Summer 1991

Ronald Weasley

Ron sat on the very edge of the Slytherin table, where empty space separated him from the rest of his house. He had been greeted by a mixture of looks, not all of them friendly, and so he had decided to sit alone. He had seen some level of intrigue etched in the faces of his year mates but after having met three of them on the train he wasn't particularly eager to meet anymore. Better to be alone, he thought. So he sat at the end, moved aside his golden cutlery, and placed his head against the table.

He wondered what he had done to be punished by the hat. He didn't understand what it had said, how could someone else have sorted him a long time ago? And he also wasn't a seer but wasn't crazy either? That didn't make any sense. Seers saw the future and the hat had told him he was seeing the future, so in his mind that made him a seer, even if that hat wanted to disagree. Bloody object, he thought bitterly. Whoever had decided that a hat got to make the rules was entirely crazy and Ron wagered that tons of students were wrongly sorted every year.

What am I going to do? He felt like tearing out his hair or flipping the damn table.

Ron felt a rush of air as someone slipped into the seat next to him. He raised his head slowly half expecting it to be Malfoy or one of his ogre minions. He would have definitely punched one of them but instead, he was met with a pair of cold brown eyes. It was the boy who had been left on the stage after him and Ron certainly hadn't caught his name.

"Blaise Zabini," the boy offered Ron his hand. The gesture was more formal than Ron was used to, but he shook the boy's hand anyway.

"Ronald Weasley," he mumbled, trying to stop his voice from breaking.

Blaise nodded and turned to the table, he straightened his cutlery in a very particular way. "You're going to have to answer a lot of questions."

"Questions?" Ron asked.

"Yes, a lot of our housemates are going to wonder what you're all about. I'm wondering right now." Blaise said. "It's only a matter of time before they ask."

Oh. Ron rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. "But you haven't asked any questions?"

"Not yet," Blaise shrugged.

Before Ron could ask what he meant, the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, took to the centre of the stage. Ron moved his plate back to its place and looked at himself in the reflection.

"Welcome," Professor Dumbledore said, "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts, now before we begin our banquet I'd like to say a few words: Bitter! Sweet! Sour! Salt!"

The hall erupted in cheers but Ron didn't make any noises. He could hardly stomach the thought of being where he was and he certainly wasn't going to cheer about it. Interestingly, Ron noticed that Blaise didn't cheer either.

As soon as the headmaster had taken his seat the table almost exploded in a rush of golden platters. From absolutely nowhere there were now piles of food lined along the centre of the table, more food than Ron had ever seen in a single sitting. His eyes were drawn to the mountains of roast beef, layers of bacon, and bowls brimmed with all sorts of things. At least something about Hogwarts was good.

"Don't be too greedy," Blaise warned him. "You don't want to get sick on your first night."

"Right," Ron said. He thought the warning might have been a little rude but he tried not to hold it against the boy. Even though he had chosen to sit away from the others, he was glad to not be alone.

Ron reached for the platter in front of him and piled his plate with roasted chicken and mushy peas.

"Why Slytherin?" Blaise asked. Ron didn't have an answer. He just shrugged and inhaled a forkful of chicken.

"Well," Blaise continued, "you were a hat stall and quite a long one. That makes you rather interesting, not everyone gets to be a hat stall."

Ron swallowed. "I didn't want to be a Slytherin," he admitted. "The hat said it would have chosen Hufflepuff."

Blaise gave him a strange look. "It chose Slytherin."

Ron nodded. "I don't know, mate, it's a bloody hat."

"Don't tell people that," Blaise suggested. "They'll assume you were going to be a Gryffindor so don't correct them."

"Why not?"

"Well you shouldn't tell everyone all your secrets, and all Weasleys go to Gryffindor."

Ron felt suddenly ill. He put his fork back to the side of his plate and didn't reach for anything else. Blaise is right, he thought grimly, all Weasleys do go to Slytherin. All of them except for me.

"It means you're special," Blaise corrected himself. "There's something about you that your brothers don't have."

Special?

"And don't mind me saying this, Weasley, but that will scare some people. Especially if you mix with the wrong crowd." Blaise pointed down the table. Ron noticed Malfoy laughing loudly with a group of older students. He frowned, that certainly wasn't the crowd he wanted to mix with.

"I don't think I'm very special," Ron lied. He wouldn't let anyone know he was a seer.

"Well, regardless of what you think, it's true, and it wouldn't be a good idea to deny it, even if it turns out to be nothing particularly interesting. Ambition might be a big one," Blaise suggested.

"Well, I'd like to be a professional Quidditch player," Ron said. He knew it wasn't what Blaise was talking about. He did have a real ambition; he was going to save his brother.

The other boy snorted. "Yeah, me too. That's probably why we're all here. Greatest Quidditch team in Hogwarts, right?"

Ron felt his cheeks turn red and he looked back down at his plate. He knew when he was being made fun of.

"Sorry, I'm just joking," the other boy apologised. "I'd actually like to be your friend, Weasley."

Ron looked up at him. He could never be sure, not fully, but Ron thought that he was being sincere. "Why?"

It was Blaise's turn to blush. He turned his head and looked over the rest of the house before he looked back to Ron. "A lot of the students here have known each other a long time, I've known some of them a long time too, but… I don't really have any friends."

Ron wasn't sure he had any friends either, at least aside from Harry. He bit the inside of his cheek. He wondered what Harry thought of him now and whether they could still be friends even though they were in completely separate houses. Ron hoped so.

"Me too," Ron said. "I've only ever had my brothers."

Blaise smiled at him and then sipped on a goblet of pumpkin juice. "Will your brothers mind that you're a Slytherin?"

Ron squirmed in his seat. "I don't know," he said. He suddenly felt like throwing up again, and wondered just how long dinner was going to last. It would be a miracle if he made it through the night without making a fool of himself.

"I'm an only child," Blaise said. "I always ask people about their siblings, I find it interesting."

Ron nodded, he couldn't imagine life without his brothers. He reached into his pocket and placed his wand on the table feeling the warmth course through his hand.

"My brother Charlie bought me my wand," he told Blaise.

Blaise seemed to consider his words for a moment before nodding. "I wouldn't tell people that, even if it is rather nice."

"What? Why?" Ron asked.

Blaise shifted his eyes to the other side of the table. "Your family has a certain reputation."

Oh, right.

Ron quickly tucked his wand back in its place and started to stare again at his plate. Even though he felt sick he knew he would be hungry later and so he gave into the temptation to pick his fork up again. He ate in small bites and very quickly filled the void that had been left in his stomach from the full day of travel.

Ron and Blaise chatted lightly throughout the meal, both of them getting to know each other a little better and finding where the edges of their new friendship began and ended. Blaise was hesitant to talk about his family and so Ron avoided the subject, more than happy to discuss Hogwarts and find out exactly what Blaise thought about Slytherin house. Both of them agreed that the house had a rather awful reputation that they absolutely did not want to be associated with. Although Ron wasn't happy he had been sorted into Slytherin, it didn't seem to be as entirely bad as he thought. After all, at least he had a friend.

- SS -

The Slytherin common room was tucked in the deepest and darkest part of the castle and Ron had counted at least three staircases between them and the great hall. It was an awful lot of walking and Ron wasn't entirely certain he would be able to find his way back in the morning. Still, he found the process somewhat exciting, he knew from his brothers all about Gryffindor Tower but no one had ever told him about the dungeons.

Along a plain stretch of brickwork just a hallway away from the potion's classrooms, one of the prefects had said a password; 'Divinity'. The bricks tore themselves out of the wall and into the shape of a giant snake that arched itself along the floor and made an entrance to the room beyond. It reminded Ron of the King's Cross platform only far less subtle and far more telling of Slytherin pride.

Ron expected the Slytherin common room to be dark and gloomy with cobwebs and dust. It should have been the kind of place that bred dark wizards. He was rather surprised to find instead that the room was anything but dark and horrible. Instead pale shimmers of light reached through large glass windows that lined the far wall and looked out into the lake. Where the light did not reach, there were silver torches enchanted with bright green flames and three large fireplaces that burned brightly. Already the green cushy chairs around the room were filled with students who laughed and talked as if they had never spent a moment apart. A crystalline chandelier hung from the centre of the ceiling and Ron wondered if it was made from real diamonds. He had never seen real diamonds before.

Their prefect, a boy in Percy's year, whose name Ron couldn't remember, led them to the middle of the room and then turned to address them.

"Your things have already been placed next to a bed," the prefect said. "Boys dormitories are on the right and girls are on the left. If you have any questions please come talk to one of us. And, as someone said to me years ago, make sure you don't sleep in on the first morning." A few snickers raced through the small group before they broke off into pairs and trios.

Naturally, Ron and Blaise gravitated towards one of the fireplaces where there were two empty armchairs facing the flames with a small table between them. Although Ron was tired, he wasn't ready to sleep and he knew that if he tried, he would only be haunted by thoughts about his brothers and the house he truly wanted to be a part of. Instead, he was content to bask in the heat of the fire, hoping to melt away his worries before bed.

"Is it what you imagined?" Ron asked, knowing that Blaise had always expected to be a Slytherin.

"No," Blaise said quietly. "I thought there would be more dread. Something to earn such a terrible reputation."

Ron nodded, sharing the same thought.

"I think—"

"If it isn't the weasel," Malfoy interrupted. Ron knew the conversation had been coming, he just hadn't expected it so soon.

Draco and his merry band of minions, which Ron noticed now included two girls, stepped around to stand in front of the fire.

"Malfoy," Ron said far too politely. He would have liked instead to call him a name, something far worse than a weasel.

"How did you do it?" Draco asked. It seemed on all levels to be a serious question.

"Do what?" Ron asked dumbly, even though he knew what was really being asked of him.

"Trick the hat into making you a Slytherin. You aren't cunning or ambitious and I don't think you should be very proud," Draco said, earning a laugh from a pig-nosed girl.

"Is that so?" Blaise asked.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "Be careful, Zabini. If you learn your place, we might just let you join us after Weasley here flounders."

"Perhaps you should answer your own question first," Blaise shrugged. "Why is Weasley here? What could he be hiding?"

"Don't do that," Draco spat.

"Do what?"

"Act like he is something he isn't. We both know he is nothing special, just another ginger who can't afford his share."

Ron felt his cheeks turn red. He bit his cheek and took deep breaths in through his nose. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to knock Malfoy on the ground, he was glad that Blaise seemed more level-headed.

"Perhaps," Blaise said coolly."Maybe I know something you don't. Are you afraid that I might?"

"No," Malfoy said, sounding unsure. "And you two better not sully the Slytherin name. I don't want you hanging around with filth."

"Or what?" Blaise asked.

"Or I'll have Goyle and Crabbe snap your wands. What do you think Zabini? You think I'm kidding? I'm the leader of our year, not some blood traitor or mudblood lover like Weasley here."

Ron couldn't stop himself anymore. He stood to his feet and although he wasn't super tall he was still an inch or two above Malfoy. I just need one good hit.

"That will be enough," a man's voice said. Ron turned around to find a rather pale wizard looming over them. Unlike the professor from earlier, the man wore all black that seemed to drape and flow around him, Ron didn't know where the clothing ended and the man began.

"Professor," Draco yelped. "We were just informing Weasley about Slytherin culture."

"Indeed," the man pursed his lips. "Perhaps you would leave that to me, Mr Malfoy. I'm not sure you would appreciate just how many points fighting will cost you."

Draco mumbled an apology and was dismissed with a wave of a hand. The professor loomed over Ron and Blaise until both groups had fully separated.

"I am your head of house and potions professor, you may call me Professor Snape," the man said. Ron's eyes widened a little in recognition. Piss drinker.

"I expect that my rules will be followed, Mr Weasley. I am sure the hat placed you where you are meant to be, but I will not abide by any Gryffindor foolishness in this house. You are not to lay a hand on Mr Malfoy, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," Ron mumbled.

"You will not let him goad you into attacking lest you feel my anger. I can assure you that Mr Malfoy will soon learn to keep his words to himself but until he does, you are to pretend that he is saying nothing." Snape said. He shifted his eyes to Blaise. "Do not goad him either, Mr Zabini, we both know his father."

Blaise nodded. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Indeed…" Snape squinted at them for a moment. "My office is at the end of the hall, If you have issues I expect them to be brought to me and only me."

The professor turned around rather quickly. His robes flared up around him like some sort of cape as he almost seemed to float away. Ron shifted his eyes to Blaise.

"He's… interesting." He said.

Blaise smirked. "He's right though, you shouldn't hit Malfoy. That won't stop him."

"He called me a blood traitor," Ron defended.

"And?"

"And he meant it as an insult."

Blaise shrugged. "You are a blood traitor though, aren't you?"

Ron opened his mouth and then shut it again quickly. He supposed he was, he had nothing against marrying muggles. "I guess."

"If you had hit him, you would have been in trouble. The five of them would have insisted you started it, regardless of what was said." Blaise said. "There are other ways to deal with people."

"That's easy for you to say, you aren't the only Weasley to be ever sorted into Slytherin."

"So let's deal with him," Blaise suggested. "We can make an example and set the tone moving forward. We can wait until tomorrow night and plant something in his locker, something that will get him in trouble."

Ron felt a shiver run down his spine. "No." Even if Malfoy was a pest it didn't mean he had to be unfairly punished. He'd rather not risk getting in trouble, not with Percy around. "Let's just try to ignore him like Professor Snape said."

Blaise nodded, "You can always change your mind."

"Right," Ron cleared his throat. "How about we go look at the rooms?"

Blaise pulled himself out of the armchair and followed Ron through the small tunnel and into the dormitories. Two doors for every year level lined the walls of a large circular room where a marble statue of a snake stood guard in the centre. The snake seemed to be almost alive and its head followed them as they stepped around the room. Ron felt himself drawn to the two perfectly circular emeralds that served as the Snake's eyes.

Near the far end of the room, they found a door where both their names had been carved into a brass plate along with the name of another student that Ron hadn't met. Ron was glad that he and Blaise were assigned to the same room and more so glad that he wasn't sharing a room with Malfoy. He wondered if the school had some way of knowing who got along and who didn't.

The room itself was rather large, far larger than Ron's room at the Burrow. Three beds lined the longest wall, a healthy amount of space between them where there was enough room for a desk each and their trunks. The beds themselves had curtains that wrapped the entire way around, all of them the same shade of perfect green. On the short wall, there was a window that looked out into the lake, although Ron was sure that the window was actually an enchantment of some sort given that their room actually faced towards the castle. There were also paintings along the walls, only of landscapes thankfully, and a few green and silver rugs that provided relief from the stone floors. Finally, there was a single bathroom with a toilet, a sink, a shower, and a bath. Sitting on the bed closest to the door was a weedy boy with short black hair.

Theodore smiled and stood to greet them. Unlike Blaise, he didn't offer his hand instead opting to give each of them a nod.

"So," the new boy said, "I'm sure you read my name. I'm Theodore Nott, and you're both Weasley and Zabini."

"Weasley," Ron said.

Theo laughed at him. "Oh, I could tell."

Blaise brushed them both and took the second bed in the room. I guess I get the third.

"You want the first bed?" Ron asked.

"Yes, my trunk was closest to this one, and I don't really mind. It's not like I'll be spending a lot of time in here. Far too much to see." Theo said.

"Right," Ron nodded. "So, uh, how was your first day?"

Theo smirked. "Oh not nearly as exciting as yours. Picture this, I think I'm getting myself into just a boring year and then not only do I learn that I'm the same age as the boy who lived but also some ginger becomes the longest hat stall in Hogwarts history."

Ron swallowed. Am I really the longest?

"Don't look so grim," Theo continued. "I'm not such a terrible roommate. I won't bother you two too much, so long as you don't bother me."

"Right," Ron said again. He wasn't sure what to think of the new boy. He wasn't unpleasant like Malfoy but not as agreeable as Blaise either.

"So, tell me how it happened. What made you the Weasley to be watched?"

Ron grimaced. "I'm not sure. I guess I'm cunning or something…"

"Or something," Theo said. Ron found it to be a little insulting but didn't take it to heart. He had noticed that the older Slytherins seemed to make similar comments to one another. At least it wasn't outright mean like Malfoy. "Well, if you figure it out, do let me know."

Ron nodded.

Theo made his way into the bathroom and locked the door behind him while Ron trekked over to his bed.

Ron didn't bother changing his clothes, instead, he swung his feet into the bed and closed the curtain around him. He never imagined he would be in Hogwarts surrounded by green and not red. It felt strange and surreal like he was living someone else's life. Even though his sorting rang in the back of his mind with many questions and few answers, he found that he had no trouble letting the darkness take him.