Bad Slytherin
He was taking it back. He was taking everything back. Life was stupid and Slytherin was stupid. Why had he agreed with that stupid hat to put him in Slytherin?
Harry was storming through the corridors, fuming. And of course it had been on Halloween. Nothing good ever came out of that day.
Luckily the feast would start soon anyway and so he was heading toward the Great Hall, cursing under his breath. Even Peeves had disappeared through the next wall, when he had seen Harry’s expression, but Harry didn’t think twice about the satisfaction it would have brought him under different circumstances. Especially when he heard Peeves chase away anyone between him and the Great Hall, chanting. “Moody Potty! Moody Potty on his way, run for your lives!”
It did have the welcome side effect, that he didn’t encounter anyone on his way, but he guessed it wouldn’t do the suspicions about him being the next dark lord any good.
On the other hand… he didn’t care about that either.
He entered the Great Hall under Peeves continuous chants of “Moody Potty! Moody Potty! Run for your lives!” and the teachers looked up with surprise at seeing Harry here.
“Mister Potter”, McGonagall greeted him. “The feast isn’t to start for an hour at least.” “I know”, Harry muttered. “I needed to get out of the Common Room. I won’t disturb you, can I just sit here until it starts?”
McGonagall shared a glance with the other teachers and then nodded. Harry thanked her and sat down at the far end of the Slytherin table.
His anger was slowly dissipating while he watched them do their charms and hexes, decorating the hall, but his mind was reeling. Maybe it was because he had been invested too deeply the last time, but the houses were utter rubbish; fuelling hatred and mistrust when they needed to stand united against the forces of evil.
“Why did no one tell me Slytherin was the evil house?”, Harry asked loudly and the teachers stopped. Snape narrowed his eyes. “What did you say, Mister Potter?”
“You heard me”, Harry stated unafraid. He was here to change things. And this would be part of it. “Slytherin is the evil house. Everyone said so. Said, that Slytherin brought out more evil witches and wizards than any other house, including Voldemort”, most of the teachers flinched, “So why did no one tell me? I’m not evil, I don’t belong in Slytherin.”
The teachers looked stunned. To his utmost surprise, it was Snape who assured him: “Mister Potter, there is no evil house in Hogwarts. It is true, that some of Slytherin’s traits… incline one to dark magic more than the other houses’, but it doesn’t mean you are evil or that you’ll turn evil.”
Harry snorted. Snape glared at him for this disrespect, but he didn’t care. “You’re my Head of House, Professor. You shouldn’t lie to me.”
“He didn’t lie to you, Mister Potter”, McGonagall said sternly. “Slytherin House stands for Cunning, ambition and resourcefulness, among other things. Does any of that sound evil to you?”, Harry didn’t answer, so she continued: “Your house doesn’t define you to be ‘evil’ or not. It’s your choices.”
Harry looked up at her, unblinking. “Then maybe you should tell this to the other Slytherins. I can heard them behind my back, you know. They think I’m the next dark lord to come, because I’m in Slytherin and not in Gryffindor, where I was supposed to land apparently.” It had come out far more bitter and biting than he had intended, but he had only really realized the prejudices now that he was in Slytherin himself and it bothered him to not end.
All of the teachers were silent at that, so Harry continued: “Everyone thinks of me as some kind of great wizard, the next Merlin or whatever, because of something I can’t even remember! Who am I to know, if I really did best Voldemort with some dark powers or not! Everyone seems to know more about me than I do! I didn’t even know I had magic before Hagrid gave me my letter, so how could I have used dark magic then? And then I come to school and get sorted into the wrong house apparently, because there is a wrong house now and I can’t even talk to my friends without every single Slytherin hating me for ‘betraying’ them!” He decided to add one last remark, to really make them think: “I was excited to learn magic, but I won’t when it makes me evil.”
To his surprise, it was Professor Sprout who woke out of her stupor first. “Harry”, she said softly, sitting down next to him. “I don’t think you are a dark wizard and I don’t think you defeated Voldemort with dark magic back then. We may never know what happened there, but it easily could have been equally good magic, that defeated V-Voldemort. Or it was your parents, who protected you somehow. We will never know, but what I’m certain of is, that it doesn’t determine who you are or who you will become. That’s neither for V-Voldemort, nor for your house to decide. We are aware, that Slytherin House faces certain… prejudices – that aren’t entirely unjustified”, she ignored Snape’s nasty glare masterly. “Many of their parents were in league with Voldemort in the war and we can’t deny, that they may have passed some beliefs and prejudices down to their children. But again, Harry, it is not Slytherin House that is evil. The fact alone, that you were smart enough to figure them out, shows me that you are exactly what Slytherin house needs, to return to its former glory. People like you are very important, Harry. You challenge their beliefs and call them out. Don’t stop doing that. And if they give you a hard time, because you are friends with Gryffindors or students from other houses as well, don’t hesitate to tell me or any other teacher. We will be glad to help you.”
Harry blinked, stunned. He had always respected Professor Sprout, but he hadn’t been aware, how… passionate she was about certain things. It was admirable, really
“Well spoken, Pamona”, Flitwick agreed, along with the other teachers – to Harry’s surprise even Snape agreed, but then he realized, that it was probably in his best interest to free Slytherin from the Deatheater’s grasp.
“Thank you”, Harry simply said and Sprout nodded resolutely, but kindly. Harry smiled. And then he looked around, to see that there was still much to do, even with the house-elves’ help.
“Can I help you?”
Flitwick beamed. “Of course, Mister Potter. You are very skilled with the levitation charm.” Harry grinned and jumped up, ready to lend his professors a hand. And this time he got to see exactly, how Professor McGonagall conjured the live bats.
««»»
The feast was as grand and lush as he remembered. There was something, that had slipped his mind though and it became apparent when Quirrell came running into the hall, terror on his face, and gasped: “Troll – in the dungeons – thought you ought to know.”
He sank to the floor in a dead faint and Harry felt white cold horror overcome him. While everyone was in uproar, he searched the Gryffindor Table for Hermione, but didn’t see her.
He had forgotten. He had completely forgotten, because he hadn’t had Charms with the Gryffindors this time and now Hermione was in danger, because he had been too stupid to remember an actual troll.
Just like last time, Dumbledore used purple firecrackers to get everyone’s attention and instructed the prefects to lead their houses back to their dormitories. Gemma shared a look with the other Slytherin prefect, Waylen Warrington, and Harry paused. He hadn’t noticed it the first time, but there was something fundamentally wrong with Dumbledore’s plan.
The Slytherin Common Room was in the dungeons. And despite the troll making its way to the third floor girl’s bathroom, no one here knew that…
He watched the two of them argue silently, while the other Slytherins were waiting awkwardly and scared. Harry had to do something.
Without thinking of the consequences, he turned to face the teacher’s table and Dumbledore especially: “The Slytherin Common Room is in the dungeons, Professor!”, he called angrily and Dumbledore looked actually taken aback at that for a moment, before composing himself. Had he truly not thought of that?
Everyone else had stopped, looking horrified. “Of course”, Dumbledore said quickly. “Thank you, Mister Potter. The Slytherin House will go to the library instead. Professor Sikander will barricade and secure the doors for you.”
Gemma and Waylen motioned everyone to follow them, but Harry wasn’t finished yet. “With all due respect, Sir”, he said coldly, “Have you checked if everyone was even here at the feast? I for one haven’t seen Hermione enter the hall. And I was the first student in here.”
The teachers paled significantly and before Dumbledore could answer, Parvati shrieked, horrified: “She’s in the bathroom!”
McGonagall jumped up. “Prefects, count your students. Look if anyone else is missing. Miss Patil, which bathroom is Miss Granger in?”
“Th-Third floor, west wing!”, she stuttered and before Dumbledore could make another order, McGonagall was out of the hall, wand at the ready. Harry relaxed. Hermione would be fine.
Meanwhile the prefects were counting the students furiously. “I have two missing!”, the Ravenclaw prefect called nervously and this time Flitwick turned to action. “Who is missing? And where are they?”
“Anne and Vicky!”, a small girl, who couldn’t be older than thirteen piped up, her eyes wide. They wanted to go study, because the library is empty now –“
Flitwick rushed past them. Harry had only seen him move this fast once, in his duel against Voldemort.
Meanwhile Dumbledore was frowning, watching the scene intently, and then raised his voice once again. “We’ll have a change of plans. The students will stay here with me. Professor Vektor, Professor Sprout and Professor Sinistra will guard the doors and adjoining corridors. The rest of the teachers will head to the dungeons, to take care of the troll. Professor Binns”, the addressed ghost started, “I will ask you specifically to search through the school as fast as possible, to find any astray students and bring them here safely. Ask the other ghosts for help.”
To everyone’s surprise, Binns nodded and flew as fast as Harry had never seen him fly through the next wall, suddenly revitalized.
««»»
The next minutes of waiting were pure torture. Harry was certain, that McGonagall could handle any troll thrown at her, but she wasn’t expecting to meet one, was she? She expected it to be in the dungeons… He shook his head at his own thoughts. McGonagall would bring Hermione back safe and sound, he was sure of it.
And he didn’t have to wait long to see it. Only a few minutes after Dumbledore’s change of plans, McGonagall re-entered the hall, an ashen and trembling Hermione on her heels.
Harry jumped up and ran over to hug her. In her state of shock, she did nothing but wrap her arms around him, not making a single sound. Soon they were surrounded by Gryffindors, but also Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, who wanted to see if she was all right. McGonagall’s claim, that they had met the troll and only barely escaped, didn’t help with their nerves, even if it was knocked out now and not a danger anymore.
««»»
Later in his bed, Harry thought back over the events and smirked slightly, when he remembered Quirrell’s baffled face, when he ‘awoke’ after a while, clearly having given up on disappearing to the third floor any time soon.
What definitely counted as one of his best memories of the evening, was McGonagall glaring at Dumbledore and giving Harry forty points for ‘outstandingly collected and smart decisions in the face of danger’.
Harry had earned many points in his years here, but he had never earned points for thinking smart in dangerous situations. He kind of liked it…
««»»
The coming weeks were… difficult. He hadn’t gotten onto the Quidditch team, his house mates still thought he was the next Dark Lord to come, Snape still hated his guts and Quirrell was watching him exceptionally close. Which was, why Harry didn’t feel bad in the slightest, when he decided to help Fred and George bewitch snowballs to hit Quirrell’s turban.
Maybe he should have asked, but he wasn’t sure if Voldemort had even remembered that incident the first time around. Nonetheless, it was great fun – even more so, now that Harry knew they were effectively hitting Voldemort in the face.
And, to be honest, the past weeks hadn’t been all bad. Ron and Hermione were getting along much better since Halloween (after Ron apologized to her sheepishly), Fred and George were always a blessing to have around and even Neville was starting to open up to him.
Sometimes he could pretend, that they were his friends – the friends he had known for years -, when Hermione dragged them to the library or Ron hopelessly bested him in chess or Fred and George pulled a prank on Filch or Neville came running into the Great Hall, covered in dirt and fertilizer. But then he remembered Hermione’s desperate screams, as Bellatrix tortured her; more than once Harry had searched for the word ‘Mudblood’ carved into her arm. He remembered Ron leaving for months, when they parted ways to go their respective common rooms; He remembered his and George’s desperate wheeps over Fred’s corpse in the middle of the Great Hall; he even once saw the determined expression Neville had worn when he defied Voldemort to his face, when they had a particularly hard lesson on Bouncing Bulbs.
But he was glad for them. Even if Ron didn’t fail to mourn the fact, that he was in Slytherin at least once in every conversation they had. – Much to Neville’s amusement and Hermione’s annoyance.
It was nice, to hang out with them, no questions asked, but sometimes Harry noticed the age gap between them, when Ron was acting especially immature towards Hermione or Hermione said to their faces, that there could be nothing more horrible than getting expelled or Neville, who didn’t even have a fraction of the confidence he would grow to have.
It was nothing he could fault them for, but Harry missed his friends terribly. He missed Dumbledore, with whom he had gone to retrieve the Horcrux and spent countless hours in his office, learning about Voldemort. He missed Professor McGonagall and the other teachers, who had defended Hogwarts in the face of war and duelled Voldemort himself – heck, he even missed Snape!
He wasn’t exactly sure, what he missed of Snape, as all he had known from him was hatred, but now that he knew there was a whole other person hidden behind the façade he put on, he couldn’t help himself but be curious. – Curious if it could be different. Curious if Snape could ever trust the people around him enough to let his hatred and bitterness fall.
But as of now, he wasn’t sure how to accomplish that. He was still struggling with making himself as distant from James Potter as he could, but so far it hadn’t worked as well as he had hoped, even if his potion skills had increased significantly.
««»»
Harry, Fred and George were scrubbing the trophies in the trophy room relentlessly. ‘Spotless’, McGonagall had demanded.
Harry remembered her baffled face, when she had caught not just the twins, but him as well, bewitching the snowballs and had asked him, why he had done that. Harry couldn’t exactly tell her his actual reason, so he had said that he ‘felt like it’. Her face of carefully composed horror had been hilarious and it had taken everything in him, not to burst out laughing. Fred and George had lacked that self-composure.
He felt a bit bad about it. It wasn’t like he tried to follow into his father’s footsteps as a Marauder. He just enjoyed hitting Voldemort in the face with snowballs.
And, to be honest, detentions with Fred and George in the trophy room wasn’t nearly as bad as his detention with Lockhart. Or Snape. Plus, this detention gave him some food for thought as well, when he came to polish Tom Riddle’s Award for special services to the school.
It wouldn’t be relevant before the start of his second school year, but he could take care of everything, that there would be no beast to release upon the school, even if Ginny so happened to come into possession of the Horcrux again, which Harry was determined to avoid under any circumstance.
“Hey!”, Fred called and threw a wet sponge at him. “Did you fall asleep? Don’t think you can let us do the work all alone!”
Harry grinned. “Why? Isn’t that what Slytherins are supposed to be good at?”
George huffed. “Slytherins are also supposed to be sneaky and sly. You are neither.”
“Excuse me?”
Fred snorted. “He’s right, you know. You helped us hit a teacher with snowballs. That’s the opposite of sly.”
Harry hummed, seemingly thinking. “So, is it sly to be able to keep you apart and not tell you why?”
They stared at him for a moment. Harry stared back. They shared a glance. “He is good, you know”, Gorge said and Harry grinned. “I take it you won’t tell us how you do it”, Fred said and Harry’s grin widened. “Never.”
They frowned. He knew it would eat them alive, that he could tell them apart so easily. The first time it had taken them much longer to notice, but he had never told them how either. Mostly, because he thought it wasn’t a common skill and he was done with being seen as weird or dangerous. Or freaky.
He looked Tom Riddle’s award over once again, making a decision.
He would go down to the Chamber by the end of the holidays and get rid of the Basilisk.