CHAPTER 5

The Great Hall was bathed in the soft morning light filtering through the windows, still fogged up from the rain of the previous night. The air was fresh, carrying a light touch of spring, and the scent of freshly prepared food floated in the cozy, welcoming atmosphere. Harry was one of the first to arrive, a little sleepy but relieved to finally be back at Hogwarts. In Gryffindor, the only other visible student was Neville, stumbling in with a book clutched under his arm, his eyes still heavy with sleep.

Harry sat at the table, grabbing a plate of scrambled eggs and sizzling bacon. The toast was golden, and the pumpkin juice was comforting, even without the refinement of the dishes Edgar prepared. But at that moment, it was enough.

He sighed, pushing away memories of the previous night, the cold touch of the Dementor still haunting him. But inside Hogwarts, he was safe. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

"Good morning," Hermione murmured, sitting down beside him. She looked more energetic than he did, as always. "Why didn't you wait for me?"

Harry gave a relaxed smile, trying to shake off the weight of his thoughts. "Good morning, Mione. I forgot you're always the first one up."

"Of course," Hermione replied with a playful smile. "I spent the summer organizing an entire study schedule. I've already reviewed all the lessons and books we'll need before our first classes today. I want to be prepared."

Harry raised an eyebrow, surprised. "You really think you'll manage all that on your own?"

"Of course, it wouldn't be the first time," Hermione answered, as if the question was obvious. "Besides, we don't have classes at the same time, so the time is all mine."

"I still don't understand where you get all this energy," Harry said, taking another bite of toast. "I keep wondering how you manage to do everything."

"I'm a dedicated student, Harry," she said, a mischievous smile on her lips. "You, on the other hand, are still in 'let's wait and see' mode."

Harry shrugged, and wanting to steer the conversation away from studies—at least from previous years—he opened the Advanced Magical Healing Treatises book that was on the table. Reading was a good distraction, something that took him away, even if just for a moment, from his worries.

"Oh, great," Ron grumbled, sitting down beside Harry with a plate full of food, the usual chaos surrounding him. "I should have trusted you to wake me up, right?"

Harry smiled, unable to hold back. "It was too early, Ron. There was no way to get you out of bed. You were so comfortable, sleeping like a rock."

"It was the best sleep of my life," Ron said with a sigh, shoving pieces of bacon into his mouth with no ceremony. Hermione made a disgusted face, and though Harry barely glanced at her, he knew exactly what was happening.

"Ron, wouldn't it be more polite to eat with a little more class?" Hermione commented, giving him a disapproving look. "You're going to end up swallowing the whole plate at this rate."

"Oh, that would be a great loss, wouldn't it?" Ron replied, flashing a wide grin before continuing to devour his bacon. "And don't tell me you weren't expecting me to do it on purpose."

"No, I wasn't thinking that. But okay," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes and reaching for more bread.

Harry watched the scene with a peaceful smile, feeling content to be there, in that simple moment of normality, with his friends. He loved these moments.

"Harrykins!" Fred exclaimed, his voice animated and unmistakable. "Magical healing? You? Don't tell me this is to avoid our dear Madam Pomfrey, huh?"

"Of course, Forge," Harry replied, turning to face the twin. "Don't you think it'd be interesting to learn something that could keep me away from her for a while?"

"I'd say it would be a shame if you stopped getting hurt," Fred joked, winking at him.

"Yeah, no adventures without a few good cuts, right?" George added, that teasing smile of his making Harry laugh.

Harry shook his head, chuckling. "Something like that, my dear twins. Actually, I got interested in this over the summer. It was a good way to pass the time and... well, it's a good plan for the future."

"Madam Pomfrey will have to be more patient with her favorite patient, huh?" Fred said with a mock look of sympathy.

"Or she'll think you're more useful as an assistant than as a patient," George added, making everyone around the table laugh.

Harry sighed but still had a smile on his lips. "I told her about it last night at the welcome feast. She actually seemed interested and said I could spend some time there with her."

"Are you becoming her assistant or just a patient again?" Fred and George asked in unison, earning laughs from everyone.

Harry stretched lazily, cracking his neck as he looked around the Hall. He saw Susan at the far end of the table, glancing at him briefly, but he ignored it, as he always did. He also noticed some Slytherin students exchanging looks, which reminded him of what had happened the day before. Maybe it was best not to think about that now.

"Just the person I was looking for," a familiar voice suddenly said. Harry looked up and saw Oliver Wood striding across the Hall. "Our Seeker!"

"Good morning to you too, Oliver," Harry replied with a smile. "Had a good summer?"

"The best one ever," Wood replied, his excitement evident. He sat down with a sigh. "I spent most of the time thinking about strategies, training... I want to take the team to victory this year. It's my last year, and I'm not letting it slip away."

Harry watched as the other team members approached, including Katie, Angelina, and Alicia, all with serious expressions.

"Finally, Harry," Katie said, dropping into an empty seat and throwing a glance at Wood. "I couldn't take hearing him talk about finding you and discussing strategies anymore."

Everyone laughed, including Wood, who pulled a face at her.

"I think Wood has a love affair with his broomstick," Fred said with a mischievous smile.

"Actually, he probably spends more time with it than with anything else," George added, making everyone laugh even more.

"You can laugh, but I'm sure we're winning the Cup this year," Wood said, his expression focused and serious.

"Well, we just need to make sure no ancient monster decides to attack the school in the meantime," Fred said, laughing at himself.

"Or that some maniac doesn't send Harrykins to the hospital wing again," George added with a chuckle.

"Or that Madam Hooch doesn't make up some crazy new rule and kick us out of the competition," the twins said in unison.

Wood, now clearly annoyed, glared at the twins. "I'm serious!"

"I'll do my best this year, Oliver," Harry suddenly said, patting Wood's back. "You can count on me."

Wood smiled, but his gaze remained intense. "I hope so, Harry. This year is going to be different. I can feel it."

Harry nodded, but his mind was racing, trying to process everything ahead: Quidditch, elective classes, his growing interest in magical healing, and maybe even an internship with Madam Pomfrey. But deep down, he knew this year would be important for him, his friends, for everyone. He just hoped things would actually go right.

As breakfast continued, Professor McGonagall arrived, passing through the students and handing out schedules. When she reached Harry's table, she smiled at him.

"I'm glad you chose good subjects, Potter," she said with a smile. "I imagined you'd go for Divination."

Harry smiled back and pointed to the book. "Something else caught my interest, Professor. And I thought it suited me better."

"Magical healing?" she asked, her eyes gleaming as if remembering something. "I wasn't expecting that from you, but I think it will be good."

She gave him one last smile before continuing to distribute the schedules.

Ron, who had been quiet until then, let out a long, irritated sigh.

"Is everything okay?" Harry asked, noticing his friend's discomfort.

"I still can't believe you didn't take Divination," Ron grumbled, frustrated.

"Ron, we won't have just one class together," Harry said, trying to ease the tension.

"Yeah, but we could have used that time for other things. You promised last year that you'd help me with flying," Ron said, looking hopeful.

"And I will keep my promise, don't worry," Harry replied, giving a crooked smile. "I just really want to focus on my studies. We can't depend on Hermione for everything, can we?"

Hermione, who had been listening to the conversation, looked slightly offended but also somewhat relieved. "I hope you're serious about that."

Harry winked at her and continued.

"Still," Ron said, thoughtful. "You're different. I've never seen you so interested in something other than Quidditch. And about Slytherin… Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would it have made a difference?" Harry asked, rolling his eyes.

"Of course it would," Ron replied. "If you were in Slytherin, maybe…"

"Maybe what?" Harry interrupted, his anger finally surfacing. "You'd stop being my best friend? I'd be on the enemy team? Outside of school, that doesn't exist, Ron!"

"But we're still in school," Ron insisted, irritated.

"You only judge Slytherin based on what Malfoy represents," Harry replied, trying to stay calm. "But the house isn't just him and his friends."

"All dark wizards were in Slytherin," Ron retorted.

"Isn't that a bit prejudiced?" Harry asked, his patience wearing thin. "I can think of dark wizards who were never even at Hogwarts." He recalled the books he had read over the summer, stories of wizards like Quirrell, and the thought made his stomach turn. "And anyway, do you remember which house Quirrell was in?" he whispered the last part.

"That doesn't mean anything," Ron said, still trying to defend himself.

"It doesn't mean anything because you don't want to see it," Harry replied, grabbing his things and standing up. "I'm your best friend, but I'm not your mother to keep giving you lectures. Think about it. See you later!"

"Harry, wait!" Hermione called after him, but he was already walking away, leaving Ron and Hermione stunned behind him.

~HP~

Harry walked through the corridors with heavy steps, the sound of his shoes echoing against the cold stone walls. The feeling of frustration followed him like a dark cloud. He couldn't understand how Ron could be so insensitive, as if he hadn't even tried to notice what was happening around him. His stomach churned—a mix of irritation and disappointment. It was true that he himself often didn't think about the words he said, but what Ron had done today went beyond acceptable.

He remembered what Edgar had once told him—that it was important to maintain friendships, especially with people from other houses. Meeting people later on was important. It was Edgar who started saying that "after school, it doesn't matter which house you were in." He hadn't seen the sense in that—until now.

He leaned against the wall for a moment, trying to regain his composure. "I am Harry Potter…" he murmured to himself, closing his eyes, trying to focus on his inner mantra. He needed something to calm the storm in his thoughts.

"I didn't expect you to talk to yourself, Potter. But I think everyone already knows who you are. No need to announce it." The voice cut through the silence abruptly, and Harry jumped, almost dropping the book he was holding. He looked up to see a tall, blonde figure standing before him.

It was Daphne Greengrass, and as always, she wore a serene, almost unreadable expression, but there was something in her gaze that made Harry uneasy, as if she knew something he didn't.

She was in full Slytherin uniform, the green and silver colors standing out clearly. Her blonde hair, shiny like strands of gold, seemed to reflect the dim corridor light. Her blue eyes were piercing, as if she were calmly assessing him. Her pale, flawless skin didn't match the damp, cold climate of Hogwarts. It was as if she didn't belong there, as if she came from another world—one he would never dare to enter.

Harry, already irritated enough, noticed a group of students behind her. He immediately recognized Blaise Zabini. The boy had olive skin and a serious, intense look. There was also Tracey Davis, with short hair and a constant smirk, as if she were always looking for an opportunity to joke. Along with them were the Carrow twins, with the typical Slytherin expression, but what bothered Harry the most was the way they looked at him—with a mix of disdain and curiosity.

"The ghosts might not know," he responded with a forced smile, trying to mask his tension. "They died before my heroic deeds."

"You'd be surprised what the ghosts say about you," Tracey said, chuckling softly.

"And what do they say?" Harry asked, feeling a curiosity he hadn't expected.

Tracey let out a low laugh, almost a whisper, and the others followed, a certain glint in their eyes. They were clearly amused at his expense, but something in their posture felt more friendly than the cruel taunts he had anticipated.

"Your fame is a fact, Potter. But don't let it get to your head," Tracey replied, her amusement fading.

"Harry," he corrected, quicker than he intended. "Call me Harry."

"Making friends with Slytherins? Won't your friend Weasel be mad about that?" Daphne asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry couldn't help but give a bitter smile. "Careful—he may be prejudiced against you, but he's still my best friend." He let out a small sigh. "But I don't care about that. I need to do what I want."

"And that includes making friends with Slytherins?" Blaise asked, his voice calm but with a tone of curiosity.

"You could say so," Harry answered, keeping his tone casual. "Why not?"

Blaise extended his hand, his light smile friendlier than Harry had expected. "I'm Blaise. This is Tracey, and that's Daphne—but you two seem to have already met. And over there are the Carrow twins."

"Harry," he said, narrowing his eyes at Daphne. "I met Greengrass yesterday by accident. She almost knocked me over."

"Correction: you knocked me over, Potter," Daphne said with a slight smile, a playful glint in her eyes. The situation had already become more relaxed, and Harry couldn't help but feel that, somehow, she was less intimidating than he had imagined.

"It depends on who tells the story," Harry responded teasingly. His remark made the others chuckle, including Daphne.

The group seemed more approachable than he had expected, which left him feeling a bit confused. He had always thought Slytherin was full of arrogant and hostile people. But here they were, having a normal conversation—no spells, no harsh insults. What was happening?

"Harry, finally!" Hermione's voice cut through the moment, and she appeared around the corner, looking worried. "I've been looking for you."

"I've been here the whole time," Harry said, trying not to sound as impatient as he felt.

"What happened at breakfast? I've never seen you talk to Ron like that," Hermione said, approaching him. "He's your best friend."

Harry ran a hand over his forehead, trying to suppress his frustration. "I know that, Mione. But it annoyed me—the way he acted. If I were in Slytherin, would that make me a dark wizard?"

"I bet he didn't mean it like that," she quickly replied, a hint of concern in her voice. She looked around at the students surrounding Harry, realizing he was no longer alone.

"Yeah, I bet he did," Harry said bitterly, unable to hide his frustration. "But that doesn't matter. These are my new friends!"

He gestured toward the Slytherin students around him, and suddenly, everything felt more awkward.

"Friends? I don't remember saying that," Tracey said with a smirk.

"He's getting ahead of himself," Daphne added with a playful laugh.

Harry turned red. "I mean, I—"

"We're joking, Potter," Daphne said lightly. "I'm Daphne Greengrass."

"Tracey Davis."

"Blaise Zabini."

Hermione looked at Harry, confused but also intrigued. She had never imagined she'd be here, talking to Slytherin students without the weight of prejudice or hostility. It felt like the ground was more even than expected.

"Hermione Granger."

"You're just as famous as Potter," Daphne said in an almost teasing tone.

"Famous?" Hermione looked startled, not understanding the reference.

"Draco complains about you just as much as he complains about Harry," Blaise said with a small smile. "He can't stand being outshone by someone who isn't a 'pureblood.'"

Hermione frowned, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of being part of Malfoy's constant obsession with blood status.

"I don't see it as a competition," she replied, more to herself than to anyone else.

"Neither do we," Tracey responded, giving Harry a look he couldn't quite interpret. Maybe she was trying to say it wasn't worth competing.

Harry smiled, but the feeling of treading unfamiliar territory didn't disappear. Talking to a Slytherin without hostility was a new experience. He looked around, and his attention was drawn to Susan, who was watching him from a distance. Something about the way she looked at him made his chest tighten—a mix of anger and hurt he couldn't shake off.

Before he could process what he was feeling, the classroom door opened, and Professor Babbling appeared. She was a tall, thin woman with graying hair and round glasses, making her look like a sterner version of an old spellbook.

"Come in," she said, paying little attention to the murmuring students.

One by one, the students began filing inside, and Harry followed the group into the room. The tables were arranged in squares so that each group could sit together. Harry chose a seat near the back, with a broad view of the room, and settled in. Hermione, as always, sat in the front row—the most dedicated student.

The chair beside Harry creaked, and he turned to see Blaise sitting down. The boy looked at him with a curious expression.

"Friends, right?" Blaise said, his voice smooth but with a teasing tone.

Harry gave a small smile, unsure of what to say. "You could say so."

Blaise chuckled lightly, more to himself. "If you say so. I think this year will be interesting."

"So do I, Blaise. So do I…"

Harry looked around the room and felt something unexpected. Maybe things really were changing. Maybe Hogwarts would be different this year. And maybe—just maybe—he could find a little bit of peace in the midst of it all.

~HP~

A/N:

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