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Welcome to the Wizarding World
Harry snarled in frustration as Hogwart's infamous, fusty moving staircases in once again took him to the wrong corridor. His magic flared, pulsing with his annoyance. A group of whispering teenagers in front of him jumped at the sound and moved as far away from him as the limited space on the moving staircase would allow. He sighed mentally, reigning in his magic, and prepared to apologize when he spotted the impossibly immaculate, blonde tuft of hair that could only belong to Draco Malfoy. The blonde was waiting patiently for him at the prospective landing of the moving staircase.
Harry remembered suddenly where they were headed, and the bottom of his stomach dropped slightly.
He and Draco had been at Hogwarts for a little more than two weeks, and Harry had been greeted either with complete mistrust (partially for arriving with the blond) or with utter adoration. Draco quickly reminded him of the Boy-Who-Lived legacy, and fantasy, that surrounded his name. It churned a rage in Harry against the publishers and writers who had since his birth reaped nothing but profit on his name.
If it had not been for the fact that so many students and faculty alike had come up to him on the day after his arrival asking for autographs and if he really had been hunting dragons in Mongolia, he would have been happy to leave the subject alone.
I refuse to live in the fairytale world these idiots made. Draco, being for once very useful, used his family's connections to publicly renounce all publications written about Harry. The aftermath and on going legal battle was interesting and educative to say the least. Draco and his mother decided it to be in Harry's interest to hold the press conference that they were on their way to, to set the record straight about him and put those who made money off of him out of business.
Despite his continuous run-ins with the law, Harry had little knowledge of legal proceedings in the non-magical world or in the magical world, even with the limited access to Draco's memories. Lady Malfoy mentioned that she was seeking solatium, and Harry was happy to let her seek have her way.
With a start, he brushed past the group at the base of the stairs and jumped off as he realized the staircase had a different landing in mind and not the one where Draco was waiting for him. His pulse flared, seemingly happy to be made useful after so long. Though he kept it on alert and practiced spells out of the book with it, there had been little reason for him to use his magic.
The students on the stairs shrieked in surprise as Harry hurdled himself through the air and landed crouched with a small thud next to Draco.
"Show off," the persnickety blonde sneered with crossed arms. Harry shrugged his shoulders and righted himself.
He realized that many students who were meandering through the corridors at the moment were all staring at him in awe. He rolled his eyes and followed the blond, who had taken off without another word.
Thanks again for helping set up this interview, Harry sent mentally. He saw the blonde's lips twitch as if he wanted to verbally reply. Don't speak. There are too many unwanted ears.
Harry said observing the others watching him and Draco with pure interest.
The twitch in the corner of Draco's mouth was the only outward acknowledgement of Harry's statement.
Consider it repayment for publically accepting me as your bonded brother and restoring the honor of my family's name. Harry snorted. And for saving my life, the blonde said in afterthought.
Harry did not snort there. He swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in this throat. The blonde's words cut through him like the sharpest knife.
He had done that and more, After nearly killing his blond, bonded brother. The only thing that came out of their Little adventure in the forest was his magic going haywire as they tried to find their way through the Forbidden Forest to the castle and nearly destroying the bond between the blonde and himself.
Harry shivered. He did not want to think of the two days that they spent fighting every dark creature they stumbled across until they reached the wards of Hogwarts. They had been so exhausted from the fighting that Harry had been deemed mentally and magically unstable enough to be Sorted for nearly a week.
The blonde's previously perfect visage was now scarred, similar to Harry's own remarkable diagonal marker, with a barely visible scratch that stretched from his pale forehead to his chin along the right side of his face. As if feeling Harry's eyes, and understanding the sudden silence following his statement, Draco unconsciously ran a finger down the pale scar.
Sorry, I didn't mean to- the blonde began to apologize. The feeling of guilt that was pulsing through Harry suddenly peaked.
Don't, you did do anything wrong. Harry clapped his companion warmly on the back, swallowing the deep regret and sadness that filled him from the memory of his deeds in the forest.
The walked the rest of the way in silence, ignoring the stares of Draco's classmates. My future classmates.
Harry couldn't help the deuced twinge of excitement that flowed through him at the thought of learning magic properly. Despite the fact that, according to Draco and his memories, Harry was far ahead of the students in terms of magical stamina, he knew that even the youngest students had more practical and theoretical magical knowledge than he.
He was currently trying to remedy that by reading the books that he stole from Draco's library as well as books he found in the Hogwarts' library. It was not unusual for Draco to stumble upon Harry whispering incantations to himself and moving his new, rarely used wand as instructed in the text. He found himself learning more from the books he stole than from those he borrowed. The spells were generally more exciting, more powerful than the ones that the students were learning.
Every now and then, he felt a bit of guilt as he had yet to discuss his theft with the blonde or the vivid nightmares the followed, in which Voldemort raged about the unknown location of his personal library.
Gods only know what Draco doesn't want me to know. Harry thought with an internal smile.
He made to open the door to the empty classroom where he was to be interviewed by some wizard journalists Draco's family had connections to, but Draco put his hand on the door, keeping Harry from opening it.
"What did you promise me?" He asked. Harry folded his arms and rolled his eyes impatiently. "Potter…"
"Yea yeah, I heard you." I prefer your silence though. The blonde's eyes narrowed dangerously. Harry shook the slight creeping sense of fear off and scratched the back of this neck. "I won't do anything."
"Potter…" Draco warned. This was the fifth or sixth time they had discussed what Harry was allowed and not allowed to do doing the press conference. Harry couldn't suppress the grin on his face.
"Fine! I promise I will let you do all of the talking unless it's specifically about my past. I will throw in a few emotions to give it more- what word did you us- flame? Flare? Whatever." Harry attempted to recite from memory.
The blonde nodded stiffly. Harry nearly laughed at the blonde's antics, but he realized that would not help his current predicament at all. He unpleasantly remembered the last time he angered the blonde at dinner in the Great Hall and had to face his wrath and wand. He had painful bumps on his bum for hours.
The blonde opened the door and Harry grimaced under the flash of several cameras. He saw spots for the entirety of the three-hour interview.
With some difficulty and much mettle, he managed to detach himself from the blonde, who stayed behind to control what the journalists were to release and give his input. Harry opted to wander around the castle and collect his thoughts. The interview had awoken some hard memories, but besides that, Harry figured it went well.
Apart from having to punch that reporter, he thought with a smile. The daring reporter had repeatedly insinuated and insisted that the Malfoys were negatively influencing Harry. And he spoke out of turn. If it weren't for Draco, Lady Malfoy, and Dumbledore, who demanded to be present for the questioning of his students, Harry might have dismembered the sniveling man.
The interview had taken a turn for the better after that altercation. The other journalists decided to be more careful as well as diplomatic with their words, knowing that they might endanger themselves otherwise.
Harry found himself alone in the halls. Everyone else was most likely in lessons. Harry admitted that he envied them slightly for having learned magic under the instruction of professors where he had to learn by trial and error in a juvenile delinquent center.
With great difficulty, he used his magic to push those thoughts aside. His sorrowful mind was suddenly cleared as the comforting pulse literally pushed the thoughts out of his head. He released a breath that he had not realized he had been holding. His head felt lighter.
Draco called it Occulmency. He had been doing it regularly since they arrived at the castle. It became a necessity with also of the headache-inflicting nuances of the Wizarding world. Everything from the dress to their expressions like "oh Merlin" or "oh Dragon dung" confused Harry. He was lucky that he wasn't forced to immediately integrate himself into the student population.
Dumbledore argued for him to immediately attend classes, supposedly for integration purposes. Luckily Lady Malfoy and the school nurse, whose name Harry still couldn't quite remember, campaigned for Harry's slow immersion into Hogwarts. He was supposed to attend class everyday, but which class and what level being instructed were not dictated by anyone. He was to visit and not interrupt. Luckily for Harry, Dumbledore was also forced to make an announcement telling the students to give Harry his private space after his disastrous and eventful first two days.
"Excuse me!" A brown-haired guy around his height said after Harry absentmindedly ran into him. "Watch where you are going!" The guy made to shove him, and Harry kicked his legs out from underneath the boy.
"I don't like being shoved." Harry admitted in a dangerous tone. The boy's eyes flew from Harry's face to his forehead impossibly fast. Harry had been experiencing that inspection by nearly everyone who got up close enough. He doubted he would ever understand why a lightening bolt-shaped scar caused some people to treat him differently, even with the explanation that Malfoy gave him.
The mousey boy cowered away from him, and Harry rolled his eyes. He noted on his periphery that many students had paused to watch the interaction with interest. They must have gotten out of classes without me noticing.
He looked at the boy at his feet. I probably shouldn't start off on the wrong foot with the students here. He thought with an internal sigh.
He extended his hand to the boy, who initially retracted back away from the offered help. He accepted the hand finally, and Harry pulled him to his feet. He dusted himself off.
"Sorry about that." The boy apologized. "I thought you were a Slytherin. They are always pushing me, knocking my books out of my hands, sticking dragon pus on my back – stuff like that."
Harry merely nodded, not knowing or really wanting to know what dragon pus was or what it did to one's back. He extended his hand again. "I'm Harry."
"I'm Neville, Neville Tiselius Longbottom of the Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom." He spoke softly and bowed his head slightly to Harry. His name and face matched the memories of Draco, and he bore a slight, but noticeable resemblance to Lady Longbottom.
"I'm sorry. I'm not very familiar with Wizarding traditions. Why do you introduce yourself to me with your full name?"
All of the Slytherins and some students from other houses he had been introduced to did had done so as well, and Harry quickly figured out why, but feigning innocence and ignorance was usually a great asset so he decided to go with it.
Plus, this is what Dumbledore wants, for me to make friends and prove that I am an innocent, sweet boy. Harry mentally rolled his eyes. He has another thing coming, and he doesn't even know it.
"It is seen as an insult and could possibly fuel a blood feud between houses if a pureblood of a lower or similar house does not introduce themselves and their house to someone of superior rank or blood." Superior, that's new. At Harry's blank look, the boy continued with a kind smile. "You are of a superior rank, Lord Potter."
"None of this 'Lord' nonsense! Call me Harry." He said waving his hand, noting the gasps of their onlookers at his request.
"As you insist, Harry." He gave another small bow of his head. Harry wasn't sure whether he wanted to vomit at being called "Lord" or at the inferiority the boy emitted. Wizards and their traditions, I will never understand them.
"I must, however, depart. I was on my way to Potions when we collided." He said with a wince. Harry wasn't sure if the wince was from the fall or from the idea of going to Potions. "The professor doesn't like tardiness, or me."
"I will go with you." Harry decided and started off in the direction of the crazy staircases.
"I'm not sure if you want to do that… Professor Snape is not the most... friendly teacher here. And he hates my house, Gryffindor, and this specific period particularly."
Good. Harry said inwardly. He needed something to sidetrack him from his recent re-visitation of his childhood, or lack thereof.
"I'm already walking in that direction." Harry said pointing to his feet.
Besides, I should probably visit a class or two. He had been spending most of his free time with Draco and his friends in their common room, but when they were in class, Harry usually found an empty classroom to practice the magic from Draco's memory, exercise, read in the library, or wandered around the castle.
When Draco introduced him to the magnificent library, Harry nearly fainted. He nearly spent two days there from opening to closing. The librarian Madame Pince was practically enamored with him after he quieted a group of chattering girls while she was in the process of doing the same.
They were just too annoying.
The librarian indulged bis every whim and even showed him spells to handle the books properly, showing him which lighting helps by which types of books to make reading them more efficient.
Harry gave a crooked smile to a group of pretty girls they descended the stairs, sending them into a fit of giggles.
I can get used to this. One particularly beautiful girl caused a familiar twitch in his lower regions, reminding him of how long it had been since he had been with a woman.
Harry was drawn out of his thoughts by a disturbance. A boy tripped and fell, colliding with a professor, whom Harry could only describe as what he always pictured a vampire would look like.
"Oh no, he ran into Professor Snape, poor idiot." Neville said as they approached the classroom.
Harry had heard from the Slytherins and Draco that the man was protective of his snakes as they were generally discriminated against due to the return of the Dark Lord. It was suspected that all of the Slytherins were future followers of his. Harry rolled his eyes at the thought, but he refused to lie to himself and say that he felt fully comfortable sleeping in the enemy's prospective lair
When Neville said that the Professor Snape was unpleasant, Harry realized the boy was much too generous with his words as he observed the man rip into the student in the hallway.
"Perhaps someone of better birth could please instruct Mr. Horby on how to dress himself so that he does not endanger us all by tripping over his hems?" Several students sniggered.
The man reminded Harry of some guards at Sirkins. However, instead of jumping inmates in the bathroom, Professor Snape seemed to be masterful with words and unleashed the same about of harm as a gang of angry officers with one sentence. "Detention, Mr. Hornby." The man snarled and swept into the classroom.
Harry and the rest of the students obediently followed him. He's good.
Harry sat next to Neville in the back of the room, however they were not able to avoid the unnatural bad mood of the greasy-haired teacher.
The dark eyes swept through the class as if looking for another victim. They immediately found him as the professor turned away from the board and faced the class. "Ah. Mister Potter, our newest-."
"It's Lord Potter, thanks." Harry said clearly and calm. He felt Neville tense up beside him.
"Why you arrogant little-." The man's face contorted. Wow, I didn't know he could get uglier.
"Excuse me. I'm an neither arrogant nor little." He paused, soaking in the incredulous stares of the others in the room. "Sir."
"You dare insult me in my own classroom! Impudent, just like your father-."
Harry gave a soft, yet dangerous laugh. His magic hummed slightly, waiting for the right moment. He saw the man's hand twitch towards his pocket. Harry had a feeling this man was not going to be able to control his temper for much longer. Pity, I was enjoying this.
"Since I neither knew my father nor insulted you, I'm rather confused by your accusations and insults." Harry said quickly. "However, maybe we could discuss this later over a pot of tea? I'm rather interested in hear about the man-."
"SHUT UP, POTTER!" The man was suddenly standing above him.
Harry rose slowly out of his seat to match the man, eye-to-eye. "No." He said, still smiling.
"Why you insolent, spoiled little brat-." The man's face was red, and the vein in his neck pulsed dangerously. In comparison to his furious opponent, Harry looked like the epitome of peace.
He felt Neville tugging his shirt slightly. Harry ignored him for the moment.
"Seeing as I was raised in a juvenile delinquent facility, I hardly think even you could accuse me being spoiled." He laughed, his magic expanding around him and ignoring the murmurs. "However, if you would like, I can show you personally why I was sent there in the first place." With his magic, he moved the desk, chairs (with a startled Neville still seated upon it) to the side, removing all obstacles between the Potions teacher and himself. The man took a step back in some mix of fury, surprise, and was that a tinge of fear, I see?
"Are you threatening me, Potter?" He spit Harry's name as if it was venom. His retreat pacified Harry enough to retract his magic, slightly.
He moved the chairs and desk back into their original place and sat down slowly next to Neville. "No, I'm patiently waiting for you to do your job and teach." His voice no longer held any essence of fake cheerfulness. "Or are you paid to banter students?"
There was a collective intact of breath in the room. Harry wanted to close his eyes and enjoy the feeling of victory.
"OUT! GET OUT OF MY CLASSROOM!"
"Is this how you treat guest students, Professor? Tsk tsk. I believe I will have to let the Board of Governors know about this." Harry was suddenly very grateful to Draco for explaining to him that the staff, faculty, and headmaster had to answer to the Board of Governors, who had to answer to the Ministry. "I refuse to accept how a Lord is treated in this establishment."
Harry actually could hear the wind leaving the professor's sails. He snarled at Harry once and turned away to begin his lecture on the viscid scratch-healing potion Acanthium.
Still in shock from the interaction, no one moved to take notes. Realizing such, the batman turned on his heels and bellowed. "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? Write it down, you dunderheads!" His left eye twitched dangerously, and Harry grinned like the cat that caught the canary.
"I can't believe you did that!" Neville said still dumbstruck. Harry followed him as he headed towards the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall for dinner after the lesson.
"What did he do?" Someone next to Neville asked. The mousy, brown haired boy took a deep breath and began to recount the supposedly historical exchange between the evil Snape and Lord Harry Potter, the new Prince in the shining armor.
Harry, who normally sat with Draco at the Slytherin table, liked the idea of switching it up a bit today. Since he had yet to be Sorted, he had had full freedom to sit where he pleased but had yet never indulged. He caught the blonde's eye from across the Hall. Draco frowned slightly, rolled his eyes and nodded barely noticeably.
I hope you know what you are doing, Potter.
You never know when you might need good people like this Longbottom, bonny. Harry smirked into his golden goblet.
He, and half of the Hall, saw the blonde raise his goblet to him with a smile. Spoken like a true Slytherin.
Harry returned the gesture. Spoken like someone who's done this before. Harry did not see the need to add that he had never used anyone for malicious means and that he hoped to be a deterrent to any future spiteful mistreatment of Neville by the Slytherins.
OoOoOoOoO
Harry managed to split his following mealtimes between the two tables much to the confusion of the two Houses. Draco noted at lunch the day after his altercation with Snape that the Slytherins weren't sure whether to despise him for showing up their Head of House and for sitting at the Gryffindor table or praise him for his ballsy actions.
Harry was forced to answer questions about his altercation with Snape at both tables. As he was eating dinner at the Gryffindor table with Neville listening to yet another recount of his defeat of Snape three days following the encounter, he saw the bespoken heading towards him at a furious pace. He piled his plate with more food and waited until he felt the man's shadow descend upon him before he began cutting his chicken leisurely. The table held its breath.
"It is just me, or did someone suck the happiness out of the air?" Neville let out a cough that sounded very much like a snort of laughter to Harry.
"Potter," the man spat heatedly, opening ignoring Harry's jibe. "The headmaster would like to see you in his office."
Harry chewed and swallowed before turning slowly to the professor. "Thank you for letting me know, sir." He gave a charming smile.
The man mentally swallowed a lemon as his face contorted and his lips tightened. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if to control his temper.
"The headmaster's time should not be taken lightly." He said as if speaking with a stubborn child.
"I'm sure the headmaster would not want me to starve myself in his castle." He suddenly gestured to Neville to make room for one more on the bench, wandlessly summoned a plate and cutlery, and turned again to the professor. "Would you like to join us, Professor Snape? I'm sure no one would mind."
Harry felt an odd rush roll over the entirety of the Hall as his question lingered in air.
What's his first name? Professor Snape's, I mean. Harry asked Draco.
My godfather? His full name and title is Potions Master Severus Snape of the former House of Malfoy, now of the House of Potter, since my father's actions left our under your mercy and direction. The blonde responded hesitantly. Don't do anything stupid.
Thanks! Harry said, ignoring that latter part of the blonde's response. GODFATHER? We need to talk later about this.
The professor twitched impressively for someone who was not having a nervous breakdown. "Potter, this is an order-."
Harry stood up suddenly, causing several people around him to jump back in fright. "Potions Master Severus Snape of the former House of Malfoy, now of the House of Potter, I'm sure you do not wish to publicly denounce the Lord of the House for which you have magically declared loyalty." Harry hissed, used his magic to enhance the echoing effect of his quiet words.
The man's obsidian eyes widened comically before his face returned to its normal expressionless self, with hundreds of emotions flashing across his eye. The internal battle must be epic.
You are terrible, Potter! If he refuses you, you could disown him from the family, publically disgrace him and take all of his possessions as compensation of his disownment. No man in his right mind would do so.
Harry decided to not overindulge in his victory.
"I'm sorry. I lost my temper..." Harry glanced quickly at the table. "My appetite as well." The damage had, as he expected, already been done.
The man looked ready to kill. Harry simply walked away from him and out of the Hall with hundreds of eyes on his back. As he made his way up the grand staircase that connected to the hall outside of the Great Hall, he heard the swift and subtle footsteps of the Potion Masters behind him.
"You are free to walk beside me." Harry said indifferently. "You wouldn't happen to have a cigarette, would you?"
A dark chuckle halted him in his tracks. "Well played, Potter. I didn't think you had it in you. I see now why Lady Malfoy prefers you."
Harry turned slightly, his stomach churning slightly. "So… no cigarette?" The man snorted, and Harry continued his ascent up the stairs with a heavy mind.
Too many questions flew through his head. I wonder if Lady Malfoy confided in him? Harry mentally trussed and bound the questions together and stored them in the back of his mind for later rumination with his magic.
Are you all right, Potter?
Yes, dear! Harry sent back sarcastically. Enjoying the stuffy, evening air in the castle with your beloved godfather.
He heard the blonde's snicker ringing through his head, subconsciously relieving some of the pressure from his dilemma. He's a handful, isn't he? The laughter continued.
Harry didn't bother to respond.
As the silent duo reached the statue that guarded Dumbledore's office, Snape gave the password "Candy Cane" with a slight twitch of aggravation.
They found Dumbledore waiting at the top of the stairs for them. Harry nodded his head slowly in respect.
"I apologize for the unorthodox greeting," The man said, shaking his massive beard. "The Sorting Hat needed his time and peace to prepare for Mr. Potter's Sorting. I have been given limited amount of time in my office for the past two weeks." His irritation was almost nonexistent.
Harry felt a slight panic go through him.
Draco, get here now. They are going to Sort me.
I'm coming! Bloody Hell.
Harry merely raised an eyebrow in response, giving no indication of the recent bond activity or his racing heartbeat.
"We shall be joined by the other Heads of Houses, Head Boy and Head Girl-."
"As well as Draco," Harry said swiftly. "As my bonded brother, he has a right to be here."
He noticed a brief look of irritation false across both men's faces, though he supposed for different reasons.
"Naturally." The old man acquiesced, recovering quickly. Harry smiled inwardly.
He was not as surprised by the sudden Sorting as he should have been. Dumbledore had told him upon his arrival that it could possibly take until mid-year for the Sorting Hat to willingly sort another student. However, as Draco pointed out to him several times, the fact that he sat with the Slytherins openly unnerved the old wizard. Harry had often felt the man's eyes on him at meals and was beginning as if his interactions with the Slytherins were against someone's religion. It would make sense that the man would want him Sorted to force him away from the Slytherins.
The other three awaited professors showed up within minutes as predicted as well as two upperclassmen Harry did not know. Draco, a little flushed in the face, arrived moments later and assumed a particularly defensive stance between Harry and Dumbledore. Though he hid it well, Harry could see that he was out of breath.
He did not feel like asking Draco to explain himself at the moment. He had a feeling the blonde was in one of his moods with Dumbledore's obvious attempt to exclude him from Harry's Sorting.
"Now that we are complete, we may proceed I believe." Dumbledore said opening the door to his office.
Here we go. Harry thought willingly sharing some of his excitement with Draco.
The blonde snorted out loud attracting the attention of the others present as they entered Dumbledore's office. Harry could not refrain from punching the blonde in the arm.
Dumbledore's office was as eccentric and majestic as the man himself. Harry felt as uncomfortable as he always had in the office. It was perhaps the only place in the school that made him feel anxious and apprehensive. Draco assumed it had to do with Dumbledore's invasive magic filling every inch and nook within the room, oppressing Harry's own magic.
The two Head students immediately sat themselves upon the hardback chairs. The professors, however, conjured seats for themselves in the room. Following their example, Harry did likewise, summoning two large beanie chairs for both Draco and himself. The blonde raised an eyebrow at his green and silver bean bag chair before sitting with unnatural grace upon it. Harry sat upon his own pink one and allowed it and the familiar magic to settle around him. His pulse throbbed happily through him.
Damn this is comfortable! Why are you just now introducing me to this?
Harry merely smiled at the blonde before turning to the plenum, only to see them watching the exchange with wide, interested eyes.
"That is quite impressive, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore said vanishing the two unoccupied, hardback chairs with a flick of his wand.
"The hat." Harry said simply. He wanted nothing more than to leave the room.
"Mr. Potter, you will address the headmaster with respect!" Screeched a stern looking woman with black hair tied up in a tight bun. Harry cocked his head to side, analyzing her slightly. She reminded him terribly of a counselor with whom he had often had difficulty.
Professor McGonagall, Mistress of Transfiguration. Draco supplied.
Harry mentally voiced his thanks before replying to the woman. "Respectfully noted, professor." He said shocking even himself. "May I ask, what house you supervise?"
"Gryffindor," said responded proudly. Gryffindor, Draco all but growled in Harry's head at the same time.
"Also noted." He said through lips drawn into a tight smile. The woman's eyes widened in disbelief. "Professor Snape, you wouldn't happen to have that cigarette? You never responded."
Draco chocked apparently on air. Potter, have you lost your mind? He's going to skin you and wear you as his robe!
"I have long since given up smoking, Lord Potter." The man drawled expressionlessly. "However, I can recommend a brand that you may buy in the local magical village."
The dumbstruck and gaping expressions that followed his recommendation nearly had Harry laughing out loud. He merely nodded his head with a small smirk.
"Severus, I do not believe it is wise to support such a habit." Dumbledore admonished with a furrowed brow.
The potion's master merely raised an intimidating brow at the chastisement. "I believe Lord Potter would simply find a brand to smoke nonetheless. I would rather he smokes a healthier Wizarding brand, than a dangerous muggle one." He shrugged his shoulders gracefully.
Harry was beginning to like the man.
The stern McGonagall looked ready to breathe fire. "What a-."
"Perhaps we could proceed with the Sorting," Harry interjected cutting off any dramatic peroration. "I would rather know where I could sleep tonight away from Draco's snoring."
"I do NOT snore!" The blonde yelled, insulted. Harry merely smiled in response.
A tattered old hat was summoned and a chill went up Harry's spine as the brim opened to reveal a mouth and began to speak.
"Ah, Mr. Potter. I've waited five years to Sort you."
OoOoOoOoO
Draco watched the proceedings with an expression of slight disinterest, although of all those present he might have been the most interested in where his bonded brother would go.
If there were ever a category students being "unsortable," Harry would be the most difficult one of the bunch. The previous bond had giving him a first hand account of much of Harry's life.
The black haired boy – man – was slyer and manipulative than even the most ambitious Slytherins, however his caring, Hufflepuff side restricted his manipulations solely to his declared enemies or those who hurt him. His firm Ravenclaw grasp of reason and reasoning kept his Gyffindor fearlessness from becoming overbearing and dangerous to his Slytherin sense of self-preservation.
Draco vaguely recalled the memory of a court session in which Harry, as a boy, manipulated the court against his walrus of an Aunt, who he hated for abusing him by sending her dog after him as well as the many times he shielded younger inmates from the nefarious machinations of the older ones or from the guards.
As the Dumbledore beckoned Harry to come forward and put the hat on, Draco pulled himself out of his thoughts. As soon as the hat touched Harry's head, Draco felt an unimaginable tug on his magic. He sat up suddenly, his wand in his hand immediately.
Dumbledore's blue eyes sharply suddenly stared at him. Draco resisted the urge to shiver as he saw the eyes narrow slightly as if to say, "what have you done now?"
A pained shout from Harry drew him out of his battle of the eyes with Dumbledore. He was at the boy's side in a second, snatching the hat off of his head.
"Mr. Malfoy!" Professor McGonagall shrieked jumping from her chair.
The hat spoke, ignoring both Draco and her. It spoke directly to Harry. "My, my, do you have strong mental defenses Mr. Potter. I don't think I've ever seen a student with such a natural precocity for Occlumency." Draco rolled his eyes slightly at Harry's embarrassed face. "However, for us to proceed with the Sorting, you must allow me into your head."
"I don't know how." Harry said bitingly, as if it pained him to admit that he could not do something.
"I'll help." Draco spoke up handing the smelly old hat back to Harry. He saw his godfather's lips twitch in what one could call a brief, genuine smile. He had of course learned the Mind Arts from his godfather since he could remember, and mastered it quite impressively much to the pride of his instructor. The man was watching the proceeding with obvious interest.
As he sat in his unnaturally comfortable chair, Harry sighed and replaced the hat on top of his head.
Let me in, Potter. His request was immediately accepted. Harry subconsciously relaxed in the chair.
Look at me, Potter. Slowly, Harry's head turned to him and he pushed slightly against Harry's abnormally strong defenses.
The defensive magic that built the walls around Harry's mind recognized Draco as a familiar presence and allowed him to instruct it.
Pretend that the Hat is a friend of yours, whom you want to show your life to. However, remember, you can hide whatever you want from it. Though it might be smart to show it all of the more important events. It is bound by several Vows of Secrecy to protect the honor, integrity and memories of students.
Harry nodded, and Draco felt the walls easing around him. Within seconds, he felt a sticky, cloudy presence in his own mind. It was a murky, disgusting feeling to have unfamiliar magic in Harry's mind. The bond merely magnified the feeling for Harry, Draco assumed.
Interesting, interesting. He heard the hat say. Such a powerful bond between two wizards is something I haven't had the honor to witness in centuries. Do not let it go to waste, explore its advantages and test its limits.
Malfoy bit back a comment he wanted to make about not being a Gryfindor as Harry answered the hat. He was much too interested in witnessing the sorting of another person to care about the Hat's unnecessary warning. His Sorting had been lightening fast with the Hat instantly placing him in Slytherin without a single comment.
Please, place me anywhere but in Gryffindor. Draco heard him say. I don't think I could remain sane under that McGonagall woman.
Yet you are noble and courageous and thirst to prevent and correct wrongdoings, a perfect match for Godric Gryffindor's house if I've seen one. He too overcame extreme obstacles, which only enforced his belief in sparing all innocents. This was a significant part his decision to found a school where children who grew up like himself and you, Mr. Potter, could have a safe-haven where they could build their character, hone their powers, and build a righteous and trusting community. Draco saw Harry tense up, as if he were ready expel the hat from his mind and bring the Sorting to an abrupt halt. From the Hat's enticing and praising monologue on Gryffindor, Draco too feared that it would choose Gryffindor.
As if sensing the danger in its words, the Hat changed his tone immediately. However, I do see the cunning, the self-preservation, the ambition that drives the students in Slytherin. Yes, I see the darkness within your magic and past. So destructive and deadly, just as the magic that flowed through Salazar in his heyday. Yes, Mr. Potter, I see what you did to your family, and those afterwards who tried to hurt you.
Draco could see the line layer of sheet forming on Harry's forehead. He could not image how violated the private boy felt at having his life and memories scanned and analyzed by a third party.
The hat continued as if unaware of how uncomfortable the brunette was.
Your connection to your magic is profound and rivals that of Helga. She was not the wisest, the most cunning, nor the most daring, but she is often forgotten as having powered the strongest wards in Europe for Hogwarts and also later for the palace that houses Beauxbaton. Magic hummed around her awaiting her command as it had chosen her on Fundamental Genesis, something I believe you are familiar with.
Harry tensed again. Draco was slightly confused, having never heard specifics of Hufflepuff's power or of Fundamental Genesis. He made a mental note to discuss that with Harry as soon as they left the presence of the headmaster.
I would dishonor her by not placing you, someone of similar magical capabilities, in her house, however your connection to Slytherin runs deeper than even your bonded knows.
This caused Draco's eyes to narrow at the brunette. He wondered what the hat was hinting at. I wonder what Potter is hiding.
Malfoy, you do know that I can hear your musings. Harry said punching the blond.
"Boys." Draco looked to his godfather at the warning tone, noting for the first time that he and Potter had been locked in eye contact for the duration of the Sorting.
Such a dilemma, the Hat said, where to put you?
For the second time in the twenty minute long Sorting, Harry spoke. Put me somewhere where I will fight any attacks by Voldemort or Dumbledore. Both have attacked me in one form or another. I need to be able to protect myself and fight them both.
Draco nearly fell out of his seat from the open contempt he felt through their bond.
"Then it will have to be… Slytherin." It said officiously out loud, shocking the blonde even more. He had assumed the Hat would put Harry in Ravenclaw. Maybe the best way to beat the Heir of Slytherin is from within his own house, he thought to himself.
"Well, Potter. I guess we will be sharing chambers regardless of your discontentment." Draco said with a smirk, for the moment ignoring Professor McGonagall's surprisingly suspicious glance his way.
OoOoOoOoO
Harry also did not miss the looks exchanged amongst the Heads of Houses or the two other students as he removed the hat from his head and placed it back on Dumbledore's desk. Flitwick and Sprout, as Harry recalled their names to be, shared a look of disappointment. Dumbledore and McGonagall both wore long faces before McGonagall sent a look of suspicion in Draco's direction and Dumbledore joined Snape in expressionlessness.
The only person openly happy with his Sorting was Draco. If it weren't for his smirk and his upbringing, Harry guessed that the blonde would be bouncing in his seat as if Christmas had come early.
"Well, that was interesting." Harry said finally after they had sat in silence for a minute or so.
"Indeed." Dumbledore said slowly. "I believe that concludes the Sorting. It is approaching curfew, and you two should get back to your rooms." The others in the room did not miss the abrupt dismissal of Harry and Draco. "Severus, if you would please stay behind for a moment." The man who had just vanished his chair and stood waiting to follow the boys out nodded slowly.
"Of course." He said curtly sitting back down in a newly conjured chair.
Draco looked uncertain at the clock and at his impassive godfather. He looked ready to comment until Harry sent him a quick look
Harry stood up. "Thank you for arranging this so quickly and at the last moment, headmaster." His jibe was met with a brilliant twinkle.
"I do my best, Mr. Potter."
Harry did not bother to respond to the man. He turned and left with a polite nod to those still seated.
Draco followed his example. He waved his wand, vanishing Harry's beanie chairs. They left the office with the several sets of eyes following their every move.
It wasn't until they reached the Slytherin common room that they spoke to one another over their bond.
They are up to something. Draco said as they ascended the stairs to their room.
He looked over to Harry. The raven-haired boy – man – stared impassively at the door to their chamber. Then we have to be ready.