Passing through the Floo flames, Harry choked on smoky air, clutching Asclepius's case and enduring the dizzying warp. Seconds later, balance returned. He opened his eyes cautiously.
"Well?"
A familiar, oily voice echoed. Harry straightened, facing Professor Snape.
"Special treatment at its finest, Potter? Early arrival?"
Snape, Slytherin's Head of House, was Harry's guardian at Hogwarts but utterly incompatible with him. Harry half-accepted his rule-breaking caused it, but Snape never awarded him points.
"Been a while, Professor Snape. You look well—"
"Well? Hardly."
Snape spat. "Opening Hogwarts' Floo for one student is unheard of. Using your guardian's influence for special treatment, Potter? How does it feel?"
The accusation stung. What could Harry have done? Sirius, fearing Harry was targeted, sent him ahead to protect others.
Time to use Azrael's Occlumency. Harry met Snape's gaze, standing tall. "You're right, sir. I should've waited with the others."
"Who permitted you to speak?"
Snape sneered, spitting. Harry winced.
(Need better words next time.)
"Sorry, Professor."
"Put your things in your room. The others arrive thirty minutes late. Stay there and behave—or I'll expel you myself."
Snape's tone cemented Harry's return to Hogwarts. As Ron would say, life isn't always convenient. Harry obeyed, entering his room, awaiting the feast.
(Should've brought more food…)
Hungry, Harry's breakfast—a self-made egg and ham sandwich—wasn't enough. Envisioning friends snacking on the Hogwarts Express, he pondered the morning's culprit.
(If it was Dobby… what happens if he's caught? I hope it's not him…)
Zabini and Ron had mentioned Azkaban, a prison surrounded by monsters. The culprit, disrupting many wizards, would face harsh punishment. If Dobby acted to "save" Harry, would it be Harry's fault?
"Is this my fault?" he asked Asclepius.
The snake scoffed. "If he's not caught, worse could happen. If he is, no more trouble for you. Let it go. You're the victim."
"You're right."
Harry had told Sirius about Dobby's interference; Mr. Smirnov knew too. The Ministry would catch Dobby or someone else. It wasn't Harry's fault—he was the victim this time. He should focus on Hogwarts, not the culprit.
Killing time, Harry practiced levitation and Transfiguration spells. Thanks to Sirius, they felt sharper than before summer.
＊＊＊
"Off to the feast, Asc."
"Have fun."
As the feast neared, Harry slipped from the Slytherin common room to the Great Hall. Navigating the castle, he felt eyes on him but blended into the Slytherin line.
"Harry?! Where were you? We looked everywhere!" Zabini nudged him, annoyed.
"Granger and Weasley were worried you got into trouble again," Azrael added.
"Sorry, got lost…" Harry joked, taking a seat between Azrael and Falcas. Slytherin's table was less crowded, securing spots easily. He waved at Draco, who seemed to smile.
"Glad you're safe. We thought you'd miss it," Falcas said.
"You guys made it okay?"
"The Express waited until the entrance worked. Bit of a jam, but the Ministry hushed it," Azrael explained.
"It caused a stir… Any word on the culprit?"
"If they're caught, it'll be in tomorrow's Daily Prophet. Hope they're found soon," Azrael said.
"Here comes Hagrid," Zabini grinned, pointing at Hagrid leading first-years.
Harry watched, recalling his own nervous arrival. The new students eyed older ones anxiously. A small boy, giddy like he'd just seen magic, was scolded by McGonagall.
(Muggle-born, maybe?)
Harry remembered his and Hermione's excitement a year ago—magic was thrilling. He understood that joy.
He worried the boy might attract Slytherin's attention but kept quiet.
The Sorting proceeded solemnly. Abbott joined Hufflepuff, welcomed by prefect Banagher Bist. Gryffindor's prefect, Gaelio Juris, loudly cheered a girl named Bart. The first Slytherin was Eli Brown, a small, shabby blond boy sorted in seconds.
Harry's group clapped, welcoming Brown. Draco nearly complained about Brown's ragged clothes but was stopped by prefect McGillis Carrow.
"Don't speak of housemates like that, Draco. Welcome, Brown, to Slytherin. You're undoubtedly pure-blood. Uphold our noble house's pride and study hard. Pure-bloodism is always on your side."
Carrow, a pure-blood extremist, often clashed with other houses, especially Gryffindors, and admitted struggling with studies.
(Nice guy, but is he fit to be prefect?)
Harry glanced at the female prefect beside Carrow, a friend of his and Marthanas. She was studious but unlikely to curb their troublemaking. More house conflicts loomed.
Luna Lovegood, in her lion hat, received the least applause. Her quirky style clashed with Ravenclaw's intellectual image. Feeling pity, Harry clapped lightly.
The scolded boy, Colin Creevey, was sorted into Gryffindor after ten seconds, joyfully rushing to their table. Azrael muttered, "Good. Gryffindor suits his personality."
"Yeah," Harry agreed, then hesitated. (But is that true?)
He recalled Hermione's isolation last year. Even a fitting personality could lead to exclusion if excessive.
(Hermione or Gryffindor's prefects will handle it…)
Harry hoped Gryffindor's conscience would help, unaware it would fail.
As Sorting dwindled, Harry clapped loudly for Slytherin's new students, congratulating them. Many were shocked he was in Slytherin. One, Roel, whom Harry recognized from Azrael's party, said, "I thought you'd be Gryffindor."
"Get that a lot. But I'm Slytherin. Love snakes too."
Harry grinned at the pockmarked boy.
The last sorted was Ginny Weasley. Gaelio boasted, "Watch, Weasleys always go Gryffindor instantly. Hogwarts tradition: 'There's always a Weasley in Gryffindor.'"
But the Hat hesitated, taking over three minutes.
"What's going on?" Harry wondered.
"It's a Hatstall," Zabini said. "Talented for multiple houses, so the Hat struggles. Rare for a Weasley."
"Hope she gets her choice…" Harry fretted, knowing Ron and the twins adored Ginny. Another house would worry them.
(Telling her to pick Gryffindor is probably meddling.)
Harry wished for Ginny's desired house.
The Hat chose Gryffindor. Blushing, Ginny was celebrated by Ron, the twins, and Hermione. Harry and Slytherins clapped.
Post-Sorting, Lockhart, the new Defense teacher, launched face-shaped fireworks to welcome first-years. Snape, McGonagall, and Sprout glared, but first-years and Dumbledore laughed. Harry thought, (Is Lockhart Gryffindor? Mistaking recklessness for courage…)
＊＊＊
Dumbledore calmed the hall with a cough, exuding dignity and charm. Harry, staring into his twinkling blue eyes, burned with resentment. Dumbledore had left him in the Muggle world, ignorant of the Dursleys' abuse, worsened by summer.
(Not his fault, but if he'd cared more, maybe the Dursleys wouldn't have…)
Harry respected but resented Dumbledore, vowing to surpass him.
(I'll master alchemy, make the Elixir of Life, and outdo him.)
Dumbledore seemed to smile at Harry—or so it felt. With playful flair, he said, "Now… eat! Talk later!"
At the feast, Harry and Draco greeted Slytherin first-years. As a celebrity and heir to wealth, they drew attention, especially from noble-born kids. Harry, neglecting food, praised their families and encouraged them. Many asked about Sirius. The feast ended, and in their room, Harry nibbled food Falcas saved.
"Peaceful year ahead?" Azrael mused, uneasy.
"No Philosopher's Stone, so we're fine," Zabini said.
"Incidents won't keep happening," Falcas added.
Harry wasn't so optimistic. "After summer's weirdness, I doubt it'll be peaceful. But I'll overcome any trial."
He bit into chicken, resolute.
A trial hit immediately. The next day's Daily Prophet named no train-stopping culprit. Instead, it reported Ron's father, Arthur Weasley, enchanting his car illegally.
Harry had to shield Ron from Slytherin bullying.
(Good news: Snape was the real deal this time.)
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