Chapter Eleven: Introductions
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
"I am so sorry," was the first thing Draco said to him.
"For what?" Harry asked blankly. "Getting sorted into Slytherin?"
"Of course not," Draco said impatiently. "You got into the best house so that's fine, I'm talking about the issue of your rival."
Harry groaned. "Did you see his face when no one was paying attention to his sorting?"
Draco shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I was one of those people paying no attention to his sorting, after all."
"I've exchanged less than a dozen sentences with him and I really don't have a problem with him but I highly doubt that I can escape being his rival," Harry lamented.
"And that's why I'm sorry for you," Draco clarified.
Unfortunately, Harry still didn't get it. "But I thought you approved of Zacharias as my rival on the boat."
"I did," Draco admitted. "But then he got sorted into Hufflepuff. Having a Hufflepuff as a rival is just embarrassing."
"Having an epic rivalry declared because we happened to meet on the train and didn't become fast friends is stupid," Harry countered.
"If that helps you feel better about this then by all means, continue saying that," Draco said patronizingly.
"Why are you so surprised that he's in Hufflepuff anyway? He keeps talking about how he's descended from her and he clearly wanted to be there," Harry pointed out.
Draco shrugged. "I guess but I mean…Hufflepuff? Really? I guess I figured that, Hufflepuff blood or not, anyone related to a founder wouldn't be that lame. I mean, even Neville made Gryffindor and he likes gardening." The last bit was said in a whisper as if it were some sort of shameful secret.
Harry really didn't understand what the big deal was. He thought gardening was okay but found it too dull to really interest him, even when dealing with magical and dangerous plants.
"Starting to regret choosing Ron as your epic rival?" Harry inquired.
"A little," Draco admitted. "I'm just not sure that he'll be able to put forth enough of a showing to make it not look pathetic that he's my rival. I'll completely upstage him at every turn, of course, but there's such a thing as going too far and if you do then no one can take your choice seriously."
"And you can't just switch rivals?" Harry asked hesitantly.
Draco laughed. "Of course not. That would be completely ridiculous. There is a precedent that must be followed, you know."
"Of course," Harry agreed, hoping he sounded even remotely sincere.
"For the record, I'm glad you're in Slytherin," Draco told him cheerfully. "It really is the best house, you know, and our house colors will really bring out your eyes."
Harry refused to admit that he had already considered this. Even if his father had made it clear that wearing colors that didn't suit you would do you no favors and make you an eyesore, he still felt that it was a little embarrassing to openly talk about.
"I mean, look at the Weasleys. As if they needed anything more to make them a laughingstock, their hair clashes horribly with Gryffindor scarlet. Not that that stops them from insisting on adorning themselves in it, I see," Draco said snobbishly.
"I'm glad I was sorted somewhere where I already knew someone," Harry said carefully. "If I were in Gryffindor I'd know Hermione and Neville and even Ron but I don't actually know anyone from Ravenclaw and the only person I know from Hufflepuff is Zacharias."
"Not to mention that it's Hufflepuff," Draco said, as if that explained everything. "But I do see what you mean. Even had that house not been a joke, being in the same house with your rival is generally a no-no. All rivalry confrontations are supposed to be at least mildly hostile, after all, and how are you supposed to maintain that if you sleep in the same room? For that matter, how are you supposed to be able to lower your guard enough to sleep in the same room?"
Harry wondered vaguely if all these Pureblood parents had sat their children down and gave them a lecture about the importance of rivalry. He tried to remember if Gilderoy had mentioned anything about that but came up blank. "Although I was a bit…surprised at the fact that people were openly asking if they really wanted me. I was rather inclined to agree with whoever said that asking if they wanted the kid who is widely believed to have defeated You-Know-Who isn't exactly the most cunning thing to do."
"But then, not everyone who gets sorted into the cunning house necessarily fits my definition of 'cunning," the boy sitting across from Draco neatly inserted himself into the conversation. He was tall and thin with rich dark hair. "I'm Theodore Nott, by the way."
"It's nice to meet you," Harry said automatically, holding out his hand to shake. "What do you mean?"
"They need approximately a fourth of each new class in the four houses, right?" Theodore reasoned. "And we already have to split the smart one with Ravenclaw."
"You and your conspiracy theories," Draco said, rolling his eyes.
"You and your mindless acceptance of everything around you," Theodore mimicked.
"How in the world is that Hat supposed to be able to purposely keep things roughly equal? Sort the first kids by where they belong and start pigeonholing the rest?" Draco challenged.
"I'm sure I don't know," Theodore replied. "But that's because I'm not a millennia-old psychic hat. I'm sure that if I were, I'd have an answer for you. And you have to admit, if the hat were going by cunning alone, we would not be blessed with fellow Slytherins who openly debated if we even wanted the single most famous student at Hogwarts."
"I have to admit no such thing," Draco sniffed.
Theodore rolled his eyes and turned to speak to the black boy beside him.
"Theodore's fond of conspiracy theories," Draco said quietly to Harry. "I don't think he believes half of them, he just finds it amusing. So do I, actually, when I'm not seriously concerned for him."
"Who else is here?" Harry asked, jumping at this new opening. "I don't really know our new classmates."
"Well, there's Crabbe and Goyle, of course," Draco said, gesturing vaguely to the two huge boys. He still wasn't explaining which was which but Harry had been watching during their sorting and had learned that their first names were Vincent and Gregory, respectively. He doubted if this information would ever come in handy but it was always useful to be informed. "Theodore's sitting next to Blaise Zabini. His mother hasn't had much luck keeping her husbands alive, to put it mildly. Best not mention it, he gets a little touchy."
"Is he…fixing his hair?" Harry asked uncertainly. There was nothing wrong with appreciating proper hair care but while eating was really not the time. That couldn't possibly be sanitary.
"He's a bit vain, too," Draco acknowledged. "Then that's Daphne Greengrass, over there." He pointed to a pretty blonde girl whose hair was done up in Dutch braids. "She's a bit odd but nothing too bad. She did get into Slytherin, after all."
Harry wondered what, exactly, would get someone like Draco to find someone odd and if that meant that they were even more eccentric than he or else actually somewhat normal.
"That's Tracey Davis with the red hair. I know you may be tempted to but whatever you do, do not make a reference to her looking like a Weasley or being closer related to them than any Pureblood must be," Draco warned. "She can get violent."
As it happened, Harry hadn't had the slightest temptation to do anything of the sort and he really didn't think that Tracey looked that much like a Weasley. The ones he had seen all had bright orange hair and hers was a much darker red.
"Finally, there's Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson," Draco said, gesturing to a large girl with black hair who looked like he could probably make them both cry and a girl with long, straight dark hair whose face reminded Harry irresistibly of a pug…which he had sense enough not plan on never mentioning to her. Ever. "I'd be careful around Millicent if I were you. She has four cats and so her clothes always have fur on them. Pansy's okay but sometimes she gets a little clingy."
"So that's everyone in our year, I see. Thanks," Harry said politely.
"It's my duty to help those who should know but don't learn the ways of the wizarding world," Draco said, a faint air of superiority in his voice.
Harry valiantly resisted the urge to point out that he knew plenty about the 'ways of the wizarding world' and it was only the students of Hogwarts that he needed to be introduced to. "Anyone else?"
"Well…there's Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch captain," Draco said, indicating a boy who looked like there might be some troll blood in him. "He's a sixth year. And our ghost is the Bloody Baron. No one knows how he died but we all pretty much agree that he must have taken at least a dozen other people with him. Our Head of House is Professor Snape. He's the best head because he's the only one who openly favors his house."
"That doesn't sound very subtle," Harry noted.
Draco shrugged. "Well the other houses all openly discriminate against us so it's only fair. He's really into the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry so I imagine Potions with the Gryffs should be interesting." Well, interesting was one word for it. Personally, Harry didn't think that engaging in a house-rivalry (or any other kind of rivalry for that matter) when surrounded by dangerous chemicals was at all a good idea. Or a sane one.
"Which one is he?" Harry asked, glancing towards the staff table.
"He's seated three chairs to the left – our left – of Professor Dumbledore," Draco directed.
Harry's eyes slid over from the man in the large purple turban to the sallow-skinned man with a curtain of greasy dark hair (he had heard something about that before, he thought, but he couldn't remember what). Snape met his eyes as the man with the turban turned around and suddenly there was a burning pain in his scar.
"Are you alright?" Draco asked, sounding almost concerned. Harry wondered just how odd or hurt he looked to get Draco to not only notice but to actually bring himself to ask about it.
"Killer headache," Harry told him. "Who's the guy with the turban?"
"Um…that would be Professor Quirrell, I believe. He teaches Muggle Studies and even if you were the sort to care about things like that, you can't take it until third year," Draco informed him. His tone implied that he didn't think Harry was that sort but Harry honestly wasn't sure one way or the other. He wasn't entirely sure that his knowledge of Muggles was good enough and not being able to blend it would put a lot of unnecessary restrictions on him when he got older. "I hear he wanted to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year before your father agreed to take the position."
Well that was strange. Even if he did remember Gilderoy telling him that Snape hated his father and thus might not like him, someone just not liking him wouldn't make his scar hurt. Nor, for that matter, would someone just being evil. He'd have to ask his father about it. Chances were that Gilderoy wouldn't know and he'd have to go to the library but anything useful was bound to be in the restricted section so he'd need to get Gilderoy involved anyway.
After the feast was over, Gilderoy headed to a staff meeting. He rather felt that this was a waste of his time because the only thing that had happened was the students had been sorted but maybe the teachers wanted a chance to gossip over that.
Sure enough, the minute Dumbledore asked if anyone had anything pressing they needed to discuss, Snape practically shot to his feet. "Potter, Headmaster? Really? Potter?"
"I'm not sure what you're talking about Severus," Dumbledore said innocently, examining the painting behind Snape in great detail. "I'm nearly positive that I did, in fact, inform you that he would be attending Hogwarts this year."
"I know that," Snape said impatiently. "I'm referring to the fact that somehow or other he managed to end up in my house! How could this happen?"
"I'm told that a certain cunningness or ambition is generally involved," McGonagall said dryly.
Snape snorted. "Cunning and ambition from a Potter? The damned hat must be trying to meet a quota."
"This might be a good thing, Severus," Dumbledore spoke up. "Having young Harry under your care could help mend Slytherin's tragically tarnished reputation and perhaps provide a bit of closure for you, as well. A chance to see that he's not a clone of James."
Snape shot Gilderoy a look. "I'm not so sure about that," he muttered.
"Alas, I didn't know Harry's biological father so any resemblances you might spot are either genetic or coincidental," Gilderoy claimed.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Snape accused Dumbledore.
"I enjoy a great many things about Hogwarts," Dumbledore replied. "That's why I'm the Headmaster."
"I feel obliged to let you know right now how this is not going to turn out," Snape said flatly.
"That's thoughtful of you," Dumbledore remarked. "Do go on."
"I'm not going to start off irrationally hating Potter because of his parents even if he did make a pained face and cover his eyes the minute he saw me," Snape began.
"That's certainly big of you, Severus," Dumbledore said jovially. "I feel inspired already."
Gilderoy, meanwhile, was wondering if perhaps he'd have to let Harry know about this meeting.
"After that doesn't happen, I'm not going to be forced to spend time with him in my classes and as the head of his house and start to see a new side of him," Snape continued. "Particularly as I'm not going to find out that he was abused or neglected or had some other tragic problem growing up other than his mother's death."
"And his father's," Sprout reminded him.
"Yes, that," Snape said dismissively.
"I should say not!" Gilderoy exclaimed. "Harry had a great childhood and he was very happy."
"So you say," Dumbledore remarked almost casually.
"So Harry says," Gilderoy countered.
"Well Harry is a very loyal child," Dumbledore replied. "But Severus seems to agree. What won't happen then?"
"I'm certainly not going to see a side of him that I hadn't before and see some of myself or any random relatives of him that aren't his father in him. I'm not going to be drawn to his modesty, intelligence, kindness, or any other virtue you can think of," Snape declared passionately.
"Well, now I think you're just limiting yourself," Dumbledore complained. "Would it really be so bad if that did happen?"
"It doesn't really matter if it would or would not be since it won't," Snape insisted. "And finally, I will most certainly not become his favorite teacher and or his mentor. I simply will not do it and this will not become an inspirational story. It will not."
"If you say so, Severus," Dumbledore said mildly.
"You don't believe me, do you?" Snape demanded.
"Is it really important if I believe you or not?" Dumbledore inquired. "It either will happen or, as you say, it won't regardless of my personal belief, after all."
"I don't trust you not to meddle 'for the greater good' to try to achieve that outcome," Snape said pointedly.
"Then I am wounded by your lack of trust in me," Dumbledore said sadly. "Really, Severus, we've known each other for years."
"I think that might be why he doesn't trust you not to meddle," Flitwick spoke up.
Several of the other teachers nodded.
"Me? A meddler?" Dumbledore sounded shocked though there was a twinkle in his eye. "I simply don't know where these blatantly untrue and unfounded accusations are coming from."
"Perhaps from witnessing your past behavior?" McGonagall asked innocently. "Just a thought."
"So you all think that I'm planning on…what was the term you used?" Dumbledore asked.
"Meddling," Sinistra supplied.
Dumbledore nodded. "Right, thanks. Meddling in young Harry's life?"
The teacher's exchanged a look.
"We would actually be a little worried if you didn't," Sprout said finally.
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