Chapter Text
Steve Harrington had every moment of his life planned out. He knew who he was going to grow up to be; a perfect cog in the machine at the Ministry of Magic with a perfect pureblood wife and perfect pureblood children. Since he was old enough to understand, his father had drilled it into his head that the Harrington name commanded respect, and he had expectations to live up to. Expectations that now barreled towards him as he rode the Hogwarts Express for the very first time, nervous and excited to begin to become the man he was supposed to be, a great wizard like all who came before him.
Steve gazed out the window as the train weaved its way through the foggy landscape that led to the castle he would soon call his home for the next seven years. Tommy and Carol chattered with each other about their plans for the term and rumours they had heard about the various teachers and students, but Steve didn’t care too much for gossip and had just been nodding along absentmindedly. He momentarily pressed his face up against the glass, but the voice of his mother interrupted the activity; Good boys do not slouch, Steven! You must keep up appearances! He straightened his back quickly despite the fact that he was only with Tommy and Carol in the train compartment, a flush spreading over his cheeks thinking about the clip to the ear he would have received were his mother present.
His parents cared very much about their appearance. Steve had grown up in a world that felt as if it were curated for a museum rather than one that was meant to be lived in. The type of company his parents kept and the events they participated in were rarely entertaining for him, so Steve had learned over the years to simply be content in his own mind if he didn’t want to get an earful later. He smiled when he needed to, said the right things to the right people, and always maintained a look of sophisticated grace that he felt proud in knowing was beyond his years. At every moment, all Steve tried to do was be the son his parents wanted him to be, no matter what the cost was, and he was very good at it.
It was almost daunting to leave the rigid routine of home behind for the unknown that was Hogwarts. Steve didn’t quite know who he was supposed to be when he wasn’t standing tall beside his father doing what he was told. The Harrington name followed him around like a shadow, but the tight grip of his father’s hand on his shoulder and the pinch of his mother’s fingers did not, and without their correction, how was he to know when he was doing something wrong? Tommy certainly didn’t care about the Hagan reputation that followed him with equal ferocity. He lazed in the compartment with practiced ease, being exactly who Steve wished he could be as he laughed loudly and swore without hesitation, his head in Carol’s lap.
Tommy and Carol were Steve’s oldest and only friends. Sure, people noticed him and hung around him, but nobody knew him except the two people that sat in front of him now. And sometimes, he wondered if they actually knew him at all. They were already practically dating each other, the inevitability of their relationship as sure as Steve’s carefully laid-out life plan. It was just another thing that made Steve feel as though he was disappointing someone. No matter how close he was to the two, he would never have what they did, and not having that security left him feeling isolated. His father seemed to feel the same way, as he was often making comments about how Steve should “Find a nice girl like Carol to take to events,” despite him being too young to even think about bringing a plus one to any kind of party.
The further the train got from London, however, the more that Steve’s parents began to slip from his mind. His hands almost itched with the excitement of being so close to getting to use his new wand. Cypress wood with a dragon heartstring core, 12 inches. His dad had seemed pleased with the wand that had chosen him, “A fine wand for a young man,” he had said, but Steve wouldn’t have cared either way. Holding his wand in his hands for the first time in Olivander’s was the first time Steve had ever felt right in his 11 years. All he wanted was to feel that buzz again, the one that told him he was meant to be a wizard beyond his pureblood family name.
Steve’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his cabin door. He turned to see a tall, dark-haired girl standing outside the door. She was wearing a silver badge that said ‘Prefect’ and was smiling easily at him. Her robes were green; Slytherin, Steve thought. That was his goal for the end of the day: get sorted into Slytherin. None of the plans he had for the rest of his life would work if he were not in the right house. Ravenclaw might be passable but not ideal if he was going to show his family that he was the son they could be proud of.
“We’re almost at the castle, now would be the time to get changed into your robes.”
Steve nodded and immediately went to grab the robes he had gotten from Madame Malkins just the other day. His mother had insisted on waiting until the last moment to get them because Steve had already grown so much over the summer that she had been convinced he would have been too tall by the time school came around. As it was, they fit perfectly, and Steve smiled, thinking about the emerald green that would soon adorn them once he was sorted. As Carol diligently smoothed out the few wrinkles that had appeared on his and Tommy’s robes from being folded, Hogwarts castle appeared through the break in the trees that were surrounding the train. It was better than he had imagined. Towers of light stone stood tall on the rocky outcropping that held the structure, the whole of the castle seemingly endless from the lower vantage point. The growing darkness that covered the secluded landscape aided it in looking as if it glowed, the reflection of the golden windows on the lake like hundreds of stars.
Steve had to leave the cabin to see the castle fully on the left side of the train, and he was greeted by the awe-struck faces of all his fellow first-yers as they gazed together at their new school; a word that didn’t even feel fitting for the immense building that awaited them in the distance. Whatever magic he was going to learn inside those walls was going to be something to behold.
*****
The trip across the black lake had been cold and damp, but that wasn’t why Steve was shaking. The gentle chatter that he heard beyond the doors of the great hall was filling him with nerves and excitement as he had never felt before. His peers around him seemed charged with the same energy as they all stood in anticipated silence for Professor McGonagall to return to usher them on to the sorting. Steve knew how the sorting worked, the children of his dad’s friends had excitedly told him and Tommy everything about it at the last Harrington business event, but that didn’t make it any less daunting a task. As much as Steve was used to being the centre of attention, he didn’t care for it all that much. People’s eyes on him were a necessary evil at this point, but that didn’t stop it from making him feel an uncomfortable itch under his skin every time he was the topic of conversation. Tommy loved it, however, and welcomed the moment he would sit under the sorting hat for it to announce his Slytherin status to everyone in the room. He grabbed Steve’s hand excitedly, giving it a squeeze, and Steve squeezed back, a warmth spreading over him at the familiar gesture.
Professor McGonagall appeared in front of the group, her face in the stern but kind expression it could usually be found in as she instructed the first-years to stand in two single file lines and follow her through the doors. Steve stood between Tommy and Carol and began the walk forward. The chatter inside the great hall immediately diminished as the upper-year students turned to look at the new group that would be joining them for this school year. Hundreds of eyes followed their group as they made their way through the space. Steve couldn’t even take the time to be self-conscious; he was so busy taking in the scenery that now surrounded him. It was almost more impressive than seeing the castle from the outside. The illusion of the brilliant night sky filled the ceiling as countless floating candles danced around the seemingly endless room. Banners for each of the houses were hung over each of the four room-length tables that housed his new schoolmates that waited for the sorting to begin. He looked in front of him to see the head table, all the professors smiling at the fresh group of students that moved towards them in a nervous huddle. At last, they reached the front of the room, and McGonagall motioned for them to stop moving.
Steve could barely pay attention to the students called before him. He heard the names called, houses announced, and cheers of the room at the back of his mind. It was only when “Hagan, Thomas!” was called that he fully looked to the head of the room to watch with anticipation. His friend smiled as he sat on the small stool. The sorting hat sat on his head for a minute before shouting out “SLYTHERIN!” to the room. Steve clapped along with the rest of the crowd, watching as the Slytherin table shook hands with Tommy and showed him his place.
“Harrington, Steven!” he heard suddenly. Steve walked purposefully to the head of the room and sat down quickly to avoid letting anyone know how nervous he was. Tommy gave him a smile and a thumbs up, which Steve returned. As the sorting hat was placed on his head, he immediately heard the voice of the object echoing in his mind,
"Ah, Steve Harrington! I remember your father sitting on this very stool the day I sorted him into Slytherin. A wholly ambitious mind, that one. Not a doubt in my mind where he was meant to go, but you, my boy, you are more tricky."
Steve panicked as he heard the hat’s musings, silently willing it as hard as he could not to sort him into the wrong house.
"Hmm… not the wrong house, eh? Well, in that case… better be… GRYFFINDOR!"
Steve’s heart sank. Surely the hat knew what he meant when he asked for the right house. Surely he knew that the right house was Slytherin. He heard the applause from the students of Hogwarts, but his mind was blank. What would he tell his parents? What would they think of him? He looked up at Tommy at the Slytherin table, his friend’s face in a state of quiet shock as he clapped along with everyone else.
A Gryffindor boy pat him on the back as he slid into his seat beside the other first years who had been sorted before him. He smiled at him and the others around him, none of his exterior reflecting the turmoil that was going on in his mind. No matter what, I keep up appearances. This was planned; you make it look like you wanted this. Even if he were disappointing his father, he would at least need to let the people around him know he was the cool and confident Harrington son that they all thought he was. He wasn’t an 11-year-old boy who had just been let down, who had been separated from his only friends on what was supposed to be the first day of his future. He was a Harrington, and he was going to do whatever he had to do.