"What's wrong?" Draco asked, leaning to whisper in Harry's ear as the Headmaster rose.
"Nothing. Headache," Harry grunted, running his fingers through his hair. He didn't know what the pain meant, but his scar had never hurt before. Was it somehow sensitive to magic? Or was it all a coincidence?
Draco frowned.
"If it still hurts after the feast, you should go to the nurse," he instructed, in a manner reminiscent of his mother. But the pain had already faded.
"It's gone," Harry said. Perhaps later, he would tell Draco that the pain had resonated only in his scar. Or perhaps Professor Snape. He would surely know what to do.
The headmaster was speaking, and Harry managed to catch the end of his words.
"-Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" Professor Dumbledore exclaimed, sitting down.
Harry stared. And then he turned to stare at Draco.
"He's, er, a bit mad, isn't he?" he asked. Draco laughed.
"My father says that he's the worst thing to ever happen to Hogwarts," he said, which didn't really answer Harry's question. He was about to say that, when his attention was captured by the food suddenly appearing on the golden plates in front of him.
Harry gaped. He had never seen so much to eat in his life. And he could have as much as he liked. Distracted from his headache and from Professor Dumbledore's strange words, he started serving himself, taking all of his favorites and some things that he had never tried before, as well.
The pumpkin pasties and cauldron cakes long forgotten, Harry and the rest of the school dug into the feast. For a few moments, the only sound to be heard in the Great Hall was the clatter of silverware, but soon conversation rose, as well.
A ghost floated over towards them. He wore clothes that looked at least a thousand years out of date, and had something that looked disgustingly like blood all down his pearly white front. Harry quickly looked away.
The ghost sighed, and remained in the open spot next to Draco Malfoy, who looked disquieted by his presence.
Harry looked up to see the ghost peering at him.
"Harry Potter," he said, his voice almost hoarse. "It is good to see you in Slytherin. And the rest of you," he commented towards the other first years. But his focus soon went back to Harry. He stared, curious, at Harry's forehead, before looking away.
Harry wondered why. Was he famous, even among ghosts?
"Er, thank you, sir," Harry said, when it looked like none of the other first years were going to speak up. "And who-?"
"I am known as the Bloody Baron," the ghost said sadly. He didn't offer his real name, and Harry didn't feel comfortable asking. "The ghost of Slytherin House."
"Nice to meet you," Harry offered, apparently braver than the rest of his classmates.
The Blood Baron looked a bit surprised, but pleased.
"And you, as well."
Harry got back to eating. He was too hungry to be distracted for long, and the food was too good.
"I trust you'll all work hard this year?" The Bloody Baron said, and Harry looked at him, mouth full of potatoes. "We've won the House Cup six years in a row, now. I would hate to break our streak."
It was almost threatening, but Harry wondered what a ghost could really do to him. He shrugged. He didn't yet know how the House Cup worked, or points, or anything like that. Still, the idea of winning sounded good to him. And he had already decided to work hard at his new school.
"Okay," he said agreeably. The ghost smiled. It was a bit disturbing, but it was better than him looking so depressed.
"Well, perhaps we'll speak again, Mr. Potter," the Bloody Baron said, before floating off to speak to a few third years.
Harry shrugged off the odd encounter as he buttered a roll. Ghosts were strange, yes, but no stranger than anything else he had encountered since Professor Snape had come to call.
"He was a bit creepy," Draco muttered, and Pansy nodded vigorously, her face pale.
"I suppose," Harry said. But after first living in a cupboard full of spiders, and later watching his snake hunt for her meals, he had a hardy constitution.
Persephone, perhaps sensing that he was thinking of her, chose that moment to peek out from his shirt collar, scenting the air with her flicking tongue.
"Food?" she asked, winding around his neck. "Mouse? Rat?" She was always more than a bit incoherent when she was half-asleep, as she was now.
"That's a snake," Zabini said, but he sounded more fascinated than anything, so Harry let his imminent comment about stating the obvious go.
"This is my pet, Persephone," he said, stroking her head as she slowly woke up. It still felt wrong to refer to her as his 'pet,' but he wasn't prepared to tell everyone about the familiar bond. Not yet. "I have permission from Professor Snape to have her," he added defensively.
"Very cool, Potter," Zabini said, approvingly. "You might fit in here, after all."
A reedy looking boy sitting across from Harry, Theodore Nott, snorted into his food.
"We'll see about that," he muttered.
"Do you have a problem, Nott?" Draco asked, sounding about ready to fight. "Harry belongs here just as much as any of us."
"No, not at all," he said sarcastically. "After all, he's just the Boy-Who-Lived, defeater of the Dark Lord. Why wouldn't he belong in the Dark Lord's house?"
A hush fell over the first years. No one had dared mention the Dark Lord yet, even though many of their relatives had served him. Many of whom were in prison, or worse.
Harry watched Nott, intently. He was wary of having another Dudley on his hands, another bully. But things would be different this time, if so. He had his wand, he had Draco and his new friends, and he had Professor Snape. Not to mention Persephone. He wouldn't be cowed.
"Whatever happened that night," he said quietly, interrupting Draco's anger, "it wasn't my fault. I was only a year old. How could I defeat one of the most powerful wizards in the world? It just doesn't make any sense."
"Even if you didn't defeat the Dark Lord, how many of our parents did your father put in Azkaban?" Nott demanded. "My mother-"
"That's enough!" One of the older years had gotten up from the table to investigate the commotion coming from the first-years. "Nott, cool off. Potter isn't at fault. We don't blame each other for what our parents did."
Nott looked sulky, but he ducked his head, nodding. Whatever Nott's problem with him was, it looked like he would keep quiet about it for the moment.
The first-years quieted down, only to cheer up when dessert appeared. Harry allowed himself to be distracted by the sweets, not dwelling on how many of his classmates might be his enemies, if he sided against the Dark Lord like his parents.
But he didn't have to worry about that now. He was only eleven, after all. And while he very much hated the person who had killed his parents and landed him with the Dursley's, Harry was smart enough to know that he didn't know everything.
The world was a complicated and mysterious place, after all. Once he hadn't believed in magic, and here he was.
One of the girls Harry hadn't met yet, her blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders, turned to look at Harry, biting into a slice of pie.
"How long have you had a snake, Potter?"
"Since I was nine," Harry said, taking some treacle tart onto his plate. "I found her in the garden, and she wouldn't leave."
It was true enough, even if it wasn't the full truth.
"Oh, that's sweet," said another one of the girls with a sigh. "I'm Tracey Davis, and this is Daphne Greengrass."
"Nice to meet you both," Harry said, after he swallowed. The Dursley's hadn't bothered teaching him any manners, but Harry had managed to pick some up anyway.
Both girls smiled at him. Harry wondered if they would be his friends, as well. Now that he had a taste of friendship, he found that he liked it a lot. It was better than watching Dudley push away anyone who so much as smiled at him, at any rate. And while Persephone was a fine friend, there was something to be said for having humans by his side, as well. Draco had already proved invaluable, teaching him about the wizarding world and defending him from Nott.
The others started talking about their summer holidays and how excited they were for classes to begin, but Harry noticed something familiar. There was a girl on the other side of Tracey, who looked sad and lonely, and was poking at her dessert despondently.
Harry had worn that expression too many times among his muggle classmates, and he felt for her. Not wanting to leave another person in that position, he spoke up.
"What's your name?" he asked.
She looked up, clearly started, with an expression on her face that clearly said who, me? Harry nodded.
"Millicent Bulstrode," she said quietly, and Harry got the sense she was waiting to be teased. She didn't look like Pansy, Tracey, or Daphne, and while he disagreed with it, Harry had seen other students bullied for looking different before. He didn't like it, having experienced it himself.
"Good to meet you," Harry said, forcing cheer into his voice. "Can I call you Millie?"
She looked almost alarmed.
"Okay?" she said, and it was more like a question than a reply. "I mean, you can if you like."
"Good," Harry said with a smile, determined that no one in Slytherin would be left out. He wouldn't tolerate it. After all, in Slytherin, you'll make your real friends, or so the Sorting Hat said. Harry wanted that more than anything.
Pansy was looking at him speculatively, and Harry thought that maybe he had surprised her somehow. Draco, too, was looking at him oddly, but neither said anything, so he dismissed it.
Harry was growing rather full and sleepy, so when the dessert disappeared from the table, he didn't mind. He was ready for bed, after all, and by the way the sound had quieted around the hall, so was everyone else. At the head table, Professor Dumbledore stood.
"Ahem - just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First-years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." He glanced at the Gryffindor table, and harry followed his gaze. Two red headed boys, Weasley's Harry thought, preened at the attention.
"I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
Harry stared.
"Is he serious?" he muttered to no on in particular. Draco scowled.
"I hope not. I'll write to father - he's on the Board of Hogwart's Governors. He'll know."
Harry wondered if there was anything that Mr. Malfoy wasn't involved with. He had picked up from Draco's letters that he was somehow influential in the Ministry of Magic, as well.
"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" came the final announcement. Harry noticed that Professor Snape, in particular, had a sour expression on his face.
"Everyone pick their favorite tune and off we go!"
The students began to sing, and Harry joined in with a mental shrug.
"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."
It certainly was a very odd song, but Harry was getting used to that.
"Ah, music," Dumbledore said, wiping his eyes as if he had teared up. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"
The four tables rose to their feet almost as one, and most of the students started leaving the Great Hall. Harry and the rest of the Slytherin first-years, however, remained, unsure where to go. Two older students approached them.
"I'm Gemma Farley," said the girl with a smile. "And this is Tobias Avery. We're the fifth year prefects. So follow us, and we'll take you to the Slytherin Common Room."
Harry wss glad to know that they wouldn't be left to fend for themselves. He, along with the rest of the first years, followed Gemma out of the Great Hall and down into the dungeons.
Down, down into the dungeons they went, past portraits that moved and muttered as they walked by, through hidden passages and up staircases that moved. Harry could barely keep his eyes open, and he wondered if he would be able to find the Great Hall for breakfast the next day. Hopefully the prefects would help, if he got lost. Or the ghosts.
Finally, they reached a bare stretch of stone wall, and the prefects halted.
"The Common Room requires a password to enter," Gemma announced. Tobias Avery seemed to be the quiet sort. "It changes every two weeks. This week's password is [password]." And the stone wall melted away to reveal the Common Room.
They followed Gemma and Tobias inside, looking around in awe. The ceiling was clear glass, that must have been enchanted, and showed what looked like the bottom of the Black Lake. Harry could see fish, and perhaps other creatures, swimming in the dark water.
The first years gathered around the prefects, though they were ready to go to bed.
"We'll just keep you for a short moment," Tobias said, speaking for the first time, "and then we'll take you down to the dormitories. Slytherin is the least understood house, and many of the other students will think the worst of you just because of the color of your robes."
"We know that dark wizards come from all walks of life and all houses," Gemma continued. "Not just Slytherin. And Merlin himself was in our House - the most famous wizard of them all. But tell that to Gryffindor, who likes to pretend we're all evil."
"We don't tell you this to frighten you, but to prepare you for what you might face in the corridors of Hogwarts," Tobias added. "Be on your guard, and remember: Slytherins are always united. Now, boys with me, girls with Gemma, and we'll see you settled for the night."
Harry followed Avery, along with Draco, Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott. Down further they traveled, until they reached a door with First Years engraved in silver on the front. Tobias pushed the door open, and a large room was revealed, with enough four-poster beds for each of them, with green and silver brocade curtains.
Each bed had a trunk in front of it, and Harry found his quickly, pulling the vivarium out of the trunk. Persephone preferred to sleep in it, as Harry had a tendency to roll over on her in his sleep.
"Sleep well," Avery said. "You'll get your class schedules in the morning." And he left, shutting the door behind him.
Too tired to do much besides change into their pajamas and brush their teeth, the boys all went to bed. Harry, his wand under his pillow, curled under the warm blankets and had the best sleep of his life.