Harry snuck back into the library the same way he'd snuck out, and, shortly thereafter, was led down to the Great Hall for breakfast.
Time to gamble, Harry thought. Time to trust.
Pity I've never been good at that.
Now what on the table looks least likely to be poisoned? Harry thought, even as he scanned the bits and bobs of food. Maybe he could just have some asparagus and leeks? And a bit of mashed potato? He looked up and down the table, but breakfast was always greasy, greasy meat, and he knew his stomach couldn't handle that. Or eggs. Euggh. Even when he had to cook them, Harry couldn't stand eggs.
Potter never noticed the dark gaze of the Potions Master from the High Table. Instead, he was drawn into conversation with the rest of the first years, who had all arrived early - courtesy of their 5th year prefect being an early riser. Harry was glad that he hadn't had his door banged in - he'd never been good at waking up when someone else commanded it.
Draco, luckily, took up most of the oxygen in the conversation. He'd happily prattle along about any observation he'd happened to make, and didn't much care if the only response he got was grunts from Goyle or Crabbe. Harry thus didn't have to mention that he didn't know who the Ballycastle Bats were, or ask why exactly we should care if Griselda Marchbanks was fit to be tied about Veronica's new look. (whoever Veronica was).
Classes were just as he remembered them. More boring now that he'd taken them, of course. He had to listen through again - and these were safety lectures, for everything except History. History, Harry found, was easy to take good notes in. It was amazing what "This Will Save Your Life" will do to create positive incentives, after all.
Lunch was the same, a simple meal for Harry - a bit of hot broth, some bread, some more potatoes. Goyle attempted to interest Harry in some bloody red meat, but Harry politely declined...
After dinner, the fifth year prefects escorted them back to their Common Room. Harry was starting to see why Slytherins were so rarely seen in the rest of the castle - they had a tendency to close ranks, and that just made it easier to do things down in the dungeons. Why tell someone that you needed a private classroom on the 7th floor? They'd just have to accompany you up there, after all.
The Common Room was filled with Slytherins - though clearly not all of them. Harry's eyes found Flint, though, his truculent, craggy face easily visible. He approached Flint and his cronies (they were tossing snitches around, clearly not the studious, diligent Slytherins). Harry stood there, fighting not to fidget.
Eventually, Flint looked up - although Harry was perfectly aware that Flint had known of Harry Potter's approach since the moment he'd stepped towards the trio. It was a blatant powerplay - and one that Harry heartily approved of. I don't care who you are, you're still nothing to me. It was better than mindless adulation. Harry would, truly, rather be buck on the totem pole. It was the right place for a first year.
"What do you want?" Flint growled, his stony eyes making this less of a question than a demand that Harry buzz off.
"I need a favor." Harry said, gratified that he'd kept the quaver out of his voice - and that it would sound as if he was trying to do so.
"What's in it for me?" Flint growled back, crossing his arms.
There! Harry thought, internally glowing with satisfaction. Just the opening I need.
"You can't play Quidditch without good grades, can you?"
Flint snorted, "And what, you think you can do Owl-level Transfiguration?"
Harry smiled back, "No, but History of Magic homework doesn't require more than reading a lot."
Flint nodded, "I need at least two subjects."
Harry shot back, "Astronomy, then."
Flint nodded, looking as shrewd as he ever had on the pitch. And considering some of the Slytherins' famed "sneaky plays", that was quite shrewd. "So, you'll do my homework. How do you plan on helping me pass the tests?"
Harry smiled, "My cousin was a bit of a Dud." Understatement, that. "I'm pretty good about boiling down what needs to be studied, from all the worthless stuff that the teacher just finds interesting."
Flint smiled, "Our teacher just talks about the Goblin Wars. The OWLs are on the past 400 years of history."
Great. Harry said, "I bet I can't hurt your chances, can I?"
Flint laughed, and it sounded like the start of an avalanche, growing in volume until his friends looked at Harry too.
"What's this favor?" Flint asked.
"Protection." Harry said, "I don't think that stunt I pulled as a fifteen month baby won me many friends."
Flint nodded, "Hope you don't expect me to fight seventh years."
Harry smirked, "Not in the open, at least, and not by endangering yourself."
Flint said, "You'd do better if you hired more than just me."
Harry grinned, "How about the full Quidditch team? Same deal as you're getting... assuming that's about three years of material?"
Flint nodded, "Fifth, Sixth, and Third. Caid Carrow won't need your help, but she might join anyway out of pure solidarity."
Flint's cronies cracked up about that.
Flint leveled a flat look at them, "Caid will 'reconsider' if I put her spot up for grabs, won't she?"
His friends shut up and looked thoughtful at that.
Flint leaned forward and asked, "What are you going to do about that duel, then?"
Harry shrugged, "I've got a plan."
Flint responded, "Oh?"
Harry smirked, "I'm going to lose."
Flint laughed loud enough that the couch he was sitting on shivered under his weight. "Homework's due in a week. Finish it, and then we'll see how well you've done."
Harry couldn't fault Flint for not wanting to put the cart before the horse. Harry needed Flint a lot more than Flint needed Harry.
[a/n: Leave a review?
I can't stand how often "Harry in Slytherin" turns into "Harry can beat EVERYONE" or "Harry is smarter/stronger than the First years" - yeah, if he was, the third years would take the time to take him down a peg.]
