"We need to find Harry!"

As soon as the students were freed from Umbridge's preposterous sorting ceremony, Hermione rose from her seat. None of the students had decided to stay for dessert, as they felt exhausted and shaken by this shocking turn of events.

Ron couldn't get over what had just happened. Although he was relieved to be in Gryffindor, the news that his best friend, his brother, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was a Slytherin left him speechless.

"I can't see him…" Ginny sighed as she tried to find a red dot among the green robes.

Harry must have been one of the first to leave the Great Hall, even before Umbridge had finished her speech.

"Let's meet him at the dormitory then," Ron said.

The group of Gryffindors rushed toward the hallway; even Dean and Seamus were following their classmates.

"He can't be a Slytherin; it's a trap, did you see Umbridge's face? Her disgusting smile when the sorting hat yelled Slytherin?" Hermione sounded outraged and was walking so fast that the rest of the group had to jog to catch up.

"But... why put him in Slytherin? What for?" Asked Ron.
Hermione shook her head; plenty of ideas flooded her mind. They turned right, a couple of meters from the Gryffindor tower.
"Isolating him, making him more vulnerable, closer to the enemy, easier to manipulate..." The list was extensive, and the longer she made it, the scarier it got.

She snapped the password at the fat lady and rushed into the common room, her attention directed toward the stairs.

"He must be in your room," she said to Ron, who nodded.

Hermione climbed the stairs two at a time and entered the fifth year dormitory, followed closely by Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus. Harry was in the room, facing away from them and standing in front of his bed. He was packing his bag as Hermione and Ron gently walked up to him.

"Harry..." she called hesitantly.

His friend paused for a moment, a folded hoodie in his hand, but didn't answer. When he went back to putting his things away as if no one had interrupted him, Hermione approached and stopped beside him. Ron hesitated and then finally sat up on his bed, not far from his best friend.

"Harry" she repeated, "are you okay?"

He didn't look up from his suitcase. What could he answer? Of course he was not well; how could he be okay?

"Harry, we'll figure it out together..."

"Figure out what?" He snapped,

She gulped but kept her gaze on him, even if he was now busy packing his pants.

"What's happening, why you ended up in Slytherin..."

"You heard the sorting hat; there's nothing to figure out."

Hermione frowned. She cast a quick glance at Ron sitting behind Harry. He shrugged, looking as puzzled as she did.

"Harry, you don't believe it's true, do you?"

He briefly raised his head to look at her;

"What do you mean?"

"You're not a Slytherin, Harry; it's impossible! It must be a trap, or a way for the minister to make you look more like a liar!"

"Hermione is right, mate, if you're a Slytherin, nobody in this school is a Gryffindor, it's bloody messed up," added Ron.

Harry stared at the mattress, holding his cloak of invisibility tightly. They didn't know what the sorting hat had told him in his first year, they didn't know he had as much chance of being a Slytherin as being a Gryffindor— But he was too ashamed to talk, even more so when Dean and Seamus were in the same room. He shook his head and continued to pack.

"Look at what you've accomplished these past four years..." Neville said from the back of the room. Hermione gave him a grateful smile before turning her attention back on Harry, who sadly didn't seem to believe them.

"What does it change in the end? I still have to go." The dark-haired boy muttered.

"It means that it's not normal, Harry! You shouldn't change your house! Especially right now, when You-know-who has returned and you need to practice occlumency!" Hermione exclaimed.

A voice came from the stairs, making Neville walk out the door to check what was going on downstairs. Harry felt tired, exhausted, as if being in this room with his friends was as hard as being in the Slytherin common room. The feeling of shame and guilt was rising in him at each argument Hermione was giving.

"Listen," he sighed, "we can't do anything; it's not as if we could go to Dumbledore. So it's fine; I'll just go, alright? And I'll be careful."

Neville came back from the stairs and glanced at Harry with a sorry look.

"Professor McGonagall is in the common room, she said the prefects need to go help the new students get into their new dorms..." He spoke in a weak voice.

Hermione and Ron slowly got up, both staring at their best friend, who was heavily closing his suitcase.

"It's fine, go." Harry said,

Hermione walked over and put her hand on his arm before giving him a tight hug. But Harry had a hard time returning her embrace. His heart was pounding, and nausea rose in his stomach.

"It's fine; I'll be fine."

"Promise me you'll be careful," she sniffled, wiping away the tears that had formed in the corner of her eyes.

"I promise"

"We're going to find a solution; we won't let you go, we promise," Ron said. He patted Harry's shoulder and headed to the stairs, followed by Hermione. "We'll see you tomorrow," his best friends promised as they disappeared through the door.

Dean and Seamus were seated on their respective beds and pretended to be busy with their homework, even though Harry knew they were listening in on their entire conversation. He sighed and picked up his suitcase, along with Hedwig's cage. Neville was still in front of the door, looking sad and distraught.

"I believe Malfoy and Pansy are waiting for you outside the common room..."

What an honor to have the two all to himself…

"Thanks, Neville, I'll see you later." He passed him with a small smile and descended the stairs, where he found himself in front of a horde of students who fell silent as soon as he set foot in the room. McGonagall stood near the twins and Ginny, watching him with worried eyes. Was this the last time he would see the Gryffindor common room? The one where he had spent all his evenings, the one he had called home as soon as he had arrived four years ago? He glanced down at the fireplace; they had spent so many evenings on that couch, him, Hermione, and Ron—he had even talked to Sirius here.

It's okay, it's okay. It's just a room...

He sighed and walked slowly towards the door, unable to look the Weasleys or his teacher in the eyes. Yet he felt McGonagall's wrinkled hand brush his arm, and she whispered to him;

"Remember to close your mind and shut down your emotions. Don't let your feelings take over, especially at night."

He nodded before she added with clamped lips, "and stay safe."

He nodded a second time and went through the door. Malfoy was leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, and staring into space, while Pansy paced around impatiently. They turned to Harry when they heard the door, and Pansy sighed.

"Take your time, Potter" she huffed, rolling her eyes.

Harry glanced at her; she had this annoying smugness in her look and way of talking, making her automatically despicable.

"Okay, thank you," he answered.

Draco scoffed, then straightened up from the wall. "Very funny, Potter; now if we can go, I have other things to do than babysit you."

The blond teenager sighed and walked past Pansy, who hurriedly followed him, like a little girl in love with her prince charming. Harry grimaced; he just wanted to leave.

"So you didn't want to be a Slytherin Potter, I wonder why, you'd have a lot of potential here" Malfoy said without looking at him.

"Oh really…" he answered with disdain.

"Too bad you chose to be in the loser category rather than the superior one with us. You are terrible at picking your friends"

Harry took a big breath and held it, trying to relax himself.

Calm down, it's just the beginning.

Anyway, I suppose we misjudged you; perhaps in the end, we're not that different." Malfoy added, a smirk appearing in the corner of his mouth.

"In your dreams…"

The way to the Slytherin dormitory was endless. Harry had stopped responding to the provocations of his worst enemy, who ended up leaving him alone when he realized Harry would not get into his game. The former Gryffindor indeed remained as silent as possible behind the two prefects, as if his silence could make him disappear. But Pansy kept casting him sidelong glances in an apparent attempt to make sure he hadn't slipped away or even evaporated.

"So Potter, Cho dumped you on Valentine's Day? I heard the scene was pathetic. Well, coming from you, it's not surprising... I will never understand how she could be interested in you after being with Cedric," she said suddenly, a hint of disgust in her voice.

Relax, relax, relax, follow McGonagall's advice.

He had dozens of meaner replies than the others to send them; the situation was more than tempting, but he absolutely needed to close his mind before going to sleep, and starting an argument about Cedric was the best way to lose control.

"Not very talkative, Potter, no wonder she left, you're boring."

Shut up, shut up, shut up

"I guess I am, yes, so maybe you should just ignore me then."

"We've arrived." Malfoy cut them off as they finally reached the dungeon. "After you," he said as he let Harry go in before them.

The entrance to the dorm looked even gloomier than he remembered it from his second year.

There was nothing that made you want to spend time in this room. The colors were cold and dark, the atmosphere heavy, and the decorations resembled the hideous Blacks' mansion. All eyes were on him, from the 1st and 2nd years looking surprised and frightened, to the elders staring at him with judgmental grins. He reluctantly followed Malfoy into the boys' dormitory, the only advantage of which was to get away from all those looks and Pansy's remarks.

The room was surprisingly not that different from the Gryffindor's one, except that the beds were dominated by the color green. Harry laid his suitcase heavily on the extra bed, where a neatly ironed and folded uniform was placed in its center. He felt relieved that Hedwig was at the Owlery, he didn't want her to stress out like he did. He recognized the different faces around him: Crabbe and Goyle, of course; Blaise; another student he believed was named Theodore Nott; Pike, and the worst of all, Malfoy. He tried to avoid their stares, even if it was hard to ignore them when they were all over the room.

"You could at least greet your roommates." Blaise sneered behind him.

Harry closed his eyes and waited a few seconds, his heart pounding against his ribcage. He ended up turning to his interlocutor.

"Hello." he merely said.

"Don't think we're happy to welcome you, Potter; it's just as much torture for us." He spat,

"Having to put up with your whining and making sure you don't pass out every couple of minutes, so exhausting," Goyle added, causing his friends to burst out laughing.

Even though it was becoming increasingly difficult, Harry focused on maintaining his composure. He was at a loss for words, everything they said was meant to provoke him. He swiftly looked around as if he were busy discovering his room rather than listening to them.

"Don't worry, Potter, we'll make you feel at home." Blaise smirked, clearly unbothered by Harry's silence.

Harry met his gaze. Blaise was much taller than him. In fact, he was taller than everyone, even Goyle. There was something in his eyes that screamed evil, or stupidity, or perhaps both.

"I'm going to bed," Harry muttered as he turned back to his suitcase and started slowly unpacking.

The teenagers behind him snorted. Blaise walked into the bathroom, passing right by Harry on the way. He stopped a few inches away and whispered in his ear. "I suggest you behave carefully, Potter, you're not in a position of strength here."

Harry turned his head toward him, but he had already left.

"Sleep well, Potter, don't get too afraid of your curtains," Malfoy added with a laugh as he headed to his bed, which was unfortunately, right next to Harry's.

It would be long, very long.

(***)

Does the lion have scales?

Harry Potter, a Slytherin? The shocking news that disrupted Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After entrusting the direction of Hogwarts to the talented and competent Dolores Umbridge, each Hogwarts student has been encouraged to retake the four-house test with more accuracy from the sorting hat. It was thus, thanks to the professionalism of the Ministry, that Harry Potter was placed in Slytherin, to the greatest surprise of all. It is well known, however, that the young wizard, known as the boy who lived, always displayed Gryffindor-specific behavior, as did his parents before him. So what is Harry Potter really hiding? Is he as exemplary as he used to pretend? He is not unaware that the young Potter speaks Parseltongue, a poisoned gift reserved for descendants of Salazar Slytherin, so it would not be so surprising to see the young man in the house of the snake. But what would his parents think? How would they have reacted to their son being sorted into Slytherin? Those who sacrificed themselves to protect their son from "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,", the greatest dark wizard and former Slytherin student?

So many questions pique the wizarding world's interest; Harry Potter appears to be far more mysterious than he first appeared to be.

(***)

Harry had been watching his reflection in the bathroom mirror for ten minutes now. After a lengthy shower this morning, he had changed into his new robe. It looked wrong, off, weird. And the most upsetting part was that he looked great. The green robes made him look way better than the red ones. It better complemented his tanned skin, and highlighted his green eyes perfectly. Merlin, he hated it.

The only positive thing about this night was the lack of nightmares. It was at least something he could share with his friends to reassure them. However, he should avoid telling them why he hadn't had any nightmares. The proper answer should be that he closed his mind and practiced occlumency like he was told to do. But, in fact, it was easier to avoid nightmares if you didn't sleep at all. Harry had kept his eyes open the entire night. Not only did his mind flood with questions and inner thoughts, but he also felt unsafe in this dorm. He was used to Ron's snoring, it had become almost like a lullaby for him, a blank noise he didn't notice anymore. But Crabbe's snoring was different; it was bothersome and loud (certainly not louder than Ron's), but too different, too alien. Malfoy was also too close; he was surrounded by the death eater's sons—the same death eater who had watched him being tortured in the graveyard. He felt so scared of dreaming about this night again, of witnessing Cedric's death for the umpteenth time; he was so afraid of yelling his name in the middle of the night and waking up the others. So he stayed awake.

He didn't feel so tired though; the lump in his stomach was still so present that it kept him awake and alert, as if his body was doing everything to protect him. Harry heard a noise behind the door, then a loud knock. He looked at himself one last time in the mirror, sighed, and went to open the door. Malfoy stood on the threshold, his hand still raised as if to knock a second time.

"You're taking so long, a real princess." Draco chuckled as he crossed his arms.

"Didn't know you were waiting," Harry grumbled. He walked forward, but his enemy blocked his way.

The young blond looked him up and down with a smirk.

"Suits you well, Potter"

Harry glared at him, then pushed him with his shoulder to pass. "Fuck off"

"I can't wait to see your friend's reaction when they see you dressed entirely in green."

"You know, not everyone spends their life judging others," Harry muttered as he finished dressing up. He heard a noise coming from Goyle's bed, and hurried to tie his shoes. He quietly made his way up the stairs, carefully avoiding being spotted by Malfoy, who was washing his face in the bathroom. But the boy turned off the tap and looked at him through the mirror.

"Wait for me in the common room; I have things to give you."

"Like what?" Harry asked with a frown.

If Malfoy's eye-rolling were deadly, the whole castle would be a graveyard. "Your schedule, for example, dumbass".

Harry felt stupid. He was so defensive that he only imagined the worst scenarios. He nodded briefly and walked down the stairs to the dim common room, where only a faint beam of morning light warmed a corner of the black leather couch. Harry slumped heavily on this square of sunshine and waited painfully for his classmate to join him. It was still early enough that only a few students were already up. Only a handful of teenagers, a group of two seventh years, and a young girl no older than twelve were seated in various corners of the room. While the two mature students didn't seem to mind him, the little Slytherin stared at Harry insistently, until a simple motion from him made her jump in surprise. Harry pretended not to notice and continued to play with the crease of his pants. He didn't understand why the first years were so scared of him; what could they have heard about him? Was it only because he was Harry Potter? The girl eventually got up and dashed toward the exit when Malfoy appeared. The young man sat down on an armchair close to him and took out a parchment with a sigh.

"Here, our schedule." He groaned as he threw the paper into Harry's lap. Harry looked down at the board, and what he had dreaded happened. They had almost no classes with the Gryffindors, except for potions on Fridays. Malfoy seemed to notice his disappointment and he smiled.

"I think Umbridge did everything to prevent you from being too close to your old house, it's rather nice of her, she avoids you envying them too much."

Harry bit his tongue to avoid answering. Deep down, he didn't know if it was such a bad thing to be away from his friends, it saved him some humiliation. But he knew very well that she had done this to isolate him even more, and he knew deep down that it was not positive in the long term.

"You wanted to give me something else?" Harry muttered as he put his schedule back in his bag.

Malfoy sighed and crossed his legs, leaning back a little more comfortably in his chair.

"Montague wants you to take the test against me for the seeker position."

A long silence settled in the room, before Harry laughed nervously.

"Excuse me?" He must not have heard properly.

"Don't make me repeat Potter, do you want to take the test or not?"

Harry shook his head, it didn't make any sense.

"Why would your captain want me on his team?! What proves I won't do anything to lose your games?"

Malfoy frowned "Who says you're going to pass the test in the first place? I'm not really worried for my position."

He uncrossed his legs and straightened up. "But he thinks you're a good player, he's the only one to think that, obviously, but he's the captain, and he wants the best team possible." The words seemed to scrape his throat, which satisfied Harry.

"And he knows your ego would never let you lose a game."

That wasn't entirely wrong, Harry thought, but there was another problem.

"I'm banned from quidditch," he reminded him with a glare. It was indeed Malfoy's fault that this had happened.

But Malfoy had anticipated his remark.

"Look, it was Umbridge's idea to give you a second chance. Don't think I'm happy to have to question my position. So you accept or you decline, but stop with your questions."

Harry looked at him for a long time; his roommate was starting to blush with impatience and frustration, which made him change his mind about the offer. "Okay." He declared.

He suspected Umbridge just wanted to see him play against his old house and incur the wrath of the students, but taking the test against Malfoy, as well as flying back on a broomstick was too tempting. Malfoy turned his head sharply toward him.

"Okay?"

He nodded and grabbed his bag before standing up. "Yes, I will take the test; how can I refuse after all?" He shrugged. "I'm going to eat."

Malfoy looked shocked at his decision, as if he had only prepared for the eventuality that he would refuse. He got up in turn and shoved Harry without a word, thus passing in front of him.

Harry was in no hurry to eat; in fact, he wasn't hungry at all. But between waiting in front of a classroom alone in a corridor where any Slytherin could show up, and being in the great hall surrounded by professors and other houses, his instinct told him to go towards the crowd. Either way, he would end up being stared at, so he might as well do it now. He took a deep breath and crossed the threshold of the great hall. To his relief, there weren't many students in the room yet. However, he spotted Ron and Hermione sitting side by side, and his heart sank again.

All eyes were on him; his green tie suffocated him; his clothes seemed too tight against his neck and stomach; he felt humiliated to stand in this room wearing green. His embarrassment doubled when his legs moved naturally towards the Gryffindor table, like a reflex he would struggle to abandon. He noticed his worried friends pursing their lips and quickly switched directions toward the Slytherin table. The looks from the professors, though not malevolent except for Umbridge's, made him deeply uncomfortable. He didn't dare look at Snape, his new Head of House, but a thought crossed his mind: how would Snape act with him now that he was in his house? Would he still take points away from him, or would he be too proud to make his house lose? The idea made him smile slightly, but he quickly brushed it off his face. He sat as far away from Malfoy as possible, and his eyes fell on his portrait displayed in the Daily Prophet, the newspaper lying on the table. The photo had been taken last year, during the Triwizard Tournament, and the lion symbol embroidered on his uniform was morphing into a snake.

"An article about you Potter? Already?" sneered Pansy, who had just arrived and had taken a seat next to Malfoy.

Harry decided not to read the article; it wasn't worth it. He dipped his lips in his pumpkin juice, which tasted stale in his mouth, and sat there staring blankly for several minutes until he felt a hand land on his shoulder. He jumped and whirled around, finding the familiar faces of Hermione and Ron, who both sat down next to him, ignoring the Slytherins' criticisms.

"Hey," he whispered.

"Hey Harry…" Hermione noticed the newspaper not far from her friend and jerked it around, where games and classifieds filled the last page.

"How are you, mate?" asked Ron on his other side.

Harry shrugged, his first night could have been worse. "I'm okay"

"Umbridge changed our schedule, this evil toad..."

Harry glanced at Hermione and noticed Umbridge's stare from the high table. She looked upset to see the two Gryffindors at his table. Harry held her evil gaze for a few seconds, then refocused on his friend.

"What class do you have today?" He innocently asked.

"Transfiguration, Muggle Studies, History of Magic, and Herbology."

Harry withdrew his schedule from his bag and reopened it on the table. "I guess we'll see each other in the corridors, I have the same classes but in a different order…"

More and more students entered the room, forcing his two friends to stand when the fifth-year Slytherins took a seat at the table.

"You have no business there, filthy Gryffindors; don't mess up our table," Goyle blurted out.

"We already have Potter; that's enough," Crabbe added.

"I think we're still allowed to sit where we want during breakfast," Ron spat, causing Malfoy's two bodyguards to snicker.

"For now" Goyle said with a smile.

They frowned at the remark, and Harry addressed his friends, "Don't worry, I'm done eating anyway."

Hermione glanced down at his totally empty plate, which didn't even have a single crumb of bread on it, and his full glass of juice. She wanted to say something, but Ron stood up and shook his head at her as if to tell her to hold back.

Hermione pursed her lips but obliged. "Tell us if you have any problems, Harry," she whispered close to his ears. He nodded, and Ron patted him on the shoulder in encouragement. "We'll try to meet up later."

They moved away from the table, and headed straight for the exit. "He looks tired," she pointed out to Ron, who shrugged.

"He's been looking tired since the beginning of the year..."

She glared at him, making him directly apologize.

"We have to be there for him, Ron, and keep an eye out for all the little signs. He'll never tell us if he is in trouble…"

They took a last look at the Slytherin table, Harry had just gotten up from his seat, under the mocking gazes of his tablemates, who were brandishing the article in front of his eyes.

"He'll have to be strong." Ron added with a sigh.