Let It Be Slytherin ⟶ A Harry Potter Time Travel Fic

Familiar Faces

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Not Slytherin, not Slytherin—

"SLYTHERIN!"

The hats voice echoed throughout the grand hallway. The Slytherin table erupted in cheers. The Gryffindor's table booed, but there were only a few faces Harry cared about. James and Sirius booed the loudest of all, hands cupped in a megaphone. Harry's heart dropped and it suddenly seemed like he was watching his life through a glass. All of his carefully laid plans hung in the balance of this decision. He looked from table to table, and shook his head.

"No, I'm going to Gryffindor." Harry growled.

Whatever you say.

I'm not moving until you say Gryffindor!

This will be a long night, then.

They killed my family!

Not yet.

You're wrong!

I am never wrong, Harry.

"Mr. Fletcher!" Harry looked up into Albus Dumbledore's calculating eyes. "Please join your housemates at the Slytherin table." 

Harry looked out into the student body. His blood ran cold. This was not the plan.

"Mr. Fletcher." Dumbledore said and though his voice was light, Harry understood he would not repeat himself again.

The students stared at him in confusion and the room suddenly became very quiet. Only Harry's breathing seemed to fill the hall.

Harry's mind raced through options. He could demand a resorting. He could go to the Gryffindor table anyway. He could talk to Dumbledore and insist that something had gone TERRIBLY wrong here and there was no way he could be in Slytherin. But he was supposed to be a transfer student, who shouldn't know anything. The hat had declared him a Slytherin. He had no choice but to join them or else risk his cover.

A pin drop would have exploded in the silence of the hall. He took the hat off his head and stood warily. Harry had a sudden desire to light the hat on fire, but he fought it and carefully placed the traitorous thing on the stool. Hundreds of eyes followed him as he began the walk towards the Slytherin table. The Slytherins applauded halfheartedly, accompanied by a few Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and the new Gryffindors who didn't know better, but no one knew what to make of this student who had refused the sorting hat.

Mutterings broke out across the hall as students began to speculate.

"Blimey, what took him so long?"

"Doesn't look happy, does he?"

"SHH!"

Teenagers in green robes eyed him warily as he approached the Slytherin table. Following tradition, the students cleared him an opening with his year. Harry would rather they didn't. Familiar faces greeted him and Harry's fingers itched towards his wand. He sat down, jaw clenched, eyes down, as their faces filled his peripheral vision.

There were too many familiar faces.

At the head table, Dumbledore stood once more, cheerily trying to overcome the negative energy that no one understood. "Thank you everyone and congratulations to our students! And now, for the moment we are anxiously awaiting – bon a petit!"

Dumbledore clapped twice and food appeared on the tables. Roast beef, pork chops, lamb chops, boiled potatoes, mashed potatoes, gravy, carrots, peas, Yorkshire pudding, and an assortment of deserts. Harry even spotted flaming kiwi cups. Delicious smells filled the air and floated all the way up to the candles above. But not even flaming kiwi cups could help Harry now. The beautiful food seemed out of place next to such unseemly company.