On the way to the Great Hall while everyone was distracted by ghosts Harry told Nagini to stay put and not leave his side even if she managed to pinpoint her Master among all the people inside. Finding Voldemort was her goal from the very beginning and even if she left right now to join him there was little Harry could do to stop her. Other than directly ordering her to stay. But she wasn't Harry's Familiar and, surely, her link with Voldemort was stronger and Harry didn't want to keep her against her will. Yet, Nagini understood and didn't rush to follow the link she sensed. For her, it wouldn't be wise to do so in front of all the people and without knowing Voldemort's plans for being in Hogwarts in the first place. Nagini stayed quiet but Harry could feel her practically buzzing with impatience.
Harry didn't pay much attention to speculations about the Sorting Ceremony. There was a sense of expectancy resonating throughout the hall, Harry could feel multiple eyes on him but didn't want to look at anyone in return yet, instead admiring the stars that illuminated the ceiling. Taking a deep breath Harry cleared his mind cutting off all the unnecessary thoughts, he was here to begin his education in Hogwarts, he was here to be sorted. Everything else could wait even if Nagini stirred about under his robes.
Professor McGonagall put an old hat on the stool and to the majority of first-years' confusion, it started singing. When it stopped and eager murmurs were heard from around the tables Harry knew that the sorting was about to begin.
Harry watched impassively how Granger and Longbottom were sorted into Gryffindor, how Malfoy, unsurprisingly, went to Slytherin. When it was Harry's turn the hall fell silent, his steps almost echoing as he walked to the stool.
The Sorting Hat was placed on his head obstructing the view and nothing happened for a long stretching minute. Soon he heard a jolly voice.
"Oh my, what an empty child!"
"What do you mean?" Harry thought with intention, figuring the voice was only in his head.
"So he can think, that's a relief. Nice mental shields you have there, but they aren't an obstacle to me."
The hat hummed something about digging deeper. Minutes passed by, Harry wondered how long the sorting could possibly take.
"That's a complicated case. Not like anything I've seen before. You don't seem to have any prominent features in you."
The hat sounded confused and Harry wasn't sure if he ought to be offended.
"How so?"
There was a long pause again, Harry could feel its presence brushing through his mental shields.
"Don't worry, your secrets are safe with me. Although, you aren't exactly worried, are you?"
"No." he actually wasn't. He was confident he could deal with whatever came out of it no matter how complicated the situation was. Harry closed his eyes patiently waiting. He could hear muffled sounds from the hall. No one had been under a hat for so long yet. Harry suddenly recalled the long process of choosing a wand. In the end, there was a result, he just hoped, this time they won't have to wait for an hour too.
"I see." the hat finally said, not so cheerful anymore.
"What do you see?" Harry asked when it didn't say anything else.
"I see cunning but not ambitious. Not exactly brave… fearless? Curiosity is a strong one, same with intelligence, but you get so easily bored. Hard-working? No, you'd prefer a minimal effort approach."
The hat fell silent again.
More hushed whispers were heard from the tables.
"The house?" Harry reminded.
"You have to give me something, boy."
While the hat took her time thinking, Harry inwardly debated his options as well. On the practical side, he would want to stay away from Dumbledore, he had no qualms against Professor McGonagall, whose cough he heard some minutes ago, but alas, it wouldn't be a good choice for him. He didn't lie about being fine with any House, but he also never assumed it would be his decision to make. In that case Slytherin at least seemed more suited for making connections. True, he might have lacked ambition but he had to think about his future regardless, and there was only one place where he might be more comfortable to do things his way.
With that in mind, he offered, "Well… I like snakes?"
The Sorting Hat guffawed and finally bellowed for everyone to hear.
"SLYTHERIN!"
Harry made sure to plaster a smile on his face, an indication that no, the Boy Wonder didn't mind being sorted in the former House of the Dark Lord and his associates, for everyone to see. Harry chanced a glance around the completely silent hall, the chills that ran over the spines of stunned professors and students were almost palpable. Professor McGonagall looked betrayed, Weasley had a face as if the whole world crumbled before him, Dumbledore looked like he ate a particularly sour lemon. Malfoy was the first to break the silence with a clap and as if on cue the Slytherins erupted with welcoming applause soon joined by other houses.
As he sat at the Slytherin table beside Draco, Harry caught sight of Neville who sent him a tentative smile.
After the bizarre speech Dumbledore gave, Harry wondered if everything was all right with the headmaster's head as he eyed bright yellow stars and moons scattered on his long blue robe. The man's eyes twinkled almost as much as the stars, if not more, and Harry averted his gaze when he saw said eyes turning in his direction.
The food appeared on the table and Harry took his time placing some of it on his plate estimating the amount that would be enough to sate him. Harry didn't indulge in any snacks on the train, not being in the mood for sweets and not particularly hungry at the time. He was now used to staying for longer hours without eating anything, engrossed in studying, but not to the point of starving himself. The food didn't excite him as much as before, with only occasional exceptions when he tried something new, and mostly treating it as a necessary source of energy without any particular preferences. He was grateful Hogwarts seemed generous with the food at least. As he was chewing slowly, small conversations were heard around him but nothing he felt like participating in yet, so instead he observed other tables. Unsurprisingly, Ron was sorted into Gryffindor, looking at Harry angrily in between shoving food into his mouth like no tomorrow. Harry blinked at the scene, somewhat disgusted. He wasn't judging because he knew what hunger could do to self-restraint but still, table manners were invented for a reason.
"What a savage," Malfoy said having followed Harry's line of sight.
"Blood traitors," the girl next to Draco piped in. Pansy Parkinson, Harry recalled. She then narrowed her eyes at Harry. "You'd think Potter would be right among them too."
"Why?" he asked unperturbed.
Maybe something in Harry's voice or the lack of it made Parkinson visibly relax, "You really aren't bothered, are you?"
"Why would he be bothered, Pansy?" Draco answered before Harry could. "Harry is clearly one of us. You know, we are friends."
"Since when?" Another boy inquired, his expression not giving anything away.
"Since we met on the train, Blaise."
Zabini appraised Harry and said nothing else.
Harry shrugged. "I see no reason to be bothered. Slytherin seems… nice." he finally found the words to give as an answer. Some people shot him disbelieving looks.
"How is it nice?" Theodore Nott, seated across him, asked. Harry pointedly looked at the Gryffindor table where everything was chaotic and so loud, and Ron still behaving like he had seen food for the first time in his life while arguing with someone at the same time. Then he looked back at Slytherins who apparently knew that manners existed, no one shouted or messed around. Even Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle properly chewed their heaps of food. "It's quiet."
"Huh, so you are a quiet boy?" Millicent Bulstrode joined in the conversation.
"I enjoy quiet," he said simply, not quite answering her question, he wasn't sure if she meant to pick on him. Several Slytherins hummed in agreement.
"Doesn't explain why the Golden Boy isn't so golden though," Tracey Davis said, her voice mocking.
Harry widened his eyes comically, looking himself over. "I don't see anything golden in me."
Someone snickered and Davis looked even more spiteful. "You think that you can just walk here like it's nothing, like it's so nice. Let me tell you, Slytherin is not nice and if you think you can so easily be accepted-"
"Davis." Malfoy intervened.
"What, Malfoy? You say you're already friends with him? Have you forgotten-"
"Tracey." The girl was interrupted again, now by Daphne Greengrass who stayed silent so far. "We don't have to do it now." She sent Davis a meaningful look.
Silence fell over the table, everyone preoccupied with their food, Harry briefly wondered if the first-years knew each other before Hogwarts, their dynamics suggested as much.
Harry let his attention wander to the High Table. Professor McGonagall appeared to be in a deep discussion with Professor Dumbledore, clearly on the topic of Harry Potter, their glances shooting in Harry's direction once and again. A man with black greasy hair in fully black robes looked at Harry like he grew a second head. Suddenly Harry felt a pang across the scar on his forehead. It was the same pain he always experienced when having that dream, only now sharper. He gave no indication that anything was wrong as his eyes landed on a professor with a purple turban. Strangely, the man wasn't looking at Harry. Next to him the man in the black robes was still watching Harry with severe intensity.
"Who is that?" he asked Draco. Malfoy looked in the direction Harry subtly indicated at.
"That's Professor Snape, our Head of House." Draco glanced at Harry curiously. "He must really hate you."
Professor Snape really hated him. Apparently, Harry's status as a celebrity bothered Snape so much he mentioned it at least two times in his speech that was meant to be a greeting and reciting of basic rules to new Slytherins. It wasn't supposed to be revolving around Harry at all, but somehow Snape found a way to glare at Harry with at least three mentions of Harry's father. It would be ridiculous if not unsettling.
"You will not shame Slytherin with breaking the rules. If you absolutely must, then at least have decency to not get caught. Any problems you might have with fellow Slytherins you solve within the House. Any problems you will have with other Houses you will solve without it resulting in the loss of points. I will not tolerate any outrageous pranks in any circumstances. Is that clear, Mr Potter?"
It was the first time Snape directly addressed him but if Snape wanted to play this game, Harry could too. He ignored the man and when Snape fully turned to him, sneering, "Well, Mr Potter?" Harry looked back over his shoulder as if someone else was there, who Snape was waiting an answer from.
"I am talking to you, Potter!"
Slowly, he looked back at Professor Snape catching his angry glare.
"Me?" Harry feigned surprise. "Sorry, sir. I thought you were talking to James Potter."
A stunned silence followed Harry's words, and he pushed back a smirk. Everyone in the Common Room held their breaths for what was to come.
"Your father is dead, Potter." Snape spat.
Harry straightened up glaring at Snape in return.
"Exactly." Harry said seriously. "And that is why I have no idea what were you talking about. I think, I've already exchanged more words with you than with my father. So…" he made a gesture to brush off an invisible dust from his tie, now evidently green and silver, to make a point.
The silence around became intense. No one dared to say a word, no one will ever defend Harry in front of Snape. Harry could only rely on himself and he wasn't about to just stand here and put up with Snape's aggression as if he deserved it somehow. He figured that despite his clear hatred Snape won't allow an embarrassment of taking the points out of his own House at the very first day. And Harry was probably less worried about the detention than Snape would be inconvenienced by it. Detention this early in the school process, before it even started at all, would make Snape look incompetent first and foremost. Slytherins prided themselves for discipline. Allowing anything that would point fingers at them would be a professional disaster for him.
Snape pursed his lips, his glare darkening. Harry held it trying to look as unconcerned as possible. Suddenly Harry noticed a presence threatening to destroy his carefully constructed shields and he imminently closed his eyes. His defences were still pretty fragile and he wasn't prepared to test them. By the grimace on Snape's face he seemed to notice, also knowing that Harry noticed too. It was a dangerous game and Harry wasn't sure anymore who held the advantage.
Probably realising he was giving Harry an absurd amount of attention while Harry hadn't done anything yet to warrant it, Snape turned around on a spot and barked, "What are you all gaping at? Dismissed." And with that he quickly strode to the door, his long black cloak flying high with each step like an angry bat.
Once Professor Snape left, the fifth-year prefects Gemma Farley and Wilfred Avery drew attention to themselves, reminding that if anyone had any questions or concerns, they should seek the prefects first and push the matter straight to the Head of House only in case of emergencies. They led the first-years to their respective dormitories, promising to meet them in the morning to help navigate through the castle.
The Boy's Dormitory had six four-poster beds covered in green with their trunks already waiting beside each one. Crabbe and Goyle were the first to identify their beds closest to the door. Nott and Malfoy followed Goyle to the left side of the door, while Zabini and Harry went to the right. As instructed by prefects at the Hogwarts Express, Harry's trunk was in its full size, black with silver linings, so it wasn't a problem to find his bed in the furthest corner straight across from Draco.
Without another word Harry decisively went to sit cross-legged on his bed shutting himself out from the rest of the room. He could hear others talking between themselves but nothing to worry about, nothing was said about Harry Potter. It wasn't too much to ask, to feel somewhat normal, to stop being the centre of attention. Harry was alert nevertheless, assuming the peace wasn't for long. Slytherins were just that good at keeping up appearances. But that was also why he trusted them not to invade his privacy as he prompted Nagini to slide off his sleeve.
"Return to full size, Nagini." he hissed quietly. She did, taking up almost all the bed curling around herself and Harry several times. Her familiar weight pressed at Harry and he embraced her tightly, stroking the scales soothingly. Nagini hissed in approval moving around and stretching her body after such a long day.
This day was so long and overwhelming with all the people around and varying expectations thrown at him with heavy force. Harry tried not to catch those expectations, allowing them to slide off of him like it was nothing, but he wasn't prepared for the absurdity of it all, for the fact that everyone had some kind of opinion on Harry and they latched onto him like he was a delicious prey. Harry tried not think about it, he didn't want to give that power to anyone. But there was one expectation he still had to uphold.
"I know you want to meet your Master as soon as possible," Harry started, not sure how to convey his thoughts on the matter. He knew this day would come eventually but he didn't anticipate it to happen so soon. Nagini was… she wasn't his anything. He knew better than getting attached to people, or snakes for that matter. It was a temporary agreement between them, they both kept each other entertained, she was a good teacher, the best snake to talk to. He hadn't felt lonely in a while but now the looming prospect of saying goodbye irritated him in a way that he wanted to just hold her and relish the surprising warmth coming from a cold-blooded creature.
"Hatchling, I am not so impatient as to leave you now." Nagini hissed softly, as if reading his thoughts. Sometimes she did that, understanding Harry without words. "It is obvious I cannot leave right now, not with all the students here." When Harry looked up at her face, it practically said I am not dumb. It made Harry laugh under his breath.
"Yes, sure." Harry patted her head in amusement, "Were you able to narrow down the link though?"
"Yes." she hissed thoughtfully. "While it was confusing, I am confident it was coming from the High Table."
"So one of the professors then?"
Nagini bowed her head in a gesture Harry interpreted as a nod of confirmation.
"We will find him sooner or later. I guess, you just have to sit through the classes with me." Harry imagined it would be too boring for her but surely worth it.
"I will endure it." She assured him and so having at least some resemblance of a plan Harry could relax for the day. He tapped Nagini lightly and manoeuvred to break free from her hold. "Stay here, I still need to brush my teeth and change for the night."
Harry pushed back the hangings just enough to step out. Crabbe and Goyle were fast asleep, while Malfoy and Nott still chatted already in their pyjamas.
Harry called it brushing his teeth but in fact, he used a Bright Smile potion nowadays, one drop of it was supposed to be mixed with water in a cup, and rinsing his mouth with this mixture was enough for all the hygienic effects. Not actually living up to the name of a bright smile but still better than a muggle way. In the bathroom Zabini was doing the same, eyeing Harry curiously from the corner of his eye. Harry supposed it was a normal thing among wizards, something of a second nature to them. For him, it took several visits to Diagon Alley to stumble upon a tiny shop with these type of products, that apparently operated primarily through owl orders, and he had at least half a year to get used to it. He imagined, that if he actually had learned about magic just a month ago he would have been so painfully out of touch with the most basic things.
This simple action made Harry think about Dumbledore again, who so casually had thrown him out of the wizarding world just to throw back in the worst state of incompetence. What did Dumbledore expect of him? That Harry would be grateful, obedient, and eager to prove himself? That he would be uncomfortable in all the habits and rituals of the new world, so broken and shy, not daring to misstep and anticipating the praise? To further Dumbledore's agenda and be his symbol of Light?
"Well," Harry thought as he spat in the sink. "Dumbledore can go to hell."
In the morning Harry was in the mood for dressing up, which wasn't an easy task to do while wearing a school uniform. But there was a whole section in his trunk dedicated to all the different glasses he bought for himself. He reached for the pair he only recently found in a dingy shop in Knockturn Alley. They had a metallic rectangular rim that smoothly took form of intricate snakes entwined elegantly all the way to the temple tips. The decoration was beautifully done and it was perfect for Harry's mood. Despite being sold in an obscure shop in the dark alley, they weren't a dark object, just antique and spelled to accommodate the wearer's eyesight. Harry already owned several other magical pairs, some of them with additional spells woven in, like weather endurance, sunlight protection, or preservation from loosing them. These were quite simple in function but unique in style. He initially bought them with Nagini in mind, the little snakes reminding him of her, but now they seemed perfectly appropriate for his situation. He wished to rub in everyone's faces his sorting into Slytherin and, as a bonus, they suited him, making him stand out among other students with the same standard school robes.
"Nice glasses." commented Theodore Nott as they walked out of the dormitory. Draco's eyes widened momentarily but he didn't say anything. Blaise looked him over with something akin to sharp interest flashing in his eyes. Now that the morning seemed so much calmer than the previous evening Harry also had a chance to look at his peers more closely. He took note of their robes, the material recognisable as the highest quality not unlike Harry's own. Only Crabbe and Goyle seemed to have robes that didn't quite sit perfectly with sleeves either getting too short at the stretch or the edges getting wrinkled without them straightening out right away. Harry had a good eye in these things now after taking interest in varieties of clothes wizarding world offered and sometimes paying higher price wasn't for obvious reasons and of course, not everyone could afford it. While not perfect in every way Harry still could see that all the Slytherins were well off. By the look Zabini shot him, Harry guessed he estimated the same about him. Harry considered it a good sign because it gave him more leverage to fit in the House. While the boys weren't mean to him yet, almost friendly by Slytherin standards, Harry wasn't under the illusion that everyone else would give him the same pass. And if things were to turn over against Harry, the tentative peace will break in a flash of an eye.
Over the breakfast owls arrived carrying the Daily Prophet with a flashy headline "The Boy Who Lived is a Slytherin!" Underneath there was an article with almost panicked tone speculating if this was a mistake and where the Headmaster was looking to allow such a thing. Harry lifted his eyebrows in surprise.
"What Dumbledore could even do? Threaten a hat?"
"Ignore that," said Nott. "They were just so sure you'll be a Gryffindor, speculating about it relentlessly over the year's worth of issues."
"Don't they have anything better to write about?" Harry placed the newspaper on the table with a thud abandoning it for the sake of toast and jam.
"Apparently not. Better get used to it, they won't just give the Boy Who Lived a rest now that he's available to the public again." Pansy wrinkled her nose also smashing the newspaper on the table. "It was fun sometimes but here they make it sound like Slytherin is the lowest of places to be sorted in."
"Pansy, you know perfectly well what general public thinks about us. Don't act so surprised." Daphne replied, her eyes found Harry's, noticing the silvery snakes on his glasses, and she repeated what was already said yesterday. "You don't seem bothered though."
"I'm not the general public." Harry shrugged. "And if Slytherin was so bad, why do they even keep the House in the school at all? It's ridiculous." An ill coexistence confused him the same way Knockturn Alley was so easily accessed through Diagon Alley where anybody could just walk in and look, and find dark objects or prohibited items.
"Don't give them ideas, Potter." Bulstrode grumbled. "If it wasn't for Hogwarts magic preserving the tradition, they'd get rid of us easily given a chance."
Harry frowned. But then his features smoothed into a smug expression. "Now that I'm here, I would like to see them try." He smirked.
Draco shook his head, amused. Davis looked at Harry with distaste, "You better not regret it yourself."
"Will I have any reason to?" The question was simple enough but generated tension instantly. Everyone saw it for what it was. Davis only shrugged dismissively avoiding confrontation at the moment but not easing the tension one bit. Several senior students shot Harry their own looks of distaste.
Walking through Hogwarts between classes was an experience of its own. While he quickly got a hang of moving staircases, gliding ghosts and lively portraits, hushed whispers following whenever he went along with outright ogling kept Harry always on alert. He occasionally smiled and winked at star-struck girls, which Draco found equally revolting and hilarious. Hostile glares Harry was determined to ignore, most of the students were wary to come near Slytherins, so it helped. Only, not so much when it came to Ron Weasley. The boy acquired an angry hue of red on his face whenever he saw Harry, and glared daggers at him, trying to pick a fight, but Harry only ignored him which seemed to anger Weasley even more.
The classes went fine for the most part, as could be expected from the introductory lessons. Professors treated Harry the same as any other student, which probably wouldn't be the case in Potions. Harry just knew Professor Snape will find a way to single him out again, which was a pity because Harry actually was looking forward to Potions.
In Transfiguration McGonagall had this no nonsense approach that allowed no arguments and was equally stern with both Slytherins and Gryffindors. Granger beamed after receiving points for successful transformation of a match into a needle and Harry turned to his own match trying to determine what he did wrong. None of the Slytherins had much success as well but at least their matches twitched, or changed colour, or texture. Harry's remained still and unchanged despite his effortlessly perfect wand movements he already learned before. McGonagall even complimented him on this, encouraging that he was almost there and just more practice was needed.
History of Magic was absolutely boring. Harry wondered if it was even ethical to use a ghost as a professor but more importantly how exactly the goblin wars were of any use to them. Even the first-year book covered completely different material, so Harry just went on reading it again and making a mental note to bring other books next time. Herbology was a pleasant change of pace, working with plants was once Harry's favourite activity, and here it was just as calming and engaging. He paired up with Theodore Nott who surprisingly knew quite a bit about herbs and flowers.
Sharing classes with Gryffindors was always a nightmare though. Not only Ron kept pestering him, Granger started to get on his nerves too. He wasn't alone in that sentiment though, even Gryffindors found her overbearing with her constant desire to show off how smart she was. It earned her points from professors so Gryffindors didn't say anything while Slytherins shared annoyed looks between themselves. For the most part, they were also prepared for classes, but preferred to wait until asked. Nonetheless, their points steadily piled up over the week too.
By the time Potions rolled around Slytherin boys had this dynamic where they paired up differently for each class, with girls doing the same. Harry wondered at first why they were doing it, but eventually he learned to appreciate the notion, it was a natural way to get to know each other without making anyone feel left out or becoming oppressively friendly, they all had their strengths and weaknesses in different subjects and sooner or later they might settle for more permanent partnerships in order to balance it out. The Slytherins cared for their reputation, despite all the nonsense people thought about them. Discipline and studies were something they could control and this approach was in agreement with Harry's own standards for learning, so he could only be glad how well Slytherins seemed to cooperate on the matter.
Unlike Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape wasn't fair, he clearly favoured Slytherins, giving them points for every correct answer without acknowledging the same from Gryffindors, instead taking them out for every little mistake. Not that any of the Slytherins complained. Harry was even able to relax after Snape's impromptu interrogation that earned him 15 points on top of double the amount of Snape's hateful glares.
The first potion they were assigned to do was a simple cure for boils, which Harry already made several times on his own. His first attempts weren't great and sometimes outright awful when he tried to experiment and see what happens, but the last time he tried to brew it a month ago, he even achieved a perfect pink smoke that raised from the cauldron. So now he wasn't too worried about it even if Snape was looming nearby with his black cloak sweeping threateningly. Harry was chopping ingredients with practised ease, Draco beside him seemed to be experienced in potion brewing as well, so Snape's attention soon switched to Gryffindors, Neville Longbottom in particular. The poor boy was interchangeably pale and red, too terrified to do anything in Snape's presence. Constant yelling and snapping didn't help, resulting in a small explosion and minus 10 points from Gryffindor.
While the steps for brewing required stirring and waving a wand, Harry learned how to get the same effect wandlessly but now he wasn't in a hurry to show off this particular skill allowing Draco to do it instead. The final result was the best Harry had seen so far, impeccable even, if he had any say in it, and when Snape came over to their cauldron his eyes twitched, a conflicted expression on his face.
"Adequate." Snape concluded and without missing the beat awarded another 5 points to Slytherin. All in all, the Potion class turned out to be not so bad.
Harry was in the library at the far corner hiding from all the attention he still received from students, some of whom went as far as to point fingers at him like he was some kind of zoo animal, so he just needed some peace for a change. The first week of school also meant the first pile of homework accumulating, and Harry decided to be done with it as soon as possible, concentrating on his Charms essay at the moment. He wasn't quite used to writing with quills yet. His handwriting left much to be desired as it was, quills and parchments making everything more challenging.
He was in the middle of rewriting his abysmal draft on a clean parchment with patience that almost brought him to a meditative state when somebody sat across him. Harry lifted his eyes and saw two red-haired twins who propped their chins on one hand, mirroring each other, and looked at Harry with cheery curiosity. Harry tensed. Weasley twins were notorious for misbehaving, playing pranks on everyone, and so far Harry considered himself lucky he only had to hear about them and not experience first hand. Their brother was unhappy about Harry all week, so this couldn't possibly be anything good.
"Hello, Harry." one of them started, voice gleeful.
"I'm Fred." another one joined in.
"And I'm George."
Harry nodded trying to find something to differentiate them by but to no avail at first glance.
"We heard our Ronickins gave you trouble."
"You know, he was so upset you ended up in Slytherin."
"He was devastated."
Harry looked carefully at them, but their tone wasn't malicious, expressions relaxed.
"But we-"
"-don't care."
"Actually, we thought-"
"-it was hilarious!"
"Like the biggest prank of a century!"
"So we wanted to let you know-"
"-that you have our outmost respect!" the twins finished each other's sentences beaming at Harry and looking almost proud.
They leaned in closer, as if sharing a secret.
"And don't mind our brother."
"He'll reach acceptance stage eventually."
"Just give him time."
"He'll come round."
"Maybe in a year."
"Or two."
There was a pause and Harry finally was able to put his answer in, "Okay." He didn't really care what Ron thought of him. The twins shared a pensive look.
"So if you ever need some help."
"With Ron."
"Or other Gryffindors."
"You can count on us."
"We don't mind Slytherins."
"And you seem like a fun guy." Harry lifted an eyebrow at that, the twins chuckled.
"Well, maybe not as fun-"
"-as us."
"But all the shocked faces wherever you do something-"
"-like extremely normal."
"But not what everyone expects."
"It's fun." they looked completely serious now, only mischievous glint in their eyes betraying their light-hearted mood.
"I see." Involuntarily, Harry found himself smiling. "I'm glad I managed to amuse you and I'll keep in mind your offer."
Fred and George shared a look again and laughed. Each of them patted Harry on the shoulder at either side and then got up, throwing Harry cheeky smiles as they left. Harry looked back at his half-rewritten essay and blinked trying to focus on the task again. The bouncing conversation left him a bit dizzy but by and large quite pleased.
Flying lesson was something Draco was eagerly waiting all week, he talked Harry's ear off about all kinds of broomsticks, Quidditch rules and the rush you get while flying. Nott and Zabini always joined in the discussion, pointing out different teams and either arguing or agreeing on which of the teams had better players. Harry tried to keep track of the conversation but found his focus eventually slipping up. The only thing that was exciting about the topic was the possibility of actually flying.
The class was joined once again with Gryffindors and some of them seemed pretty anxious, including Granger, who for once wasn't in her element. Madam Hooch gave out the instructions and everyone shouted "Up!" trying to summon the nearby broomsticks into their hands. Malfoy and Zabini were successful on the first try, while other Slytherins took several attempts to get the hang of it.
"Up." Harry said outstretching his hand and willing the broom to go into his hand. It neither required a spell nor a wand movement so Harry concentrated on what he was used to with wandless magic, or in his case, his experience with Parselmagic. So far it always worked whenever Nagini was involved, so after a dozen of still unsuccessful tries he closed his eyes imagining a long snake instead of a broom handle, the tingling sensation coursing up his hand, intent clear in his mind. The broom jumped into his hand before he even uttered "Up."
Without losing the sensation Harry held the broom waiting for further instructions from Professor to try actually flying, but before she could explain Neville shot up in the air and just as quickly fell on the ground resulting in the broken wrist. Harry let go of his broom as Madam Hooch took the boy away to the hospital wing and sat on the ground content to rest under the bright sun. He closed his eyes conjuring images of snakes in his mind again but not sending any intent to his magic.
Suddenly, there was a commotion and Harry opened his eyes to see Ron Weasley bickering with Malfoy over the ball that apparently Longbottom left behind, it was the Remembrall his grandmother sent him so he wouldn't forget things. Truthfully, Harry thought that it was a useless thing but the way Malfoy acted so pointlessly mean, reminded Harry of Dudley who he blissfully forgot about thus far. Harry stood up just as Ron flopped face first in the mud in his futile attempt to stop Malfoy. Draco, boisterous and smug, circled up in the air laughing tauntingly. When he reached the ground Harry walked to him.
"Malfoy, give it back." he said in an almost bored tone but firm.
"What." Malfoy looked at Harry incredulously. "Are you sticking up for Gryffindors?"
"No." he answered evenly. "You can embarrass Weasley all you like but that thing, give it back."
Draco smirked at him, "Why do you care?"
Harry looked up in the sky as if searching for a reason, then shrugged. "I don't think Mrs Longbottom would be happy about it." Harry didn't want to bring up Snape because Malfoy so far managed to actually avoid getting caught despite breaking the rules. It was somewhat well known though, that Lucius Malfoy threaded on a thin ice when dealing with Mrs Longbottom in politics, so if Malfoy was smart enough he would take a clue. Realisation flashed in his gray eyes and the smirk vanished.
"Fine." he said placing the Remembrall in Harry's hand resolutely. "But only because my father won't be happy to hear about it."
"Sure." Harry took the ball and put it in his pocket just as Madam Hooch returned. Having seen the aftermath of commotion she deducted points from Gryffindor because Weasley so obviously attempted flying without her supervision. Ron tried to tell on Malfoy but his explanation was a jumbled mess while Draco was perfectly put together, not a hint of transpired bullying.
The class continued as if nothing happened. None of the instructions Madam Hooch gave helped Harry to take off and fly. But once he imaged the snakes again and let the magic course through him, he lifted himself up a couple metres off the ground, but the experience wasn't as freeing as he thought it would be. Harry had a sinking feeling that this wasn't the way it was supposed to work at all, the intent he fixated on and the magic itself steadily weighing him down.
On the way back to the dungeons Harry went to the hospital wing, placing the Remembrall on Neville's bedside table and leaving without a word, the boy restlessly sleeping dozed with no small amount of recovering potions.
Stepping into the Slytherin Common room Harry was met with multiple eyes turned on him. There were more students out there than usual, all of them sharing some sort of agreement, shooting subtle glances back and force. Some groups were doing homework at the tables, others just reading a book or lounging in their sits. But the objective why they all gathered was obvious to Harry, he stood at the door, waiting. This was bound to happen sooner or later, and he was ready to face whatever they wanted to throw at him.
"So, Potter," Tracey Davis started. "Draco says you are his friend, but are you?"
Harry looked over to find Malfoy among other first-years on the couch near the fireplace. Draco tried to look disinterested but there was a sharp glint in his eyes, his posture upright.
"I guess." Harry said simply, not elaborating and walking over to sit in the armchair near Blaise Zabini. He refused to act like this was some kind of interrogation where Harry was a suspect. If this were to be a normal conversation between peers Harry should be relaxed, not hovering at the door like a sore thumb.
Davis watched him getting closer like a predator. Harry turned to Malfoy. "Is this about Longbottom's Remembrall? You aren't actually mad at me over it?"
Draco shifted and shrugged. "I'm not."
"But we all saw it happen." Bulstrode supplied. "Why would you help a Gryffindor? And this fat looser, of all people."
"Bulstrode," Harry tried to sound surprised, biting back a remark on her own appearance. "Am I not allowed to have other friends?"
"Not if they are Gryffindors!" At that Harry's eyebrows shot up.
"I will decide that on my own, thank you very much."
Davis was full-on angry now. "You should know your place, Potter! Oh, maybe you're going to be a muggle-loving fanatic as well?"
Harry sat back completely unperturbed, resting his hands on the chair's armrests to visibly take more place.
"I know my place." his voice calm but confident. "What are muggles have to do with anything?"
"Weren't you living with muggles before Hogwarts?" Daphne asked, she wasn't angry but her demeanour dangerous, ready to strike.
"So?" Harry lifted an eyebrow just to show he couldn't be bothered.
"Aren't there any attachments you have to them?" Parkinson sounded more genuinely curious than accusing.
Harry shrugged uncaring. "Muggles can be useful."
"How so?" It was Blaise who asked this time.
"They have basic skills." Someone chuckled at his choice of words. Harry looked around. While only first-years were talking, senior students listened attentively, prepared to take part in the conversation at any time. Harry noticed the prefect Avery at the other end of the room watching Harry with a somewhat disturbing smile, as if he was anticipating a great show and wasn't going to stop it even though he could. The majority of Slytherins had similar expressions, the other prefect Farley sat to the side seemingly uninterested.
"Like what?" Pansy now looked at him with wide eyes as if anticipating hearing an engaging story about a peculiar animal.
"Well, I wasn't starved and had a roof over my head." He said flatly, aware of how disappointing that response was to some.
Tracey Davis latched onto him again. "You sound so distant but I saw you cuddling lovingly with your muggle auntie. How do you explain that?"
Harry was sure he didn't have to explain anything, he scowled in displeasure.
"She went through a lot recently, you know. Pretty sure, she would never recover. I actually doubt she'd handle me being away." He answered without really answering but taking a chance to make Petunia's upcoming death seem less unpredictable.
"Ha!" Pansy exclaimed. "And you just left her alone for the alluring wizarding world?"
"In a heartbeat." Despite Pansy asking, Harry looked straight at Tracey Davis making sure his point went across. Davis squirmed under his gaze, her anger subsiding.
"Ah, well. Maybe you are not so attached to her but you still have to abandon your muggle ways."
"I don't have any muggle ways." He crossed his arms. "Not the ones that would interfere with the wizarding ways, as far as I'm aware," he paused, tapping a finger on his chin thoughtfully. "And you could always teach me, I am willing to learn."
Slytherins shared a look. At this point someone from the fifth-year stepped in. Harry recognised Marcus Flint. "So you accept that muggles are beneath us?"
"Are they?" Harry knew this already, but wanted to hear what Slytherins had to say, and it was fun to get on their nerves. Everyone looked so serious like it was a grave responsibility to peer-pressure a famous first-year. Several older Slytherins decided to reply.
"They are like dirt not even worthy of standing in our presence."
"Mudbloods taint our society."
"Yeah, they are the worst."
Harry listened patiently weighing his options, and settling on a factual truth.
"My mother was a muggleborn." He didn't wince at the derogatory term but chose not to use it himself. His statement lacked any emotion, he knew it was hard to tell whether he was offended or opposed to Slytherins' statements.
"Yeah, we heard she was a strong witch."
"But still a mudblood."
"They are so adamant to teach us about their muggle culture."
"Not even trying to properly learn ours."
They glared at Harry, despite him announcing that he was willing to do just that.
"My father was a pureblood though." Another fact without any particular point, Harry wanted to see where Slytherins stood on this one.
"That would make you a half-blood."
Harry couldn't argue with that so he allowed a relaxed smile. "That doesn't sound half bad."
Pansy outright laughed. "Potter, I admit, you aren't half bad either."
Tracey frowned exchanging looks with Bulstrode, their expressions weren't hostile anymore.
"As long as you are willing to learn." Daphne concluded and everyone seemed to relax by a fraction, but the overall tension still remained.
Harry turned to Draco. "So, friends?" Malfoy chuckled waving a hand at him.
"Of course." And then as if he felt the need to explain himself in front of all the Slytherins added, "Don't get me wrong Potter. My father would be proud I'm friends with you."
"Oh?" Harry didn't sound surprised one bit. "Doesn't he hate me?"
"What are you talking about?"
Harry sent him a look, and glancing over the room for a moment, decided to breech that subject while they were at it. "You don't actually think anyone believes he wasn't a Death Eater, do you?"
Some of the Slytherins gave Harry disbelieving looks, their eyes widening, but Draco just smirked, "Huh, I see you aren't naive, Potter. But my father is a politician, he doesn't operate with hate."
"Cool." Harry smiled back at him in understanding.
"Oh, oh. Potter, don't tell me you are actually okay with this." A forth-year girl voiced what probably many of them thought.
"Little Boy Who Lived cooperating with Death Eaters. Don't make me laugh!" Laughs filled the room at that.
"You think just because you are one of us we won't eat you alive?"
"What will your mama say if she heard you?"
"I bet Dumbledore will still find a way to twist your brain."
"He must be so disappointed you turned up here, but he'll just jump into making you a spy."
"Yeah! Why should we trust you, Potter?"
"Little first-years can be all lovey-dovey with you all they want, but you still represent the very thing we abhor."
"You can't possibly be a Slytherin."
"Son of a mudblood."
"Should feel lucky we're even talking to you."
It was like a dam had broken. Once started, everyone seemed to have a thing to say. Harry let them get it out of their system waiting for a silence to settle. He didn't want to rely on Nagini at first but with the way this was going Harry knew that Slytherins will always find a problem with him one way or another, even though his fellow first-years seemed to accept him so far, listening to everything with bated breaths. The prefects weren't participating but haven't moved to stop anyone either. Harry propped his chin on one hand, appearing deeply interested and bored at the same time, trying to keep himself from rolling his eyes at some statements. When, at last, the flood of demeaning commentary stopped, Harry sighed.
"I apologize," he straightened up and nudged Nagini. "We've been sitting here so long, she needs to flex her muscles."
"What?" — "Who?"
The dumbfounded expressions quickly changed into fearful when they saw a snake emerging from Harry's sleeve.
"Bloody hell, Potter! What is that?" The boy who was the most aggressive towards Harry just a minute ago now looked the most terrified.
"A snake." He didn't say my snake because Nagini wasn't his. Others joined in the panic.
"We can see that! Why the hell did you bring it here?"
"What if it's poisonous?"
"She is." Harry confirmed looking very serious now.
"Are you out of your mind?"
"What if it bites someone?"
"She won't if I don't ask her." All the while Nagini was curling around Harry's arm and he gave no indication that anything was amiss.
"What? You think you can just ask?"
Instead of answering Harry took a moment to look at their apprehensive faces, inwardly pleased with the effect Nagini caused. But she was just a small snake now and they already were so afraid.
"Didn't expect Slytherins of all people to be scared of a little snake." Harry stroked Nagini affectionately and leaned closer to her. "Nagini, return to your size." He watched in satisfaction how the Slytherins looked positively terrified at her body getting bigger and longer until she slithered down to the floor, her tail lingering on Harry's lap. "Scare them off a little, just do not bite."
Nagini lazily moved closer to one of the most terrified boys, Slytherins stepping away from her way in shock.
"Woah! Potter, tell her to stop!" The boy backed away, hiding over the armchair. "Tell her to stop!"
Harry looked bored and took his time before saying, "Stop, Nagini. Come here." She turned around and settled on Harry's lap once again, and he readily stroked her shining black scales.
There was shocked silence for a brief moment and then, "Wait. You can speak Parseltongue?" It was Davis now watching Harry with a calculating look.
"Yes." He narrowed his eyes at her daring to say something against it.
"But how is it possible?"
He ignored the question instead highlighting the main point. "Like I said, she won't bite." He turned his gaze to the older Slytherins again, taking in the prevailing apprehension in the room. "Unless I ask her." Some of them flinched but everyone seemed to get the implication: do not mess with me.
"Wow." Breathed Crabbe breaking the tension.
"Yeah." Goyle looked almost star-struck, not alone in this sentiment.
Someone whistled, "Now that. That will definitely warrant being in Slytherin." There were nervous laughs and the oppressing atmosphere soon faded away.
"Wait till I tell my father!" Draco grinned.
"Ah, about that." Harry looked over seriously. "Don't let it spread beyond the Slytherin House."
"But father was in Slytherin."
Harry left his answer open to interpretation, "I know."
Defence Against the Dark Arts was the most anticipated class among all the first-years and thus the most disappointing. It turned out to be a complete joke. Harry would have agreed with this if not for Nagini's insistent harsh hisses that she sensed her Master closer than ever. It never happened in any other class before so Harry was watching the stuttering professor the entire time in a new light. Of course, the class would be a joke if it was supposed to be a disguise to lower any suspicion the Dark Lord himself was here at Hogwarts. And by the looks of it, the disguise worked.
The students rushed to head out of the classroom, not looking forward to coming back the next time. Harry stood gathering his things slowly and when Draco looked questioningly, he shook his head.
"Don't wait for me, I'd like to clarify something."
Draco looked sceptical but didn't pry, only nodded and left with other Slytherins. Harry waited until everyone else was out as well, leaning over his desk casually with crossed arms and observing Professor Quirrell, who tried to stack parchments into a pile but failing miserably due to shaking hands.
When he noticed that Harry was the only student in the classroom, he stuttered, "Mr P-poter. D-do you have any questions?"
"Yes." Harry simply said not providing anything more just as Nagini appeared climbing over Harry's head. "Master." she hissed and Quirrell nearly fainted at the sight of the snake.
Harry rolled his eyes, "Perhaps it would be best to lock the door." The man shakily reached for the wand to do as suggested. From the wand movements Harry could see some silencing charms thrown as well.
Harry told Nagini to return to her original size and she vigorously uncoiled in her full body slithering over Harry to the floor and only stopping when it was but a meter before the man.
"Master." she hissed again. "I cannot be mistaken. It is you."
There was a sensation of jarring silence dropping simultaneously with a loud ache exploding in Harry's scar.
He watches in fascination how Quirrell's eyes turn red. Harry doesn't allow the pain to distract him, enduring it barely aware that he is holding his breath.
"Nagini." the man hisses.
"Yes-s." she practically purrs in a hissed equivalent.
Crimson eyes shoot up at Harry. "Potter."
"The one and only." The scar hurts even more and Harry keeps his distance still standing near the desk. Nagini starts to coil around the man now, his hand as if on reflex wraps around Nagini but the red eyes fixate on Harry.
"Potter," he repeats.
"Voldemort," Harry replies, nodding in greeting.
After several moments of staring, his gaze turns from Harry, levelling up Nagini instead. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Do not be angry, Master. Harry is a good hatchling. Listen to him, he can speak." Voldemort once again looks at Harry quizzically.
"She means I can speak with her. Just like you."
There is shock in red eyes. "How is it possible?"
"I have no idea." Harry finally takes a step from the desk approaching Voldemort.
"Nagini is a very good companion, I am almost jealous she is yours."
"You flatter me, hatchling."
"Nagini…" Voldemort starts, barely containing himself from anger, "Explain yourself."
Harry studies Voldemort, his red eyes in a body of a pitiful man and doesn't quite see the person he heard so much from Nagini. There is a shadow of a man, filled to the brim with anger and visible madness. Harry has a feeling that only Nagini firmly curling around him stops Voldemort from trying to kill Harry on a spot, if the pain in his scar is any indication.
Nagini isn't in a hurry to explain anything despite the direct order so Harry asks. "Will you listen?"
Voldemort doesn't grant him an answer solely focusing on Nagini. And she starts hissing everything from the moment she began searching for her Master and how she stumbled upon Harry. Understandably, there is too much to tell so she omits the details about Dursleys and what Harry was up to, only indicating that they stood by each other the whole time and do not have hard feelings.
Voldemort listens turning his gaze from Nagini to Harry but keeps stroking Nagini fondly. The anger seemingly subsiding now but Harry's scar still throbbing.
Harry can hear his heart thumping in his ears. Is it fear? Apprehension? Excitement? Harry struggles to place it and it is distracting. He subtly takes a deep breath and brings forward his Occlumency shield, observing the situation from an outside perspective. He is standing in front of Voldemort, or some version of Voldemort that exists in a body of his Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Nagini, now in her real size, coils around said professor hissing with utter happiness that Harry never heard from her before. A perfectly normal situation. Briefly Harry closes his eyes and breathes out, and opens his eyes projecting absolute calm.
Voldemort still watched him with severe intensity but this time Harry didn't waver.
He stepped closer meeting his eyes with defiance. Whatever Voldemort had against him, Harry was prepared to hear it out.
"To think that the Boy Who Lived isn't dancing to Dumbledore's tune," Voldemort sneered, there was no humour in his tone. "So tell me the truth, who are you siding with?"
"I am not your enemy and I am willing to talk." Harry pointedly said in Parseltongue.
"Are you willing to help me?"
"It depends." Harry didn't shrug even though he was tempted to. What he was sure of was that he won't just jump and dance to anyone's tune.
"On what?" Voldemort kept his attention on Harry's every move, every change in expression. Harry stayed collected.
"What exactly do you want from me and what is in it for me."
On one hand, with Nagini's fond recollections of Voldemort it was almost natural to fall into their agreement of cooperation, of helping each other out and inevitably being by her side also could mean being on Voldemort's side. But not really. Harry never said it outright, never professed loyalties, he didn't owe anyone anything.
On the other hand, Voldemort killed Harry's parents, tried to kill Harry for an unknown reason and actually attempted it. Harry won't be taking credit for defeating the Dark Lord just as he won't be sorry about almost killing him in return and definitely not for staying alive. They both lived, that score was settled as far as Harry was concerned.
Now though, Voldemort implied that he needed his help. Harry glanced at Nagini tucked at the man's hands. He could agree for her. He could easily express this way how valuable she was to him.
But. No.
This was between Harry and Voldemort.
The issue now was that it went beyond a simple help to find Nagini's Master, Harry was far from naive. This time it meant helping the Dark Lord to rise at full force. Technically he already helped Nagini to realise her wish, she found her Master. That's what they both agreed to. Harry didn't have to go further and help her Master too. Who wished Harry dead and could easily try killing him again given the opportunity. Letting this man return his body and allowing him power was like signing his own death sentence. For now Harry chose to be careful.
Voldemort didn't answer, consumed by rage. With this temper Harry doubted any sensible dialogue would be possible at all. Nagini seemed to pacify his furious emotions, hissing reassuring words. She didn't mention her unusual connection to Harry yet or many other things. Probably it was for the best for now, Voldemort didn't seem in a state to be reasoned with. Harry's scar hurt constantly and it took him all his willpower not to wince every time the pain struck with severe sharpness.
At this point Voldemort wasn't even eyeing Harry anymore, distracted by Nagini's whispers. Harry suddenly felt out of place. It occurred to him that he wasn't actually needed for this conversation.
When Voldemort flashed his burning eyes at him again, Harry had to take hold of a nearby chair to steady himself.
"Stop being so angry all the time!" he snapped.
It was the first time he ever raised his voice and he didn't like it, the angry presence of Voldemort no doubt affecting his emotions. Harry tried to calm down through the ringing in his ears, the pain across the scar almost unbearable now only intensifying after his outburst. Harry didn't hear what Voldemort or Nagini replied to him, he went to the door willing it to unlock and left without looking back.