Hogwarts was absolutely mad.
Everything about the place was mad. The building itself seemed to be designed as complicated as possible, for starters. He would have been miserable his first day, running around hopelessly lost with his classmates, if it hadn't been for his second problem with Hogwarts- the other students.
They were everywhere. Every bleeding corridor he turned down- there's some kid standing there staring at him. Whispering. Watching. He thought the Slytherins would leave him alone after the first night- but no, they were all always there, watching, staring.
The only silver lining of them being every damned where was that Draco had no problems demanding they give them directions to their classes.
The older Slytherins seemed especially eager to guide them around and attempt to start conversations with their group.
Draco puffed himself up, pleased with the extra attention they were receiving. Ron was someone with the right priorities though- he would glare and keep his wand in his hand whenever they were being followed by groups of other students. Zabini, who seemed to integrate quickly and easily with them, laughed every time Harry shot a curse off at anyone who tried to approach him.
The very first class he had, History of Magic, was just more proof, as if he needed it, that Hogwarts was mad. The class itself was taught be a ghost. An honest to god, can't hold anything solid, see-through, ghost. Harry suspected when the original Professor Binns died that he didn't even realize that he had died which is why he's a ghost teaching history now.
He certainly didn't realize when the other students tried to spend a good portion of the class by whispering about Harry.
"-disgusting," was a whispered clip he heard from one of his housemates, Millicent Bulstrode.
"-unwanted," was a word he heard through piercing insult from Parkinson.
"-evil," came from a Gryffindor boy that Harry thought was named Finnigan.
Neville and Draco, on either side of him, had clearly heard the whispers and taunts as well, judging by their stiffened shoulders and stony faces.
"Oi," Ron, who was seated behind Harry's table with Zabini and Nott, hissed at the Gryffindor boy. "Why don't you shut your mouth before I shut it for you?"
Harry had no idea why Ron was defending him. He didn't know why he'd offered to be his second last night either for that matter. He'd need to talk to him soon and find out what kind of game he's playing because Harry isn't going to owe him favors later.
"Yeah?" The other boy whispered back. "Bet you're just as bad. Heard your brothers talk about how there's never been a Weasley in Slytherin before, so how come you are?"
"Sod off," Ron whispered, turning back to the front with his ears becoming a shocking shade of red.
All in all, History of Magic was not Harry's favorite class.
Transfiguration though, that class left him with what is probably the most genuine smile of his life.
When he entered the classroom he made for a table in the back until he heard someone shout his name. He had looked up and saw Susan at a desk upfront and she was gesturing to an empty seat beside her.
He walked over to her, slowly and carefully avoiding coming in contact with the other Hufflepuff students who were openly gaping at him, and gave her a shy grin.
"Ya want me to sit here?"
Susan rolled her eyes and sighed at him.
"Harry- I told you, we are friends and friends sit together in classes."
He shrugged and sat his bag down. "'Kay," he said happily.
Susan chatted a little and told him about her potions class she had before this one. Apparently Professor Snape was 'really very strict' but awarded her 2 points for knowing when the best time to harvest Moonweeds was.
Harry was saved from telling her how History went, badly, when Professor McGonagall had came in the room and immediately called for attention.
She was a rather intimidating witch. Straight backed, steely gaze, mouth set in a firm line.
"Welcome, to Transfiguration. This class will, undoubtedly, be some of the most dangerous and difficult magic you will encounter during your studies here. Anyone found to be messing about in my classroom will be sent out and unable to return, is that absolutely clear?"
She stared hard around the room, her eyes touching on each student as it passed.
Harry didn't think he was being dramatic when he saw her eyes narrow slightly more as she met his.
He put his head down after that and traced his thumb across the grain of the table while he listened to her lecture on the theory behind the days lesson.
Eventually, Professor McGonagall handed out matchsticks to everyone and taught them the incantation to change it in to a needle. Susan giggled when he simply pointed at his and let his magic switch it immediately.
"Mr. Potter!" Harry looked up and paled at the look of annoyance on the Professors face.
"M-m'am?" He asked softly.
"Where is your wand?" She asked him, her voice as hard as her eyes.
"My p-pocket," he all but whispered.
Some of the kids behind him chuckled at his response. He heard a boy whisper, "what a moron," and his face heated up at the insult.
He knew he sounded weak- he hated it. It was so easy to not care when it's kids and bullies but he's never had a good run in with an adult. Especially any adult in authority.
Snape wasn't so bad, but he was a bit of a bastard all together, so he didn't really count.
Professor McGonagall scoffed at his answer and slammed another matchstick on his desk, causing him to flinch towards Susan.
"I have no tolerance for cheating, Mr Potter. That's five points from Slytherin. Do it again."
She stood beside his desk with her arms crossed. Harry paled and could feel his hands trembling as the rest of the class whispered about him being a cheater. He could feel their gazes at his back and the thought of all their eyes on him made him want to crawl out of his skin.
I can't. I can't do it when they're all staring. He could feel his breath starting to accelerate and he tried, in vain, to clear his mind. Don't be weak.
He felt a warm and small hand briefly touch his shoulder and was jolted from his panic with his flinch at the contact. He looked over to see Susan giving him an encouraging smile. Her teal eyes had a determined glint in them as she nodded towards his matchstick.
Harry took a steadying breath, ignoring the glaring Professor and nosey students, and turned his attention to the matchstick. He thought of Susan's determined gaze and tried to make himself give off that same level of confidence. He pointed his finger at the match and pictured a needle and he gave a small tug on his magic.
It immediately worked. It really was one of the easiest bits of magic he'd ever done. Healing his broken ankle when he was nine was much more difficult than switching that tiny little match had been.
Susan clapped and the whispers of the rest of the class raised exponentially. The professor didn't appear to be impressed with him at all though, she just sniffed and told him he needed to work on using his wand for the rest of the class before striding off to the other side of the room.
Harry slumped over his desk in relief. He wasn't sure what he had done to make the Professor dislike him so early on in class but he hoped that the rest of the 'not-ghost' teachers would be different.
Beside him, Susan put her hand straight up in the air, her matchstick ignored on the desk.
"Miss Bones," McGonagall acknowledged. "Do you need assistance?"
Susan shook her head, "No ma'am." She smiled at the Professor and even though her face looked nothing but polite, Harry could see the hard look in her eyes that made her seem slightly older than she was. "I was simply wondering if you were going to give Harry back his five points since he proved to you that he didn't actually cheat."
Harry ducked his head, not wanting the Professors gaze to fall back on him. The rest of the room went silent, all waiting to hear the Professors response.
"Very well. Mister Potter, I will add the five points back to Slytherin since it appears you did not actually cheat."
Harry was so surprised by that he picked his head up and looked at the teacher in shock. He had been sure that she would refuse.
"However," she continued, holding her grey eyes on Harry's green ones. "I am subtracting five from Slytherin for not following the clear instructions I gave to use your wand and speak the incantation outloud. Further," she switched her gaze to Susan, "I am subtracting three points from Hufflepuff for interfering in the disciplinary methods of a teacher."
... yeah, that was actually more of what he expected.
Harry felt bad that Susan lost points on his behalf but he also felt warm inside that she had tried to go to bat in his defense. He gave her a small grin, as much of one as he could at the moment, and almost laughed to see the look of pure outrage on her face.
"'M sorry Susan," he whispered to her later, towards the end of class after they both had turned the matches into needles using their wands.
Susan rolled her eyes when she leant closer to him and whispered back, "don't apologize. That was bullshit."
Harry sputtered and choked when she said that. He'd never heard her curse before. It sounded hilarious coming from the same mouth that usually spent most of its time giggling. He gave her a crooked grin and she winked at him.
When the bell rang for the end of the class Harry was more than ready to head to lunch and when Draco and Ron spent the whole walk there disparaging McGonagall he had hardly listened. He kept replaying the ways that Susan had helped him in the class and had a genuine smile on his face as he realized this must be what it means to have a best friend.
***
The rest of the week seemed to pass by quickly.
While the whispers and stares didn't die down by much, Harry had gotten more used to ignoring them.
And much better at tossing silent jinxes at the ones that didn't send his thoughts in a spiral.
He was becoming more comfortable in the Slytherin dorm room and appreciated Dracos efforts with the washroom schedule when he was able to take an actual hot shower every morning. He had no idea that it would feel so amazing.
Apart from Transfiguration, which Harry had on Mondays and Wednesdays, the rest of the teachers seemed excited by his magic and nobody else made him use his wand.
In fact- Professor Flitwick awarded him fifteen points for his lumos charm that created a floating ball of light and Professor Quirrell stuttered his way through an invitation for private dueling lessons. The astronomy teacher, Professor Sinistra, was thrilled that he knew most of the constellations by heart. She spent twenty minutes after class eagerly recommending books on the different histories of the constellations to him, apparently pleased to have a student who knew so much about the stars.
He didn't bother to tell her that he spent a lot of sleepless nights in the outskirts of London with nothing to block his view of the sky from his park bench.
His first potions class, on Thursday after lunch, left him with mixed feelings. On the one hand, it didn't require him to actually use magic so he had to work just as hard as the other students to get a good result- which was fine by him, his other classes were boring. The real problem in that class was Finnigan.
Harry had no idea why the boy was so determined to bother him but he seemed to have some sort of natural instinct that led him to pushing until Harry nearly broke.
In the potions cupboard Finnigan hissed "freak" in his ear as he crowded up behind Harry, close, too close, under the guise of reaching for the same ingredients Harry was.
Harry didn't say anything about it but Draco volunteered to get the rest of the ingredients for them when he got back to their cauldron.
When Neville made a mistake that class that blew his and Finnigans cauldron up Harry could have sworn he saw Neville shoot him a wink after Professor Snape assigned them both zeroes for the day.
Like he said, he had mixed feelings about potions class.
***
Friday morning Harry woke up early, a scream strangled in his throat, blankets tangled around his legs, and his skin shivering in sweat. He sat up in his bed and ripped the blankets off and sucked air in desperately.
It was a dream, just a dream. You're at Hogwarts. It's not real. Not anymore. Never again.
Across the room, Ron's red head peeked out at him behind his canopy hangings.
"Alright there mate?" He asked sleepily.
"Fine," Harry clipped. "Go back to sleep."
Ron gave him a curious look then shrugged and laid his head back on his pillow.
Harry still hadn't talked to him yet about why he was acting so nice towards him. Twice now, in classes, the other boy had sniped at kids who were being jerks. Once, in Herbology, Ron had even thrown a handful of mud at Bulstrode when she tripped Harry outside the greenhouse. Hermione had giggled next to him when Bulstrode turned an alarming shade of purple at the mud on her robes.
Wondering about Ron's intentions helped him to clear his mind of the nightmare he'd had. He checked the time and saw that it was 0500, nobody was scheduled for the shower for another hour so Harry decided he might as well get up and get ready now.
He felt like a zombie all through his shower, and his review of his Potions essay due this morning, and during his walk to breakfast with the other boys. His mind was fuzzy and his eyes felt heavy.
Idly, while he nibbled on a corner of toast, he wondered how much trouble he would be in if he skipped classes to sleep all day.
He was about to ask Draco just that when a large tawny owl landed on the table in front of him and stuck it's leg out importantly.
"Er-" he glanced around carefully at the other kids sitting near him. "Is that for me?"
The owl gave him a look that clearly told him what it thinks about his mental capacity and shook its leg right in his face.
"Well, open it up!" Draco crowed from beside him, peeking over his shoulder.
Harry shot him a look that had the other boy scooting away a little with a sheepish look on his face.
He carefully untied the thick scroll on the owls leg, opened it up, and then stared at it blankly after reading the first few lines.
"What the fuck?" He whispered (a new phrase he got from Professor Snape which never fails to make Neville laugh and Hermione turn pink with indignation).
"What is it?" Draco asked, carefully not coming too close to Harry.
"Dunno, it says 'invite to ally', then a lot of bullshit." Harry told him.
Draco, Ron, and Nott all perked up at that. Zabini just kept eating his eggs.
"Really?" Nott asked, "what family is it from?"
Harry looked at the bottom of the letter where the signature was.
"Juliana Zabini?"
The other boys all turned and looked at Zabini, who shrugged indifferently and continued poking at the eggs on his plate.
"Mother read my letters about Potter and insisted we send a formal offer of alliance between him and my family."
Ron scoffed, "that's such a pure blood thing to do."
"You are a pure blood as well." Zabini replied.
Interrupting the oncoming argument, if Ron's ears were anything to divine by, which by now Harry figured they were, he spoke up.
"What's an alliance?" He asked Zabini.
Zabini looked thoughtful at his question but it was Nott who answered.
"An alliance is a bond between individuals, but can sometimes be between families. It means that you've agreed to fight for, and defend, each other from outside parties and assist each other in reaching your goals when you're able to."
Harry considered this for a few moments and finally came to an understanding.
"Oh, like a gang."
He'd had a lot of experiences with gangs in London. At first he spent a lot of time and energy in avoiding them, they had seen him as a tiny and easy target for beatings and muggings. Then, after he went a few rounds with a couple gangs and left his marks, he spent his time avoiding offers to join. He didn't want to be a follower in a gang- but he wouldn't mind being in charge of one. There was a lot of power and protection in gangs if you have the right people.
"What's a gang?" Draco asked, his nose crinkled at the unfamiliar term.
"It's like Nott said, innit? People who'll fight with ya and help ya."
Zabini nodded at him. "Exactly."
"How is an alliance, or gang, different than being friends?" Ron blurted out, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.
Draco heaved an enormously dramatic sigh before he answered.
"An alliance-"
Harry coughed and gave him a pointed look.
Draco barely refrained from rolling his eyes at his interruption.
"Sorry, a gang is much more formal. Friendships can be broken but allia- gangs have more consequences if you break them."
Harry nodded agreeably with this explanation. He'd seen a lot of kids being found in rivers and dumpsters after supposedly trying to back out of their gang. That was one of the reasons he never wanted to be a follower of someone else. Nobody was going to hold the power of his life over him and his choices.
"Well that's dumb," Ron said, continuing his debate with Draco. "Me and Harry are mates and I don't think I gotta send him a fancy letter saying that I'd fight for him."
Harry looked at him incredulously, thinking back on all their interactions.
"When did ya say we're friends?"
He was positive that Susan was the only person so far who had declared herself to be his friend. Sure, some of the other kids, like Hermione and Neville and all them, were nice enough to him but that didn't mean they wanted to be his friend.
Draco and Zabini snorted while Nott hid his smile behind his Charms textbook.
Ron huffed and crossed his arms defensively across his chest.
"Well, I dunno, maybe I didn't say it out loud but I just thought we were," he muttered, his cheeks staining a light red.
"Maybe you should have sent a 'fancy pureblood letter'," Zabini suggested in an innocent tone that was given away by his smirk.
"Oh," Harry thought he finally understood why Ron kept defending him in their classes. "Is that why ya yelled at Finnigan and threw mud at Bulstrode? Why didn't ya just say ya wanted ta be in a gang with me? I was thinkin' you were gonna try an ask me for some favor."
Ron looked uncomfortable but Harry admired how he kept his head up and his eyes on Harry. He was stubborn- a skill that could save his life if he lived like Harry did.
"I mean, I dunno much about gangs but if it means that we hang out and do stuff for each other just cause we're mates, then yeah, I wanna be in the gang too."
Harry considered him carefully, weighing the pros and cons of adding Ron to his gang. So far there had only been pros to being around Ron but he wasn't so sure that there would never be any cons.
"'Kay," he eventually said. "Ya can be in. But if ya try and pull a fast one later then 'm done with ya."
Ron nodded eagerly and gave him a smile before shooting a smug look at Draco.
"Wicked." He said, before turning back to his breakfast.
"Potter- I would like to be a part of your gang as well," Draco said, with a pouty look on his face. "I can't extend the offer on my entire family, yet, because father is always careful about joining in with others-" Ron snorted, as if finding something funny with Dracos statement. "-but I was given leave to join with anyone I chose as long as I can properly explain myself." Draco continued, ignoring Ron's interruption. "And I believe father will be pleased to hear of me joining you."
Harry shrugged, Draco was a little posh and proper but overall he wasn't a bad bloke. He'd made that schedule for the washroom and gave him a chocolate frog after their last class with McGonagall as a 'no strings attached, pick me up'.
"Sure Draco, but don't forget that 'm not owin' any favors to anyone in my gang." He glared at both Draco and Ron, his eyes flashing dangerously.
"Of course," Draco said, his posh tone not covering the way his pale face had paled more at the look on Harry's. "Gangs help out because of their commitment to each other- not for favors."
Ron nodded and quickly agreed.
Harry turned back to the letter in front of him and thought more about it.
"Zabini? Why would your mum wanna be in a gang? Are ya both trying to join or just her?"
Zabini answered in the casual, 'I barely care about this conversation', way that he typically spoke. "Mother would tie herself to you, and your causes, but I would be the formal representation for the Zabini family."
He didn't know much about Zabini besides he never really got worked up about much, loved to compare gossip with Neville, was always trying to gamble, and seemed to be a dab at Astronomy.
"Why should ya be able ta join?" Harry asked curiously. He knew most gangs had initiation rights, but as he had never actually pursued one he didn't know what they usually were.
Ron looked at Zabini as well, as if he was also curious about how he could prove his worth to their gang.
"Where do you stay in the summers?" Zabini asked, apropos of nothing.
"None of your damn business," Harry snarled viscously.
"Freak. Dirty. Orphan. Vagrant. Whore."
Harry's head spun with the insults he imagined he would hear if the other boys heard about his life outside of Hogwarts. He curled his head down towards his chest, placed his hands flat on the breakfast table, and rubbed his thumbs against the grain of the table, desperately trying to center himself by the soothing action.
"Hey, Potter."
He peeked up at Zabinis chagrined expression and flicked his eyes away, quickly assessing the other students nearest him, then towards the doors to the main hall, and finally back to the table.
"I apologize. I didn't mean to upset you."
Harry put his face back down, but watched Zabini through his eyelashes carefully, and did his best imitation of an indifferent scoff.
"'M not upset," he lied. "Just ain't your business, is it?"
"I was just going to say that if you could get permission from your guardians then you could come stay with me and Mother at our manor in Italy sometime this summer. And if I was a part of the gang then Mother would grant you access to our families library-" he lowered his voice and leaned closer to Harry, "we have a lot of tomes you would never find here at Hogwarts."
Harry's head snapped up and his mind cleared at this new information.
"Really?" He breathed. "And I wouldn't owe ya nothin'? I can just stay and read?"
Zabini grinned sharply at his breathless excitement.
"If I'm in the gang."
Harry nodded at once. "Yep. Ya can be in, Zabini. Same rules as Draco and Ron though"
Ron snorted and Draco laughed outright at his quick enthusiasm and acceptance.
Zabini raised his goblet in a tiny salute with a wink towards Harry.
"Cheers, call me Blaise, please."
"Guess that's all of us then," Ron said happily.
"*Ahem.*" Draco cleared his throat and sent a pointed look at Nott who shrugged from behind his book.
"I'm not allowed to join a gang without Fathers approval," he said simply.
Harry thought that sounded reasonable and assured him that if he changed his mind, and could come up with a good reason why he should join, that he could be in with them.