1991, 1st year
The room Harry found himself in was small and unfurnished with only a fireplace and the moving portraits lining the walls for decoration.
Severus was crouched right next to Harry, an arm's length away, looking as sour as he always did when Harry had a panic attack – Harry knew to look for the miniscule signs in the man's expression that revealed it was worry that turned his expression so dour.
There was no one else in the room.
"You're back with us, then," Severus muttered. "What happened? Was it the amount of people in the Great Hall?"
Healer Wright had told them to do this, a long time ago – Severus would bring Harry someplace safe and ensure no one would enter Harry's personal space (which always had the risk of making things worse) and once Harry calmed down enough to be aware of his surroundings again, they would talk through whatever had set him off. There was not a lot that set Harry off, these days, not anymore. Being apart from the Dursleys had already helped immensely.
Healer Wright was still concerned about how often Harry's mind wandered to faraway places, making him space out more often than was considered normal. Harry, to this day. didn't know what to think about that, even after two years of having irregular meetings with the man. Healer Wright was not an expert on the mind, he had once told Severus and Harry. Such specialisations had only recently begun to emerge and would likely take a long, long time to gain a foothold in the magical community. ("A very long time," Healer Wright had emphasised.)
"Harry?"
Harry blinked. "It was the Hat. But also the people, I think?" He winced. "We had to stand so close to each other in the side chamber, it made me uncomfortable and all the people in the Great Hall didn't help and they were all staring at me and I –"
"Take a breath, Harry. The Hat?"
Harry did as told and took a moment to collect himself again. "It can read minds, can't it?"
This seemed to give Severus pause.
"Yes," he replied eventually, slowly. "The Sorting Hat uses Legilimency to determine where it should place each student. I take it the idea made you panic?"
Harry nodded mutely. "I don't want anyone to look into my head. Ever."
Severus sighed. "I should have guessed as much." He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "This will certainly complicate things."
Someone else, Harry knew, would have tried to convince Harry to get over it and let the Hat sort him the usual way – clearly, all the others before him hadn't had a problem, after all. Harry always appreciated Severus working with him (or around him) rather than against him.
A door behind them opened and the sounds of what was probably the Great Hall – people chatting, cutlery clanking, food being munched on – filtered through.
"Alright there, Severus?" a tiny wizard asked, carrying the four-legged stool and the Sorting Hat inside. "The feast has only just begun. If we can get this sorted out quickly, he will still be able to get something to eat." He chuckled to himself at his own pun.
Harry eyed the Hat warily.
"Thank you, Filius. We will be out shortly."
The tiny wizard – Professor Flitwick, Harry's mind supplied, having overheard the name at one point or another – gave Harry a smile and an encouraging nod and then returned to the Great Hall.
"What is this?" the Hat asked. "A student not wanting to be sorted?"
"Not everyone is comfortable with a tattered hat looking directly into their minds without asking for their consent first," Severus snapped.
There was a moment of silence.
"I see," the Hat said eventually. "Well, if the young man is not comfortable with the way I was created to sort, then there is hardly anything I can do about that, is there?"
"You could simply talk to him. Figure out where to put him like that. Or we can agree to put him in Hufflepuff – that's where you wanted to go, wasn't it, Harry? The Hufflepuffs will take good care of you."
Harry nodded mutely.
The Hat seemed to be stunned for a moment, before it opened its tear wide to cackle loudly.
"Why not put him in your own house, then? Where you can watch over your ward most closely. Slytherin would certainly teach him a lot."
Severus frowned and opened his mouth to argue, but Harry quickly interrupted what would surely turn into a long-winded argument between his guardian and the Sorting Hat of all things.
"I would be fine with that," Harry hastened to say. "Really, I don't want to cause so much trouble. I've already caused enough of it."
It didn't matter to Harry where he would be put. He could manage to survive anywhere. And Slytherin didn't sound so bad from all Harry had heard about it from Severus. Besides, like the Hat had pointed out, Severus was Head of House Slytherin. That was already a huge point in its favour in Harry's eyes.
Severus frowned at him, then turned back to the Hat. "And you will tell the Headmaster that you sorted Harry into Slytherin when asked?"
"That is what I just did, is it not?"
"Very well, then. Come along, Harry. Let's see about getting you seated without a fuss. The Slytherins will know to keep quiet."
Severus took out his wand and cast a spell Harry had become all too familiar with over the last two years – a Notice-Me-Not spell.
He looked back at where the Hat sat on its little stool. "What about the Hat?"
"Minerva will collect it later."
Severus accompanied Harry through the door and along the wall to where the first-year Slytherins were sitting. No one paid attention to them until they reached their destination and Severus waved his wand to alter the spell.
"Harry will be joining you," he told all the Slytherins within hearing distance, casting a stern look over them. "I trust you all to handle this discreetly."
They all nodded solemnly and one or two of them murmured a quiet, "Yes, sir."
Harry was honestly relieved.
"So you are Harry Potter!" Draco Malfoy exclaimed in what was almost, but not quite a raised voice.
He got an elbow to the ribs from his neighbour in response – the girl who hadn't been afraid of the ghosts. Now that Harry got a proper look at her, his mind not occupied with keeping the panic at bay, he could immediately guess just why that was. The girl had an unhealthy complexion paired with salt-and-pepper hair and clear, white eyes. Even her pupils were white. She couldn't be anyone other than the Lémure Severus had mentioned.
"My name is Malfoy," Draco Malfoy said, nose high in the air, pompous tone and all, "Draco Malfoy."
The boy to his other side snorted and, ignoring Draco Malfoy's glare, introduced himself as Blaise Zabini. Next to him sat Gregory Goyle. Harry was seated between Vincent Crabbe and a girl named Tracey Davis. The rest introduced themselves as Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, Daphne Greengrass, Theodore Nott and, finally, Antheraea Lémure.
"My parents like moths," she said with a shrug and a smile that sent shivers down Harry's spine. "Just call me Rhea. A scrawny thing like you better eat quickly before all the food is gone." The last bit was said in a sing-song tone and with a playful smirk on her lips that made Harry question her sanity.
Harry looked at Antheraea Lémure's clean and clearly unused dinner plate and decided not to comment on any of it.
The food disappeared quite literally at one point and got replaced by pudding, after which Headmaster Dumbledore gave a little speech and warned the students that 'the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side was out of bounds to everyone who did not wish to die a very painful death', followed by ... the school song. The less said about that the better.
A prefect showed the first-years the way to the dungeons and carefully pointed out landmarks they could use to find their way around down here until they finally reached an unassuming wall that revealed the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room when the correct password was spoken out loud in front of it.
Green lamps and several fireplaces illuminated a room filled with cosy armchairs and sofas arranged around low tables. Numerous bookshelves lined the rough stone walls. The windows were pitch-black, but according to one of the prefects, sunlight would filter through the water of the Great Lake during the day and sometimes you could even catch a glimpse of the giant squid and other merfolk living in the lake.
"I'm sure you are all tired," a prefect said. "And I can assure you your fellow Hufflepuffs are already fast asleep, the Ravenclaws reading books behind the hangings of their four-posters, the Gryffindors whispering excitedly to each other as they get comfortable. We will not keep you long, but there are important matters that need to be addressed first and they cannot wait until the morning."
Harry glanced around to see whether the others knew what was going on. Except for Draco Malfoy, who was wearing a presumptuous smirk, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, who didn't seem to be listening, and Tracy Davis, who seemed as unsure as Harry internally felt, they all wore carefully neutral and politely attentive expressions on their faces.
"You are now Slytherins, you are now one of us – and Slytherins look out for each other. The other houses will tell you we are evil. We are not."
"If that were true, they would have gotten rid of us a long time ago," another prefect grumbled.
"This means that one, no Slytherin should walk the corridors on their own. Always make sure you are in the company of at least one other snake or someone from another house you know to trust – like a sibling or a very good friend. This also means that Slytherin House as a whole stands united. We cannot afford to show weakness in front of the other Houses. No matter your personal opinions, when it comes to outsiders, we protect one another. Any conflicts you may have with each other will be solved behind closed walls only."
"Other than that," a different prefect continued, "don't get caught breaking any rules, don't cause trouble for Slytherin in general, try not to lose House Points, clean up after yourself – you know, common decency."
"If you ever have any concerns or just questions in general, don't hesitate to ask a prefect. That's what we're here for. Now, off to bed you go."
Their dormitories were up a flight of stairs and so the windows ended up being level with the surface of the lake, the water lapping against them gently. There were three beds to each side of the door, their trunks already waiting for them at the foot of each four-poster. The lamps here cast a silver light instead of green, though the silk hangings of their four-posters and the bedsheets made more than up for it. A wardrobe and a side table made of dark wood stood next to each bed and across from them, in front of the windows, were desks with matching chairs.
Harry was happy to claim one of the beds to the walls to himself and even happier to see Hedwig already curled up on it, waiting for him. It would take some time for him to get used to sharing a dorm with five other people, but on this day, at least, the exhaustion of all the prior excitement quickly caught up to him and so Harry quickly fell into a restless sleep.
o
Hogwarts, Harry decided, was horrible.
o
On their first morning at Hogwarts, it quickly became clear that the first-years wouldn't be able to attend breakfast together even if they wanted to.
While Draco Malfoy was an early riser just like Harry, quickly followed by Theodore Nott and joined by Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis in the common room, the rest couldn't be bothered to get up, yet.
(Harry was initially wary of getting changed in the dormitory, but Draco Malfoy only gave him a curious look when he took out one of his skirts and Theodore Nott didn't even react at all and the school robes hid his clothes nicely. Robes were nice like that, being essentially just shapeless dresses with long sleeves. Blaise Zabini would give Harry an appraising look in the evening, but that was about it and Harry would already feel much more comfortable in the shared space.)
Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson emerged at what was considered a reasonable time, considering they arrived at breakfast at the same time as just about almost the entire student body. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were a bit late, but still just in time to enjoy a large breakfast.
The stragglers came in mere minutes before they had to leave for their first class, having missed Severus handing out the timetables. Millicent Bulstrode wolfed down her breakfast at an alarming speed, while Antheraea Lémure didn't eat anything at all, stopping at a simple cup of tea.
This would turn into somewhat of a morning routine as the school year went on. Lunch and dinner were taken together, if only because they all had the same schedules. It was a slightly different matter for the weekends, where Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle arrived later with Millicent Bulstrode (who did not slow down eating despite being able to take her time now) and Antheraea Lémure didn't appear for breakfast at all, only emerging from the dormitories in time for lunch (and not even then, some days).
It was quickly, wordlessly decided that there was no need to wait for the late-comers and risk being late for class and so the Slytherins generally arrived in two groups for their first lessons of each day. Only the Hufflepuffs had a similar routine, always waiting for everyone to finish and leaving as one group. The Ravenclaws were … too individualistic and clearly not worried about walking around on their own, just like the Gryffindors.
Harry was glad to always walk in a group, for the whispers that followed him were rarely pleasant and did not help keeping his calm in a castle full of dangerous magical staircases with vanishing steps, odd doors, sentient portraits and way too many people that simply loved to stop and stare at him.
Whatever Harry had been expecting, it wasn't this.
(He already missed his lessons with Mr Risberg.)
At least the ghosts were helpful, even if that only applied when Antheraea Lémure was around. About half of them either didn't like talking to the students or weren't helpful otherwise. During their first week alone, Harry's group managed to get lost twice on the way to their first-period class because of the ghosts.
The first time, the ghost who helped them didn't consider that living beings couldn't glide through the walls. The second time, a ghost deliberately led them astray. This particular ghost suddenly turned into the nicest person the moment Antheraea Lémure was present. Must have been a Necromancer thing, Harry thought.
The lessons, themselves, were fine, at least. For the most part. For one, Harry would have preferred not to have to stay up past midnight for Astronomy lessons during the week when he had to rise early for the first period the next day. History of Magic couldn't have been taught by a more boring teacher – or ghost, in this case. (Not even the presence of a Necromancer seemed to help. Professor Binns truly was a hopeless case.) Professor Quirrel was kind of useless at his own subject, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Potions – which Harry had been looking forward to as the subject he was most familiar with – was unfortunately shared with the Gryffindors. Who hated Slytherin as a whole on principle.
But Harry understood what was being taught and classes generally had simple rules to follow – pay attention, don't interrupt the teacher, do your homework.
It was a busy first week. Harry was thankful for that, at least, because it gave him a convenient excuse not to socialise and avoid any and all awkward interactions. Well, almost all, because the first time they shared a class with the Ravenclaws, Oliver Rivers came up to him and bluntly asked him what Harry's 'little issue during the Sorting' had been about.
It was only then that Harry realised that not a single Slytherin had actually asked him about that so far – none had expressed any curiosity about it at all, though Harry was certain they all burned to know.
The words of the prefect about how they 'couldn't afford to show weakness in front of the other Houses' rang in Harry's head as he tried to come up with an answer. He could just admit to having panicked, but that would be considered a weakness, wouldn't it? And then he would have to explain why he had panicked and that would only serve to dig the pit he was already in deeper.
Having apparently been silent for too long, Oliver Rivers eventually took pity on him and told Harry that it was fine if he didn't feel comfortable answering.
"You," Blaise Zabini told him after Oliver Rivers had left, "need to learn how to lie."
AN
The Sorting Hat understands the concept of consent, because I say so. Why it didn't follow Snape's suggestion and actually talked to Harry to determine where to put him is anyone's guess. It's a hat.
For those few who read my Old Magics series:
Rhea is the grandchild of Naenia's oldest brother Orcus. Naenia is in Europe, studying the Totengräbers' ways. Naenia's brother Veiovis died before fathering a child, so Lynea doesn't exist as such in this universe.