CHAPTER 7: How To Win Friends & Influence Gryffindors (Part 1)

September 6th, 1991

The dark and cold first-year Slytherin dormitory was suddenly lit up when the six torches etched on the wall exploded with a blinding orange light, causing Harry's eyes to flutter open as his sleep was disrupted. The boy half-yawned, half-groaned as he stretched himself in the bed, regretting having stayed up late the previous night. He hated the Slytherin protocol, being forced to wake up at six-thirty in the morning sharp by whatever monster, most likely Snape, decided to program the candles that way. And even if someone decided to go back to sleep, they would face the wrath of their Head of House, just like Crabbe had learnt on his first morning in the castle.

Snape. Harry didn't like him, at all, and hated himself for not choosing Gryffindor when the sorting hat presented both options. The way the hat had given him the options, Slytherin seemed like the better choice, the one that would give him the chance to finally prove himself to the world and become great. All it gave him was a Head of House that absolutely detested him - and in the limited interactions he'd had with him, didn't waste any slight chance to yell at him, and remove points from him - and the most detestable housemates anyone could ask for.

Malfoy was a grade A prick, never missing a chance to try and boss him around or bully him once Harry proved himself as having a bit more independence than Crabbe and Goyle. Daphne was pretty much the same, only with longer hair. Parkinson was just rude to anyone who even tried to talk to her, even though she didn't really have any friends. Theo and Blaise were just as rude as Malfoy, and had that superior than most attitude like Daphne, but at least they didn't try to boss him around.

All in all, Harry didn't like them. He'd tried to be friends with them, he'd done so for the past week endlessly without making any progress. Hopefully his attempts would work soon, he was stuck with them for the next seven years, after all. They would warm up to him, eventually. They had to. There was no Dudley here to force them against him, just like he'd forced all his friends from back home to abandon him. Yes, he was sure they'd be friends. It would just take time.

Harry forced himself to get out of his bed before Snape could arrive at their dormitories, something that usually took five minutes after the initial wake-up call. From what he'd heard of the others, it would only be like this for their first-year. After that, their Head of House didn't pay any visits to them at the wake of dawn, though they were still supposed to wake up at the same time.

Seeing that only Malfoy and Theo had fully gotten up, Harry raced to the bathroom to make sure that he would manage into one of the available showers. The bathroom was fitted with three toilets, three lavatories, and three shower spaces - why there wasn't one for each student, he had no idea. I mean, there was a bed and nightstand for each of them, surely it couldn't have been that hard to do the same with the bathroom utilities, especially not with magic.

After taking a quick shower, he dried himself with one of the towels before getting dressed up. Before Hogwarts, Harry had never worn such a formal uniform, or anything that fit him, really. He felt weird inside one of those buttoned shirts he'd grown accustomed to seeing people like Uncle Vernon and other successful adults he'd seen before. He tried wearing it in various ways, tucked, untucked, buttons loose, sleeves rolled, without a tie - but it never felt right with him. Maybe he'd grow into them as time went on, but for now, they were really uncomfortable.

He couldn't believe that he was missing Dudley's old, dirty, and overly large clothes he used to wear all the time, rather than the new, tidy, and fit clothes he had now. It was pretty stupid, but at least his old clothes were loose and pleasant.

Deciding on tucking his shirt, but having his tie slightly loose, and his sleeves rolled up, Harry began with his other morning ablutions before leaving for breakfast at the Great Hall. He didn't even bother trying to fix his hair up, knowing it was impossible, instead he began by washing his teeth.

What was he supposed to do for the next two hours? It was barely seven in the morning, and classes didn't start until nine. He could continue his homework or read ahead for the classes he had later in the day, but he didn't really want to. He loved magic, it was almost indescribable at how much in awe of it he was, and he didn't think he'd ever fully grow accustomed to it. But he hated the classes and lectures, the homeworks and reading - it was boring, and he could never really concentrate on it.

Harry had no idea how people like Hermione, Pansy, or Padma managed to devote themselves completely to their studies. Their intelligence and attitude towards the school made him admire them and feel like the laziest kid in the whole castle. Or at least until he saw some of his other classmates, like Crabbe and Goyle, or even Neville and Ron.

Neville was heralded as the Boy Who Lived. Harry didn't know what it meant at first, but from what he'd managed to gather from conversations he'd overheard, he was supposedly the saviour of the wizarding world. Apparently, his parents had been killed by a dark wizard whose name no one even dared to say, but Neville managed to survive the attack and even somehow kill the dark wizard.

Harry felt really bad for Neville, having recently heard about his own parents' murder. His aunt and uncle had always told him that they died in a car crash when they were babysitting him, which was how he came to be stuck with them. But when Professor McGonagall came to his home that fateful day and introduced him to magic, she told him the truth of what happened to his parents.

Right after the dark wizard was killed by Neville, some of his supporters got really mad and decided to attack someone, and they picked Harry's parents. Five dark wizards - Rabastan, Rodolphus, and Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius Black, and Barty Crouch Jr - attacked his parents. They killed them, but the magical police, the Aurors, managed to capture almost all of their attackers. Sirius Black had escaped, but they caught him a few days later when he was trying to attack one of his other friends, and blew up a street filled with people.

Harry didn't really know how to feel about what had happened, he never really knew his parents, even though he constantly missed them. He yearned for having what all of his classmates had, hating himself for feeling jealous when he saw people hugging their parents, laughing with them, being with their family. He shouldn't feel that way, he was a good person, and it's not like they did anything to him or his parents. But there wasn't a day that went by when he didn't wish his parents were still alive.

Around the castle, he'd seen people staring at Neville's scar, thanking him for beating the dark wizard, calling him a hero - Harry had even seen his best friend Ron do those things once or twice. Harry couldn't even imagine how Neville must be feeling when people did that, it gave him the urge to go talk to him, and tell him he was sorry about what happened to his parents. But he never got the courage needed to do so, especially not seeing how anti-Slytherin Ron was.

Neville, though the person everyone saw and venerated, was a quiet and shy kid, and Ron often bossed him around without even knowing it. He could see that Ron was genuine about his liking of Neville, and didn't think he was being his friend just because he was the Boy Who Lived, but Harry didn't think Neville could stand up to Ron if he ever wanted to. So if he ever tried approaching Neville, Ron would probably start yelling at him and Neville would go along with it because Ron is his friend.

Harry was brought out of his thoughts as he was finishing brushing his teeth when Goyle shoved him to the ground with a humiliating ease and began washing his hands.

"What the hell!" Harry shouted as all the other boys laughed. "I was using that!"

"Not anymore."

Harry stared up at the fat kid, his eyes burning as a lump began settling on his throat. There was no way he could beat Goyle in a fight, even if Crabbe and Malfoy weren't here, so there was no way he'd manage to reclaim the lavatory. He felt degraded in the worst way possible, everyone was laughing and looking at him with their smug faces, and he couldn't do anything to stop it.

"Oooh, Potty's gonna cry," Blaise cackled.

"Oh, my God, he is!" Malfoy almost doubled up laughing.

"Shut up, Malfoy." Harry spat, blinking rapidly.

"Oooh, I'm shaking." The boy mocked back, theatrically trembling. "Little Potter is angry! What will I ever do!"

The room erupted in roars of laughter as Harry left as fast as he could without running. He grabbed his bag from the dormitory, and immediately left the Slytherin common room.

Forcing himself not to fall into their taunts, Harry stopped himself from shedding a single tear and regain his composure as he walked towards the Great Hall. It was stupid, he wasn't supposed to cry from something so simple, he didn't even know why he was crying. It's not like he hadn't faced jerks before Hogwarts.

Besides, they were just joking around, right? Maybe they meant it as a joke or as a way of bonding? I mean, it's not like they actually hit him, Goyle just shoved him a bit. He had been kicked and punched before, he should know the difference between a jesting push than an actual beating. Maybe they just expected him to fight back and then laugh, or something. To start building a friendship.

Yes, that had to be it. They were just joking, if they really wanted to bully him they'd do something much worse. It's not like Malfoy is scared of actually bullying, he constantly came after Neville and Ron in much harsher ways, and was openly antagonistic against them. It was just playful banter, a joke, and he blew it out of proportion.

That had to be it.

By the time Harry had entered the Great Hall, he was in much better spirits. His eyes gazed through every corner of the room, noticing that the Hall was almost empty, besides the Slytherin table, besides a few early birds who had woken up to study, such as Hermione Granger who was the only first-year currently sitting at the Gryffindor table.

He took a sit in the middle of the Slytherin table, on the free spot that was usually taken by the first years, and decided to wait on the others before grabbing his breakfast. His eyes roamed the feast in front of him, savouring it with his eyes before the scent even fully reached his nostrils. Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long, as Pansy arrived a couple of minutes later.

"Hey," he told her cheerfully, finally starting to put food on his plate. "So, Potions later today, huh. How do you think it will be?"

Pansy looked up at him, steak-knives could have launched out of her eyes with the look she was giving him. After a few awkward moments of staring, the girl stood up and walked away, sitting a few spaces away on the table. Harry ignored the painful twinge in his chest and decided to continue serving himself food, though in a more reserved manner.

Another ten minutes passed before more of his housemates arrived. Draco and Daphne were on the front, talking lightly while Theo, Blaise, Tracey, and Millicent followed behind them. Taking one look at him, the group laughed before walking on and sitting with Pansy. As time went on and the rest of the Slytherins showed. Not a single one of them decided to sit with Harry - who had waited with his plate full for the rest of them.

Not feeling hungry anymore, Harry stood up and left the Great Hall, watching as Ron and Neville walked in, the redhead's arm around his friend as they laughed over something they said. Harry tried to shoot them a half-smile, but Ron immediately sneered at him and kept on walking.

Letting out a discontented sigh, his insides churning as he felt his chest trying to crush itself into pieces, Harry was left standing alone in front of the Great Hall. He didn't have anywhere particular to go, and there was still a bit under an hour and a half before class, so Harry decided to go on ahead towards the Potions' classroom to pass the time.

After lightly knocking on the door and receiving no answer, Harry crept in and was thankful that the room was empty. He took one of the stools on the table most to the left side of the room and sat there in an intrusive silence. He stayed there, mind blank as his eyes vaguely counted the stains on the dark, cavernous walls.

It seemed as if time had stopped completely for an eternity before he fully snapped out of whatever trance he had been stuck in. Confused for a moment, Harry gazed around aimlessly before catching himself. With nothing left to do, Harry grabbed his Potions book and decided to start reading it, having nothing else to do.

Harry could have sworn that time inside the Potions dungeons worked differently than everywhere else because to him, it felt like days, or even weeks before anyone else even entered the classroom. His eyes drifted through the words without managing to understand any of them, the information in the pages never reached his brain, much less leave it. He was honestly surprised that he didn't fall asleep, the Potions' handbook was so incredibly boring that it made it physically impossible to do anything that would bring him joy, like smiling or sleeping.

The first person who entered the room was Hermione Granger, who shot him a small smile from before sitting on the opposite side. After that, everyone gradually began entering until the classroom was filled with loud conversations and laughter.

Harry was left sitting with Pansy, Millicent, and Goyle, though it was clear that neither three wanted to be there. He tried another attempt at starting conversations with any of them, but after none of them answered, he decided to go back to his book, completely slumped on the table.

His eyes glazed over the sentences before he was spooked out of his reading when the door suddenly crashed against the wall, and a bat-like creature strutted across the classroom. Professor Snape looked over all the students as all of them quieted down, a sneer adorning his face.

"Brown, Lavender," Snape drawled.

"Present," the girl squeaked.

"Bullstrode, Millicent."

"Present."

"Crabbe, Vincent."

"Present."

"Davis, Tracey."

"Present."

Snape continued through the list with less enthusiasm than a mother at a funeral before he slightly stopped.

"Potter, Harry."

"Here," he answered cautiously.

Snape turned to look at him, scanning him like a hawk, trying to find anything to yell at him about, before he seemingly glided over through him.

"I see we have a student who thinks can learn more on his own than from his teacher," the professor remarked with distaste as he stared at his Potions book.

"I was just-"

"Silence!" He hissed. "Tell me, Potter, if you think of yourself so smart, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?

"I…" Harry's mind came out empty. "I don't know."

"Tut, tut - you don't know? You're reading the book before class, surely you must know. Can you even read, Potter?"

"Yes, but I don't think I-"

"No excuses," the teacher snapped. "Let's try again, Potter, tell me, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar."

"I- I don't know. A Potions shop, maybe-"

"Trying to be cheeky, Potter?"

"No, sir! I-"

"Five points from Slytherin." Snape cut him off, incredibly serious. "Just like your father, aren't you, Potter, trying to be funny to hide how much of a dimwit you are."

All the Slytherins around him laughed, even those at his own table.

"Don't talk about my-"

"Silence!" The near-shout completely stopped Harry in his tracks. "You are not to talk back to a teacher, ever, Potter! One more word out of your mouth, and you'll receive a week's detention. Is that clear?"

Not trusting Snape into baiting him, Harry merely nodded, begrudgingly and with his blood boiling with anger.

"Very well," he drawled. "With no more interruptions, we can finally get this class started."

Snape went on to give an arrogant speech, before ordering them to prepare one of the first Potions that came from the handbook on their own, without any help. Even with over an hour of time to read the book, and actually having gone through that potion before class, Harry was stunningly bad at Potions, or he was if Snape was to be believed.

The Professor hovered over him like a lion circling his prey, and never failed out to point Harry's mistakes, even when it was just one second too long that he stirred the potion, or one milligram too much of squashed dried nettles. Snape even forced him to re-start his own potion three times before finally giving him a Poor at the end of class.

However, he wasn't his only victim as the other Gryffindors tasted just a tiny bit of what Harry went through, taking points away for nothing and constantly berating them - Neville and Ron getting the brunt of it.

When class finished and Harry began packing his bag, preparing himself for the next class, Snape called out to him.

"Potter! You are to stay at the end of class to talk about your behaviour during class. The rest of you, leave, now."

Snape's words seemed to have acted as a massive repellent, making everyone leave the classroom as fast as possible, though most of the Slytherins laughed as they did, and Harry got the feeling they would have liked to have stayed.

"Potter!" Snape snapped at him once the classroom was fully empty. "My desk, now!"

Harry slowly walked towards him and stood on the other side of the desk as the Potions Master loomed over him.

"Your disrespectful and ill-mannered behaviour is one that might have worked in the muggle world, but not here at Hogwarts. We expect our students to uphold the highest bar of education in the world, and that includes how they address their teachers and their attitude towards their betters. You are not allowed to be rude to your teachers or to even talk back to them-"

"I wasn't being-"

"Yes! You were!" Snape roared. "You are to stay silent until I allow you to speak. Your father came to this school just before you, and he was just as much of an irreverent and inconsiderate fool as you are. He thought, as you think now, that you can get away with anything and act as if you own the school just because of who you are, and I'm here to tell you that you are deeply mistaken. As your Head of House, your future is in my hands, I will decided whether you have a good one or if you don't even reach second year! If you even so much as talk back to me, or any other teacher brings up even the slightest complaint against you - if I hear you even sneaked in dirt into the classroom by accident, I will make sure that you don't spend another night in the castle and that you are sent back with your aunt and uncle with your wand shattered into pieces. Is that clear?"

Harry gulped, staying silent.

"Is that clear!"

"Y-Yes, sir," he chocked out.

"Good," Snape said, as he sat down in front of his table full of cauldrons. "Now leave."

It took Harry a moment to fully gather Snape's words before he turned around and grabbed his bag. But just as he was about to step out of the classroom, the professor stopped him.

"Potter, if you think that any other teacher or even Dumbledore will stop me from enacting whatever punishment I consider appropriate, you are wrong. You won't have any special treatment, you won't get any passes or warnings, you are nothing. So I suggest you do as I say and fix your behaviour."

This will be one of various flashback chapters that will be sprinkled throughout the fic, revealing more of Harry's backstory, and his transition into the Harry from this chapter, to the Harry from the rest of the fic. I won't cover all the years nor all the massive moments from canon, only the most important memories that shaped this Harry. Right now, I have plans for events from first and third year, but later I might think of others from years two or four.

Thanks for reading, commenting, and favouriting, it really means a lot!