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Chapter Text

Harry’s heart thumped like a drum in his ears, whacking right off the base of his skull. His chest tightened as the minutes rolled by, his patience quickly wearing thin the longer he waited here. He was acutely aware of the blood rushing to his face, and he silently hoped his face wasn’t going bright red, at the worst possible time. 

He currently stood outside the great hall behind the large double doors, a few feet away from Filch and his cat, both of whom were grinning at him, clearly pleased with the predicament Harry had somehow found himself in.

Harry pointedly kept his eyes on the doors and waited for them to open in front of him, refusing to even acknowledge Filch, or his cat. He didn’t know how long he’d be able to stand it, the longer he stood there in silence. And if he turned around to glimpse Filch and Mrs. Norris, he was sure it’d only make the situation worse. 

Harry breathed out a shaky, quiet breath — which sounded way louder while he was surrounded by the empty, echoing halls of Hogwarts — and began fiddling with the rim of his sleeve. All the while, a barrage of questions ran through his mind like a wildfire, all consisting of things like ‘Why me?’, ‘How could they have let this happen?’, ‘When are these stupid doors going to open?’ The silence of the corridors was almost deafening, the only noise being Mrs. Norris’ occasional meows. 

Every so often, the tightening in his chest would fade, his heart would slow just slightly, providing him a very fugacious second of relief. In those very brief moments, it was as if his heart had disappeared from his chest entirely, leaving him hollow, yet completely free of the shackles his heart held him in, encouraging his brain to think up all sorts of scenarios, none of which favoured him in the slightest.

The ringing silence was overcome in an instant by muffled cheers and claps coming from inside the great hall, which could only mean one thing; the sorting ceremony was over. Moments from now, he would have to brave his current predicament head on, under the watchful, scrutinising gaze of the students and professors. 

Harry took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, at least trying to maintain some level of composure before he faced the rest of the school. His uneasiness hurtled back after him and his chest constricted again, his heart and his mind locked in shackles once more. The blood rushed to his face, and it tingled copiously, like little needles being jabbed into his skin over and over and over again.

Before long, the double doors to the great hall opened with a creak, and revealed Harry standing there like a lone statue. Everybody sat inside the hall, turning their heads towards him, eagerly awaiting Harry’s movement. 

Harry gulped and took a shaky step forward. Then another… He was unable to shake the weight of having everyone’s eyes on him. Especially considering, most of them had nothing but bad and misguided opinions of him. 'Thanks, Rita.' Harry thought. 

Continuing until he reached the end of the hall and stood on the platform. Eyes on him, watching, waiting, wondering… It felt like being poked in the back of the neck by a particularly irritating person who doesn’t know the meaning of ‘personal space.’

Professor McGonagall smiled politely. Although, she was obviously feeling just as tense and shackled as Harry was right now. She gestured to him with her hand to take a seat on the stool. He sauntered over in silence to the stool and sat down, refusing to acknowledge the fact that he had to stand on his toes slightly just to sit down on it. 

Professor McGonagall held the sorting hat in her hand by the tip, gently and warily placing it upon Harry’s head. 

There was a beat of silence, and then the hat’s gruff voice exclaimed for all in the hall to hear clearly. McGonagall flinched and quickly moved her hand away from the hat, while Harry looked up, only able to see the darkness the rim of the hat provided.

“Back again, I see.” The hat spoke, and chuckled deviously in Harry’s head.

“Seems that way.” Harry replied, trying to sound nonchalant with the hat. The hat chuckled again, amused by Harry’s feeble attempt at indifference.

“I have seen many things in Hogwarts, Harry, but never this. A resorting ? …That is a first. But I remember your last sorting, so I cannot say I am surprised.”

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the hat’s words, knowing it would only look weird for everyone else to see him rolling his eyes at the hat. But he didn’t need another reason for people to think he’s different. And yet, the hat was only reminding him that there is one.

“Can we please just get on with it?” Harry said blankly, clearly not up for whatever games the hat was interested in playing with him. The hat chuckled darkly again, but still otherwise proceeded. 

As the hat spoke, Harry’s shoulders slumped just slightly, the tension leaving them for the first time since he’d arrived in Hogwarts earlier that day. He was grateful to just be getting on with this whole… fiasco. The only thing he wanted right now was for this to be over, and soon. 

“Very well, then… Hm… Such a talented young wizard, and yet… so unsure of yourself. I stand by what I said in your first sorting… You would do very well in Slytherin…” The hat said in an almost sing-song voice.

“No.” Harry said firmly. “I- I… I belong in Gryffindor.” Harry stuttered out. 

Gryffindor may have brought some… questionable moments for him, to say the least. And the Gryffindor students themselves may have taken part in some level of teasing… They didn’t believe him in second year about him not being the Slytherin heir… They didn’t believe him last year when he told everyone he never put his name in that goblet… They don’t believe him now about Voldemort’s return… 

But Gryffindor was and is his first home. He made his first friends in Gryffindor. The first people who ever made him feel wanted or respected, despite their recent behaviour. And Harry was certain that once all this blew over and everyone saw Voldemort’s return for themselves, they’d believe him and apologise. 

“Ah, the uncertainty that writhes within you!” The hat chuckled. “Tell me, Harry. Do you truly believe that?”

Harry didn’t answer, not for a few moments. And that was all the hat needed to hear apparently, for it to make a decision.

“You could find your true friends in Slytherin, your real family… You could experience life without the constant demands and expectations from the world. If you just accept it.” The hat said.

Harry was tempted. Oh so tempted, in fact. To live without the crushing demands and prospects placed on him by the wizarding world. To have friends that wouldn’t turn on him every time his name appeared on the front page of the Daily Prophet.

Try as he might, the hat’s words lured him like a siren’s song. The more Harry pondered over the hat’s words. Got lost in the idea of what Slytherin could give him. It became harder and harder to pull away, as if both houses were playing a game of tug of war, and Harry was the rope.

And right now, Slytherin was on the winning side.

The hat could practically hear the cogs squeaking and rotating in Harry’s head, and chuckled.

“Clock is ticking, Harry… Gryffindor… or Slytherin?” The hat knew exactly what it was doing when it spoke, in that infuriatingly mysterious and playful tone.

“But… my friends in Gryffindor… Ron, Hermione… What if I lose them?” Harry asked worriedly.

“Friends are fleeting, Harry. But alas, in Slytherin, you will find people who truly care for you… Who would go down to hell for you, Harry. People that will never side against you no matter what.” The hat replied. There were another few beats of silence as Harry pondered over his two options, when finally the hat spoke again.

“So, what is your answer? Go back to Gryffindor… Or join Slytherin?”

Harry’s heart thumps even louder in his chest. The whole school is practically gawking at him, and likely wondering what’s taking so long. Looking out from his position and seeing every eye in the school on him was… unnerving to say the very least.

“S- Slytherin,” Harry said hesitantly. “I choose Slytherin…”

The hat paused and smirked, clearly very pleased with his choice.

“Very well, then,” Harry didn’t fail to notice the smugness that accompanied the hat’s words. “SLYTHERIN!!”

The hat’s voice bellowed and echoed throughout the hall, and was followed by an array of gasps and murmurs from the students and teachers alike. 

Hermione and Ron sat at the Gryffindor table, looking quite possibly the most shocked out of everyone. Panic took over their features as they both glanced at each other, and then looked right back at Harry with identical frowns.

Harry stood up from the seat shakily, the chair creaking as he did so, and he handed the hat back to Professor McGonagall. He looked up at her with an uneasy expression on his face, wondering what could possibly be going through her mind right now. 

She cleared her throat to speak, and looked down at Harry. Her expression proved to be just as bewildered as everyone else in the hall. And no doubt, their thoughts were running rampant through her head as well, bouncing around like a ping pong ball.

“Well, Mr. Potter… Safe to say… I don’t think anyone expected this…” She stopped talking, her throat twitching as she tried to speak. But not a single word came out. Merely stutters and words — if you can even call them 'words' — of confusion. 

Dumbledore stood up warily from his seat, looking just as perplexed as everyone else. But he put that aside and raised his voice to the entire hall.

“ SILENCE!!”

His voice rumbled through the hall and the children immediately quit their babbling, all of them looking up at the headmaster with wide eyes, and some of them flinching at the volume of his voice. 

Now that everyone had quietened down, a dropped pin could be heard, much to Dumbledore’s pleasure. Dumbledore swiftly made his way over to Harry and Professor McGonagall, the end of his robe flitting across the floor. 

He stood beside Harry and placed a wrinkly old hand on his shoulder, and spoke loudly, so everyone could hear.

“This is certainly an unexpected turn of events,” There was a moment of complete silence before Dumbledore continued. “However… I believe that whatever the reason the hat thought Slytherin was the best place for Harry… should be respected…”

As Dumbledore spoke to the rest of the school, Harry took a glance at Ron and Hermione. Sure enough, they were both looking at him. Ron with a look of disdain mixed with confusion. Hermione with a look of pity and puzzlement. An all too familiar whirlwind of feelings clenched in his chest the longer he looked at them. Hermione was far too good at giving him that pity this year, and he had a feeling Ron would side with all the others who hated him, once again.

Once Dumbledore finished talking about who knows what -- Harry wasn’t listening towards the end of it -– he gave Harry a gentle nudge on the back towards the Slytherin table. The reality of this situation truly dawned Harry now. He is a Slytherin . He would be spending the next few years of his school life with these people who have tried to fight him, bullied him and his friends…

Harry took a shaky breath and made his way to the Slytherin table. As he took the first steps, he worried his legs might fail him at that moment. With the entire school staring at him, watching him in utter silence as he made his way to the Slytherin table, he felt like he was on the edge of a cliff. But he held on to the edge and took a seat, which, coincidentally, was right beside Draco Malfoy. It was the only empty seat where the 5th year Slytherins sat, and he doubted the younger or older Slytherins would want him there any more than he would. 

Harry quickly scanned his eyes around the table to see the looks on the other Slytherin’s faces. While some looked purely perplexed, others looked thoroughly ecstatic to have him there, some even trying to suppress giggles by covering their mouth. Harry might be able to see their reasoning for it if he was on the other end of the stick himself.

But he was surprised to see that none of them were glaring or scowling at him. That was a change. One he wasn’t sure he liked, to be honest. It was odd after most of them despised him for the last four years.

Back up on the platform, Dumbledore started speaking once more to the school. His voice echoed through the hall, but to Harry, it sounded as if he were listening from deep underwater, and it brought him a sense of peace to feel so far away from all of this. To pretend none of this was happening for a minute, and drown in his state of tranquillity created by his own shock and weariness. Before long, Dumbledore finished speaking and returned to his seat at the head of the teachers table, and Harry’s mind dropped from the clouds and came back to reality.

The air seemed so much colder all of a sudden after his little moment of peace. Harry turned his head back to the table and caught every single one of the Slytherin’s staring at him. His body went stiff and his eyes widened at the sight of it. Should he say something? Or smile? 

He sighed quietly to himself and directed his gaze down at his plate. The food appeared now for the feast and he was only too happy to lop as much as he could on his plate. It probably wasn’t the best idea with all the anxiety he was feeling, but he was too starved not to.

The eyes of the other students were still on him. It felt like he was being poked in the neck and head with needles with their eyes boring into him. He did his best to ignore it, but he wasn’t sure how long he could go with his eyes on his plate.

And luckily, it seemed he didn’t have to. One of the Slytherin’s finally said something rather than just staring.

“Well, this is an unexpected turn of events.” The voice said, chuckling along too.

It was Pansy Parkinson. The girl that had bullied Hermione the most throughout her last four years at Hogwarts. Harry looked up at her, surprised by her comment. Of all the Slytherins, Parkinson was one of them that Harry expected to be livid about all of this. Yet, here she was, laughing about it. He raised an eyebrow and nodded hesitantly.

“You can say that again.” Harry spoke, still hardly believing all of this himself.

Malfoy raised his eyebrows at Harry, but didn’t say anything yet. Harry didn’t really expect him to, nor did he really want him to right now. With everything going on, he didn’t need another person giving him snide comments. He was sure the Gryffindors had a lot to say right now that he just couldn’t hear.

Harry’s mind wandered back to Ron and Hermione. Hermione would probably give him the benefit of the doubt, but Ron… Who could even tell? He had been really supportive of Harry this summer, and now he might just go back to how he was last year during the Triwizard tournament.

Harry sighed, trying to think of other things. There was no good in speculating about the past and unforeseen future.

What would he do once he got to the common room? He’d be surrounded by Slytherin’s constantly and he’d have no protection whatsoever. He doubted Snape would even care if one of them decided to hex him. 

He could just keep to himself, stay away from the others as much as possible. Who knows, maybe they’ll forget he’s even there.

Harry supposed he might have an easier time studying without Ron and Hermione constantly bickering while he sat between them like a child. He might even do well in Divination this year. Although, he supposed that might be more embarrassing than failing it. That class was nothing but hogwash, anyway.

Harry was pulled out of his thoughts like a vacuum sucking in the dust by Theodore Nott.

“So, how does it feel to be a Slytherin, Potter?” He asked sarcastically, grinning a little.

Harry paused and then shrugged.

“Weird, really. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”

Theo chuckled, and so did Parkinson and Zabini. Malfoy suppressed a grin at Harry’s response, which Harry didn’t fail to notice but he chose not to say anything.

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it at some point. Don’t concern yourself.” Theo replied, mirth lacing his words, while the other two nodded along.

“Exactly,” said Zabini. “Besides, the Slytherin green will be a refreshing change from the sickening Gryffindor red, don’t you think?”

Harry frowned a little, slightly offended by that.

“Hey, red’s my favourite colour. The Gryffindor red might be a bit bright, but still.”

Zabini, Nott, Parkinson, and even Malfoy chuckled at that.

“No need to get zesty, Potter, I was just teasing.” Zabini laughed, as did the others. Harry deflated a little and chuckled, nodding.

The rest of the feast felt like an eternity in Harry’s honest opinion. Several Slytherins pestered him with questions, he was freezing for some reason, and no one would take their eyes off of him the whole time. He chanced his luck one time and turned around to look at everyone else, only to see the majority of people glaring at him — Ron included. Hermione looked unsure about whether or not she was angry or upset about him being in Slytherin, and Harry immediately regretted turning around then, turning back to look at his plate again, which was becoming clearer and clearer as he continued to eat.

Once the feast was over, Harry stood up with the Slytherin’s. Malfoy, now Slytherin’s prefect, went to the head of the table for everyone to follow him.

A realisation hit Harry then, that Malfoy was the prefect, and therefore could dish him an endless amount of detentions if he wanted to. And he doubted anyone, perhaps maybe Zabini and Nott, would even care. They’d probably just laugh and encourage Malfoy.

Everyone began to move in the direction of the doors. It took a few minutes for Harry to even get close to them with all the other students there, but he supposed that might have been better. He tried to look over the sea of people to find Ron and Hermione, but he couldn’t get a good look anywhere with everyone barging into him.

They’re prefects too this year, Harry remembered. They’d have been the first ones to leave so they could lead the Gryffindors back to the dorms. Harry sighed and just turned his attention back to the Slytherins as they finally reached the doors to leave.

The entire walk to the Slytherin common room was uneventful, aside from the glances directed at him by the students. But that was pretty common at this point, Harry reasoned. Harry thought back to his second year when he came down here with Ron, disguised as Crabbe and Goyle. Their escapade down here proved to be rather useless, but it did give him a chance to see the Slytherin common room.

Now, he’d be seeing the Slytherin common room every day, a fact that Harry was yet to accept. It was far too surreal for him to even think about, never mind make peace with.

Malfoy stood in front of the door and said the password, ‘Serpens carcere.’ The door opened with a loud grumble and revealed the common room. The first years were in awe, and the older students looked on with pride. A few Slytherins glanced at Harry to see his reaction, and Harry realised that he should probably look surprised. He pulled his best ‘shocked-and-trying-to-hide-it’ face, silently praying the others wouldn’t catch on to anything.

His face seemed to pass quite well, the other Slytherins smirking at his reaction. He sighed quietly in relief and followed Malfoy and the others inside the common room. Malfoy and Parkinson went to the centre of the room while everyone took a seat on the black couches, the first years just managing to squeeze on, and the older students taking a seat on the arms of the couch or the table, and some of them choosing to stand instead of trying to squeeze on with everyone.

“First years… Professor Snape will be along shortly to check that you’re all settled in. While it’s just us, we have been advised to lay out the rules in Slytherin house,” Parkinson said. “These rules are to be followed at all times, with no exception. Any breach of these rules could result in losing house points, detention, or even expulsion if it’s warranted. Is that understood?”

Harry’s eyes widened slightly at Parkinson’s words. He hadn’t expected her to be so strict about the rules in Slytherin. The first year’s nodded and said ‘yes’ to Parkinson. She nodded firmly and then turned to Malfoy, who pulled a piece of folded parchment out of his robe pocket.

Malfoy unfolded the parchment and then began to read aloud the list of rules to the first years.

“Rule number one: Every Slytherin, if at any point, you are struggling with classes, homework — anything… is to come straight to either me or Pansy, or should ask another student or a teacher for help. There will be no exception.” Malfoy said firmly, looking up from the parchment at the first years with every couple of words.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows slightly as Malfoy recited the first rule on the parchment. It suddenly dawned on him that that rule might not apply to him. There was plenty of malevolence between Harry and the Slytherins. Who’s to say any of them would even want to help him if he asked?

While Malfoy continued listing the rules, Harry glanced around at the other Slytherins. They were all looking up at Malfoy, listening intently as he spoke. Harry wasn’t listening so much, Malfoy’s voice becoming a mere murmur in the back of his head as he went on.

Harry’s vision seemed to blur as he zoned out. The room started to feel like nothing more than a daydream. As if he wasn’t really there. He blinked a few times to get his vision back, but his attempts were futile. He silently panicked as he knew instantly what was happening. A rippling shiver shot right down Harry’s spine, sending goosebumps all over his body.

‘No, no, please. Please not now,’ Harry pleaded in his head.

Balling his right hand into a fist, he dug his thumbnail into the side of his index finger as hard as he could to distract himself. When it didn’t work, all he did was dig his nail further into his finger, hoping the pain would knock him out of this stupor.

“…and no one is allowed to walk the halls without another student. Especially Potter.” Malfoy finished.

In an instant, Harry’s vision returned and the shivers dissipated as fast as they had appeared. His stupor subsided at the mention of his name, and he looked at Malfoy and frowned, realising he hadn’t heard a word of what he was saying.

“Uh, what?” Harry asked, confused.

“You’re not leaving here unless you’ve got another student or a teacher with you,” Malfoy repeated. “Like it or not, you’re a Slytherin now. Which means our rules apply to you -- especially this one.”

Harry’s frown deepened, unsure of why he’d need a chaperone.

Did everyone plan on treating him like a child this year? First, Ron, Hermione and the others refuse to tell him anything because ‘he’s just a boy.’ Even though he had fought Voldemort a couple of months ago, witnessed Cedric's death and survived the whole thing. Now, the Slytherins of all people were planning on following him everywhere because of… wait… what?

What does he need a babysitter for? He thought, mostly to himself.

“I can look after myself. I don’t need any babysitters.” Harry said.

Malfoy looked slightly affronted by Harry referring to them as ‘babysitters.’

“It is not babysi-” Before Malfoy finished his sentence, which had started off in his usual pompous tone that Harry was used to, Zabini interrupted, clearly foreseeing the direction this was heading.

“Even if that’s true, Potter. You’ll still need to have a student with you outside of the common room. After the stuff the Daily Prophet wrote about you, and now this…” Zabini trailed off. Nott spoke in his place, completing his point for him.

“People are angry. You need us watching your back.” He finished. Zabini smiled slightly in thanks at Nott, who nodded in response.

Harry stared at them in bewilderment. He blinked profusely and cleared his throat, turning his head back ‘round to Malfoy. He paused for a minute, the words of whatever he was going to say stuck in his throat. Speaking, he stuttered slightly, cleared his throat again, and then went to speak properly.

“I- I appreciate that, guys… But I really don’t need anyone watching my back.” Harry said hesitantly.

He couldn’t quite believe that the Slytherins , of all people, were being nice to him. After years of animosity and glaring at each other from the tables at feasts, they were suddenly acting nice to him.

“Tough, Potter,” Malfoy said. “There are plenty of us here that can look after ourselves, but it never hurts to have people there.”

Harry slowly nodded, agreeing. True, it was never a bad thing to have people looking out for you, but the Gryffindors turned on him before. And this was Slytherin, the house that was filled with people who hated him. The thought of putting any trust in them to watch out for him didn’t make him feel safe in any way, regardless of their reassurances.

However, despite his objection to this, Harry knew they wouldn’t give in, so he resigned himself and sighed, nodding.

“Alright then, fine,” He said, sounding a little bit dejected.

There was snort from beside him, from Nott, who watched Harry with amusement.

“Try to sound a bit less miserable about that, Potter.” He said, grinning. A few of the other Slytherins chuckled along, but Harry rolled his eyes in amusement. Parkinson then spoke up, her voice firm and demanding.

“So, do you all understand the rules, then? Potter?” She asked, adding ‘Potter’ on as an afterthought, it seemed, just to make sure he wasn’t going to try and break any of the aforementioned rules.

The first year’s and Harry all nodded and replied with a chorus of ‘yes.’ Parkinson nodded firmly, clearly satisfied, but she was sending wary looks in Harry’s direction. Harry glanced up and noticed her wariness, but avoided saying anything in case he made it worse.

Now that Malfoy and Parkinson had finished with the rules for Slytherin, Professor Snape entered the common room and sauntered in, his cloak billowing behind him. His face was blank and dull as usual, but there was obviously something important he had to say.

He stopped a few feet away from Malfoy and Parkinson and spoke, his voice dull and his words slow.

“Thank you, Malfoy. Parkinson,” He said, turning his head to look at them. He then turned his head back to everyone on the couches. “The rest of you go to your dormitories immediately. All of you except for Potter, Malfoy and Parkinson.”

All of the students glanced at each other warily before standing up. They stood slowly, as if unsure of whether or not they were actually supposed to go. The older Slytherins led the first years to two sets of dark grey staircases that led to the dormitories. There were two staircases — one going down, one going up. All the boys went upstairs to their dorm, while the girls went downstairs to theirs.

Once everyone had left, bar Harry, Parkinson and Malfoy, Snape turned straight to Harry with a stern look on his usual stone cold,  hard face.

“Potter. A word in private.” He said coldly. Without waiting for a response from Harry, Snape went over to a corner near the common room entrance and stopped. Harry then stood up nervously from his seat on the couch and walked over to Snape. Parkinson and Malfoy both glanced at each other with knowing expressions.

Harry stopped in front of Snape, looking up at him. There was an awkward moment of silence — for Harry — before Snape spoke.

“I don’t know what that hat was thinking when it put you here, Potter. But the fact is, you are here now whether we like it or not,” Snape said.

Harry looked down, then back up as Snape continued. Harry’s shoulders tensed as Snape continued, knowing that Snape was less than pleased at him being in Slytherin.

“...and as such, you are to obey every rule in this house. Don’t think I don’t know about your penchant for causing problems everywhere you go. It will not be tolerated here.” He said firmly.

There was another pause, and then Harry nodded shakily while still looking up at Snape. Harry wasn’t sure what was going on in his own head right now, but it seemed like every thought of his had disappeared and his brain was left a hollow shell. Snape continued, Harry nodded, and occasionally added a ‘yes, sir’ to mix things up and show he was actually listening.

“...I want you to tell me exactly what that hat said to you, Potter. Why were you put here?” Snape asked.

Harry’s eyes widened at the question, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. He stuttered at first, before answering timidly.

“Uh, it- it said that… that it stands by what it said at my first sorting. That I would do well in Slytherin. It didn’t say why exactly, but that’s what it believes.”

Snape looked dubiously at Harry, clearly not fully believing Harry’s explanation. But at the same time, he really couldn’t think of a reason why the hat would want Harry in Slytherin. So, he had no choice but to believe the truth in Harry’s words, however much he hated it.

“The hat told you in your very first sorting… that you would do well in Slytherin?” Snape asked.

Harry nodded again, feeling more than scrutinised at the professor’s cold gaze on him.

“Yeah… It gave me two choices; Gryffindor or Slytherin. I chose Gryffindor then…” Harry added on, not sure if he should keep talking or not. “This time, I chose Slytherin… I guess the hat was pretty persuasive this year.”

Snape stood very still, completely statue-like. Internally, he was conflicted. On one hand, he believed what Potter was saying. There was nothing else for him to believe, after all, however much he resented that fact. But Potter as a Slytherin didn’t make sense to him.

People grow and mature as they get older, but their true nature never changes. If the hat said that he would do well in Slytherin in first year, and this time the hat placed him in Slytherin, then it could only be a fact. And truthfully, given that the Gryffindors spent a lot of their time changing their minds about Potter — hating him one minute, adoring him the next — it was quite obvious why Harry chose Slytherin over Gryffindor this time, even if Snape couldn’t quite understand why Harry would do well in Slytherin.

Snape sighed, resigning himself.

“Very well, then, Potter,” Snape said, much to Harry’s surprise and relief. “Go wait over there,” He nodded his head to the couch. “I need to have a word with the prefects.”

Harry wasted no time and went straight back to the couch to stand, letting out a relieved sigh. ‘Thank Merlin,’ Harry thought to himself.

Harry glanced once more around the room before he spotted Malfoy and Parkinson both walking over to Snape.

“Professor,” They both said softly as they approached him.

“Malfoy… Potter will be sharing a dorm with you and Zabini, so I want you to lead him there,”

“Of course, sir,” Malfoy said, nodding.

Snape nodded and pursed his lips slightly, taking a deep breath.

“I don’t think I have to tell you that Potter has a certain…habit of causing trouble,” Snape said, sneering. “But the rules stand. Do not hesitate to give him detention when he causes problems.”

“Of course, professor.” Parkinson and Malfoy both said softly, knowing full well how true that was. They had both been witness to Harry’s tactless behaviour in the past, and they knew dealing with it now for themselves was going to be challenging for them.

“I understand perfectly the resentment many of you have for Potter, but the rules do not change. He is to be accompanied by another Slytherin at all times outside of this room no matter what.”

Malfoy and Parkinson nodded firmly in agreement. While neither of them were… pleased at having to accompany Potter around, they knew it was the only option. With practically everyone against Harry now, he’d never be safe walking around Hogwarts alone. And regardless of their feelings, they never caused fights with their own, especially outside of the common room.

“Of course, sir,” Malfoy said. “We’ve made that clear to him already.”

“Good. With Potter’s name being dragged through the mud in the Daily Prophet and his resorting into Slytherin, he will be a target to many people. Make sure he keeps out of trouble.” Snape finished sternly.

Malfoy and Parkinson both nodded again, replying with ‘of course, sir’ too. Once the conversation was over, Snape left, sneaking one last glare at Harry as he did so. The common room door slid shut behind him with a grumble and then Parkinson and Malfoy both approached Harry, who was leaning against the arm of the couch, watching as the door slid shut.

“Come on, Potter,” Malfoy said as he approached him. “You’re sharing with me and Zabini.”

Harry stood up straight and nodded reluctantly, not saying a word to Malfoy or Parkinson. He’d be sharing a dorm with Malfoy, of all people. MALFOY.

Harry sighed weakly and rubbed the back of his neck. How did this happen to him? He kept thinking to himself. In a single day, he got resorted into the most hated house at Hogwarts. Turned the whole school — including his own friends — against him even more, and he was going to be sharing a dorm with Draco bloody Malfoy and Blaise Zabini for the next two years.

‘Just my luck, isn’t it?’ Harry thought.

Parkinson and Malfoy said their goodnight’s before they parted ways for bed. Harry kept quiet for it, not sure if he was on a goodnight basis with them yet, honestly. Once Parkinson said goodnight to Malfoy, she shot Harry a forced smile before quickly and anxiously making her way down the stairs into the girls’ dormitory.

Without another word, Malfoy turned around and began leading Harry upstairs to the boys dormitory, while Harry rushed to keep up with him on the stairs.

They reached the top of the stairs and turned a tight corner into a hall, with doors all along it. Malfoy and Harry walked side by side in silence until they reached the fifth year section of the hall. They stopped at the very first door in that section. A tall, but narrow mahogany brown door, which had last names pinned to it in black wood.

Harry’s heart sank slightly at the notice of his own last name pinned on the door, right at the bottom of the others.

‘Malfoy’

‘Zabini’

‘Potter’

Malfoy cast a slightly nervous glance at Harry once they reached the door, and turned to him, speaking lowly, despite the corridor being empty aside from those two.

“Listen, Potter,” He began, pausing as he collected his thoughts over this whole situation. Harry turned his head to face him, looking at him uncomfortably. “You know these next few days are gonna be uncomfortable, to say the least. There’s a lot of resentment between us. A lot of tension to even out before we can even begin to get used to this… predicament,”

Harry nodded along at Malfoy's words, agreeing whole-heartedly, even if he’d rather smell Dudley’s socks than admit it to his face. He silently sighed of relief, though, glad that their fighting would at least be kept to a minimum now that Harry was in Slytherin and sharing a dorm with him. Malfoy continued talking, and Harry listened intently, nodding along every now and then.

“Either way, it’s more hassle than it’s worth to get caught up in fights while you’re staying here. When you were talking to Snape, I spoke to Pansy about it and she agreed, so… you can be sure that you’re not going to be hexed at any point while you’re here.”

Harry nodded, giving Malfoy a weak smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. He was grateful for that. Really. With the rest of the school demonising him, it was reassuring to know that he at least wouldn’t have to watch out for any Slytherins hexing him when he least expected it. But Harry still made a silent promise to himself to watch his back and keep to himself as much as possible. Years of resentment don't disappear overnight, or ever, in some cases.

Voldemort was a perfect example of that, actually, he realised.

With Voldemort and Death Eaters after him, who just so happened to be the parents of several children in Slytherin house, he’d be stupid to trust them so blindly. Even if Malfoy meant what he said, they were still on opposing sides, and that couldn’t just be ignored. Eventually, they’d all have to decide where they stand, and most of them were with Voldemort through and through already.

“I don’t expect you to believe me when I say that… and I get it…” Malfoy paused, the words disappearing off the tip of his tongue. Harry sighed and nodded, bringing his hand down from his neck and fiddling with the hem of his sleeve instead.

“I suppose it’ll take me a while to really believe that… but, I appreciate it either way.” Harry said nervously, hoping that would suffice for now. He didn’t want to outright tell him that he didn’t want to trust the children of Death Eaters to watch his back or refrain from hexing him, and this was the best he had.

Malfoy seemed to get it though, and he nodded his head in understanding.

“I get that… Anyway, I suppose we should go in now, before Blaise starts searching for us.” Malfoy said, quickly trying to drift away from the subject. Harry was grateful for that. Harry nodded and agreed, and Malfoy opened the door, letting Harry in first.

Harry was amazed by the dorm, honestly. The walls were painted dark green and had wall sconce candleholders along it — two at the side of each bed, right by the headboards, of which there were three. Every candle was lit and burning away, heating up the room perfectly. ‘Probably enchanted,’ Harry thought.

The room itself was rectangular, as opposed to a circle in Gryffindor. Two of the beds were positioned across from each other against the wall, while the third was at the end of the room against that wall. The way they were positioned, it was a bit of a wonky semi-circle, the bed at the right wall being slightly squinty.

Zabini was sitting on his bed. His legs were crossed in a basket and his elbow was propped on his knee as he read a book lying open in front of him. At the sound of their entry, he looked up from his book and immediately grinned when he saw Harry.

“Ah, so the door wasn’t lying, Potter. You really are sharing with us,” Zabini said enthusiastically. He unfolded his legs and swung them over the side of his bed, stood up, and sauntered over to Harry and Draco.

Harry chuckled slightly, refraining from rubbing the back of his neck.

“Seems so, Zabini,” Harry said ambivalently. “Uh, where’s the bathroom? I kinda need to get ready for bed.”

Malfoy had walked away from the two of them, went over to his own bed, and started unpacking his trunk. Zabini let Harry grab some pyjamas and a toothbrush, and led him out of the dorm and down the hall to the fifth years’ bathroom, which was empty, thankfully.

Zabini left the bathroom with a quick ‘goodbye’ and a ‘don’t take too long’ before he went back to the dorm, leaving Harry to get changed. 

Harry went into a stall, locking the door behind him to put his pyjamas on and do his business. After he finished, he gathered his uniform and shoes in a pile in his arms and unlocked the stall door, leaving and making his way over to a sink. He chucked the pile of clothes on the floor beside his feet and grabbed a tube of toothpaste at the sink to brush his teeth.

Once Harry had finished with the necessary ‘before-bed’ routine, he quickly dried his face with a towel so he could get his stuff and go to bed. He leaned down to pick up his clothes, but felt a sudden spasm run up his spine.

With a gasp, he stood up straight, forgetting his clothes momentarily, and putting a hand on his lower back. His body remained trembling slightly from the shock of the spasm, and his breath quickened as his heart began to race.

‘No, no. Not again…’ Harry thought to himself in a panic. Instantly, a cold breeze filled the bathroom, rattling the stall doors. Harry’s breathing picked up more, and his stomach trembled like a guitar string.

“Go away… Go away…” Harry rambled softly, shutting his eyes and hoping that the darkness would somehow shield him from what was there.

But a quiet, gravelly, infernal voice spoke as if from nowhere. But the voice came from Harry’s very own mouth.

“Look at me, Harry…” It said, and Harry turned away from the mirror, keeping his eyes tightly closed, shaking his head frantically.

“No, no… I won’t…” Harry said weakly.

“Look at me!” The voice exclaimed, through Harry’s mouth again. 

At the voice, Harry felt a cold shiver run down his spine, and as if the blood was being sucked out of his face, leaving him nothing but a hollow shell. His eyes shot open, and he turned around to the mirror without any reluctance, finding himself physically unable to disobey the voice’s command no matter how much he wanted to.

His reflection stared back mockingly at him, watching as the actual Harry teared up in front of the mirror and his skin drained and drained until he became a ghostly blue. Harry panted, and watched his reflection in the mirror as it changed.

His green eyes slowly diminished into nothing but black voids, no light or colour to be seen. Harry shook his head and aggressively rubbed his eyes, but to no avail. Everytime he looked back at the mirror, his reflection was different than before.

The voice spoke again through Harry.

“Good, Harry… Do not look away.” It said sternly, in that same gruff, and almost demonic, voice.

Harry looked at the mirror in confusion, all the same sensations continuing to run around in his body.

“Wh- what are you doing?”

The voice chuckled darkly before it answered, and Harry could feel his own vocal cords vibrating from it.

“Harry… I simply want to help.” The voice said, it’s voice softening very slightly. Harry frowned even more than before. ‘Help?!’

“H- help? Are you stupid or something?” Harry asked in annoyance, to which the voice just chuckled again.

Harry groaned and panted more, the sensations and his complete lack of control over this right now becoming too overwhelming and frustrating.

“Just tell me what you want!” Harry exclaimed, silently praying that the other Slytherins wouldn’t hear him from their dorms. Although, the bathroom was a little ways down the hall from any dormitories, and rather too big to hear much from outside of it.

The voice merely chuckled again, only frustrating Harry even more. He gripped the sides of the sink and squeezed them tightly, until the whites of his knuckles were showing and his hands were trembling.

“I’m really here to help you, Harry. But I need you to let me.” The voice spoke softly, almost pleadingly at Harry. Harry’s frustration faded a little bit as he ascertained the idea that the voice — whoever it belonged to — was actually telling the truth.

Harry shook his head again and blinked frantically as his vision started to cloud over and his eyes burned.

“No. No. How could you possibly help me? Who are you?” Harry asked.

The voice sighed and began to talk in a rush, clearly trying to get this whole ordeal over with now. Harry wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t have any time to ask before the voice continued and left him no room to speak.

“Harry, listen to me carefully. Everything that’s been happening at Hogwarts. Last year in the graveyard, Voldemort’s return, and now the upcoming war… I can help you through it. I don’t have time now, but I need you to heed these words, Harry. Will you heed these words?” The voice asked quickly.

Harry’s breath shook as he stammered and tried to work up an answer. Without much consideration, he nodded his head.

“O- okay, I will.” He replied finally.

“Good. I need to go, but I will return.” It said with clear relief in its voice.

“But-” The voice was gone. 

Harry felt as if he was being sucked up into a vacuum as everything, even time itself, seemed to pause, before it all went back to normal. Harry looked back at himself in the mirror — his green eyes as opposed to black, his regularly pale skin instead of the ghostly kind, and the stalls behind him which had stopped rattling.

The room went completely silent — almost deafeningly so after that — and Harry glanced around him warily, knowing that nobody had seen, but wanting to make sure anyway.

‘Help me?’ He thought. Could he honestly believe that? After everyone that had claimed to be helping him had decided that leaving him in the dark, completely out of the loop, was the best way to protect him. And how could he possibly trust someone who could speak to him, through him?

That voice… It sounded so honest and sincere that Harry couldn’t help but be swayed, even slightly, by its words. And even after that entire ordeal, Harry couldn’t find it in himself to be afraid of it — afraid of trusting it, that is.

Harry exhaled sharply and looked back at his reflection, trying to find some resemblance between himself and… whatever had taken over him. He imagined the black eyes and the deathly pale skin on him again, and it was all too easy for him to see it.

He had a lot to think about. He bent down and got his stuff, leaving to go straight back to his dorm. When he arrived, he went to bed and didn’t speak a word of what had happened, much to Malfoy and Zabini’s confusion.