Sunday, 3rd September

Once all the students had finished eating and the noise level in the hall was starting to creep upward again, Dumbledore got to his feet once more. Talking ceased immediately as all turned to face the headmaster - apparently, this was a yearly occurrence.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices" Dumbledore said, "First-years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students - and a few of our older students ought to know by now too".

Across the room at the Gryffindor table, Fred and George both stood and took a bow to a series of cheers and laughter before retaking their seats.

"Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr Filch's office door" the Headmaster continued with a smile, "We have also had a change in staffing this year - we are very pleased to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher".

There was a round of polite but fairly unenthusiastic applause.

"Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the-" Dumbledore abruptly stopped, turning to give an inquiring look at someone sitting further down the head table.

As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why the Headmaster had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge said, "Hem, hem" and it became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech.

Dumbledore, to be fair, only looked taken aback for a moment, then he smartly sat back down and looked alertly at Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. Other members of staff were not as adept at hiding their surprise. Professor Sprout's eyebrows had disappeared into her flyaway hair, and Professor McGonagall's mouth was as thin as Harry had ever seen it - apparently, new teachers interrupting Dumbledore was not a yearly occurrence.

"Well, she's got nerve" Blaise muttered next to him, "Perhaps you won't be the only interesting addition this year, Potter".

Having already been forewarned about the toad-like woman, Harry could only silently agree. He'd already researched every single law and legislation that she'd tried to get past Wizengamot and he'd firmly disagreed with every single one - so he didn't think for one second that she was about to give a speech on fairness and goodwill and respect.

"Thank you, Headmaster, for those kind words of welcome" Professor Umbridge simpered, her voice painfully high-pitched and disgustingly breathy, "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!"

She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth, but when Harry gave a subtle glance around the hall, he didn't see a single student smiling back at her.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends! The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching".

Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back. McGonagall's dark eyebrows had contracted so that she looked positively hawklike, and Harry distinctly saw her exchange a significant glance with Snape as Umbridge gave another little "Hem, hem" and went on with her speech.

"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. Then again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation-"

Harry blocked her out. She struck him as the type of person who could talk for a very long time without really saying anything at all. And besides, he knew exactly the kind of "tradition" that she wanted to maintain - specifically, the old ways of life that had pure-bloods on top and muggles and magical creatures stomped firmly beneath their dragon-hide boots.

He wondered if she was a pure-blood herself, or "merely" a half-blood, and made a mental note to ask Sirius about it. There was already a precedent, after all, for half-bloods masquerading as the "better half" of society.

"Does she even hear herself?" Blaise muttered again, "She couldn't have been less subtle about the Ministry's intentions for Hogwarts if she tried!"

"Let us 'move forward' by 'maintaining old traditions'" Davis said in a passable impression of Umbridge's high-pitched voice, "Christ! She clearly doesn't hear herself or she'd know just how stupid and impossible that sounds! Who the hell does she think she is?"

Harry was briefly surprised by the muggle swear but then realised that the girl's unfamiliar surname and lack of title likely meant that she was a muggle-born or a half-blood like him.

"I've heard my father talk about her" Draco replied, scowling, "She's the Senior Under-Secretary. A sycophant of the Minister through and through".

Again, Harry found himself surprised - both because if Lucius Malfoy, of all people, was calling someone else Fudge's groupie then they had to be bad, but also because he genuinely didn't think that Malfoy knew what words like 'sycophant' even meant before now.

Tracey frowned. "The Senior Under-Secretary? Is that like- like the Permanent Secretary of State or something?"

Now it was Draco's turn to frown. "The what?"

Harry had to bite back a smile. "Closer to the Deputy Prime Minister, actually".

"Oh". She gave him a considering, yet troubled look. "Well, that's not good".

On her other side, Bulstrode snorted and wrapped an arm around her waist. "As usual, darling, you are the Queen of the Understatement".

Davis shoved at her half-heartedly but Harry didn't miss how she also blushed and leaned into her hold - and wasn't that interesting? As if reading his mind, Blaise sighed and told him in a stage whisper, "Yeah. They're still in the honeymoon phase".

"And you'd know all about honeymoons, wouldn't you, Zabini?" Millicent shot back, although the reference sailed right over Harry's head.

Blaise, on the other hand, shot her a dirty look and opened his mouth to retaliate, but before he could, Umbridge finished her speech and there came a smattering of applause around them.

"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating" Dumbledore said, standing up once more, "Now, as I was saying-"

"Yes, it certainly was illuminating" Nott muttered, "It would appear that the Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts".

"Can they do that?" Tracey asked, draining the last of her pumpkin juice, and Greengrass gave an unhappy nod. "The Ministry passed a new Educational Degree just before we returned. From now on, whatever Hogwarts does, the Minister himself is going to be informed about it. Personally".

"Well, hey, maybe we'll get lucky!" Blaise said, trying to lift the gloomy atmosphere, "The DADA position is still cursed, remember? No matter how intolerable she is, we'll only have her for a year at most".

Yeah, Harry quietly thought, but I know firsthand just how much can happen in one year…

As the applause died down and Dumbledore finished his announcements, the Great Hall began to stir. Students rose from the long tables in clusters, conversations already buzzing about Umbridge's speech and what it meant for the school.

Harry stood up with the rest of the Slytherins, glancing across the table to see Malfoy in hushed conversation with Parkinson. Their heads were close together, and Pansy's scowl was more pronounced than usual, her mouth moving quickly. Harry remembered Hermione mentioning that they were the Slytherin prefects this year, but before he could think about it any further, Blaise sidled up next to him, hands casually tucked into the pockets of his robes.

"Fancy skipping the hassle of marching down to the common room with the first years?" he asked, dark eyes sparkling with mischief, "I can show you the way if you like, save you the time and headache of getting caught up with Malfoy and Parkison herding the lost little snakelets".

Harry raised an eyebrow, amused. "And what's in it for you?"

"Absolutely nothing". Blaise grinned and raised a hand to draw an imaginary 'x' over his heart. "Upon my honour as a Slytherin, I promise you that the first favour comes free of charge".

Before he could reply, Draco suddenly appeared next to them.

"Lord Gloucester" he began briskly, "since you're not technically a first year and don't need the grand tour, Zabini can take you to the dorms".

"Oh, I can, can I?"

"You already offered, Zabini, so shut it! I've got enough on my plate with the firsties as it is!"

"Merlin, keep your pristine hair on! Come along, Potter - you're too old to be stuck trailing behind them anyway".

Parkinson, who had clearly overheard the exchange, gave Harry a sharp look as he passed. "Don't cause any trouble!"

He gave her a bland smile. "I wouldn't dream of it, madam".

She huffed before turning to address a group of confused-looking first years who were huddled nervously nearby. Malfoy gave Harry a curt nod, as if to cement the arrangement, then strode off with Pansy in tow.

"Well, his royal highness has spoken so it looks like you're stuck with me tonight" Blaise said, starting to walk towards the large doors, "Come on, I'll show you the shortcut. The common room's in the basement so the route down there isn't as glamorous as the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Towers, but I'd argue it's a lot more exclusive".

Harry gladly followed him out of the Great Hall, falling into step beside him as they cut through the throng of students headed to their respective dorms. The further they walked, the quieter the halls became, and he was beyond grateful to leave the staring and pointing behind him.

"So" Blaise said after a moment, breaking the comfortable silence, "What do you think of Slytherin so far? Worse than you'd expected?"

Harry considered the question for a moment. The rest of his year were definitely different than what he'd expected, but not necessarily worse. Less aggressive, perhaps, but simultaneously far more cut-throat.

"I'd say it's more… calculated than I thought" he replied carefully, "Everyone seems to be very aware of where they stand. Or where they want to stand".

Blaise smirked. "That's Slytherin for you - the House of ambition and, more importantly, survival. You'll catch on fast. In fact, for someone who didn't spend the last four years here like the rest of us, I think you've already got a pretty good head start".

They descended a flight of stone stairs, and Harry noticed the air growing cooler, the walls slick with moisture. They must be heading down into the depths of the dungeons.

"Although" Zabini added, "As much as it pains me to admit this, Malfoy did have a point about you calling You-Know-Who by his followers' favourite title. Do you really not care what people will think about you for that?"

He shrugged, playing it off. "Why should I? It's just a title. I'm not about to pretend he doesn't exist just because it makes some people uncomfortable. If they don't like me calling him the Dark Lord, then I'll start calling him Lord Voldemort and then let's see how quick they change their tune".

Blaise snorted, shaking his head. "You're braver than I thought, Potter… or crazier".

They stopped at a seemingly unremarkable stretch of wall, where the other boy muttered something under his breath. The wall shifted and slid open, revealing the entrance to the Slytherin common room and Harry followed him inside.

His first impression was that it was… impressive. The room was large with warm lamps, low-backed black armchairs and button-tufted leather sofas; everything tinted slightly green from the Great Lake which, Harry was amazed to find, was completely visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows on his left. The room was dominated by dark brown wood with silver accents shimmering in the low light. A grand fireplace crackled across from them, casting an eerie but calming glow over the stone walls.

"Welcome to Slytherin" Blaise said, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space. He gestured toward the plush armchairs near the fire. "Make yourself comfortable. I'm sure the others will come stumbling in eventually".

Harry took a seat, sinking into the surprisingly soft leather. He glanced around the room again, marvelling at how it felt both luxurious and cosy at the same time - trust the Slytherins to master that particular balancing act.

"Not bad" he admitted, "I expected something a bit more… foreboding".

Blaise smirked, stretching out lazily on the couch opposite him. "That's the idea. People expect snakes and chains, but we prefer refinement. You'll get used to it… Now that we're away from prying ears, however, I've got to ask - how much of that was an act back there?"

Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?"

"The whole 'I don't care what people think, and I'll call him what I want' bit". Blaise leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "That's either pure Gryffindor bravado, which would be wildly out of place, or you've got some other angle you're playing… I'm dying to know which".

He tilted his head, considering how much to reveal. "Maybe it's neither. Maybe I just don't see the point in pretending to be someone I'm not".

"A plausible answer" he conceded, his smirk deepening, "But here's a word of advice - Slytherin's all about playing the long game, Potter. A little pretension can go a long way when it comes to keeping your neck intact".

"I'll keep that in mind" he replied lightly, although, admittedly, he appreciated the warning. For all of his easy-going nature, Blaise seemed just as sharp as the next Slytherin - undoubtedly someone worth keeping on his side.

Before their conversation could go any further, the sound of footsteps on stone caught their attention. Turning, they saw a few other older Slytherins drift in from the hall, some of them nodding at Zabini and more than some throwing curious glances in Harry's direction. None of them approached him, though, and he grimly wondered just how long this temporary truce would last.

"The password's 'mandrake root' by the way" Blaise said, his voice and posture relaxed once more, "But it changes every two weeks with the new password being posted on the noticeboard the day before. And, just a quick FYI, Snape will skin you alive if you bring anyone from another House back here".

"Is he really that protective? Or just that secretive?"

"A bit of both, I'd imagine. Us snakes are a self-preserving lot, after all, and we all agree that having a safe den to come back to is more than worth having to meet our friends elsewhere". Blaise gave him a look. "So be sure to tell your pet Gryffindors that, alright?"

Harry gave him a curious look. "Why are you so sure that I even have pet Gryffindors?"

"Oh please!" He scoffed, straightening up and placing an ankle on the opposite knee. "As much as I doubt that the Daily Prophet article told us the truth, I don't believe for one second that Dumbledore hasn't already sunk his claws into you. Let me guess, he found you, patted you on the head, and then sent you on your way to the Weasleys?"

"I found him, actually" Harry corrected without any heat, "And while you're right about the Weasleys, I actually spent the past few weeks living with my godfather".

"Your… godfather?" All traces of amusement had vanished from his face, replaced by a confused frown. "What do you mean, your godfather? I didn't even know you had one!"

"Nor did I" he replied dryly, "Until I went to Gringotts, that is".

"He's a wizard, then?"

"Oh yeah".

"Anyone I'd have heard of?"

Harry couldn't stop the teasing grin that started to spread across his face. "Yeah, probably".

Blaise stared at him.

Harry stared back.

"It's Sirius Black".

"What?!" The boy's exclamation was so loud that it temporarily silenced all other conversations in the room. "Your godfather is the bloody Duke of London?!"

"Yep. Although I usually just call him Pads".

Blaise appeared to be having some difficulty breathing.

"You- You just call him- And he- And you- And he-"

Several Slytherins nearby were now openly staring, and Harry was starting to feel like maybe he should've kept that revelation to himself for the moment - if only to avoid the spectacle of Zabini possibly choking on his own disbelief.

Harry leaned back in his chair, trying to appear as casual as possible. "Well, yeah. It's not as if I'm gonna call him Lord Black over breakfast, now is it?"

Blaise gave an almost hysterical laugh, running a hand through his dark hair. "Merlin's beard, Potter! Your godfather is Sirius Black, you're living with him, and you just- what? Stroll in here acting like it's no big deal?!"

"To be fair" Harry said, smirking, "You did ask".

Blaise muttered something under his breath that Harry suspected wasn't entirely complimentary, then gave him a long, assessing look.

"Alright. So. Let me get this straight. You've been in Slytherin for less than a day, you've already managed to scandalise half of the House with your You-Know-Who nonsense, and when this gets out you'll end up scandalising the other half. I don't know whether to applaud you or to start watching your back!"

Harry shrugged, barely suppressing his grin. "Preferably both".

Blaise shook his head in disbelief.

"Salazar help us. You've got Malfoy eating his own tongue trying to stay civil - although, this does explain why he's doing that much, at least - half the school thinks you're some kind of invincible boy wonder, and now you're telling me you're the Duke of London's heir?" He let out a low whistle. "No wonder the Dark Lord wants you dead. You're exhausting, Potter".

Harry raised an eyebrow. "That's the part you think is exhausting?"

"Oh, no, there's plenty more, I'm sure" he replied, waving a dismissive hand, "But give me a minute to recover from this bombshell before I catalogue the rest".

Before Harry could respond, Bulstrode and Davis stepped into the room and strode over to them. Millicent glanced between the two of them and then gave Harry a curious look.

"What's all the fuss about?" she asked, crossing her arms, "Zabini looks like he's about to faint".

"I am not!"

"No fuss" Harry replied smoothly, "He's just being over-dramatic".

"Dramatic?! I'm not-"

"Ah. So it's business as usual then" she said succinctly, stepping around them to take the armchair next to Harry's, before pulling a blushing Tracey onto her lap, "Doesn't matter, I guess. If it's that big a deal, I'll hear about it soon enough. Gossip travels faster than owl post in this House".

Blaise gave her an affronted look but seemed to think better of arguing. Instead, he turned back to Harry, leaning closer and lowering his voice.

"You do realize this is going to get out, right?" he said, his tone now more serious, "Even if I don't say anything - and, by the way, I'm still considering it - someone else will. This is huge! Sirius Black has been a recluse since Azkaban, you're the Boy Who Lived and his heir, and now you're here in Slytherin! If the Prophet finds out-"

"They won't" Harry interrupted, his voice firm, "Not for a while, at least. Sirius doesn't want the attention, and neither do I".

He snorted. "Good luck with that… You might want to work on a few strategies for dealing with all the questions, though. Because if there's one thing Slytherins are better at than scheming, it's digging up secrets".

Harry gave him a tight smile. "Thanks for the advice".

"Anytime". Blaise straightened up, his smirk returning. "And- just for the record, Potter? This is the most fun I've had in years. Keep it up, would you?"

After a very high-and-mighty-and-holier-than-thou speech from Malfoy and Parkinson, the first years were ushered up the stairs to bed, and not long after, the rest of the House followed - classes were due to start bright and early tomorrow morning, after all, and everyone was exhausted after travelling all day.

Harry followed Blaise up a sleek, curved staircase on the far side of the room, which split into two and spiralled up to two separate corridors.

"Boys on the left, girls on the right" Zabini explained, "Your trunk should already be in our room. You're sharing with me, Theo, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, but don't worry - the room's more than big enough to house all of us. In fact, it's Malfoy's ego that takes up the most space, but the rest of us do well enough in squeezing around it".

From a few feet up the staircase, a blond head whipped around. "Oi! I heard that!"

"You were meant to!" Blaise shot back, "And leave some hot water for the rest of us, won't you, my liege?"

Draco scowled at him fiercely before turning back and stomping up the remaining steps to the landing. The other boy rolled his eyes but he was still smiling, so Harry didn't think there was any real malice behind his teasing.

"Here we are then" Blaise announced, expertly catching the smooth wooden door before Malfoy succeeded at slamming it shut, "Home sweet home".

Stepping into the room, Harry glanced around curiously. It really was quite a large room, one that was now comfortably fitting six ornate four-poster beds, covered in green silk hangings. Silver lanterns hung from the ceiling and mediaeval tapestries depicting the adventures of famous Slytherins covered the walls. There were wooden nightstands, dressers, and chairs next to each bed and a long wooden bookcase with an owl perch by the window at the opposite end of the room.

"That'll be you" Blaise said, nodding at the bed on the right at the far side of the room, "Theo sleeps closest to the door and Crabbe's across from him with Goyle one bed below. Malfoy's directly opposite you, I'm afraid, but I'm immediately to your left, so at least there's that!"

Harry nodded absentmindedly, not entirely happy about being so far away from the door - Nott had the right idea there - but at least he was next to the bookcase, and directly above that was the window. He recognised his oak and black dragon-hide trunk at the foot of the bed. He'd been told by the others to leave his belongings in the carriage when they'd first arrived, and he hoped that Hedwig had been placed in the owlery alright.

"Potter".

Draco was standing at the threshold of the only other door in the room, which was located a few meters next to the main entrance. Behind him, Harry could see gleaming black and emerald tiles - the bathroom, then.

"Yes, Malfoy?"

The boy's frame was rigid, his arms crossed and a cold expression on his face - but for all of his posturing and bravado, Harry couldn't help but think that it was all just a grand performance.

"Potter" he said again, his voice firm, "Listen carefully. In this room, we leave politics at the door. This dorm is sacred ground - what happens here stays here and politics and- and bloodlines have no place inside these walls! You leave whatever prejudices and disputes that you have at the bloody door! Got it?!"

Harry wryly thought that, given how everyone else here except for him was a pure-blood from traditionally Dark families, things like blood and politics had never actually been a problem for them before. Nevertheless, he agreed.

"Got it".

"I'm a prefect now, Potter" Draco continued, his eyes narrowing suspiciously, "I'll take points if I have to. Don't try me. I'm not afraid to do it!"

Harry almost laughed - until he realised that the boy wasn't joking. Losing a few measly House points really was, apparently, the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Malfoy genuinely believed that this was the best and most effective thing that he could threaten him with.

The absurdity of it all hit Harry like a slap to the face. Here was Draco Malfoy, the Marquess of Winchester and future Duke of Wilshire, standing in front of him and legitimately threatening him with the loss of House points. It was as if he'd never had to face any consequences for his actions before, as if he'd never once been made aware of anything more serious than losing a game of chess or not getting the latest broom model for Christmas.

Harry hated it.

Harry envied it, too. To think that someone could be so far removed from the real world that their biggest worry was about entirely arbitrary child's play that would mean absolutely nothing once they left school. What was that life even like, he wondered, growing up with so much comfort and luxury and security that the thought of struggle and survival hadn't even once crossed his mind…

"Potter!"

"... I understand" he finally replied, his voice just a touch colder than he intended, "Blood and politics at the door. No problem".

"Good".

And with that, he spun on the spot and slammed the bathroom door shut behind him.

"Don't mind him" Blaise said, all but throwing himself on his bed, "Has all the makings of an actor, that one".

"He's right, though" came a soft voice from behind him, and Harry quickly stepped aside to let Nott Junior pass, "We're to spend the next three years living together, after all. Can't do that if we're at each other's throats all the time".

"Fair enough" Blaise replied easily, "But he doesn't need to get all ponce-y about it - and besides, it's not as if Potter here has gotten all preachy about good and righteous Gryffindor worldviews, either".

Crabbe and Goyle loudly stumbled past, heading straight for their beds, so Harry walked down the centre aisle to his own bed at the far side of the room. There was a rudimentary black alarm clock on his nightstand that he didn't recognise.

"Muggle technology doesn't usually work that well in Hogwarts, so they give us those each year. You'll have to set it for whenever you want to get up" Blaise explained, "You should also probably pack your school bag now rather than waiting until the morning because there is always a last-minute rush".

"You should also ward your curtains tonight too" Nott added mildly, "Lest there be any… wandering hands".

"Oi!" Zabini exclaimed, rounding on him with a poorly-hidden grin, "Barely one day into the school year and you're already giving me a bad reputation with the new kid!"

"I'm merely giving Lord Gloucester here some meaningful advice" Nott replied, as calm as ever, "Given your family's track record, after all…"

"And you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" Blaise shot back, before, "And I'm hardly going to take after my mother now, am I?"

"Hmm… no, I suppose not" he relented, "You'd at least wait until Lord Gloucester was seventeen first so that your very brief marriage would still be considered legal, therefore allowing you to inherit everything. It's the Zabini way, after all".

"Oh, fuck off, Theo!"

"Zabini" Harry repeated, thoughtfully, sitting down on the edge of his criminally soft bed, "Is that… Italian?"

"Portuguese, actually" Blaise corrected, turning back to him, "My mother is from Brazil".

"And she gave you her name? Instead of your fathers?"

"Which father?" he asked wryly, "I believe I'm up to stepdad number... seven at the moment, although I don't foresee him lasting until Christmas".

"I'll let my own father know, shall I?" Nott said lightly, and the boy flashed him a grin. "If you wouldn't mind. We don't want him to be caught off-guard, after all - as much as I care for and appreciate and adore you, Theo, love of my life, I'd rather us not be brothers. One earldom is more than enough for me".

"The feeling's mutual, Zabini" he replied easily, "I'd rather not have my father die accidentally anytime soon either".

"There is that". Blaise grimaced, before turning back to Harry. "But anyway, if you're asking about my biological father, then no. My mother kept her own name when she married him - has kept her own name for every marriage, actually".

"It's almost as if she knows they won't last" Nott remarked, amusement glittering in dark eyes, and he nodded in agreement. "I mean, the paperwork alone to change her name back so many times would be a nightmare, so... you know. What's the point?"

If what Harry was hearing was true, and if his assumptions hadn't led him astray, and if the others' mildly disturbed yet reluctantly impressed looks were to be believed... then that would make Zabini's mother quite literally a Black Widow.

"And your title?" he asked, somewhat cautiously, "Viscount Baring? That's from...?"

"Husband number… three, I believe. Francis something-or-other, I don't know, he didn't stick around for very long. Flying accident; you know how it is". Blaise shrugged before suddenly smirking. "In fact, he only lived just long enough to legally adopt me, which will allow me to claim the Earl of Northbrook title and all that comes with it as soon as I come of age".

"Convenient, that".

"Very".

Which also explained why Harry hadn't come across the Zabini family in Rowle's genealogy book. If his mother - who was currently, presumably, the Countess of Northbrook - was from Brazil, then their family wouldn't have deep enough roots in England yet for the book to have registered them.

"Shut up the lot of you, and go to sleep!"

The bathroom door had reopened and Malfoy stood there with damp hair and his hands on his hips wearing Slytherin-green silk pyjamas.

"Yes, your highness" Blaise quickly replied, followed shortly by Nott, "Of course, my liege".

Crabbe and Goyle merely blinked. Smirking, Harry grabbed his own pyjamas and went to change. He'd promised to call Sirius and Remus through the two-way mirror before going to sleep, and he didn't want to keep them waiting any longer than necessary.

Returning to the dorm, he saw that the curtains around Malfoy's bed had been firmly pulled shut, as had Crabbe's and Goyle's.

Blaise caught his look and winked. "They definitely need their beauty sleep".

Biting back a laugh, Harry climbed into his own bed after subtly sneaking the mirror out of his trunk without the others seeing it and reporting him. He didn't know if using such a magical artefact was against school rules or not, but knowing his godfather, it very likely was, and he wasn't willing to take that chance.

Shutting his own curtains, Harry wandlessly cast a quick silencing spell before sitting up cross-legged, picking up the silver mirror, and clearly saying, "Sirius Black".

Suddenly, the reflection of two figures appeared, and, even as Harry watched, they started to take shape, the white mist dissipating and being replaced by familiar grey and chocolate-brown eyes, both men sporting a near-identical grin.

"Hey pup" Sirius greeted, "Tell. Us. Everything!"

Remus gave him an exasperated look but seemed just as eager to hear the answer.

"How was the train ride?" Sirius pressed, "Did you sit with the Weasleys? Did you get to the castle okay? How was the feast? Did you make any friends? Did Snape give you a hard time? Did- WAIT! What House are you in?!"

Giving them a somewhat sheepish grin, Harry tilted the mirror back just enough so that they could see the green and black crest sewn into the fabric above his bed.

His godfather's jaw dropped. "Slytherin?! You got- You're actually- You were sorted into Slytherin?!"

"... Yeah?"

"Unbelievable!" he exclaimed, "How dare you! I cannot believe that you would- Did you seriously just- I can't even-"

Harry started to feel his grin fade.

"How could you do this to me, pup?!" Sirius continued, disappearing from the mirror as he started to pace the room, "How could you- Unbelievable! This is just- How dare you make me lose that bet!"

How dare he-

Wait.

Was this about-

"I had so much money on this, pup!" he continued, off-screen, "Oh sweet Merlin, we are going to be destitute! Do you have any idea how many people I have to pay, now?! Oh, why couldn't you have asked for Gryffindor? We could've been rich! Filthy, dirty, rotten rich!"

"You already are rich" Remus replied with a long-suffering sigh, "Now calm down and come back over here before you give your poor godson a heart attack".

He obediently reappeared, his hair a little more dishevelled than before and an over-dramatic pout on his face.

"I'm going to have to give Tonks so much money".

"Which is exactly what I told you before you made that stupid bet!" Remus shot back, "I, on the other hand, shall be receiving quite a nice paycheck from Minerva one of these days".

"Moony. Moony. You'll have to support me" his partner said seriously, "I'll have to become a kept husband. I can't afford to live on my family's money anymore. It's all been lost. Harry's in Slytherin, which means he's got ambition so he'll be fine, but I'm just a simple Gryffindor, Moony. I can't make my own way in the world anymore!"

"Simple, is right" Remus replied dryly. Meanwhile, Harry's pulse was starting to slow again as it finally clicked that Sirius wasn't mad that he was in Slytherin - he was mad that he'd lost a bet.

"You're really not… upset?" he asked, cautiously, hating himself for needing the reassurance but hating the thought of the worst-case scenario even more.

His godfather turned back to him, and his eyes softened when he saw Harry's nervous expression.

"... I'm not gonna lie to you, pup. When I was younger, I would've been absolutely horrified that you're in Slytherin. But now? I don't give a single damn about that anymore".

It felt as though a weight had been lifted off of Harry's chest, and suddenly, he was finding it a lot easier to breathe.

"The fact that you're alive, that I'm standing here talking to you and actually have the chance to be your godfather? That's all that matters to me, pup. Everything else pales in comparison". Sirius's smile had returned, but there was still an undeniable dampness in his gaze. "So yeah, maybe you're in Slytherin, but who cares? As long as you're happy there, then that's good enough for me".

"... Thanks" Harry said quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

"And besides" the man continued, with a wry grin, "Given how I treated my parents when I was your age, this entire situation feels like karma. Seems only fitting that my godson would end up in Slytherin, huh?"

He snorted. "Yeah - I suppose there is a certain level of irony in that".

"Just don't go getting any funny ideas" Sirius warned, though his voice remained light, "If I see you pulling any of the stunts that I pulled with my parents, you'll be grounded till you're seventeen, got it?"

"Got it" he agreed, smiling, "Thanks, Padfoot".

"Don't mention it, pup. And don't let that Malfoy brat get you into any trouble either, you hear me?"

"Sirius!" Remus immediately scolded.

"What? I'm just saying! His father's a right slippery bastard and the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it? If you're going to get in trouble, Harry, then at least get in trouble for your own original ideas".

"Sirius!"

Laughing, Harry nodded in agreement, feeling a burst of warmth in his chest, thoroughly erasing all of his previous anxiety.

"Well, I think that's enough life advice for now" Remus said, shooting his partner a dark look, "You better get some sleep, pup. First day of classes tomorrow, remember?"

"Yeah, I know" he said, stifling a yawn, "I'm going to need all of my energy to be the centre of attention".

He rolled his eyes at it all, and the man grimaced in response.

"It won't be easy, I know, but once tomorrow's done, it will start getting easier" he said quietly, "And if anyone's being particularly intolerable, go straight to Dumbledore, alright?"

"Alright" Harry replied, lying through his teeth, "I'll keep you updated".

"You better" Sirius teased, "Or we might just have to pay Hogwarts a visit ourselves… We'll talk to you soon, pup".

"Goodnight, Harry".

The mirror's reflection began to fade, their faces dissolving into pale mist once more. Harry sat there for a moment, the mirror still in his hands, before he slid it safely underneath his pillow and sighed.

The room around him was silent, save for the occasional rustling from his yearmates. Harry quietly pulled back the curtain to his right and laid back against his pillows, pulling the covers up to his chin. He was still wearing the gold and emerald locket and it felt heavy around his neck but also strangely comforting.

Harry could see the half-crescent moon and glittering stars outside the window next to his bed and could hear the lake water gently lapping against the wall just below it - a brief respite of peace before his inevitably chaotic future.

Tomorrow couldn't be over fast enough.