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Chapter Text

Harry Potter sat in the bustling main hall, his leg bouncing with restless energy. It was a new dawn at Hogwarts, following the summer that had shattered everything he once knew. The war was over, and he thought his days as a student were behind him—until a letter arrived, summoning him back to the very place where he had lost so much. What the letter hadn’t revealed was that all returning students would be subjected to a new sorting into houses. The notion sent a wave of anxiety through him—had he truly changed from the boy who had once sworn off Slytherin?

As the younger  students filed out, Harry steeled himself for what lay ahead. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation as Luna was sorted into Gryffindor and Hermione into Ravenclaw. Then came his turn. With a confident smile, he strode toward the enchanted hat, feeling its familiar weight settle on his head. Here we go again.

"Well, Harry, we meet again," the Hat quipped, its voice dripping with mischief. Harry rolled his eyes and asked to skip the small talk. The Hat chuckled, launching straight into the heart of the matter.

“You’ve turned away from Slytherin before. Are you ready to embrace it this time?" it mused, making Harry pause. The idea of plunging into something unfamiliar was surprisingly exhilarating. He’d always thrived on a bit of drama.

“No,” he declared with fearless determination. “Just place me where I belong.” The Hat hesitated, and then bellowed, “Slytherin!” Gasps rippled through the hall, electric and provocative. A smirk spread across Harry's face as he sauntered over to the green-and-black table, where he found himself sitting beside none other than Draco Malfoy. The air was thick with tension, broken only by the occasional perplexed whisper of “What the hell?”

As McGonagall dismissed them, Harry couldn’t shake the thrill of walking away without Hermione or Ron for the first time. A rush of independence surged through him. Whistling a catchy Muggle tune, he walked with hands tucked into his robe pockets, until Draco Malfoy, now more striking and imposing than ever, stormed up beside him.

Before Harry could process it, Malfoy slammed him into an empty cupboard, pinning him against the wall with a wand pressed menacingly to his throat. Surprised but unfazed, Harry merely met Draco’s fiery gaze.

“Why were you sorted into Slytherin?” Draco demanded, his grey eyes ablaze with fury.

“Probably because the Hat’s bonkers!” Harry shot back, the defiance swirling in the air between them. They locked eyes, and in that charged moment, something shifted. Harry’s hands instinctively crept up to Draco’s neck, his heart racing. Those lips were dangerously tempting.

And then it happened. They both leaned in, confusion morphing into reckless abandon as their lips collided in a heated clash of desire. Each second felt elongated as they kissed, the world fading away until Draco pulled back, leaving Harry breathless. Realization dawned on them, and with a wild glance, Draco bolted from the cupboard.

Merlin, this was going to be awkward. But beneath the uncertainty lay an exciting spark that Harry couldn’t ignore.

Chapter Text

Harry burst from the cupboard, each step charged with an electrifying urgency. He darted through the twisting staircases, the weight of haunting memories wrapping around him like a dense fog. As he rushed past the chilling rooms where his friends had met their grim fates, a peculiar numbness gripped him. The only thing breaking through the haze was a distant echo of the kiss. Despite everything that had been stolen from him. With a dark chuckle, he mused whether he felt like a twisted version of Jesus after his brushes with death and resurrection; he couldn’t help but wonder if the Pope might hear of his misadventures.

Shaking off the darkness, he pivoted toward the gardens, craving solitude. Voldemort’s invasion of his mind had made lighthearted banter feel dangerous; who knew what secrets the Dark Lord might eavesdrop on? As he crept past an empty classroom, the silence shattered like glass. A sharp slap followed by muted cries ripped through the air. Instinct kicked in, and Harry's hand moved to draw his wand, trembling over the door handle before he hesitated.

In a flash, he conjured his Invisibility Cloak, slipping under its protective veil. He positioned himself just outside the door, heart racing as he braced for the unfolding drama within. Minutes dragged on painfully until the door creaked open, releasing a surge of rage that ignited in his chest. Ron—how could he betray them?

Horror washed over him as his eyes dropped to the floor. There was Hermione—his unwavering companion, curled in a ball on the ground, tears soaking her cheeks, a bright red handprint marring her skin. The sight twisted his gut into knots. He couldn't just stand there.

With decisive speed, he slipped into the room, timing his entrance perfectly as Ron exited, the door clicking shut behind him. The cloak fell away, and he rushed to her side, concern flooding his voice. “Are you alright?” he asked, heart pounding like a war drum. Hermione shook her head, tears spilling down her face as she collapsed into his embrace.

Each sob ignited a blazing fire within him, fueling his fury. The fight wasn’t over—not by a long shot. He stayed with her until her tears subsided, but somehow, he found himself back in the Slytherin common room. He climbed to his dormitory, and despite the presence of Zabini and Malfoy, he erected silencing and protective charms around his bed. Channeling his anger, his magic surged around him in thick waves as he unleashed his frustration.

After purging his rage and tidying his space, Blaise broke the silence. “You good now?”

Harry laughed, though it felt more like a gut punch than humor. A conversation sparked between them, with Draco remaining silent throughout. He even tried to crack his Jesus Part Two joke! As anticipated, no one laughed. Instead, they suggested he should seek help. Fair enough, he thought, still simmering with anger. Choosing to mull it over tomorrow, he finally let exhaustion take him. Using magic, he changed into his pajamas only when he was certain everyone else was asleep. He didn’t want any weirdos spying on him, alright!