“And he wanted Hufflepuff. But enough about him; it’s you
I’m Sorting. And you’ll do great in-“

“SLYTHERIN!” it announced to the hall.

The hall was silent for what felt the longest five seconds
of Harry Potter’s life. And all at once the Slytherins started cheering and
clapping; with the exception of Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.
Draco was staring at Harry and wasn’t clapping, so the other two also stared at
Harry and didn’t clap.

Slowly, Harry made his way to the table on the second to the
left. He didn’t particularly want to sit next to Crabbe, who was cracking his
knuckles, so he sat opposite Draco instead, next to a boy Harry didn’t
recognize. To avoid looking at Draco, Harry stared at Lisa Turpin (who was
being Sorted) instead.

“RAVENCLAW!” the hat announced, and the table on one side of
Slytherin erupted in claps and cheers. 
Ron became a Gryffindor. He’ll hate me now, thought Harry, as
Blaise Zabini sat down next to him.

“Welcome!” Albus Dumbledore said, making Harry jump.
“Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like
to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank
you!”

And he sat down to cheers and claps. “Is he mad?” Harry said
at large, forgetting he was sitting at a table with people whose parents worked
for the man who killed his. Well, probably.

To his surprise, it was Draco Malfoy who answered him.

“Everyone thinks he’s odd, but he is one of the most powerful wizards alive and
he wouldn’t have achieved that title if he was truly mad. He acts like he is
sometimes, though, like with what he just said.”

Harry nodded, but still didn’t look at him. Instead, he
stared at the mashed potato that had appeared on one of the silver plates in
front of him.

“Look, Potter,” Draco said, and this time Harry lifted his
head to look directly at him. “I think we should forget what happened on the
train. Weasley isn’t going to want to be your friend anymore, and neither is
that Granger girl. You’ll be better off with us, and I don’t think either of us
will survive this year if we don’t talk to each other. We’ll be paired up in
classes at least once.” And with that speech, he held out his hand in front of
him.

Harry took it, grinning slightly. Malfoy was probably right.
Ron had said what he thought about Slytherin house, and Hermione would probably
be terrified. Everyone relaxed after that, and began to eat and talk.

Harry soon found out that Malfoy’s minions didn’t have their
own opinions and copied everything that he did and said. Malfoy himself seemed
to find it annoying. The boy he sat next to was called Theodore Nott, and
seemed quite nice. As nice as Slytherins get, thought Harry. Blaise
Zabini was the other boy, who didn’t say much but did at least seem friendlier
that Crabbe and Goyle. Even after what Malfoy said, they still seemed wary of
Harry and cracked their knuckles more.

EW! Harry was thinking every time they did that. It
was a noise he’d always hated and he found it disgusting.

“Stop doing that!” Malfoy finally said, “It’s annoying
now,”. They just grunted and carried on shovelling food into their mouth. Harry
himself couldn’t eat much. He was quite hungry, but he was just so nervous
about the upcoming year. Malfoy seemed alright, now at least, and so did the
other boys. But what about the rest of the house? Wouldn’t they hate the Boy
Who Lived, after he defeated their parent’s master?

What Harry didn’t know, was that only a few actually had
Death Eater families. Most of them had deserted Voldemort eleven years ago, and
most of them were under the influence of the Imperius Curse and were glad to be
rid of him.

But again, he didn’t know that and he was worried sick. After
he’d eaten two small chicken nuggets and a few carrot slices, the food
disappeared and was replaced by dessert. This was something he’d barely ever
eaten at the Dursley’s, and that was only because Dudley was full (believe it
or not) and so was the bin. And even that had just been a little bit of
chocolate-flavoured yogurt.

Harry suddenly found that he could eat, and cut a slice out
from a treacle tart. I could eat this all year, he thought, but I’d
better not. I’ll get withdrawal symptoms when I’m back with the Dursley’s.  

“What are yours, Potter?” a voice interrupted his thoughts.
Harry looked up; he hadn’t been listening to the conversation for a while.

“I’m sorry?”

“I said,” Draco said,” What are your favourite subjects?”.

Harry blinked.

“I don’t know, really. I’ve been looking at my textbooks and
I think I’ll hate History of Magic”-everyone nodded- “and I think I might like
Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts,”.

“Me too,” said Theodore Nott, “But I think I’ll like Charms
as well,”. Malfoy snorted at that.

“And how,” he said, “Is bewitching objects to fly and birds to appear going to
be useful in life?”.

“Maybe I’ll become a broom designer,” said Nott, grinning,
“Then that first one will come in useful,”.

“Your father,” Malfoy looked at Nott with a deadpan expression, “Works at
Borgin and Burkes bewitching Dark objects to become even Darker and you are
going to follow his example and make Twigger brooms?”

Everyone laughed at that, and though Harry didn’t understand
the joke, he still smiled.

“Maybe you  can help Chudley Cannons win
the league?” Blaise Zabini choked out, and that was the first time he’d spoken,
other than to give his name.

The conversation turned to Quidditch after that, and Harry
tried to join in, but as he’d learned how to play only a few hours ago, it was
hard to keep up.

“Which team do you support, Harry?” said Malfoy.

“I don’t really know, Draco,”  he
replied, “I’ve never played Quidditch before –or even flown- and I don’t know the
names of any teams. Apart from the Chudley Cannons. And I don’t support them;
definitely not,”.

And after that Malfoy became Draco in his thoughts. But he
wasn’t thinking of that now; everyone was staring at him.

“You’ve never flown before?” Nott (who would soon
become Theodore) said.

“I grew up with Muggles,” Harry answered.

“How could you stand it?” said Zabini, wrinkling his nose.

Harry shrugged. “My family were worse than most Muggles. They kept me locked in
a cupboard for half my life,”.

All eyes were on him again.

“They locked the famous Boy Who Lived in a cupboard?”
exclaimed Draco.

“Yep.”

“I’m assuming Dumbledore doesn’t know or he would have killed them.

“Actually,” said Harry (the theory only just came to him), “I think he did
know. He just didn’t care. After all, he knew my aunt hated magic,”.

Suddenly, the food disappeared, and Harry was grateful for
the distraction. Dumbledore stood up again and everyone fell silent. He started
to speak, but Harry was only half listening.

There was something about staying out of a forest, not going
on a third-floor corridor and… that was it. He’d missed the rest. But everyone
was standing up and suddenly they were singing.

“Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please.

Whether we be old and bald,

Or young with scabby knees.

Our heads could do with filling,

With some interesting stuff.

For now they’re bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff.

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we’ve forgot.

Just do your best; we’ll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot.

Harry stood, transfixed, as everyone finished at different
times. Two boys, Ron’s brothers, finished last at a slow pace, with Dumbledore
conducting the last two lines.

“Ah, magic,” Dumbledore said as they finished, “A magic
beyond all we do here! Ah, now, bedtime! Off you trot!”.

“What are we, horses?” Harry muttered, as everyone started
to leave. Draco, who was suddenly beside him, laughed.

Everyone in green was following a tall girl with ginger
hair. A prefect, Harry assumed. They arrived at a wall. Just a wall; no doorway
or anything. The girl muttered something and the wall opened. It was like at
Diagon Alley, the bricks slid aside to reveal a hidden place.

This hidden place was a large room, with staircases leading
off in different directions. Everyone went up all the different staircases, and
Harry wondered if he should follow, until he saw the other first year boys and
five girls he guessed were also in their year. The prefect girl was standing in
front of them, along with a boy with dark hair. The door suddenly opened again,
to reveal a man with shoulder-length black hair. He walked inside, looking at
every single first year. Harry couldn’t be sure, but he thought his gaze stayed
on him a little longer than the rest.

“I am Professor Snape,” the man announced, “I am the head of
Slytherin house, and I am also the Potions master. Normally, I would write and
give a speech, but this year, I have asked our prefects to do this,”. And he
sat down in a green armchair and lifted an arm to the prefects.

“I am Gemma Farley,” the girl began, and I am a sixth-year
prefect.”

“And I’m Marcus Flint,” said the boy, “Also in sixth year,”.

“As the supposedly-evil house,” Gemma Farley continued, “We
have a reputation to uphold. We have had many Dark wizards in our house, but
just as many have come from the other houses. Not Hufflepuff, as much though…
Anyway, what the other houses seem to forget, is that Merlin was also a
Slytherin. He was one of the most famous wizards of all time; even Muggles have
heard of him. So although we have turned out many Dark wizards, we are not a
Dark house as a whole; despite popular belief.”

Marcus Flint took over. “As Slytherins, we have to stick
together. Even if we don’t particularly like someone in our house, we don’t
curse or hex or argue with them in front of the other houses. You’ll just have
to learn to ignore them or learn to be with them for the next seven years.
Another rule we have is at the table in the Great Hall, we have to sit up
straight and show manners. We don’t stick by this rule on the first and
last days of term, but otherwise you have to. And we know how much it kills
your back, but it wasn’t us who created this rule,”.

Now Professor Snape stood up.

“You are expected to keep up with all your classes, and any homework handed in
late, not done or inadequately written will be done again. Your homework in my
class shall be marked as it would in the OWL’s (the tests you take in fifth
year) and I don’t expect anything less than a P, which means Poor. You should
study as well, because you earn points in every class for correct answers,”.

Professor Snape sat down and Farley started talking again.

“The House Cup is awarded to the house at the end of the
year to the house with the most points. Points can be earned through homework,
correct answers in class and Quidditch results along with other miscellaneous
things. Quidditch tryouts are this Saturday, but first years aren’t often in
the house team. Don’t bother attending if you can’t fly properly. And get a
good broom first,”.

“And that’s pretty much it,” said Marcus, “The girls
dormitories are on the left; look for the one that says “First Years” on it,
and boys, the same on your right,”.

Everyone started going up to their respective dormitories,
talking and laughing. Harry was silent though; he walked staring at the floor.
Blaise slowed down and walked next to him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” said Harry, “It’s just- well- I didn’t want to be in Slytherin. I
wanted Gryffindor,”. Next to him Blaise raised his eyebrows.

“Really.”

“Yes. And I don’t know what I think now. Slytherin is awesome, better than I
thought it would be. But I can’t help wondering if I’d have been better in
Gryffindor,”.

“Face it,” said Blaise laughing. “If you’d been in
Gryffindor, you would have had to share a room with Weasley. And you think you
like him- well, before you did- but you would have seriously been annoyed with
him after day two. I’ve met him before at the Ministry of Magic when I went
with my father and he doesn’t shut up about Quidditch. And anyway, if you’d
have been better in Gryffindor, the Hat would have put you there. And he
didn’t,”.

“I guess,” said Harry, “Thanks,”. Blaise just laughed and
ran off.

When Harry entered the dormitory five seconds later, the
other five boys were running around and moving their stuff next to different
beds. He noticed Crabbe sat on one and Draco pushed him off and sat on it
instead. On one side of Draco Theodore and Blaise were wrestling over who got
the bed by the window. Blaise was winning; he had a few pounds on Theodore and
he used that to his advantage. Theodore eventually fell on the floor, where
Blaise laughed at him and made the Loser! sign to him.

Harry took the bed on the end where no one was sitting.
Theodore ended up on the other side of him. In his thoughts, they’d suddenly
switched from last name to first name and he didn’t exactly know when or why it
happened. Malfoy became Draco while they were still eating, but he wasn’t sure
about the others. Oh well, he thought. He didn’t even know why he was
thinking about it.

“Uh, Potter?” said Goyle, which was the first time Harry’d
heard him speak. “You’re stuff’s here,”. Harry walked over to get it. “Thanks,”
he muttered. 

He walked back over to his bed and started to unpack. For
some reason, he liked unpacking. He found it satisfying, just putting
everything away neatly. He reached up to start ordering his books on the
shelves when he wacked his head on them. Harry swore loudly, then stepped
backwards and tripped. Everyone looked over when they heard the bang, and
Crabbe and Goyle smirked nervously at the swearing.

“You okay?” said Blaise.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Harry said, using the bed to push himself up. Actually, it
hurt like mad, and, raising his hand to touch his head, he could already feel a
lump. Hopefully the pain would subside soon. It did, and after ten minutes he’d
forgotten about it.

Finally, Harry finished unpacking and got undressed into his
pyjamas. As he slid into bed, he shivered, noticing how cold the sheets and
duvet were. He could see a radiator between his and Theodore’s bed, though, so
he hoped it would warm up soon. Another ten minutes, though, and Harry was
asleep.