A/N Hi guys, this is the third chapter, and I hope you enjoy!

If there's anything that is either wrong or upsets you or whatever, review and tell me! And I will take your criticism into consideration, but be warned that flames are just going to be doused with water and never looked at again. :)

Chapter 3

Albus Dumbledore was a man full of regret and agony. However, when he had seen Harry James Potter's name appear on the attendance list, hope seemed to temporarily pushed away the regret, and the what ifs.

He honestly did not know what to expect of this Harry. He hoped he wasn't arrogant, with a head blown so big by his celebrity status. What he did hope was a healthy and happy boy, loved by a family when his own was dead and unable to love him.

He was pleasantly surprised when he saw a young boy, who was definitely going to become a looker when he grew up, with his head held up high with a confidence that seemed to be earned and a maturity that was not expected for his age.

At that moment, Albus was internally leaping for joy that Harry, someone James and Lily had left to his responsibility, was safe and not mentally or physically impaired. He wanted to rush down to the boy, and apologize for leaving him like a bottle of milk at the Dursley's doorstep, for not making sure that he was safe. Albus supposed it was because he was high on the joy of the fact that Voldemort was finally defeated, forgetting that even though their leader was dead, there were still Death Eaters around.

But what he had not expected was the House he was sorted into. Slytherin. Where was Harry during these nerve wracking ten years?

Severus Snape had always dreaded the day Harry Potter, the spawn of his hated rival James Potter and the love of his life, Lily Evans. He was sure the boy would be just like his father, a petty bully with a head blown up with fame and self confidence.

Slytherin? That was impossible. The Hat must've made a mistake. There was no way Harry James Potter could be in Slytherin.

The boy seemed arrogant, with his head held up high. What a brat.

Harry was receiving strange stares, especially from his tablemates. Draco was silent besides him, seemingly pondering over something.

"I didn't know the Light's Golden Boy would be in Slytherin," a boy sitting across from him sneered, the first to break the silence.

Harry didn't even look up, "And who is that Golden Boy of the Light?"

"Don't act dumb, Potter, we all know you should be in Gryffindor," the boy snarled.

"And could you explain to me why I should be in Gryffindor?" Harry asked, eyes flickering up to the boy.

"Because you killed You Know Who! Both your parents were in Gryffindor! You're supposed to be in Gryffindor, Potter," the boy growled.

Harry's gaze sharpened, and he stared into the boy's eyes. So his name was Theodore Nott, from a family that followed Voldemort. Harry said coldly, "I was not raised by my parents, because if you didn't hear, they were killed by Voldemort." Flinches. "I don't know a thing about my parents, except that they died for me. So whatever they did and whoever they were, I have no connections to."

"Yeah right," the boy sneered. "Dumbledore probably kept you safe and sound, telling you tales of how great your parents were."

Harry levelled a look at him, "I hadn't even heard of Dumbledore before I got my letter. And when I did get my letter, I thought it was some prank."

Theodore Nott actually blinked in surprise, "You were raised by Muggles?"

"Never even knew who my parents were before this," Harry said.

"This is how Dumbledore treats the Boy Who Lived?" Draco finally spoke up, looking incredulous. "I thought you were spouting some of Dumbledore's house unity crap when we first met. Thought Dumbledore was trying to convert me to the 'Light' side with you."

Harry laughed coldly, "So you thought that I was just some missionary? No, I do not know him, nor will I give him my respect until he earns it. And with his speech just then, I don't think I will be respecting him any time soon."

Draco's grey eyes widened, while the students around them fell silent, all staring at the Boy Who Lived in a new light. "While I know I am extremely handsome, it would be best if you stopped staring at me. It's incredibly rude," Harry said calmly. "Now, if you let me, I would like to return to my dinner." And without another word, he turned back to his food, and resumed eating.

The other Slytherins exchanged surprised and cautious looks, wary of this strange boy who was supposed to be in Gryffindor and be Dumbledore's little right hand man.

Harry was intrigued. He wanted to know what this world had to offer him in the ways of magic. He never felt the appeal of Holder Type magic, for it seemed so restrictive. Holding his wand, he glared down at it. Even though it was fascinating to watch the professors do anything with their wands, he could feel the wand trying to mold his magic. He hated the feeling. He was supposed to mold his magic, not the wand.

Mentally, he made a note to find a place where no one would find him so he could practice his Ice Make magic. It would do no good for Lord Zeref if he became rusty.

Potions first, with the Gryffindors. Harry could practically see the tension between the two Houses. With a frown, he wondered why Dumbledore set up classes with the Houses that so obviously hated each other. House unity maybe?

He was standing off to the side, melting in the shadows, watching the interactions between Gryffindor and Gryffindor, and Slytherin and Slytherin. It was so blatantly obvious that the two Houses hated each other. For what reason though? Was it because Gryffindor House was supposed to be the heroes and Slytherins were supposed to be the villains?

No matter, he thought. They will all be united under Lord Zeref.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Hermione standing alone, away from the crowd of Gryffindors. He walked up to her, "Hey, Hermione."

"Oh, hi, Harry!" she greeted with a strained smile. Her eyes were slightly wet and red, and there was some bitterness in them.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" he asked, frowning in concern. "Did something happen?"

"It's nothing, Harry… Nothing you need to concern yourself with," she said, self-deprecatingly.

"Who did this to you?" he demanded, eyes narrowed. "What happened?"

Hermione blinked rapidly, holding back tears, "I-it's just some girls from my dorm… They were teasing me about being a bookworm."

"Who?" he snarled, eyes fierce and protective over this girl that he didn't even know. Maybe it was because of the fact that she seemed to helpless and small. Maybe it was because of the magical power he sensed in her. "Hermione, don't care what they say. They're just jealous of you."

"But what do I have that they could be jealous of?" Hermione said, looking so helplessly depressed.

"You are powerful, Hermione," he said truthfully.

She laughed derisively, "Me? Powerful? I'm just a muggleborn girl with no real friends and no real talents."

"I can sense your magical potential, and truthfully, you have more potential than most of the purebloods here," he said. "Don't let others get you down."

She looked at him for a long time, and then smiled gratefully, "Thanks, Harry."

"Into the classroom," a cold and bored voice said. Turning around, Harry's eyes fell on a pale man that he recognized as Professor Snape.

Harry motioned for Hermione to follow him as they made their way into the classroom with everyone else. Hermione went to sit with Neville, who did not have a partner, and Harry sat down at an open seat next to an Italian boy Harry was sure to have the name of Blaise Zabini.

Professor Snape walked into the room behind them, standing at the front of the classroom. His dark eyes roamed over the students as he took role call. His gaze landed on Harry, "Ah, yes. Harry Potter."

Harry stared back at him, eyes defiant. Suddenly, he felt the man try to slip into his mind. He smirked internally. Projecting his thoughts to his teacher, he said coldly, Do not dare to think that you can best the Master. Especially in his own mind. The man's eyes opened wide, and he hastily tried to pull out of Harry's mind. Harry snickered softly, and calmly closed his mindscape's outer gates. You think the Master would let you escape like that, Professor? I don't take things like this lightly. It would benefit you to remember to mind others' privacy. His humorless laugh echoed in his mindscape, sending shivers down the Potions professor's spine. Get out of my mind. And the gates were open, rejecting the professor.

Staggering back, the man stared at Harry with wide eyes, and he seemed dazed for a minute. "What did you do to him?" Blaise Zabini whispered, staring at Harry in curiosity.

Harry only smiled innocently, "Nothing, nothing at all."

Professor Snape did not bother Harry again after that.

"Dumbledore, that child is absurdly powerful! And he is definitely not from a muggle family! He knows high level magic already!" Snape ranted, eyes wide.

The Headmaster smiled, "So that means he was found by a loving magical family. That is good."

"It's not good! He said something about being the 'Master' and not besting him in his own mind! What if you were right and he is possessed by the Dark Lord?" Snape demanded. "You should've seen his mind! It was so well defended I'm sure not even the Dark Lord at his best could destroy it!"

Dumbledore sighed, "I will leave him alone, and so will you, Severus. I have done him a terrible deed that day I left him at the Dursleys. I will not interfere with his life anymore until absolutely necessary."

Snape stared, and then turned away to leave. Stopping at the door, he said, "I have a feeling that you will regret saying that."

Harry disliked Holder magic. He really did. He disliked how helpless a mage would be without his or her vessels. Caster type was so much more reliable. Especially Slayer magic, but Harry couldn't complain when he had Ice Make and Mind.

Currently, he was sitting with Hermione in the library as she did homework. He, on the other hand, was reading a book. "Harry, shouldn't you be doing homework?"

He glanced up, "I already did it."

"What? How? When did you do it?" Hermione asked, incredulous. "We just got the homework today!"

"I did it during History of Magic," he admitted.

Hermione was appalled, "B-but why didn't you listen?"

"How could I listen?" he scoffed. "Listening to Binns droning is like trying to listen to a bee buzzing in a loud and crowded area. It's impossible. But he does make a very nice lullaby."

Hermione paused, but nodded after a while. "That's true. I can't believe such a prestigious school like Hogwarts would allow such a horrible teacher to teach here."

"Maybe we should go see Headmaster Dumbledore with a petition for a better History of Magic curriculum and teacher," he said.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, "That's a good idea. I think everyone from the school would agree with us."

Harry laughed, "Yeah, that's true." Straightening, he asked, "Have you heard from Ron? I haven't been able to talk to him since we were Sorted."

She frowned, "Yeah, I've talked to him once or twice. Why?"

"Well, I hope he doesn't dislike me for being Sorted into Slytherin… I love being in Slytherin, but he seemed like a good friend," Harry said smoothly. Truthfully, he didn't know if Ron Weasley was a useful person, but his twin brothers had a lot of potential.

"He's usually in the Gryffindor common room, and if you want to talk to him, I could drag him out. But don't expect him anywhere near the library," she smiled, amused.

Harry nodded, "Thanks, but I'll just talk to him when I find him in the hallway or something."

Hermione acquiesced, and returned to her homework as Harry reverted his attention to his book.

Harry frowned at the pages. There was nothing on interdimensional travelling spells. Only Apparition which he didn't care for at the moment, Portkeys and Flooing. All of which did not extend outside of the current universe. He needed to find a way home. He had to. There was no ifs.

"Hey, Ron!" Harry shouted, jogging up to the redhead who was walking down the empty hallway. "Where are you headed?"

The redhead turned around, and his reaction was slightly reassuring to Harry. "Slytherin, huh?" he said, with no real malice in his voice.

Harry nodded, "Well, I guess the Hat thought it would be good for me. How's Gryffindor?"

"Well, Gryffindor is great in general," Ron said, hinting not so subtly that he was disappointed in the house Harry was Sorted into.

"Slytherin is a good house to be in, Ron," he said gently.

"What do you mean? That's the house that has evil people!" Ron exclaimed. "I thought you were pretty good on the train, how could you love Slytherin?"

Harry stared at him critically, and replied, "Because Slytherin is the house of the ambitious and cunning. It houses people who think for themselves and for their own benefits."

"How is that a good thing?" Ron demanded, genuinely puzzled.

Harry smiled, "It allows me to grow and strengthen. In Slytherin, I am able to develop skills I would never be able to learn in Gryffindor, Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw." Pausing, he glanced at Ron, "What class do you have first?"

"Transfiguration," Ron replied, voice thoughtful, indicating his thoughts of what Harry had just said.

"Me too! Let's get there together, shall we?" he suggested, hoping Ron would say yes and shove away house rivalries.

Said boy shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable, but he nodded anyway. Harry smirked internally. In time, they would all be united under one thing. Magic.

Slipping into the classroom, the two boys were met with a tabby cat that stared at them with a curious and stern eye. Harry stared back, blinking. Strange. This was no cat. Its mind was too complicated for that of an animal.

Before Harry could confirm who the animal was, Ron broke into his thoughts, "So, where are you going to sit? With us or the Slytherins?"

Harry looked at him, and then around the classroom. "I'm going to sit in the middle."

So they took a seat and waited for the rest of the class to file in. The cat watched them with a critical eye.

Hermione had walked in, and Harry grinned at her, waving at her to sit with them. She smiled, and took a seat next to Harry, "Hey, Harry, you weren't in the library."

"Yeah, I woke late so I thought I was going to be late, but instead I was early," he said sheepishly. "So what books have you found interesting?"

It was hard for Harry, really, to allow the wand to take control of his magic. The first time he tried a spell in Transfiguration ended up in an explosion and icicles everywhere around Harry. Professor McGonagall, who was, by the way, the cat, had stared at Harry, and sighed. "Well, this is a first, but what did you do, Mr. Potter?"

"Uh, well…" he said sheepishly. "I tried to cast the spell, but my magic and my wand just wouldn't cooperate."

The professor blinked in surprise, "They wouldn't cooperate? But you must've gotten the wand at Ollivander's, correct?"

"Yes, I did," Harry said. "The wand did choose me, but judging from what happened, I don't think my magic chose my wand."

"In that case..." the professor seemed truly stupefied. "Well, then... Let's go see the Headmaster."

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