Once again I must stress that if you have any questions, comments, requests, ect. or would like to try your hand at my stories, drop me a review or pm. I would love to hear from you. And thank you to the two people who have reviewed, your comments on Lord Ravenclaw were much appreciated.

Ok, third story for the set, and since they were small enough I included the short intro and the first chapter already done.

The Story is :The Spoils of War. Name comes from the trait Harry picks up from his mentor, trophy collecting. Teeth, feathers, wands, artifacts, ect. They are a MAJOR part of the plot of the story. I'll give a small spoiler for example: the sword of Gryffindor. Most people think it makes Harry over powered, I on the other hand think; "Geez, this wizard who created a fully conscience hat that is able to invade the mind of others and seemingly cant be stopped yet his sword is special because someone else made it that way? I think not!" Gryffindor was an adventurer and in this story it would reflect that. Being wacked in the nads or getting his legs tangled up because Harry wont go looking for adventure seems the kind of thing Godric's sword would do.

To put it bluntly, Harry is not evil and only slightly dark. I would phrase it rather as following the low road. He's a survivor, not a hero. He wont be learning fifteen different kinds of martial arts or using magic that no one else in his generation would ever have a chance of using. In fact, magic wise, hes going to have one single branch of magic- eventual parsalmagic- that he will use and others wont. Skill wise he will be good though. You don't need to know how to use martial arts to survive…. Knowing how to throw a punch and not break your hand is quite useful though.

Prologue

Briskly walking between the tents of the carnival a man can be seen, wearing a nearly all black outfit and a dark blue duffle bag strapped around his chest. Nice worn boots, black slacks, and a shirt that fits tight over him, though that is how it was made, and shows off his muscles and gives plenty of freedom of movement. Usually there would a nice loose cloak over the outfit, hiding the two gun's, multiple knives, handcuff's, ammo, pepper spray, and several other strange objects, none of which looked like they fit in the rest of his arsenal. After all, why would a couple of stick's, a yoyo, and a golden cup be hanging from his belt, right next a grenade?

Though muscular the skin of the man's goateed face was stretched tight, giving him a near skeletal look and the ends of his fingers, which could be seen through the cut off gloves, were also similarly boney, though covered in calluses.

From time to time he would look back, almost as if he was being followed, which was highly likely, seeing as whom he was. Personally he wasn't too worried. Yes he had been seen, yes it was from a member of the Ministry, and yes, he had taken something from a bank right before he had been seen. But he was him! He was invincible…

Finally reaching the car lot he saw a small family of four getting into their car, though the father yelled at the last to wipe his feet before he got in. Taking his chance he ran up and, just as the child was standing up, grabbed the boy, spinning as he did so and pulling both of them into the back seat of the car.

With that same fluid motion he snapped his arm out, releasing a knife from his forearm. "Hello family!" he said cheerfully with his deep raspy voice.

The large man driving the car turned purple as he turned around, ready to yell before he saw the knife, while his wife just fainted. Pointing the knife at the small boy in his arms he ordered the man, "Drive out of here, we're going to your house!"

Seeing the stranger put the weapon to his freak of a nephew's throat Vernon Dursly couldn't help but smile. He could kill two birds with one stone here. Get rid of the abomination, protect his family, and maybe even get a reward for capturing a criminal.

Seeing the smile on the man's face the man moved quickly, spinning the knife and moving his arm so it lay against the neck of the larger of the two boy's neck. Seeing the smile slip off the man's face he frowned, "Drive." He said flatly.

Once they were off the fair grounds he relaxed a little. None of the Auror's would look for him in a car packed with muggle's. Turning his head he looked down at the boy he had originally held the knife to. He seemed oddly familiar, though he didn't know why. Messy hair that stuck up in the back and came down far enough to cover his forehead in the front, strangely small, loose baggy clothes… Like every other teen you meet these days, though he couldn't be more than six. "Your father doesn't like you very much does he?" he asked with a little chuckle on his voice, absently noticing the darkening color of the large man's skin.

"He's… He's my uncle… My parents are dead." The boy replied downcast eye's. Apparently he had seen the smile on his uncles face too.

"Meh." He said with a shrug, looking out the back window real quick, though that was more of a nervous tick at this point than actual worry. He had been on the run for years, "Dead they may be, but gone they are not. They simply await you on the other side of the Veil." Every good pureblood knew that much, no harm in letting a wee muggle kid know it.

"The Veil?" he asked, looking up at the man curiously, "What's the Veil?" Vernon had turned a interesting shade of magenta at this point.

"Stop asking question's boy!" he yelled, not used to the child being so inquisitive in years.

Slapping the back of the man's head, making the car swerve slightly, he turned to the boy. "The Veil is what divides the world of the living from the world of the dead." He answered, noticing the boy's aunt's eye's fluttering open. "When out body's die Death comes to us all and leads us into the world beyond the Veil."

"Sounds nicer than what I've been told about death." He murmured demurely.

The man smiled a bit at that, it really did sound better than what some others believed, "And what have you bee told?" he asked softly. He really did have a soft spot for children, he had to admit, though he was never gifted with one himself and didn't plan on staying still long enough to have one any time soon.

"That they were burning in hell with all the rest of the witches and that I'd be burning right next to them for the rest of eternity." The boy responded, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary.

Pulling the knife away from the fat childs neck he pointed it at his aunt, looking on with incredulous eyes, "Why the HELL would you tell a child THAT!?" he asked, outraged. "He's only a boy!"

Looking him straight in the eye's Petunia answered honestly from the heart, "No he's not. He's a filthy freak, just like his parent's."

Without looking away his arm moved, smashing into Dudley's face three time's, the first breaking his jaw, the second his nose, and the third on the forehead, stunning him, "Do not touch the wand's kid." He said before raising the knife back to the horse like woman, noticing, as the car swerved, her eye's widen when he said 'wand.'

"Magic." He said, getting a small gasp from the woman. He bellowed, "You're a freaking Squib!" he laughed, sitting back into his seat, "So the boy's parents were a Witch and Wizard then?" he asked, getting no response from the woman, who appeared to have gone into shock. Looking down at the boy in question he saw a wide eye's and creased brow. "Right, more of that later."

It was minutes later that the boy had bent forward to look at Dudley, with his now smashed in face.

"What did you do to him?" Harry asked.

The man smiled at the childish curiosity. "A simple three hits with the back of the hand. You see hit certain parts of the body and you get certain results. The face and head in particularly vulnerable. Hit the eye's and they can't see, the nose and it becomes harder to breath, the jaw and it's harder for them to call out, the forehead and you can stun them a little. I got the jaw, nose, and forehead."

Seeing him smile he sat back, noticing they had pulled into a particularly nice neighborhood.

When they pulled up to number four Privet Drive he felt like wanted to puke. This was everything he HATED about muggles, right here. So normal, so plain, so… boring. Not to mention abusive, if they had actually told the boy that about his parents.

The boy…

Now that they said that the parents were magical he had to admit, he was curious. Did he know them? He couldn't have been born more than a year or two before the Dark Lords fall… hmmm.

Ushering them into the house he had them all sit on the floor while he took the couch. Looking down on them he asked, "Okay family, what's your name? Hmm?" when there was no forthcoming answer he sighed, "Fine I'll start, my name is Rabastan Lestrange. You are?" he gestured for one of them to answer, though none of the three largest there would answer.

"Their the Dursly's." came a little voice from behind Dudley, who nearly eclipsed the young boy completely.

"Oh?" Rabastan said with a quirked eyebrow, quickly thinking of any magical with the name Dursly, "They are? And what of you, my little wizard? You are not a Dursly then?" the boy's was infuriatingly familiar, why!

"No, my aunt and uncle wouldn't adopt me, my last name is Potter." the boy said calmly, looking at the older man with an interested look.

Lestrange's taut face would have slackened if it was capable of doing so, though years of little food and overly much time to exercise and practice had taken away nearly all the fat from his body, leaving him with enough to live.

"Harry Potter…. My, my, my… what and interesting meeting fate has put before us." His eye's did not blink, his gaze did not waver, he just stared at the boy, now recognizing the messy hair of his youngest sisters killer and the green penetrating eye's that had been on charms mistress who crafted some of the most devastating spells used during the war. Putting his hand forward he brushed aside the boy's hair, not realizing he was now off the couch and bent over in front of the child.

The silence in the room was deafening.

And there was the scar from surviving the killing curse. The place where he had reflected the attack back at his master…

Abruptly he stood, he had left that life behind long ago. There was no more Dark Lord, there was no more Lestrange family either as far as the world was concerned. "Goodbye Harry Potter, it was a pleasure meeting you." And with that he walked for the door.

Harry never knew why he did what he did next, even when he eventually learned Occlumency years later. Perhaps it was because the man had answered more question's than any of his family had. Or maybe because he had smiled at Harry in way that no one else ever had, not even his teachers or the school nurse or even Ms. Figg, the nice if strange lady that lived down the street. Maybe it was just the fact that the man had known his first name without ever being told. Or that he apparently had magic. Or that he appeared to be strong. Or a million other reason's he would come up with over the years.

"Wait!" he yelled, standing up, running after the man, "Take me with you!" he asked desperately, grabbing onto the man's arm.

To Harry's amazement he didn't shake him off the arm, instead grabbing on to the boy's arms and pulling him up to eye level. "Why should I do that?" he asked, looking greatly troubled. 'Why would I want too? Why do I want too?' "A man needs to look out for themselves in this world. He needs to be strong and depend on no one but themselves and worry about no one but themselves." Just as father had trained him and Rodolphus, not that they had listened to him when it came to one another or the dark lord… at least not until the end that is. "If I take you with me then I have to protect you, risk myself for you, and I might not be as strong as I need to be… So Why should I bother?"

Looking the man in the eye's Harry was not a scared as he should have been, "Because I can be strong too! I can help you. I…" he choked here, "I can promise, you won't have to worry about me ever! If I'm not good enough then you can feed me to the dog's! Please," he begged, "Take me with you."

Off in the distance Rabastan could hear the sounds of siren's. Looking into the living room he saw Petunia was no longer sitting down on the floor. He could have seen this as a sign of things to come in years to come, why he never trusted another, why he usually shot first and asked question's later. Instead he made a decision.

Letting the boy go he walked towards the window. "Is there a back door?" he asked, Harry.

"Yeah, though the kitchen. My uncle just took money out of the bank today to do grocery shopping too, he should have a few hundred pounds in his wallet. He's got a shotgun upstairs too if you want it." He listed off, watching as the first car pulled up into the lawn before he felt an arm on his shoulder, pulling him away from the window.

"No time for the gun." He said as he kicked Vernon, who had been attempting to stand, in the back. Reaching down he pulled out the wallet, throwing it to the boy, "Hold on to that, don't lose it, and keep up." And with that he took off for the back of the house, Harry not far behind.

Both of them were able to jump the low fence into the next yard no problem before Harry spoke up, "This way!" He whispered loudly, leading the man between two houses, "If we can get to the park unseen we'll be able to walk through the woods almost all the way to Ockham common And follow the A3 into Greater London… After that though I'm lost."

"Good enough." The older man muttered before he and Harry ran across the street into the wooded park.

---

'And so the whole world shall be lit aflame.'

---

One weeks later

Spain, some ways northwest of Cariño,

---

One week… So much had happen in one week. Harry had seen things he had never expected to see and even some things he had thought weren't even real.

Like magic.

Looking across the fire at the man he had followed from his 'home,' he thought about magic. After four hours of running that night they had stopped for a break, when he had seen his first bit of magic; conjuration.

Using one of the two wands that dangled from his waist Rabastan had conjured himself a thin loose cloak to hide his weapon's and other objects. He had then done something to Harry's clothing when he noticed the boy was still with him, if breathing quite hard. The sweater had tightened and the pants had shortened and his shoe's seemed to blow up, seeing as they were more duct tape than shoe, forcing the man to laugh before conjuring him some shoes too.

It had been amazing… though jacking a lift from a small family of three after they had reached the road had not been fun… That little girl just stared at him before muttering something, listing off multiplication's tables it heard like… Rab had been amused by the bushy haired girl before saying random numbers to throw her off.

After that they had gone, not east to London, but west to the middle of nowhere. Rab had explained that they needed to get lost before they could hop off the island. Three days after that, and not a lot of talking during which, they had taken a two day trip in a smelly and creaky old fishing boat to Cariño, Spain.

They had arrived late last night and had spent the night gathering supplies with the money they had gotten off of Vernon…

Oh, how good it felt to be free of that man! Sure he had read the posting looking for information on him and Rab, but still he was free.

They had head out from Cariño at three and after a little walking had reached their current campsite. Over the flames was their dinner, boiling away in what appeared to be a collapsible cauldron. Strange that. Across from him Rab was whittling away at one of two sticks he had picked up on their way out here. The first had been done while they were walking.

"Potter!" Lestrange called, his dark eye's looking like solid jet as Harry met them. "Come here boy. Take off your shirt and pant's so I can get a look at you." At this Harry froze, halfway to standing. Rab wouldn't… touch him, would he?

Seeing the look on the boy's face Rabastan didn't know whether he should laugh or scowl, so he went for both, "Boy, trust me, I am fond of children, but not like that! If your going to be hanging around then I need to see what I have to work with."

A little uneasy Harry complied, undressing quickly and walking around the fire so Rab could see him. The man appeared to be weighing the young boy like a horse or a piece of meat, muttering under his breath while he did so; grabbing his calves, hitting his thighs, "Good lifting strength there… be a good runner…" his arms and squeezing them after having the boy make the largest muscle he could, "Interesting… But why?"

Then he asked the boy to turn around, revealing his scared back from his uncles beatings with the belt. Though the man didn't say anything here he did take one loud deep breath in and out, gently touching one of the larger ones with a single finger, tracing it down from shoulder to hip.

Harry remembered that one proudly. He had denied his uncle the satisfaction of seeing him cry or hearing him yell when he had gotten that one. He had done his best on the final exams from school just three months ago and the Dursly's had gotten calls and visits from his teachers demanding he be let into an advanced class and possibly even a school for gifted youths. He had only started school a little while ago, but they had demanded he dumb himself down to make Dudley look good. And in class he did so, but when they had country wide testing he had refused to play dumb…

"Show me your hands." Rabastan said, spinning him around by the shoulder. So he lifted up his own calloused hands from gardening all summer and spring and for the small portion of the fall he had spent with the Dursly's before Rab had showed up. "Good…" he muttered once more.

Harry didn't know it, but in another time, in another world altogether this would have been the peak of his youth before receiving a letter. Not yet had this Harry been so thoroughly beaten and trampled and starved and worked to exhaustion. Another year at most and he would have been hidden away from the world and downcast to the point that an excursion like this would have never happened… Then again, in another would two brothers would have never fought and one man would have never arrived at the Surrey Carnival…

"Tell me boy, what do you do for fun?" he asked, whittling the stick once more, looking at Harry questioningly.

'What do I do for fun?' he thought to himself, realizing he didn't have a real answer. "Um… well I guess I do like some of the gardening I did for the Dursly's… and cooking wasn't too bad, I'm not too shabby when I have a kitchen to work in I guess." The man just stared at him for a second, apparently not expecting the answer he had gotten.

"You like to garden… and cook?" he asked with a frown on his face.

Harry blushed a little, "Well, yes, but… Well you asked what I do for fun, but I don't really do anything for fun, so I thought about what I like and those were the only two things at the Dursly's that I guess I liked doing."

The older man snorted before responding, "What sort of things did you do for them?" he asked genuinely curious.

"Cooking, cleaning, gardening, moving furniture around, mowing the lawn with the push mower, taking care of Dudley's different pet's over the years before he kills them one way or another. This summer they 'rented me out' for a couple of weeks to one of aunt Marge's neighbors. Worked me to death on his farm he did, though he actually fed me pretty well."

"Can you read?" seeing Harry's nod he inquired on the largest thing he's read.

"Chronicles' of Narnia. I can do my words ok too, though not in cursive."

Shaking his head Rabastan laughed before lifting the stick he had been working on, inspecting it, speaking while he did so. "I'll put it too you straight Harry; for a child your age you're a little short and thinner than I'd like to see, but you have a lot of muscle on you for a shrimp." He laughed again at Harry's protest, "And your smart enough. Never read the books you said you read but I've seen them in the book stores before, a bit big for what I'd expect, but good enough to go to Hogwarts on near enough." Harry didn't know what Hogwarts was, but still, he was good enough for it. "You can cook, which is a much needed skill when you're on the run like us. Speaking of running you did good that first night, I set a fast pace and you kept up fine."

"Needed to be fast to outrun Dudley and his friends." Harry said simply, pulling up his pants, "Dudders might not be fast, but Piers Polkiss was, and a lot meaner too."

"Heh, Well either way you did good. You'll probably be able to pick up on what plants are what and what does what pretty fast… I said it before kid, a man's needs be strong, needs know how to protect himself. You promised me I wouldn't have to worry about you… well I'm going to hold you to that… eventually. For right now I'm going to train you, teach you a few tricks, make sure you can keep your head in a fight." Then he looked straight into the eye's of the standing boy, Ebony on Emerald, "Do not disappoint me."

With those words he threw the stick to Harry, who was able to effortlessly catch it, looking at the stick in wonder.

"Defend yourself!" the older man yelled, jumping to his feet, holding the stick before him like a rapier.

Harry slept that night with an aching rib and dozens of bruises, Happier than he had ever been in his closet.

--

Chapter One

Standing up, still half asleep, young man, barely a boy, climbs down from the lot of luggage he had been resting on. He was not a tall boy, a little short for his age actually, though just, and he was already in his school robes, though instead of the white shirts others wore under their robes he had all black. Messy lock's of raven hair fell down the back of his head, a little above his shoulders and his normally nonexistent bangs were now covering his brow, hiding a lightning shaped scar.

"ATTENTION! We will be arriving in Hogsmead Village Shortly, please leave all baggage on the train and it will be taken to the castle!"

Blinking his green eyes open Harry stretches and yawn's, feeling the train already starting to slow down and stop.

"Finally!" All he had wanted to do was lay down and rest before they had arrived, but nnooo! Everyone else got to sleep last night and insisted on bugging him like a bunch of three year olds. 'Not like they had to run halfway across Europe to get to a localized floo system that would take them to the Platform!' he thought angrily to himself.

Though it was amusing to run into a familiar face… especially since Rab and he had jacked a ride from her and her family at knifepoint. Harry was still amazed at times by how he had spent the last five years since then. Spain, France, the States, the Amazon, the Carpathian Mountains, Cairo, China, Korea, Japan, Vietnam, which was especially fun as neither of them knew a lick of Vietnamese when the got there or when they left, the Outback, and the Arctic Circle… They had been everywhere you could go to avoid civilization, not to say they always avoided civilization.

It hadn't all been fun and games either. He had his fair share of run in's with unsavory types, and Rabastan was no gentle teacher. He had spent more than a little time with bruised skin and a bruised ego. But he had come out the stronger for it.

Then in the middle of July they get a letter, via owl, letting him Harry 'know' he was a wizard, and that he had been accepted into Hogwarts. Not that that had been all too surprising, though even Rab didn't know how the bloody bird had found them so quickly in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

The man had a ball getting the boy's books, stopping off in different country's to get one of each book. His potion's text was written in Spanish, the book on herbs and fungi in French, Transfiguration in Italian, his standard book of spells in Romanian, the defense book was in Japanese, while his theory book was half Korean and half Chinese, and his creature book in Portuguese. They hadn't gone to England for a single one of his things… Heck, they had gotten his wand in Australia, though only so it would still be registered with the British Ministry of Magic.

After all of that was said and done Rabastan had gotten him a Portkey… to Germany, with six days before he needed to be in London.

He got there, barely, and had almost expected a nice quiet ride. He had lived in anonymity, if that is what you want to call it, for way too long. Laying down then for the first time in two days had led to the door being opened and a loud ginger haired kid entered. Closing his eye's after that led to him re-meeting Hermoine Granger. After she had left, though not before she and Ron Weasly got a good Gawk in at him, he had rested his head against the window for a whole twenty minutes when the door opened again, and a loud, arrogant, drawl interrupted him.

From there he proceeded to the baggage compartment for the rest of the trip.

Honestly he had wished he could just stay with Lestrange for the rest of his life, just as they had been, but the man told him to go, making sure he 'got a decent education.' The words that he had been told the last night before he left still sat there taunting him.

///

"I'm a wanted man Harry. You on the other hand may be a runaway, but you are far from being a criminal. I taught you things any good wizard should know, that any good man should know… But, you are still young, you have chances that I never will anymore, and in order to have the most choices for what you want to be in the end you need to more than what I can offer you. Hogwarts can give you what I cannot… Friends, a decent education, a home. I'm not saying goodbye, but it is here that we part ways for now. I will see you again someday, though I don't know when. Just do me a favor and bring me a trophy, will ya.

///

Walking out of the train Harry could hear a rather large man bellowing out "First years! First Year over here!" the man was large and clearly, to Harry at least, a half giant. It was quite funny, finding out that the Amazons of legends were really just several clan's of half-giants that had bred only between themselves for many generation's, occasionally mixing in a whole giant from time to time.

"Right, if that's all of ya, then we'll be off'ta the castle. Follow me!" and with that he turned, leading the large group of over thirty eleven year olds down to the lake, where they got their first look at Hogwarts.

Harry had seen castles before, even under the full moon as he did now… but this… the castle throbbed with power that he could nearly feel from almost a mile away. "Move!" hissed brunette from behind him, making him realize that nearly everyone else was in a boat already.

Hoping into one that already had two people in it, shortly followed by the same girl, they soon took off. One of his ship mates turned to him, introducing himself, "Names Terry, Terry Boot, pleasure to meet you." Harry just shook the hand in silence, feeling a small headache building up behind his eye's.

"Charmed, I'm Tracy Davis." Was the brunettes response, though her eye's soon glided back to Harry's

"Wayne Hopkin's." was the last, a quite forgettable fellow who eventually ended up in Hufflepuff and was forgotten about.

Looking forward, Harry couldn't wait to get in the school, so he could eat and go to sleep in a warm bed for the first time in years. Some of the most basic needs, which the boy was more than happy with. Hell, he would even be Happy to socialize once he got a decent nights sleep! Though if that girl would stop poking him he would be doing a whole lot better.

"WHAT!" he finally snapped, half turning around and making the boat shake side to side a little. Rubbing the bridge of his nose he repeated more softly, "What do you want, I have a headache?"

The girl actually looked a little sheepish at this, "Oh, I was just wondering when you'd introduce yourself?"

"Names Harry James, pleasures all mine, I assure you." He spoke after a second, turning to face her completely, "So, any idea what house you'll be in?" he asked, making small talk.

"Oh, Slytherin no doubt, my whole family's been in Ravenclaw, though I'm not exactly a bookish girl. What about you?"

"Haven't the foggiest." He replied simply, honestly not knowing where he'd end up.

She just looked at him strangely, "Well you… were raised in the magical would, right?"

"Yes and no." was his infuriating reply, he could see her start to get a pretty blush from anger, "I was raised by a wizard, though we traveled almost nonstop for the past five years. I did read up and keep up on the magical world, though nothing larger than knowing who the various Ministers, presidents, emperors, and general rulers were."

"Ok… well you traveled, did you study a lot?"

"Didn't have time to study, though I was constantly learning things wherever I went."

"Did you do a lot of daring and stupid, er courageous things?"

"Plenty of stupid things, though that's part of life ain't it? Though never when I knew better and there was another way to get or do something."

Her blush began to deepen. If he gave one more answer that was both yes and no, she would flip, "Were you a hard worker?"

"Yes." She relaxed a little, glad she had finally gotten a straight answer, "Not that I had much choice. Rab was very insistent when we'd work on something."

Tracy palmed her forehead, starting to feel a slight headache… right between the eye's too.

"Sounds like Slytherin to me!" said Terry, with a smile, "Not only has he been generally evasive on the questions he's also managed to give you a headache apparently." He and Wayne both laughed at that, though Harry himself give a slight blush now, not meaning to have annoyed her so thoroughly.

Soon they were hopping out of the boat's, walking up to a large set of double doors which Hagrid, the Half giant's name he had learned from Boot, pounded on with his gigantic fist. The door swung open to reveal an elderly woman in a pair of green robes and a tall pointed hat, "Professor McGonagall, the First Years."

"Thank you Hagrid I'll take them from here." She replied, leading the students into Hogwarts for the first time. Once in the main hall she turned and looked at them imperiously. Harry could tell she was not one he would like to cross. "Please wait here," she started curtly, "The sorting ceremony will start shortly. There are four houses in Hogwarts, if you did not already know, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. After you are sorted into one of these houses you will go and sit with your table and be lead to your common room by one of the Prefects. I will be back shortly."

And true to her words she came back to the crowd of nervous children, leading them into the great hall, making all of them, even Harry, gasp in amazement. For, right above the four tables and nearly three hundred students sat the star lit sky, nestled into the arches of the halls high roof.

Off to one side Harry heard Hermoine comment about the ceiling from Hogwarts: a History.

McGonagall paid them no mind though, other than to flash a small smile, and stalked into the middle of the room, placing an old three legged stool down, followed by a ratty and torn black hat… And it sung!

Oh you may not think me pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
if you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.

You might belong in

So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap

After the song was done and the clapping from the students had died down McGonagall spoke once more. "When I call your name take a seat and you'll be sorted, then you can go and sit with your house. Abbot, Hannah."

Before Harry's name was even called Hermoine Granger, Neville Longbottom (Who had ran off and had to bring the hat back to the Professor), Seamus Finnigan, Lavender Brown, Pavati Patil, and Fay Dunbar were all sorted in to Gryffindor, large smiles on their faces.

Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Wayne Hopkins(Who Harry Had forgotten was standing next to him), Megan Jones, and Ernie Macmillan were all sent to Hufflepuff.

Terry Boot, Mandy Brocklehurst, Michael Corner, Anthony Goldstein, and Padma Patil (Pavati Patil's twin sister) all made it into the much more subdued Ravenclaw.

And lastly Millicent Bulstrode, Flora and Hestia Carrow(Another set of twin's), Vince Crabb, Tracy Davis (Who had a small smirk on her face as she walked away), Greg Goyle, Daphne Greengrass, Draco Malfoy (Who took less than a second to be sorted), Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson all made it into glorious Slytherin.

It did not escape the young Potter that Slytherin was so much larger than the other three houses- at least for this group.

"Potter, Harry!" the elderly Gryffindor called, looking up at the boy who, despite the sudden attention he was receiving from the school, walked out to the chair with his head held high and his shoulders held out proudly.

As the hat descended upon his brow he could hear the whispered muttering of his year mates, a single stray thought escaping, 'This better not be what it's always going to be like!' Strong, proud, and social he could be, but attention like this was not something he looked forward too.

"Nor would I expect you to, Mr. Potter!" came a voice from within his head, "Hmmm, excellent Occlumency shields by the way, not that they can stop me, though that headache you have is partially from losing concentration on your shields. Decent for your age, though far from being an Adept in the mind arts."

"You can test my shield's?" he asked aloud, though quietly.

"Indeed Mr. Potter, a little gift from Salazar. Though that is not why we are here… Where shall we put you, hmmm? Quite the interesting chat with Ms. Davis you had on the way in… it takes much more effort to hide in the truth than in lies… Though you don't always know when your doing it… Brave, though not without reason; smart, though not dedicated enough to the pursuit of knowledge; Hard working and loyal, though not without a reason to do so… Ambitious, you are not, fair you are not, noble you are not."

"Well what am I!" he snapped, tired of getting insulted by a hat… 'Maybe the hat would be a good trophy for Rab?' he thought idly.

"'Fraid not, Mr. Potter, I'm bound to the school, unlike some other founders artifacts." Harry blushed at being found out, glad that the hat was hiding his face, "As for what you are: You are clever, you are cunning, a little headstrong, though not ruled by emotions. And talented… Oh my, yes very talented… Well, my job is to send you where you will best grow and develop… It better by: SLYTHERIN!"

Removing the hat from his head Harry frowned at the sudden silence, though he wasn't exactly surprised. Shaking his head he walked over to Slytherin table who began to reluctantly clap for him.

Shortly after he sat down, between Tracy and Draco Malfoy, Zacharias Smith was in Hufflepuff, Lisa Turpin was in Ravenclaw, Dean Thomas and Ron Weasley (Who shot Harry a nasty glare) were in Gryffindor, and Blaise Zabini went to Slytherin.

At the head table an elderly man, who could only be Headmaster Dumbledore stood, "Well, before we all eat, I would like to say a few words; nitwit blubber oddment tweak!" and with that sat down, signaling for the rest to eat.

Turning to Tracy Harry can't help but ask, "He's a little Barmy, ain't he?" Getting a giggle in response.

It was Draco who commented first, watching as Harry piled food onto his plate, "So the-Boy-Who-Lived, in Slytherin… How ashamed your parents must be!" he drawled, eye's glinting, wishing I'd be goaded.

"Meh." he supposed, shrugging my shoulders, "Yea if they're not, oh well if they do. They haven't been in my life for ten years… kinda doesn't matter what they think at this point." He honestly didn't care, five years living life had managed to teach him a lot of things and gave him plenty of time to think. "Besides, my guardian will be ecstatic." He added as an afterthought. Even if Dumbledore himself found out who his guardian was it wouldn't matter, they had parted ways almost a week ago in the middle of nowhere Australia after getting his wand.

The twit wasn't done though, "Yes, well it's good that the mudblood would approve of you being in a proper house."

It was a good thing that Tracy that came to his defense then, hissing under her breath about the boy's father, because he had nothing to say to that… he had no connection to his mother and father anymore beyond the fact that they had given him life… 'Should I care?'

"Fine Davis, you've made your point and we agree, Malfoy's an idiot." Said another boy with dark Italian skin, making Malfoy give a indignant squawk, who extended his hand over to Harry, "The name's Blaise Zabini."

Harry took the hand reluctantly, "Harry Potter." He responded with a fake smile. There was something about the boy he didn't like. He was overly charming for an eleven year old, his voice carrying a strange allure to it.

"You must admit though, it is rather strange that the Defeater of the Dark Lord would end up in the 'Evil' Hogwarts house."

A few of the others chuckled at this, even a couple of second years near them, "Well, I guess I must be evil!" he announced to the rest of the first years, spreading his arms out as if he were a preacher at mass, "Come to me my children, come to the Dark Side… We have cookies!" this got a few more snorts of amusement as people went about their meal.

"Seriously though, I refuse to believe a bunch of twelve and eleven year olds are 'evil.' A few older students may be a little darker than the rest, but most likely not evil… Not that it would matter to me."

"You wouldn't care if the older students were on their way to becoming the next Dark Lord?" asked a thin blond girl, the shortest in their year, Daphne Greengrass if he remembered.

He gave her a small smile, "Nope! I'm here until I graduate and them I'm leaving the islands for good most likely. There's much, much more out there than Britain. When you've seen part of it you want to see it all."

This seemed to get them… excited, "So you've traveled a lot then?" asked one of the twin's, whether it was Hestia or Flora he couldn't tell, leaning over her dish to hear better.

Five years he had traveled and in those years he had heard a lot of stories. You come to appreciate the spoken story when you've heard them told everywhere from the bonfires of magical Native American tribes to the warm fireplaces of a massive manor house. It was the oldest art, around since before the written word and even cave drawing.

"Yes, I've traveled, from Tuscany to Moscow and from Madagascar to the Bering Sea. I've seen the sun rise from the summit of Fujiyama and set into the great coral reef's. I've watched the sky light up with lightning without a single cloud in the sky and slept under it while it glowed with the Aurora borealis." Their eye's were all fixed on him now, even Malfoy's, and a few had their jaws hanging loose. "Tell me, did you know that Nundu will travel in packs when there is enough prey for them to hunt? Watching them run across the hard dry ground with the full moon right above them is a beautiful thing. The world is full of such wonders. I don't know why anyone would want to stay in one place their whole lives."

Turning to Tracy he held up a bowl, "Potato's?"

Once everything was said and done they had all eaten, Dumbledore had given his start of year speech, warning the students off from the third floor corridor, and they were being led down into the dungeons by a fifth year prefect, Marcus Flint. Harry had met half-giants, half-goblin's, half-veela, and half-elves… He had never known a human to mate with a troll, for he was sure that was what he was seeing when he met Flint.

The dungeons were… different, than the rest of the castle, Harry could tell immediately. For one he was sure, after they entered the Slytherin common room, that they were under the lake, and while the rest of the school had walls covered in moving paintings and suits of armor the lower regions were void of such things, bearing grey stone walls to any who wandered down there. Then there was the feeling he got; either there had been a potion accident gone horribly wrong or dark magic had been practiced there for years… generations even.

He knew better though… he knew which it was.

The Slytherin Common room was hidden behind a perfectly normal looking length of wall. The only indicator of it being the proper hall was a statue of a monkey-like man standing proudly, practically looking down his nose at anyone in front of him, at the far end of the corridor.

The Dungeon itself had a low ceiling, and was clearly submerged under the Black Lake. The large sitting area was littered with low backed couches and a pair of chairs in front of each of the three fireplaces. They were the only source of light that wasn't green, giving the room a cold yet grand appearance to it. Next to each of the three fireplaces were two staircases, clearly leading to the dorms.

Right now, though, none of them were paying attention to that.

No, they were all staring at the tall imposing figure of Severus Snape standing in the middle of common room with three women on one side and, now that Flint had left the first years, three boys on the other.

Any conversation that may have been occurring stopped dead, not even trailing off. The man's black eyes looking at each of them in turn, taking in their young forms. Idly Harry focused on his Occlumency shields, feeling the brush of passive Legilimency. He was far from being an expert in the art but it was enough to stop the passive probe being sent out.

Silence reigned, save for the cackling of the fire's. It was after nearly a minute that the man spoke, never raising his voice, instead forcing those around him to listen all the more carefully.

"I would first like to congratulate each of you for making it into the esteemed ranks of Slytherin. We few who are privileged enough to gain entrance into this most Ancient house tend to rise to the greatest heights of society. That said!" he fixed Malfoy, who was grinning like a fiend, with a pointed glare, "Never forget that the higher you soar, the farther you can fall. Remember that well, because a single mistake is all it will take in order get yourself killed. Hogwarts will give you a chance to stretch your wings and with luck help you from making such dim-witted mistakes."

"Before you stands the six prefects, handpicked by myself in order to best guide you and keep you from getting your fool necks snapped before you even graduate. You will go to them if there is ever a problem, and if they cannot help or think there a matter best left to my hands they will come to me. I am a busy man and do not have time to solve petty disputes."

" Before I leave there is only one more matter to which I must attend. Slytherin House is unlike the others, we carry our own rules and our own code that will. Be. Followed! Firstly you will always be in appropriate dress unless you are within the confines of your own dorm room. No shorts or tee shirts, or jean's. At the very least you will wear black slacks and a buttoned shirt. Some of you may be Half-bloods or even muggleborn, but you are now in the center of Pureblood society, where it all begins. Play your cards right and you will not be held back by our society but become part of it."

"Secondly, though I do not expect you to like each other, or even get along, once you leave this common room you are a house undivided. If you are caught fighting or perpetrating an act against anyone in this house, you will find yourself at my tender mercies… Other's may joke about Mr. Filches wanted punishments… I will make you wish for them…"

"Thirdly… Slytherin House has a certain… reputation, as you no doubt know. Justified, unjustified, or anything in between is moot. The other three houses will almost always unite against us… It is for that reason that I shall hold each and every one of you to a higher standard of work than the others. Your Potion's work will be the best in the school… not because I cheat and tutor my snakes, but because anything less than an Exceeds Expectations in potions will be marked down as a Troll in my grade book… For the other classes I cannot do such, but should I find you are slacking in ANY of your classes you shall have your rights and freedom's removed in order for you to practice."

"Do not disappoint me my snakes… you would not wish to earn my ire for the next seven years of your lives… We've lost students over less…" and with one final look at the young students he turned and walked up one of the sets of stairs, four of the six prefects going with him.

"Alright you lot," said Flint, glaring at all the younger students, "the stairs the Professor went up are off limits to you lot, they're there for the Professor, Prefects, and the Quidditch team, not that you will need to worry about any of that for a few years at least."

His female counterpart, a tall red headed girl, continued from there, "The male dorms are off on the right, females on the left. Ladies can get into the male dorms, though you gents are out of luck if you want to try the same. Trust us, the wards will stop you…" here she shot Flint a look with a raised eyebrow, "won't they Flint?"

Blushing an angry red, though saying nothing to the contrary, the half-troll yelled for them to go to their dorms, followed by, "Prefects will be in to have a little 'chat; in an hour." Making them go all the faster.

The dorms were both simple and grand at the same time. The green and silver played in such a way that one could not help but feel the grandeur in the room, though the designs and layout were plain… well, save for the beds themselves. The beds were made of a beautiful Blackwood that was carved into snake designs that had been shined until they practically glowed. The curtains on the beds were thick and a beautiful dark green that reminded Harry of the forest's he had traveled so much in the past years. And the mattresses… when he touched them Harry swore there was magic in each individual thread.

Finding his "trunk" was quite easy. It was the only thick leather duffle bag at the foot of a bed.

"What is that monstrosity, Potter?" Drawled his blond, aristocratic housemate, who eyed the magically enchanted bag with a look askance.

"That," the young Potter started, pulling his robes over his head, "is a wizarding travel bag."

The bag in question, which was actually black dragon hide, had half a dozen 'pouches' on it, each with the space of the main compartment of the bag ten times over, had the main bag not been enchanted. He and Rab had picked it up while sneaking across the Mexican border into the States.

"Why would someone carry something like that willingly?" he asked once more.

"Because Malfoy," Blaise answered as Harry rummaged around for his night close and a change of shorts, "It's inconspicuous for wizards who travel and holds more than any of our trunks, no doubt."

"Please Zabini, don't tell me you believed the pounce's story about traveling? Anyone can read traveler's journals. Besides, look at him, no way someone can travel as much as he claims and be that small!"

Hearing this Harry smiled before pulling his shirt over his head, showing the blond and Italian, who were the only two standing around talking, a thin frame surrounded in tight muscles, free of nearly any baby fat. They were both impressed, though Malfoy turned to do something else, refusing to acknowledge the boy's better figure out loud.

As he walked past them to get to the showers Blaise snapped his finders and pointed at Harry's back, making his blond counterpart look again, getting an eyeful of his roommates scared back before the thick wooden door closed behind him.

"You know, maybe you shouldn't call be calling him a pounce anymore?" said the darker of the two, a small grin on his face as he looked at Draco with his eye's still wide a little.

"Yeah… Probably a good idea… Will definitely consider it." Was all an equally wide eyed blond had to say, still staring at the door.

'Either way' Blaise thought to himself wryly, 'It's going to be a more interesting seven years than mother predicted.' He would be right and he would come to hate that with every inch of his body.