a shitty situation so he is unused to and dislikes opening up to others and revealing what he thinks makes him seem weak.