Shorter chapter although around half of it is new content, I'm breaking it up differently so it can flow better.

Hogwarts, Unplottable Location, Scotland September 3, 1991

Harry suffered from a restless night of sleep, preoccupied with the letter to Madam Bones he had promised to write. It had never dawned on him just how suspicious his winding up on the Dursley's doorstep one night was. (While he obviously couldn't remember it himself he knew his aunt would not have lied about this as it was freakish and unusual and, as long as Harry had known her, she seemed terrified of having any such things remotely related to her and certainly wouldn't invent something freakish happening to her.) If he had been kidnapped and his parents' wills sealed to cover it up, there was a very real possibility Harry should have never been in the Dursley's custody and Madam Bones' investigation would reveal that and with any luck he would never have to go back there again.

This all sounded absolutely fantastic but two things were making Harry hesitant to send the letter. First, Harry did not want anyone to know how pathetic his first few years at the Dursley's had been and second, (tied closely to the first) if Harry sent the letter, the DMLE would undoubtedly talk to the Dursleys which would reveal concern number one but also really, really piss them off. While Harry knew the Dursley's treatment of him was illegal in the muggle world he had no idea what sort of laws, if any, existed in this seemingly archaic wizarding world, that would deem the Dursley's treatment of him unacceptable. His research prior to coming to Hogwarts had focused on the wizarding world in a broader sense or in the recent political scene and came nowhere close to family law.

On the off chance his parents actually wanted him to go to the Dursleys, which he certainly hoped they weren't that dumb (but they seemed to be Dumbledore cronies and certainly trusted the wrong man as their secret keeper) he would be supremely screwed if he had to go back to the Dursleys this summer after he had brought the wizarding police down on their doorstep. Any good will built between him and Vernon would be obliterated and if he had been locked in his cupboard for a week after turning his teacher's hair blue he did not want to even imagine what would be in store for him come June.

After hours of tossing and turning, running these things over in his mind, Harry's dorm mates began to wake up and Harry decided to get ready for the day. Harry followed Zabini to the shower room so as not to be alone in an area upper year Slytherins went. Zabini seemed to realize what Harry was doing given his raised brow but shrugged and made conversation with Harry about their classes the previous day.

While at breakfast, Harry's copy of the Daily Prophet was dropped off. Harry blinked at one of the front page headlines in shock. Apparently his sorting was front page news:

The Boy-Who-Lived, a Slytherin!
By Rita Skeeter

Shocking letters reached anxious parents yesterday with startling news. Harry Potter the Boy-Who-Lived was sorted into Slytherin! This came as quite the surprise to many of the other students and, I am sure, many of us.

Harry Potter is described to have short black hair, bright green eyes, and to be about average height. Contrary to popularly circulated portrayals, he wears no glasses and his hair is too short to attain the messy locks the Potter men were known for.

We can only speculate why Potter has been sorted into Slytherin after being heralded as the Light's hero. After all, the Potters have been Gryffindors for generations and his mother was a muggleborn Gryffindor herself. But be assured dear readers, I and the rest of the wizarding world will keep our eyes peeled for any more information about the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Have you read the paper yet, Potter?" Malfoy drawled.

"Why nooo Draco, I was just staring at it hoping it would read itself," Harry said sarcastically, barely paying Malfoy any mind.

"Wasn't Rita Skeeter in Slytherin?" he asked the table at large.

"Yes," said Tracey, "but she didn't really say anything bad about it. The questioning of your character was just implied."

Harry sighed. He was happy, for once, that he seemed to have mail wards on him, "Do you know any good solicitors?"

"This is a perfectly legal article," Daphne said, "Nothing in it is incorrect or even vicious," she leaned in closer and dropped her voice, "Given current circumstances you would be unable to retain one without, you know."

Ah yes, his absentee magical guardian. Harry had realized this article likely wouldn't be something he could go after but he had wanted to do something to make people more wary of printing articles or books about him. He really wanted to go after the Harry Potter Adventure series as they seemed all too popular and likely to feed into the misperceptions of him that seemed to make people like the Weasley in his year so hostile towards him when he failed to live up to his story-book counterpart.

This settled it for Harry, he needed to send Madam Bones that letter today.

They had Double Transfiguration after breakfast. Once there, Professor McGonagall gave them a stern lecture and turned her desk into a pig and back. They then took notes until their hands began to cramp up. During the practical part of the lesson they tried to turn matchsticks into needles. Harry got the closest, managing to make his look like a needle even though it was still made of wood. McGonagall seemed unable to look at him without a rather pinched look on her face but she gave him a point for his work. She hovered by Harry's desk for a moment and then begrudgingly went on to mention that his father had been very talented with transfiguration as well.

Next they had their first class with the Gryffindors, Defense Against the Dark Arts. When they were standing outside the Defense classroom Ronald Weasley came up and confronted Harry.

"Potter, you're a filthy, rotten, traitor and you'll get what's coming to you," he promised darkly.

Harry lifted his hand to his chest in mock offense, "Wow, harsh words to hear from my… Now what was it you called yourself again?" Harry asked rhetorically, "Oh yes. Harsh words to hear from my best mate."

Weasley's face turned burgundy clashing horribly with his hair and he pulled out his wand. Harry wondered if Weasley intended to poke him with it as they had yet to manage a spell. Harry's only reaction was to lift an eyebrow.

"No-no f-fighting in the h-h-hall. F-f-five p-p-points from Gr-Gryffindor," Quirrell interrupted them.

What followed was an excruciatingly painful hour. Harry decided halfway through it that Quirrell's stutter was fake as it was so inconsistent. Ten minutes after that he reconsidered, not because it sounded any more real, but because spending so long stuttering would require an inconceivable level of patience. Harry's head began to hurt so he tried to tone him out but it did little to help.

Weasley had continued to glare daggers at him throughout the class. Harry was a bit concerned that things would soon escalate between them (meaning Weasley would cause things to escalate.) Weasley seemed like the type who would be rash enough to try something. Harry was thankful that neither of them had really learned any spells yet.

After lunch they had a free period so Harry asked Tracey and Daphne to walk up to the Owlrey to post his letter to Madame Bones. Hedwig was upset with Harry for not visiting her earlier and it took a lot of coaxing for her to come down. She only accepted his letter once he had begun tying it to a school owl, loudly announcing what he was doing. Hedwig bit his finger to show her displeasure at his unfaithfulness.

Daphne's books arrived with dinner and Harry had to be reminded to go to his detention with Snape. He got there right on time.

"Enter," Snape said as his proximity charm alerted him to a presence outside of the classroom. The Potter boy came into the room.

"Today you will be emptying jars of expired ingredients," he informed the boy.

The corner of the boy's mouth flickered upward involuntarily in a micro-expression of disgust. Snape felt slightly smug at that.

"Yes sir," the boy said obediently anyway and went to work on the jars Snape had laid out.

After a few minutes of quiet work Snape decided to goad the boy, "I imagine this is not the sort of treatment you expected at Hogwarts," he sneered.

The boy remained silent.

"You will not receive any celebrity treatment from me. You are not special, boy. You are no better than the other students. I daresay a vast majority of the students are far better than you."

Still the boy said nothing. Snape was starting to become annoyed. He decided to return to what seemed to have helped set the boy off the other night (and if Snape could stop lying to himself, what he really wanted to lambaste the boy for), the boy's father.

"You have the same arrogance as your father," he said, "Although if he was still alive I expect he would have disowned you for being sorted into Slytherin

Snape looked at the boy to see if he was getting any closer to cracking. He noticed a glassy, almost dead look in the boy's eyes. Snape could see the boy disassociating himself from the situation! It was disconcerting—no annoying.

"Are you even listening to me, boy?" Snape demanded.

"Yes Aun—" the boy cut off abruptly, his eyes falling shut in disbelieving horror as a flush rapidly rose on his face, "Professor Snape," he corrected.

"What did you just say?!"

"No, sir, I obviously was not listening," the boy replied.

Had the boy almost called him Aunt? As in Aunt Petunia? As in 'Tuney' Evans? The very thought of being compared to that wretched creature was nauseating.

The boy made a gagging noise and stepped away from the work table breathing through his mouth.

"What?" it came out harsher than Snape intended.

"Sorry, sir. The last jar was particularly… ripe. I'm trying not add my own vomit to the things I have to clean today," the boy said with perhaps a touch of self-deprecating humor.

"Get back to work."

Snape went to his desk and watched as the boy continued to clean out the jars. Without his constant insults Snape realized that the boy was having a much more difficult time cleaning out the jars than he had noticed. Snape realized this detention was even more unpleasant than he had planned. But still the boy had not voiced a single complaint. Why?

Just then the boy darted away from the table to vomit in a nearby rubbish bin. As Snape reflexively cast a Bubble-Head charm on himself to spare himself from the odor prickles of what seemed far too much like guilt lapped at his conscious.

"I'm sorry sir, I'll clean it," the boy said pathetically as he hovered over the bin.

"No need," Snape replied then vanished the bin's contents.

The boy looked up at him. He frowned in confusion at the bubble surrounding Snape's head his charm created. The boy's eyes widened in comprehension of the spell's purpose and his expression morphed into one of righteous anger (for which Snape felt a brief flash of satisfaction) but then, just as quickly, the boy's face shuttered closed and his expression went blank again. Snape felt completely disconcerted.

"We're done, Potter. You may leave."

The boy simply nodded at him, gathered his things and left.

Snape's preconceptions of what Harry Potter would be like were completely mismatched with the reality of the boy. Not only was the boy not James Potter reincarnate, the boy's actions and reactions were raising a number of red flags he had for children of, shall we say, unhappy homes. But that was ludicrous.

Harry fled from Snape's classroom after experiencing what was possibly the most embarrassing hour of his life. He had almost called a professor who already hated him 'Aunt Petunia' and then proceeded to throw up in front of him. Mortifying.

He was eager to get back to his dorm to look at the mind arts books but when he entered the Slytherin common room the room began to quiet suddenly and all eyes turned towards him. Some eyes looked decidedly unfriendly, menacing even. An icy jolt of fear coursed through his veins as he swallowed and tried not to look like he was running towards his dorm room. The laughter that broke out as he shut the door told him he hadn't fooled anyone.

Hogwarts, Unplottable Location, Scotland September 4, 1991

The next day they had Charms at ten in the morning, Double Potions at three in the afternoon, and Astronomy at half ten until midnight. They worked on the same spell in Charms as they had on Monday. Harry and a majority of the other student managed to get the charm mostly working but Neville had no luck with it. Harry could see Neville becoming frustrated as the class went on.

Harry and the other students arrived early outside the Potions classroom. When Weasley arrived he shouldered past Harry roughly, "Slimy snake," he muttered.

While Harry had thick skin and honestly couldn't care less what Weasley said about him, he knew that if he did nothing he would be seen as weak. So Harry responded with his strategy of choice: making the other party lose their temper and incriminate themselves.

"You know, that's actually a common misconception," he said, "Snakes actually have quite dry skin much like their relatives the lizard. Don't get me wrong I can see where you're coming from though. I mean you look at a snake and you think to yourself 'I bet that would have a slimy texture' but appearances can be deceiving."

Everyone had looked confused at Harry's impromptu and bizarre lecture but when they noticed how angry Ron was getting and the way he was clenching his fists they understood what Harry was doing.

"But then again," Harry continued thoughtfully, "Sometimes when someone looks like, say, an idiot, acts like an idiot, and talks like an idiot, they really are just an idiot."

Harry ducked out of the path of Weasley's fist who had correctly deduced he was the idiot Harry spoke of.

Snape chose that moment to appear, "Ten points from Gryffindor, Weasley. We do not fight in the hallway like muggles."

Weasley glared daggers at Harry. Harry began to wonder if Weasley would ever learn or if he would just continue to use Harry as his personal scapegoat.

Harry sat with Blaise, which Zabini had begun to insist Harry calll him, for class. Snape had given them an intimidating speech then fired off questions at random. Harry had gotten the question about the difference between monskwood and wolfsbane to which he answered that they were different names for the same plant. Snape had asked Malfoy for another name for the plant which was aconite. Throughout this entire time the bushy haired Gryffindor girl who was sorted before Neville had been waving her hand around in the air desperately.

"Miss Granger, have you not yet realized that I am calling on students at random?" Some the students chuckled. Harry thought Snape was being a bit harsh, especially when Granger looked so devastated.

Once Snape had revealed the instructions for a potion students from each table, including both Harry and Weasley, went to get the ingredients from the potions cabinet. When Harry turned around to go back to his table he was balancing three large glass jars of ingredients. Weasley, whose anger had not abated in the slightest, slammed his shoulder into him. Harry was thrown off-balance, cursing himself for losing track of his surroundings. He began to fall and in that split second Harry figured he could either attempt to regain his balance or protect the jars. He went with the option that he, at the very least, wouldn't have to clean up.

He was able to tuck in his body and roll when he hit the ground. He landed more roughly than he used to, being out of practice and trying to protect the jars, and he had the wind knocked out of him and had probably gotten a few bruises. He set down most of the jars and sprung back up to his feet as quickly as he could feeling embarrassed. When he noticed the entire room was looking at him he blushed and busied himself picking up the jars.

"Thirty points from Gryffindor! Weasley, you'll have detention with me for a week!" Snape shouted once the he recovered from a state of stunned silence. He looked seething mad at having a schoolyard brawl occur in his classroom. Weasley, very idiotically, protested earning him another week of detention. The Gryffindors, and Granger especially, looked apocalyptically furious with Weasley for losing Gryffindor forty points.

Back at the table Blaise looked at Harry as if he was questioning his sanity, "They weren't worth it, you know. Weasley just wanted you to drop some of the ingredients," Harry, still blushing, nodded having since realized that himself "You all right?"

"I'm fine," said Harry said shortly, "Let's just get started, okay?" Blaise didn't say anything further, which Harry appreciated, and they worked on their potion.

Snape prowled around the room during class which had the effect of distracting many of the students. It didn't help that he was especially angry. Finnegan and Weasley's cauldron melted and their potion got onto a few students sitting nearby causing painful boils to spring out wherever it had touched their skin. Snape looked almost reluctant to let Weasley leave.

Harry thought his and Blaise's potion looked decent and was satisfied with it. When class was over Snape asked Harry to stay back.

Once they were alone Snape spoke, "You look like you know how to take falls." There was in implicit question.

"Uh, yeah I've taken my fair share."

"Under what circumstances?" Snape asked.

"Well, when I was little my cousin Dudley and his gang—of friends, used to enjoy beating me up at school," Harry said while averting his gaze from Snape's eye remembering that some wizards could read minds.

"You may go, I will see you in class tomorrow." Harry booked it out of the room and headed off to the library.

Snape was having a bad day to say the least. He had been summoned to Albus' office after breakfast. Albus had asked him questions about who Potter's friends were and how he was doing in the political climate. Snape had been doing his level best to avoid thinking about the boy and having an hour long discussion about him didn't exactly help that. Snape neglected to tell Albus about any of his suspicions regarding the boy's home life because, well, the less he thought about it the better.

This afternoon's class had been a low point as well. Outside the classroom he had heard enough of the conversation to know Potter had not said anything that would provoke a reasonable person to take a swing at him. He also saw Weasley slam into Potter during class. He had, like Weasley, predicted Harry would drop the ingredients to avoid falling. When the boy had tucked them into himself tighter and taken the fall Snape's heart had leapt up into his throat. Harry had surprised him again by falling so well. It was a maneuver that had to be practiced, he knew from experience. He held Harry back hoping that the boy took Karate or something.

What also worried him was the way the Harry had consciously shifted his gaze from his own. Someone must have told him about Legilimency, but why they did this worried him. He knew he had gone to a meeting with Dumbledore. Had Dumbledore tried to use it on him? Had the boy managed to notice him if he did? He wouldn't put it passed Albus to try something. The man had been scrambling since July.

Merlin, Snape did not want to be thinking about any of this. He did not want to sympathize or worry over a Potter. He was beginning to think that it might be a losing battle.

When Harry got to the library he went over to the table Daphne and Tracey were at. Tracey punched him in the arm, "Hey, what was that for?"

"You nearly gave me a heart attack you dummy! Why did you let yourself fall? You could have really hurt yourself!"

"So your solution is to hurt me?" he held up his hands in surrender as she drew her arm back again, "I don't know, I thought I would have to clean up the ingredients if I dropped them," he shrugged.

"Snape saw the whole thing, Weasley would have had to pick them up," Daphne said.

Harry shrugged again, "Look, Snape gave me a lecture at the beginning of the year just for being related to my dad. He hates me. How should I know what he'd do?"

"I thought he looked worried," Tracey said. Harry gave her an incredulous look.

"Do you know any defensive spells?" Daphne asked.

Harry blushed, "No, and I doubt I will learn them in Defense any time soon.

"You need to learn a few, especially now that someone has physically attacked you," Daphne said.

Harry resolved to look into spells ASAP and practice that weekend. They worked on their homework from Defense and History until supper.

Supper was not going well for Ron Weasley or the Harry Potter is a Dark Lord Theory. Lavender and Parvati had quickly told as many people as they could find why Gryffindor was down forty points from lunch. The two were so accomplished of gossips that all four houses and the staff table knew what happened in Harry Potter's first Potions class before supper ended and most were discussing it.

"So you decided it would be a good idea to attack Harry Potter"

"-the Slytherin,"

"-during the middle of a Potions class?"

"Your very first Potions class?" Fred and George asked Ron. They generally approved of rule breaking as long as it was clever, but this was just stupid.

"He wasn't supposed to fall! He was just supposed to drop the ingredients," Ron argued. This reasoning had won Ron no sympathy from anyone yet.

Fred and George sighed, they had known Ron was stupid but not on this scale. Percy Weasley, the prefect, had taken Ron's transgression as a personal insult and proceeded to lecture him throughout the entire meal. For once, many people had chimed in and nodded along with the lecture.

The Harry Potter is a Dark Lord Theory was falling out of favor because, apparently, getting knocked to the ground then getting up embarrassed about it and then not even retaliating was on the list of Things Dark Lords Just Don't Do. The theory would not have been so thoroughly trashed if the students had known what Harry was thinking. He fully intended to retaliate. It wouldn't be physical, but it would be public and effective. For Harry too, was not enjoying his supper. He did not like being embarrassed and if this story was just embarrassing for him.

Ministry of Magic, London, England September 4, 1991

Madame Bones eyed the glowing 23:29 on the clock as she worked her way through the last of the correspondence on her desk. She was used to working any and all hours in her role as Head of the DMLE. She looked at the final letter on her desk which was written on cheap parchment and addressed to her in a somewhat unpracticed, possibly childish, scrawl. At least this one looked like it wouldn't take long. Opening the letter and reading it she quickly revised that opinion.

Madam A. Bones,

This is Harry Potter. I write to you because I am concerned about the circumstances surrounding how I came to be placed with my current guardians. I had been completely unaware of the existence of magic until I received my Hogwarts letter. I have since found out that as a child born to magical parents and as the heir to an Ancient and Noble House, I was supposed to have been in touch with a magical guardian. I have no idea who my magical guardian is supposed to be. At Gringotts I was told my parents' wills were sealed and had somehow expired so I really don't know why it was determined that I should live with my mum's sister and her family. They told me I was left on their doorstep one night in a basket so I'm not sure even they have a better idea than me.

My main concern is figuring out who my magical guardian is and getting a new one because I can't really do anything in the magical world at the moment. I don't want this to become a media circus. Also I seem to have some sort of mail wards on me so I'm not really sure what the best way to contact me would be, sorry.

Thanks,

Harry J. Potter

After finishing the letter Madam Bones ran her hands over her face. This was Bad.

AN: Canon Snape is a bullying dick. In this story he's going to grow out of that but it won't happen overnight. In his POVs he refers to Harry as the boy because he is trying to separate him from James

I've tried to reduce Harry's ridiculous oversharing with Snape as much as I could. I'm hoping his character isn't coming across as too disjointed because half of this is old stuff and half is new.