Chapter Two
The sun filtered through the windows of the Slytherin boy's dormitories in watery rays. Harry blearily opened his eyes, half expecting to once again be locked in the confines of his cupboard and realise it had all been a wonderful dream, but was instead graced with the sight of dark green and silver curtains, and the sound of his steadily snoring room mates. Harry glanced to his left, where Draco slept, only to be surprised at the sight of the bed empty. He clambered from his bed, glancing at the old watch he had stolen from Dudley. It was barely six in the morning. He let out a yawn and stretched, hearing his back crack satisfyingly. He grabbed a towel out of his trunk, along with some clean robes, before heading down to where he vaguely recalled the bathrooms were. The room was large, with green tiles and six shower cubicles lined up in a military manner, one of them was occupied, presumably by Draco. Harry stepped into one of the cubicles, hanging his robes and towel over the door before turning on the shower. The hot water hit him instantly, loosening very muscle in his body. Harry tilted his head back and allowed the water to trickle across his face, all the while pondering what type of magic they would be learning today, the idea still sent waves of excitement through his body, the novelty of being in a school for sorcery having yet to wear off.
A long while later, Harry dried himself down, before tugging on his robes. Stepping out of the cubicle, he noted that Draco must have finished already, and grinned, running a hand through his wet hair, which still managed to look wild and messy. He practically bounced down the corridor back to his room before stopping at the door and rearranging his face into something less exuberant. Stepping into the room, he saw Crabbe and Goyle, clearly having just awoken, ambling in the direction of the door he had just entered. Draco lay sprawled on his bed, reading a book on potions quietly. He looked up at Harry as he approached and said casually,
"Professor Snape, my godfather, likes to pick one student at the beginning of each year to spring a pop quiz on. It's rarely a Slytherin, but best try and revise before our first lesson anyway." Harry nodded in answer, then jumped as the curtains behind him sprang open, revealing a boy who was already fully dressed, leaving Harry to wonder how early he must have been up in order to shower without anyone noticing.
"It's not like you have anything to worry about, Malfoy." the boy said, a smirk adorning his features. He had dark curly hair and heavily lidded eyes which were appraising as he looked upon his two housemates, "Snape adores you." Malfoy's face, which had been relatively open when talking to Harry, closed off.
"And you are?" he asked, voice turning back into the drawl that Harry recognised from when Draco was dealing with Weasley. The boy extended a hand lazily,
"Blaise Zabini, a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Draco's eyes flitted to Harry briefly, who shrugged, before he leaned forwards and accepted the boy's handshake.
"I guess I don't need to introduce myself then." he said, voice carefully neutral. Harry watched, fascinated at the subtle politics playing out in front of him, before the boy turned to him, dark eyes making him feel as though he was under a magnifying glass. He fought down his discomfort, maintaining a blank face and following his friend's lead.
"And Harry Potter." the boy said, eyes remaining on his face, without a flicker of a glance towards his scar, "It seems I'm in a room with two pretty public figures. An interesting choice of friends you've made here, Potter." Harry felt, rather then saw Draco tense from his bed, and internally struggled between asking why his choice in friends was 'interesting' and maintaining the facade of neutrality evidently so popular amongst his housemates. In the end he decided on the latter, making a note to question Malfoy on the boy's words later.
"Indeed." he said, noncommittally, "It seems that I'm not meeting a lot of people's expectations in this school." he accepted the boy's hand, tightening his grip slightly. The boy nodded, accepting his response, and Harry's glance to the left showed that Draco had relaxed from his position, and was pretending to be reading his potions book once more. Suddenly the curtains burst open once more, but there was less of an intentional dramatic flair then that of Blaise Zabini, as a boy toppled from bed, blue eyes wide in panic.
"What time is it?" he yelped, Harry glanced at his watch,
"Half past seven." he said, the boy let out a yelp, grabbing his stuff from his trunk and sprinting down to the bathroom. The three remaining occupants stared in bemused silence at the boy's retreating form, before Blaise said,
"Well then…" Draco shrugged, still trying to give the impression of reading. Harry wandered over to his trunk, grabbing his own potions book and settling onto his bed. Zabini, who had watched the movement attentively, settled on his own bed, casually using his wand to make casual swirls of smoke. Harry tried to fight the urge to ask him how he was doing his trick, and felt Draco trying not to give into the temptation too. Harry was the first to break,
"How do you do that?" he asked, and Blaise looked up, evidently satisfied at the attention,
"Magic." he said simply, Harry scowled, and Malfoy snorted slightly, the boy grinned, "I'll show you how, if you want." he said, "On one condition, you call me Blaise." Draco was watching, blue eyes riveted to the scene,
"Fine." said Harry, wondering if there was something he was missing in the use of a first name, "If you call me Harry." Blaise nodded, relaxing from where he sat, Draco leaned forwards,
"Same rules apply for me, Zabini?" he asked, an unusual flicker of hesitation showing on his face, the boy nodded, Draco grinned, "Then I'm in."
Blaise leaned forwards, and began to explain how to do the trick. Before long, Crabbe and Goyle returned, the other boy, who's name Harry had yet to learn, tailing closely behind them. They finally made their way down to the common room, fortunately on the dot of eight. The head boy and girl nodded appreciatively at them, though the girls were already there. They once again travelled through a maze of stairways until they were finally outside the great hall. As they walked towards their table, Harry muttered to Draco,
"What's the significance of calling someone by their first name?" The boy seemed to choke on air, coughing, before spluttering to Harry,
"How can you not know? That's like one of the most basic parts of Pureblood tradition!" Harry blinked, feeling, if possible, more lost then before,
"Pureblood tradition?" he asked, Draco gaped at him,
"Were you raised by muggles or something?" he asked incredulously, "Surely your guardians must have taught you something about your heritage?!" Harry had fallen silent, and Draco paled drastically, "You…" he cleared his throat, "You weren't raised by muggles, were you?" Harry didn't answer, feeling a flush creep up his neck for reasons he couldn't explain. Draco blanched, "Blimey, I made friends with a muggle lover!" his voice went high, "father is going to kill me."
"I'm not a muggle lover!" Harry cried indignantly, whilst trying to maintain a whisper. They slid into their seats at the lunch table, "My aunt and uncle were horrendous people!"
"Muggles aren't people!" Draco hissed back.
"I'm inclined to agree with you!" Harry said. Whilst he didn't really harbour much hatred towards muggles in general, the thought of loosing his first friend, as well as his deep loathing for his family members fuelled his words, "Look," he said, "If me being raised by muggles puts you off being my friend, fine, Malfoy," Harry emphasised the use of the boy's surname before he continued, "But I don't like muggles any more then you do, and while I may not know anything about pureblood traditions, I am willing to learn. Besides, it's not like there's not stuff you're not telling me, what did Blaise mean when he said that you were an unusual choice in a friend, anyway?" Draco opened and closed his mouth several times before he managed to speak,
"Look, Potter… Harry, If you'll still let me call you that, I didn't mean to offend you, my father just raised me with a proper sense of disgust towards muggles, my disgust doesn't extend to you, and if you're willing, I could lend you books on pureblood tradition." at Harry's short nod, he continued, "As for what Blaise said," Draco coughed uncomfortably, "there are some people, who claim that my father worked for… You Know Who during the war. Obviously, my father was under the imperious curse, which forces people to do things against their will, but bad reputations stick, and Blaise was referencing that you might hold my father, and thus, me, accountable for what happened in the war." Harry nodded slowly, computing what the boy had said,
"Thank you for being honest with me, I guess." Harry said, spooning an egg onto his plate before beginning to eat, "What does it mean to call someone by their first name?" Draco grinned at the change of topic, relieved that the brief spat was over,
"It's a sign of trust, it's basically your way of saying that if Blaise is in trouble, and you are able to intervene, then you will do it." Harry nodded, thoughtfully,
"So, like, a sign of friendship?" Draco smirked at him,
"Friendship is such a Hufflepuff word, dear Harry. We prefer the term, 'allies'" Harry rolled his eyes.
"I think we're friends Draco, Slytherin or not." the boy laughed, bouncing back with a single word response of,
"allies"
"friends." Came Harry's witty repertoire,
"allies."
"friends." The two boys went on for several minutes in such a manner, before dissolving into giggles almost unbefitting two eleven year old boys. Though neither said it both were relieved at having avoided the loss of their first friend in the wizarding world.
"Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy." A cold voice interrupted their laughter, and they looked up, startled, Professor Snape towered over them, dark hair falling like a curtain on either side of his carefully blank face.
"Uncle Sev!" Draco exclaimed quietly, the man's facial expression didn't change, but his eyes almost imperceptibly softened,
"I have told you not to call me that on school premises, Mr Malfoy." Professor Snape said, Draco grinned brightly,
"But classes haven't started yet!" he wheedled, blue eyes wide and imploring. Harry watched the interaction with interest, when suddenly Snape met his gaze darkly,
"Have something to say, Potter?" The man barked, all softness gone from his facial features. Harry flinched in surprise,
"No Sir." He said nervously, Draco was looking at his godfather in bafflement, but a warning look from the man stopped him from saying anything,
"How you managed to get into the house of the cunning and ambitious is beyond me, Potter." the man said, voice cold, "But I expect you to represent Slytherin as best you can, nonetheless. While you will never reach the level of others in your peer group," Snape's eyes flickered to Draco, who was pale and reproachful under the man's gaze, "You will not embarrass our house, or the repercussions will be severe." With these words, the man handed both boys their schedules, before walking further down the table, cloak swishing behind him as he went.
"What in the name of Merlin was that all about?" breathed Draco, "I've never seen him act like that with anyone before." Harry merely shrugged, scowling slightly before digging back into his food without comment, Draco watched the retreating form of his Godfather for several more moments, before he too returned to eating. Harry glanced at his schedule and let out a quiet curse,
"First class is potions, any guesses as to who's going to be getting that pop quiz?" he asked, smiling slightly. Draco snorted, before the two of them, followed by Crabbe and Goyle, grabbed their things and headed in the direction of Potions.
The two boys slid into seats next to each other without comment, and watched silently as their classmates gradually filed in. Weasley, the red headed boy from the day before, scowled in their direction, but passed no comment, which was probably a good thing, as both boys were too riled up from the incident with Snape to not leap at an opportunity to argue, Harry pulled out his books, and laid them on the table, Draco following suit, before Snape billowed into the classroom like a dark cloud of destruction.
"Wands away." he snapped, *** "There will be no foolish wand waving in this class.I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." silence followed the speech, the first years stared at the man, enraptured, when suddenly, "Potter!" the barked shout made Harry jump, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" called it, Harry though to himself, he shut his eyes, and tried to remember the answer, he had read it literally that morning, but Blaise had been doing the cool trick with the smoke, and he'd been distracted and- got it.
"Is it a sleeping potion, sir?" Harry asked, the man opened his mouth to respond, and Harry blurted, as the name came to him, "the Draft of Living Death!" he smiled slightly at his recall of the fact. The potions professor's expression, if anything, darkened at his minor victory,
"Impressive Potter, you managed to read the first page of the potions text book, would you like a trophy?" Harry's ears burned, and he heard Weasley snickering behind him, "How about another question?" the man said, voice cold, "where might I look in order to find a bezoar?" Harry had no idea, beside him , he heard Draco mutter the answer, loud enough for him to hear, but something told him if cheated off Draco, Snape would know, and things would be much worse for him,
"I don't know sir." the man's lip curled, a clear victory,
"Tut, tut, clearly, fame isn't everything…" the man said, dark eyes cruelly mocking as he glared upon the student. Harry swallowed, hard, the embarrassment from the situation was creeping up his neck, dip dying him red, "one more, Potter." the man said, voice saccharine, "What is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"
Whilst Harry would never be the best at potions, nor had his upbringing trained him in any way for the wizarding world, there was one thing, that from a young age, he was taught to do by his aunt, and that was gardening. Threats of food deprivation, cupboard time and the occasional swing of a saucepan had ingrained some basic knowledge into the boy's head, he looked up at the potions professor in surprise,
"Do you mean Aconite?" he asked, brow furrowing, "aren't they the same thing?" Snape blinked, startled that the boy knew the answer to his last question, before he said snappily,
"Correct, Mr Potter. Two out of three, not bad." the man nodded reluctantly before he said, "The bezoar can be found in the stomach of a goat and can cure you from most poisons. Now, why aren't you copying this down?" the last question was short and angry, and was followed by the rushing of students to grab their quills and parchment, the man walked between the tables, peering over students shoulders in an intimidating manner, before he began to write up instructions on the board. "This," he said, gesturing to the chalk-written words, "Is a boil removing potion, you will work with the person seated next to you and I expect it to be completed before the lesson is over, if you do not succeed, then an essay on the why you failed will be on my desk by tomorrow morning, am I understood?" there was a gentle murmuring of agreement from around the classroom, before Snape spoke again, "Potter, Thomas, switch places." Harry and Draco looked up in surprise,
"Why?" Draco blurted out, cheeks colouring at the un-Slytherin like comment, Snape cast a filthy look in the boy's direction,
"I feel it is best to put the two… hazardous students in a pair together, to avoid any unnecessary casualties." Harry scowled, and looked around to see who 'Thomas' was and who he was working with. A boy in Gryffindor robes was grabbing his stuff with a unhappy, (if slightly relieved) look on his face, and as he moved, Harry caught sight of his new potions partner. The boy was slightly plump, with large brown eyes and brown hair that fell around his face neatly. Harry vaguely recognised him from the boat ride to school, he had been with Weasley. Harry frowned slightly, before shrugging and grabbing his things. He slid into the empty seat next to the boy, who was staring at the table, his fists clenched. At first, Harry thought he was angry at Harry's placement, and was pointedly ignoring him to be rude, then he noticed the tremors going up the boy's body. He felt a wave of pity rush through him, the boy was terrified.
"Hey," he said quietly, "Are you okay?" the boy glanced at him, eyes wide and anxious, before he nodded slightly,
"I'm fine." he mumbled cheeks dark and still trembling slightly, Harry extended his hand,
"My name's Harry Potter, nice to meet you." he said, smiling slightly, in an attempt to ease the boy into their partnership. The boy glanced at him suspiciously, evidently looking for some trick in his friendly demeanour, eventually, he decided it was safe, and shook the boy's hand,
"I'm Neville Longbottom." he said, "You're more friendly then I expected you to be." Harry's brow furrowed,
"Because I'm Harry Potter?" he asked, confusedly, "do we have some kind of feud or something because this pureblood stuff is really-"
"No!" Neville yelped, surprised, "because you're Slytherin, you guys are meant to hate Gryffindors…" Harry blinked, baffled,
"We are?" Neville nodded, and Harry shrugged,
"I guess I didn't get the memo, I didn't know much about the different houses until yesterday, to be honest. Everything's a bit overwhelming, like there are all these rules, about names and stuff, and if I, like, accidentally call you by your first name or something and you get offended, let me know, because it's unintentional, I just don't know much about these traditions and stuff so-" Neville was blinking at him, eyes wide as Harry allowed himself to drift away into ramble-land.
"You can call me Neville if you want…" he said, voice quiet, "Not everyone uses pureblood traditions anymore anyway, but you have my permission to use my first name, if you want- that is." Harry grinned,
"Thanks, Neville, call me Harry." the boy then glanced at the clock, "We better get started, how about you go get the ingredients we need, and I'll start dealing with the ones we already have?" Neville nodded in response to the suggestion, before clambering to his feet and walking to the store cupboard. He had struggled to make friends in his house, all of them lively and talkative, none very interested in the quiet boy who sat in the corner. Briefly, he wondered what would have been different if he had allowed the hat to sort him into Slytherin, as it had pushed for; would he already be close with Harry and his friends? He shook off the thought, the image of his grandmother flitting into his mind, her anger at the mere suggestion that the son of Frank and Alice Longbottom wouldn't go to Gryffindor, nonetheless, a faint smile rested on his lips as he gathered the materials necessary.
Unknown to either boy, Professor Snape watched them intently. Potter was different to what he expected, the fact he was sorted into Slytherin was proof enough of that, and the manner in which he dealt with the Longbottom boy was not an approach James Potter would have tried, no, definitely not. If anything, the soft manner in which Harry dealt with the shy boy was more akin to a girl who Snape had known a long time ago, with fiery red hair, and green eyes just like the ones that stared at him from behind those Potter glasses.
By the end of the lesson, surprisingly, there were no accidents, a rarity in Snape's potions classes. The Professor had genuinely expected Longbottom and Potter's potion to explode, with an amusingly painful result, yet, much to his disappointment, his dreams were to remain unfulfilled. As he dismissed the class, delightedly informing Weasley that he was expecting an essay the next morning, Potter barely glanced his way, choosing instead to talk with Longbottom as they left, however, much to Snape's displeasure, Draco gave him a look of pure venom as he passed, before running to catch up with Harry, who politely made introductions between him and Longbottom. As Snape shut his door, he wondered whether or not he had made a slight mistake in the manner that he had dealt with the Potter child, before dismissing the thought. It was James Potter's son, and clearly, the child was just as much of an arrogant, bullying toe rag as his father was. Snape reassured himself with this thought, whilst he struggled to remove the image of those green eyes staring up at him reproachfully from behind large black frames.
Hope you guys liked that. There will be distinct changed from Canon as the series progresses, so I hope this isn't too much of a rehash for you guys, I swear it will get more interesting.
The next update will be between the 21st and 22nd.
Please leave reviews, you know I love them!
