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**** FIRST YEAR: the Lone Slytherin ****
The only thing that keeps Harry going is that as bad as Hogwarts is, it still beats St. Grogory's and Stonewall High. Nobody plays Hunting Harry here - not yet, at least, a small voice in the back of his head says - but it still is it's own brand of horrible.
It begins in the morning as Harry wakes up and has to go to the Great Hall. Often he contemplates not going there, but his rumbling stomach beats his twitchy nerves every time. It seems like everyone is staring at him, sitting alone at his table, like he is some kind of strange creature from the Forbidden Forest. Harry is grateful for the fact that Slytherin table is near the wall - at very least he can sit facing the wall and not hundreds of students, whose glaces he can almost feel on his scrawny back.
Classes aren't so bad - at least the ones he has with Gryffindor students, he can at least rely on Ron being there. The ones with Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw - not so much. Some are wary of the green-trimmed robe, others may have caught up with the rumor mill spreading nonsense about him. Harry is pretty sure that Draco is hard at work badmouthing him to his house mates and anyone who is willing to listen, but he can't be the only one. The whispers behind his back, strange glances, refusal to work with him - it's all very distracting and it doesn't help Harry any when trying to actually learn something.
After classes there is library. Library is the nicest place in Hogwarts. There is always a quiet corner to take a seat without people looking or murmuring something about him. And Madame Pince does not tolerate any disturbance in her little kingdom. If Harry could live in the library, he most definitely would.
But all good things must come to an end and library is no exception. Every other student goes to House's common room - to chat with friends, to gossip, to play games, to relax before going to sleep in their dormitories. Harry drags himself into the dungeons and forces himself to step into the common room. It looks like it is designed to give people the creeps - weird green lights, uncomfortable furniture and tapestries of some ancient Slytherins whom Harry would definitely not want to meet in a dark alley.
Worst of all are the windows: apparently these people were crazy enough to build this dungeon into the depths of Hogwarts lake. At any other time the sight of a giant squid peering into the window would be enough to send Harry running. But realization that he is literally under the lake, that only centuries-old masonry and some similarly ancient charms keep him from being crushed and drowned by tons of water - that sets him on edge every time. Staff's assurances that such a thing may never happen do little to assuage his fears.
Slytherin dungeon feels like some kind of mausoleum and a solitary prison rolled into one. There is no one to talk to, no one to ask for help, not even anyone to watch. Also, somewhere nearby resides one Severus Snape, which is unnerving in and by itself.
There is only one good thing in Hogwarts that comes without if-s, but-s or compared to-s: he has a friend. As terrified as he was that Ron would abandon him - he didn't seem to enthusiastic about Slytherin on their train ride - youngest Weasley brother sticks with him. As far as Harry understands, people don't usually invite students from other Houses to their dormitories, but by the end of the first week he is so done he practically begs Ron to come with him.
His friend commiserates. Harry is not insane - there is at least one very reasonable boy who also finds the dungeons very unsettling. The way he tells it, Gryffindor Tower is the greatest place in the castle. There is actual light, nice decorations, commotion... And of course Godrick Gryffindor, being a God damn genius, didn't have his students live trapped precariously under the lake.
What a nice fellow he was, that Gryffindor.
Why did it have to be Harry who ended up in Slytherin?
**** FIRST YEAR: the Talk ****
"Why do I have to be in Slytherin?" asks Harry.
"That is an interesting question, but-"
"-the wrong one?" the boy can barely hold the urge to roll his eyes. He has a feeling where the conversation is going.
"Questions by themselves are rarely wrong, Harry," Dumbledore smiles. "But if you want to solve an issue, you must be careful to choose the question which will lead you to a resolution".
"I'm afraid I'm not following, sir."
Dumbledore leans over the table: "Allow me to present an alternative, if you will. Instead of asking yourself why you are in Slytherin - ask yourself why no one else is? For centuries Slytherin was a House like any other, full of students... What happened? Where did all the Slytherins go?"
Harry considers. He certainly didn't think about it from that angle - preoccupied as he was with his desire to get out of Slytherin. But there is an obvious answer... too obvious, perhaps?
"They say Voldemort was in Slytherin..." he starts, uncertain. "Maybe people don't want to go where he was?"
"Personal preference is a factor during Sorting," the Headmaster agrees, "and Voldemort's infamy did little to endear future students to his House. That, and Salazar's belief in supremacy of old blood, which he never hid from anyone. It's certainly enough to scare off most muggleborns who tend to do a little bit of research about their future school. But many an old family have joined Slytherin for generations - Voldemort's reputation would not be enough to turn them away".
"Then why are there no other Slytherins?" Harry asks, not sure if he actually wants to meet other Slytherins, but curious nonetheless.
Dumbledore takes pause, his hands toying restlessly with one of many strange devices in his office.
"You do not remember Voldemort's war, Harry. It is a blessing, believe me - slaughter, terror and paranoia reigned supreme for years. Entire families were wiped out to the last. Ancient manors were burned. Priceless artifacts were destroyed or stolen. Witches and wizards turned on each other, unsure who to trust and what to believe anymore. It was a terrible struggle and it has marked us all in the most disturbing ways. We are not the people we once were, Harry. We are the survivors. With so many of our best and brightest gone, an average wizard beyond these walls wants one thing - to let the dead rest and to live in peace. To tend to their little corner of the world and keep to it, to hide from the horrors of the past and fears of the future. This is what magical parents want - and this is what they pass on to their children".
Harry listens intently as the Headmaster continues.
"Salazar Slytherin wanted his followers to be of pure blood, but that was not enough. Slytherin's followers had to be intelligent, capable and above all - ambitious, willing to see their vision through no matter what obstacles stood in their way. This is what the purebloods of today lack, even if they still harbor notions of being better than everyone else. The war broke Voldemort's followers as much as it did us. They do not have the strength to fight for their misguided beliefs anymore. That is why Voldemort's army collapsed so quickly without him - and why children of his supporters were not sorted into Slytherin".
"I'm sure I don't want to fight anyone, sir, especially for their blood or whatever," Harry huffs.
"And neither should you. Salazar Slytherin has been dead for centuries. His cause need not be your own. But we can not live like shadows in a graveyard forever. We can not live each in their own little exile. We need to find our ambitions again, Harry, and in your sorting I see a portent of recovery".
"You mean..."
"Yes. I believe that you are not going to be the lone Slytherin for long. Like flowers in spring, a new generation of ambitious and driven will rise and your House will grow once again. Perhaps not the next year, but certainly while you are still in Hogwarts. Until then-"
Dumbledore reaches under his table and produces a rather large bag - full of letters and packages, as far as Harry could reckon.
"What's this, sir?"
"Your Sorting into Slytherin made some waves, Harry," the old man pats the bag "I did not wish to disturb you with sudden influx of mail and it was my duty to ensure that nothing harmful was being sent your way. But quite a few former Slytherins have taken notice and wish to send their regards to the new blood, so to speak".
"All of this is for me?" the boy asks somewhat incredulously. While he knows there had to be quite a few adult wizards who were in Slytherin at some point, their existence is an abstract, like some two-hundred-twenty-first Goblin rebellion Binns would drone about. The letters and packages, on the other hand, are palpable and real.
"Well, the Hat did promise you an opportunity to make friends, did it not?"
**** FIRST YEAR: Manners Maketh Man ****
Harry is not much for manners - his education in that regard is rather lacking, courtesy of Dursleys. But the letters and gifts of his... peers would be the right word, he supposed... do leave him with an air of inadequacy. Things are expected of him, both in Hogwarts and beyond. And unlike other first-years, there are no older students in the castle to explain and set example.
But the House's dignity does come up an awful lot in the letters. As it turns out, manners are important, so Harry picks up a subject beyond regular curriculum. Fortunately, there are books on the matter - some sent to him, others taken from the library. He is sure he is going to make an ass of himself on many an occasion, but even that is preferable to living like some kind of rare animal at the zoo for others to gawk at.
So he digs in, holds his chin high and his back straight. He ignores the mutterings and focuses on task. He tries to reign in his temper when the pressure gets to him, holding good manners as his shield. He reserved his respect - and contempt - for those who have eared it. He can't be Hermione - nor does he want to - but he learns to appreciate that without Dudley, he is actually allowed to do well.
When Harry asks for his Snape's assistance in the "House matter", Potion Master's facial expression is hilarious.
But never again does Harry sit at the table facing the wall in a feeble attempt to shield himself from a hundred prying eyes, wolfing down what he can before beating a hasty retreat. Facing the Hall on the other side of his table, he forces himself to carefully put away the bag, properly cut the food and enjoy his meals with a modicum of decorum. The others want to look? Perhaps some of his newly found skills will rub off on them.
He makes no hopes for Ron though. Ron is his friend, but what he does at the table is disgusting and should be illegal.
**** FIRST YEAR: the Broom ****
Oliver Wood is insane.
Harry is content enough not to be expelled over that stupid story with Malfoy during Flying lesson. Yes, he likes flying. Yes, he is made aware of the fact that there is an entire sport which involves flying, practiced in this very school. Yes, he is a little bit disappointed that Slytherin is unlikely to have an actual Quidditch team in his time at Hogwarts. He thinks it might have been fun to try his hand at that whole thing. But quite frankly he has so much on his plate at the moment, he can't bring himself to care. Flying lessons are good enough for him.
Of course, as already established, Oliver Wood, a burly Gryffindor fifth-year student and their Quidditch team captain, is absolutely insane.
Oliver Wood has an incredible idea (or so he thinks, like madmen usually do) and he'll see it through. Never mind that the idea revolves around one Harry Potter (a Slytherin not too keen on it), one Minerva McGonagall (who has all sorts of reservations about it), one Severus Snape (who is bound to object simply by the virtue of being Snape). And Headmaster Dumbledore, of course, since he is the only one who can make the call if others finally budge.
But for a guy who gets hit by heavy flying balls on the regular, Oliver Wood is surprisingly eloquent when he wants to be, every objection thrown his way deflected and turned on its head.
Yes, Harry Potter has no broom of his own. One will have to be provided for him by the school. It's only proper, given his circumstances.
Yes, Harry Potter is a Slytherin. And as a lone student in his House, Harry is unjustly deprived of an opportunity to hone his flying and build solid credentials for his future career. Career in Quidditch, don't ask silly questions.
Yes, Slytherin might grow enough in the future to build its own team. Which would make it especially unfair for them seeing how they have lost their Quidditch tradition entirely. A future Slytherin team will have to have at least one experienced player to even train, let alone be competitive. Of course Oliver Wood is concerned about good sportsmanship of rival teams, always has been.
Yes, Harry Potter is a first year boy, technically barred from Quidditch. But since he is the most likely candidate to become a nucleus for the future Slytherin team, it is all the more important that he starts training early. Quidditch team is the heart and soul of every House, it would be vital for Slytherin morale. Yes, Oliver Wood is also concerned about good spirits of not-yet enrolled students from another House.
And yes, Wood knows when to fold, so when Snape demands every written record to be adjusted to reflect Slytherin's participation in Gryffindor team and its achievements, Oliver swallows that one like a hot pie - with smile on his lips and tear in his eye.
Then Harry begins training with Gryffindor team and Oliver's insanity becomes even more apparent, but he can only think of one question.
Why isn't Oliver Wood in Slytherin?
**** FIRST YEAR: the House Points ****
If there is any consolation to be had, it's the fact that there is absolutely no one to pester him about lost points in the dungeon. And sure, Snape makes all appropriate critical noises and Harry makes all appropriate contrite faces... but not even Snape is unfair enough to expect Harry to win the House Cup all by his lonesome.
**** FIRST YEAR: a Witty Repartee ****
Harry is the first person to admit that he is not the smartest person in Hogwarts. There is an expectation for him to be cunning and wise as a Slytherin, but he is eleven years old, he can't be like Dumbledore. He can't even be like Snape - or like Snape at his less Snape-y moments, at least. But slow learner Harry may be, he eventually figures out a bottomless source of entertainment at Malfoy's expense.
Malfoy is jealous. Not of his Boy-who-lived status - that blond head is big enough to think that no celebrity can rival Malfoy name - but of Potter being sorted into Slytherin. Harry checks the records, Draco's father was in Slytherin, as so was his grandfather. Draco may hide his outrage and humiliation - sometimes well, sometimes less so - but he just can't let go of it and Harry has no qualms about pouring salt on that wound whatsoever.
"Spoken like a true Hufflepuff".
"Very witty... for a Hufflepuff".
"Awww, Honored Helga would be so proud".
And sure, Hufflepuffs make not like the implication very much, but he doesn't have any friends in Hufflepuff, does he?