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Chapter Text

It only took Harry two hours to start regretting his decision to be sorted into Gryffindor. His roommates were just loud and boisterous, well, aside from Neville that was. Of course he ignored the feeling, there were plenty of nice things about Gryffindor after all. However, as the weeks went on Harry became more and more convinced that he had made the wrong decision.

It turned out that Hogwarts wasn’t much different from the Dursleys. He still wasn’t allowed to get good grades (Ron, and then later Hermione, hated it), he still wasn’t allowed to make friends (Ron got jealous if Harry talked to anyone besides himself), he still wasn’t allowed to do what he wanted (Ron always wanted him to play chess with him – and then got mad if Harry beat him), and he still wasn’t able to eat much (mostly because watching Ron eat destroyed Harry’s appetite).

Ron reminded Harry a lot of Dudley, more so than Malfoy had in the robes shop. He seemed just as used to getting what he wanted, and he had decided that he wanted Harry as his friend.

Harry had tried to distance himself from the other boy, tried talking to other people, but he soon realised that the Gryffindors had an image in their heads of who the boy-who-lived was (an image that somehow included being Ron’s friend) and they didn’t like it when Harry went off script.

So Harry played along. He created a mask, his Gryffindor persona, and wore it without fail. He played chess with Ron, joined the Quidditch team, saved Hermione from the troll, got decidedly average grades, and even confronted Quirrell at the end of the year.

But when nobody was looking, Harry studied. He convinced Ron that he was one of those people who needed lots of sleep and so would retire to his bed hours earlier than the rest of his dorm mates and study behind his curtains long after they eventually went to bed.

At first he just studied his course books. It was something he had learnt growing up – even if he wasn’t able to get good grades, no one could stop him from secretly knowing all the right answers anyway.

After a few months, when he realised that no one was going to answer his questions about the wizarding world, he started studying other subjects too. He started with ‘Hogwarts: A History’, and then moved onto other history books in the Hogwarts library. There were other books about Hogwarts, as well as books about Wizarding England, Voldemort, Goblins, and even Harry – though those books got most things wrong.

Towards the end of the year, while he was obediently helping Ron and Hermione investigate the Philosophers Stone, he learnt he could actually buy books using Hedwig to order them. He sent for a catalogue and then studied the flyer carefully, circling all the books he wanted to buy.

The night of the Farewell Feast, after Dumbledore had cemented the Slytherins’ hatred of Gryffindor by awarding Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville points for their stupid and pointless adventure (after all, Quirrell would never have managed to get the stone out of the mirror – if anything, Harry being there had increased the risk of the stone being stolen), Harry crept up to the Owlery and sent Hedwig off with his order form. The books would arrive a few days after he arrived at the Dursley’s and would give him something to do over the holidays.

-

Harry could scarcely believe his luck when the ten owls, carrying a large box of books, arrived mid-morning four days later – the first morning all three of the Dursleys had been out since he got home. He thanked the birds, fed them a few pieces of bread from the pantry and then carried the books up to his room.

The rest of July was relatively uneventful, aside from the idiot house elf’s visit. Harry spent the days doing his chores and reading. He had bought a few books on wizarding culture, but most of their contents he already knew, the rest of the books contained magical theory and spells. The books were fascinating and very informative, he was looking forward to getting back to Hogwarts to try out some of the spells.

He wasn’t sure what to the think when the Weasley twins and Ron turned up to rescue him from his relatives. He supposed it was a nice thought, but on the other hand he had really been enjoying a break from Ron’s company.

The day they visited Diagon Alley, Harry feigned confusion about Floo travel and purposefully got lost – he had a few errands he wanted to run without the Weasley’s.

His first stop was Gringotts, using the Knockturn entrance, and, having bled on a piece of parchment to convince the Goblins that he was, after all Harry Potter (even if he didn’t have his key), he discovered that he was actually the Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Peverell.

Apparently in the thirteenth century the Lord of the House of Peverell had died without an heir and so the title had fallen to his younger brother, Cadmus. Cadmus had also died young, but since he had a son the title had fallen to his son. Unfortunately Cadmus’s son only had daughters and so the title was given to Cadmus’ youngest brother, Ignotus who had changed his name to Potter.

Not only that, but Harry had a godfather, who had been a death eater, and who had named him Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black. Which Harry thought was weird for many reasons including why, if Sirius Black had really been on Voldemort’s side, he would have made Harry his heir?

After finally being allowed to withdraw some money, Harry quickly made his way through the Alley searching for a bookstore. He had begun to suspect that a lot of the books in the Hogwarts Library were pretty biased. The books he had bought to read over the summer seemed less biased, which had been what had alerted him, but they only skirted around some subjects.

From what he had read about Knockturn Alley, Harry was pretty sure that, if he was right, and the Hogwarts books did have bias, then a bookstore there would most likely stock books with the opposite bias.

Harry spent barely any time in the bookstore he found, after all he didn’t want the Weasleys to send out a search party. He was only there long enough to pick up an owl-order form and buy their magical catalogue that updated itself, both of which he folded up and tucked into his jeans pocket.

It didn’t take him long to find the Weasley’s. Mrs. Weasley looked distraught and was wailing loudly about having lost Harry Potter.

The rest of the shopping trip was interesting, particularly when Mr. Malfoy ended up wrestling with Mr. Weasley in the middle of the bookstore.

Eventually the summer ended and it was time to return to return to Hogwarts. When the barrier refused to let Harry and Ron through, Ron was determined to fly his car to Hogwarts – an idea that Harry firmly squashed. He knew he would pay for it, Ron could be particularly vengeful when he was mad, but there was no way Harry was going to risk being expelled.

It only took a few minutes for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to return to their car, the Hogwarts Express having left already, and they were shocked when Ron sulkily explained the problem with the barrier. Apparently it had never happened before.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley held a whispered conversation for a few minutes before eventually agreed to side-apparate the two boys to Hogsmeade and then walk them up the Hogwarts.

Professor Snape met them at the door and with a few snappy comments dismissed the Weasleys. He took thirty points off them for thinking themselves above taking the train and then stalked away, leaving the two boys in the entrance hall with their trunks.

Ron was just as mad as Snape and blamed the loss of points on Harry. According to him, if they had flown the car they would have been able to sneak in without anyone knowing.

The first week was an uncomfortable one for Harry. The Gryffindors were all mad at Harry for the loss of points, and for his cowardly refusal to fly the car to Hogwarts. Hermione was mad because she thought he had broken the barrier on purpose. Apparently, if something wasn’t in ‘Hogwarts: A History’, it was completely impossible.

Harry visited Hagrid and managed to convince the half-giant to let him send any new books he bought to Hagrid so that his friends didn’t see them arrive. He had managed to convince the man that he was buying his friends some presents.

The plan went off without a hitch and Harry soon had plenty of books to read, many of which were quite old. Apparently the catalogue was self-updating and included all the second hand books that the bookstore sold.

The first book, Harry read from Knockturn Alley was about the Ancient and Noble Houses. According to Gringotts, Harry was the Heir to two of the Houses – but he had no idea what that meant.

According to the book there were thirteen Ancient and Noble Houses: The House of Black, The House of Bones, The House of Greengrass, The House of Gryffindor, The House of Hufflepuff, The House of Lestrange, The House of Odgen, The House of Orpington, The House of Peverell (Also known as The House of Potter), The House of Prince, The House of Ravenclaw, The House of Rosier, and The House of Slytherin.

Apparently the Ancient and Noble Houses sometimes sponsored another House through a process to make them a Noble House. It seemed like a really complicated process, and involved the Noble family swearing seven generations of fealty to the Ancient and Noble House who had sponsored them.

After Harry had finished the book on Ancient and Noble Houses, he began reading the oldest looking one that he had bought. It was about the history of Hogwarts, (the fourth book Harry had read on the topic) but it told a very different story – proving Harry’s bias theory.

The book was amazing and Harry could barely put it down, however the best part of the book was on page three hundred and forty two. That was the page that finally gave Harry hope – hope that he wouldn’t have to spend the rest of his time at Hogwarts pretending to be the Gryffindor golden boy and being ostracized every time his housemates thought he wasn’t being appropriately Gryffindorish.

Apparently the sorting hat had a sort of redo button. Any third year who was unhappy with their sorting could, at the beginning of the year, ask to be resorted. All he would have to do was stand up and, in a loud voice, recite a long paragraph in Latin.

It was the best news he’d had since discovering he was a wizard.

Harry wasn’t stupid. He knew that just being in Slytherin wouldn’t made all his problems go away. If anything things were likely to get worse for him. After all, the Slytherins hated him and the rest of the school was likely to decide that he had turned evil, but the sorting hat had told him that Slytherin would make him great. And he wanted to be great. He wanted to prove to the world that he was more than the boy-who-lived – a child famous for accidently killing Voldemort.

He refused to spend the rest of his life as the boy-who-lived, who looked like his father, but had his mother’s eyes. He wanted to be known for being him. He was sick of people looking at him like he was their favourite comic book hero come to life, he wanted people to look at him like they looked at Dumbledore, as though he was someone who had power and should be respected.

-

Chapter Text

Harry ran through the corridor his heart beating in his chest. Of all times for McGonagall to decide that she wanted to care about his health it had to be today. The only day he could escape from the Gryffindors.

McGonagall had called him and Hermione to her office and then, after having Pomfrey look him over, had asked him to wait outside.

Yeah right. Like he was going to waste the opportunity to be resorted by waiting for Hermione.

He ran into the entrance hall and then slowed down slightly, entering the Great Hall at a quick walk, before breathing a sigh of relief. There were still five first years to be sorted.

Harry considered moving to the Gryffindor table while he waited, but decided not to bother. The remaining first years would only take a few minutes to sort.

When the last first year was sorted Harry clenched his fists and took a deep breath. This was it.

He began to walk down the hall, towards the head table, ignoring the fact that the whole school seemed to be staring at him.

Harry took another deep breath and then began his recitation.

“Hogwarts auctorum traditionibus Scholam Witchcraft set et quatuor magnis Wizardry ego Iacobus Cicero Potter, antiquissimae Heres Peverell et nobilis domus, et nobilis domus Antiquissima Heres Niger, alterum peto diribitio.”

By the time he had finished, Harry was standing in front of the sorting hat and a gaping Flitwick.

“I told you so.” The sorting hat told smugly.

“Harry, my boy.” Dumbledore had stood up. “What are you doing?”

“I am requesting a resorting, Headmaster.” Harry explained loudly and smirked slightly when the Gryffindor table cried out in outrage.

Dumbledore looked shaken, but then seemed to recover. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, my boy. Once the sorting hat sorts you, that’s it.”

“Rubbish.” The Sorting Hat snorted loudly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Albus. A third year student is perfectly able to request a resorting, haven’t you read the original school charter?”

“Uh,” Dumbledore was frowning now. “Not the original charter, I’ll admit…”

“Well then.” The sorting hat interrupted Dumbledore smoothly. “There is your problem. Clause sixty seven of the original school charter clearly states that any student may request to be sorted at the start of his third year.”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that.” Dumbledore said firmly. “Harry was sorted into Gryffindor and that is where he belongs.”

“You can’t allow it?” The sorting hat asked with an incredulous voice. “You can’t stop it, Headmaster. You swore an oath to uphold the school charter when you became headmaster.”

Dumbledore was silent for a moment, before turning to Harry. “Harry, my boy. I’m sure if you think about it, you’ll find you don’t really want to do this.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure I do, Headmaster.”

Dumbledore’s eyes were sparkling angrily and Harry winced when a sudden headache struck him. He slammed his eyes shut and tried to clear his mind as he had been practising since he had read about Occlumency and Legilimency the year before. What in Merlin’s name was Dumbledore trying to achieve?

“Enough.” The sorting hat snapped grumpily. “Come on, Mr. Potter. Put me on.”

Harry opened his eyes and, avoiding Dumbledore’s gaze, picked up the hat and put it on.

“Well, well, well, Mr. Potter.” The hat sounded smug. “I hate to say I told you so, but…”

“Yes, you were right.” Harry sighed. “You did tell me I would do well in Gryffindor though.”

“No, I didn’t.” The sorting hat denied. “I told you that you would do well in Slytherin. You decided that you wanted to be a Gryffindor.”

Harry sighed. “You could have put me in Ravenclaw.”

The hat chuckled darkly. “True, but then I doubt you would have asked to be resorted.”

“You planned this?” Harry asked incredulously. “How did you know I would find out about this?”

“I didn’t.” The hat was still sounding smug. “But I thought it was worth the risk.”

“The risk of me being bloody miserable for seven years?” Harry snapped.

“You are brave you know.” The sorting hat defended itself. “And loyal, at least, you will be when you have someone you want to be loyal to. Besides, you did figure it out and here you are. Stop complaining and let me sort you into…SLYTHERIN.”

Harry pulled the hat off and tried not to enjoy the horrified expressions on the majority of the school’s face. Both the Gryffindors and the Slytherins looked as though the world was ending.

“What?” Ron recovered first and stood up with a snarl. “What the bloody hell, Harry?”

Harry ignored him as he handed the hat to Flitwick and began moving towards the Slytherin table. The Slytherins were all looking suspiciously blank faced as Harry sat down beside the newly sorted first years. Apparently they had all recovered from their shock enough to reapply their masks.

It took Dumbledore a few minutes to restore order amongst the Gryffindors, a process that Harry watched with a blank face that equalled his new housemates.

After the Gryffindor table was finally quiet, partly due to a few silencing charms, Dumbledore stood up and, with much less joy than usual, announced that Dementors would be guarding the school.

Harry carefully hid his wince and determined that the first thing he would do the next day was find a spell that could protect him from them. He could hardly go around fainting all the time.

Dumbledore then introduced Lupin and Hagrid as the new Professors before allowing them to eat.

Harry was completely ignored during dinner, which neither surprised nor disappointed him. He ate his food, thankful that he no longer had to watch Ron eat every mealtime and then looked up towards the head table.

Dumbledore and McGonagall were whispering together, both looking as though they had swallowed a lemon. Hagrid looked just as horrified as the Gryffindors, Flitwick and Sprout looked confused, and Snape was taking turns glaring at Harry and Professor Lupin – as though he couldn’t decide which of them he hated more.

Harry wasn’t too surprised to see Snape’s animosity towards Lupin. He knew, from one of the books he had read about himself, that Lupin had been friends with his Father, and Harry had long since figured out that Snape’s hatred of him was, at least partly, due to something his father had done. Snape’s repeated comments about how Harry was ‘just like his father’ had given that away.

When it was time to leave for their Common Rooms, Harry followed the other Slytherins down to the dungeons in silent amusement. He wondered how they would react if they knew that he already knew where the Slytherin Dungeon was?

Harry was the last student through the stone doorway and he wasn’t surprised to see the entire house, a few first years excluded, glaring at him with a mixture between hatred and horror.

“Potter!” Snape was there too, and his glare was no less intense than the students.

“Yes, Professor?” Harry asked, his face carefully blank.

He’d had a year to plan this moment. A year to watch the Slytherins and study their behaviour, a year to read every book he could find on Slytherin House (not that there were many), and had decided that the best thing to do was to present a completely emotionless front.

“With me.”

Harry followed the professor through a portrait of a woman with a large snake around her neck. The woman was sneering at him, but Harry was most interested by the snake. He had never seen one in a portrait before and wondered whether he could talk to it in parseltongue.

Snape led him into a room that was obviously the professor’s office, if the desk and bookcases were anything to go for and then spun around in obvious fury.

For a moment Harry thought the man was going to hit him and barely managed to contain his flinch.

“Potter!” Snape snarled. “What do you think you’re playing at?”

Gryffindor Harry, the one who Harry had been pretending to be for the last two years would have made a smart comment, and Harry felt a burst of relief. Admittedly he was now in a house where everyone loathed him, but at least he didn’t have to pretend anymore.

“I’m not playing, Professor.” Harry said firmly. “The sorting hat tried to put me in Slytherin in first year, but I had naively listened to some people who were biased against Slytherin and wouldn’t let it. By the time I realised my mistake it was too late.”

Snape was still glaring at him with loathing. “Detention, Potter.”

Harry sighed inwardly as he dipped his head slightly in respect to his new Head of House. “Yes, sir.”

Snape waited a while, presumably waiting for Harry to throw a tantrum, before sneering. “Two weeks detention, starting tomorrow night.”

Harry dipped his head again. “Yes, sir.”

Snape considered him for a moment before sweeping back into the Slytherin Dungeon. “Follow.”

The Slytherins were standing mostly in year groups, only slightly muddled. There were a few fifth years near the seventh years and a few sixth years near the fourth years. Malfoy, along with Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle were near between the fifth and sixth years, but the other third years were between the second and fourth years.

It wouldn’t have made much sense, except that Harry recognised the group of students, made up of fifth, sixth and seventh years at the far end of the line. They were the Slytherin Court and a step in front of them stood the currently Slytherin Lord – Uriel Burke. Which meant that the Slytherins were probably all arranged according to their place in the hierarchy.

Harry had done a lot of research on Burke, on all the Court if he was going to honest about it. Only a few of them had Death Eater ties, and Burke wasn’t one of them. They were all members of Noble Houses and seemed to be decidedly neutral, opposing Dumbledore and Voldemort alike. Except, being Slytherins, they weren’t so much opposing the two powers as taking advantage of the fall out.

Ignoring the Slytherins in front of him, Harry moved to stand away from the group, leaning against the wall beside a portrait of a basilisk.

Snape sneered at him and for a moment Harry thought Snape might order him to stand with the other students. Something that was definitely not on his list of things to do. He refused to place himself at the bottom of the hierarchy with the first years.

Thankfully, Snape soon turned his attention to the first year students. “Welcome to Slytherin, first years. The House of Slytherin is a proud and traditional house and as such is run differently to other houses here at Hogwarts. You will not disappoint us.”

Harry noticed a few of the first years flinch in terror at the glare Snape shot them.

“The foundational principle that Slytherin is built on is unity.” Snape continued. “Outside these walls we are united without fail. However, you will find that within the walls of the Slytherin Dungeon I much more lenient than most professors.”

Harry raised an eyebrow in amusement as Snape looked pointedly at where he was leaning casually. He hadn’t expected that. Sure he knew that Snape hated him, but he hadn’t expected the man to practically give his housemates permission to attack him.

“Each first year will be assigned an upperclassman to show them around.” Snape continued, his gaze having returned to the first years.

Snape’s speech continued for a few more minutes before he swept out of the dungeon, his robes billowing behind him.

As one the students turned to stare at Harry.

Harry ignored most of them, focussing his attention on Burke. “Nice place you have here. Very cosy. I particularly like all the snakes.”

“Shut up, Potter.” Malfoy snapped at him. “No one invited you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and moved his attention down the line of the students to Malfoy.

“Interesting, I seem to remember receiving the same invitation you did. I’m a little late to the party I’ll admit.” Harry shrugged nonchalantly. “But then they say that a wizard changes a lot between the ages of eleven and thirteen. Aren’t you concerned that perhaps, like me, you’ve changed over the years? You are sounding distinctly Gryffindorish, speaking out of turn.”

Harry smirked slightly as Malfoy flushed angrily and turned his gaze back to Burke who was staring at him coolly. “Regardless, I like the snakes. Always nice to have someone intelligent to talk to.”

Burke ignored the other Slytherins whispered reactions to the reminder of Harry’s parselmouth abilities and seemed to consider Harry for a moment before speaking. “Nott, Zabini, show Potter to your dorm. First years, with me.”

Harry watched as Burke led his court, and the trailing first years, to an elaborately carved set of couches and chair in the centre of room. Before turning expectedly to Nott and Zabini, carefully hiding his satisfied smirk – he’d just survived his first Slytherin power play and won.

Nott and Zabini were silent as they lead Harry to a room that looked similar to the Gryffindor dorm, except with different colour schemes. Harry looked around and found his trunk at the end of the bed furthest from the door and nodded with satisfaction.

“So, Potter,” Zabini drawled slowly. “Aren’t you worried you might accidently strangle yourself in your sleep this year?”

Harry turned to the two boys casually. “Oh, every night.” He smirked. “But with the lord of one of my houses on the loose and trying to kill me, I try not to worry about insignificant threats.”

Nott and Zabini looked at him blankly and Harry nearly rolled his eyes. It was a little embarrassing how transparent his year mates were. Weren’t Slytherins supposed to be sneaky?

He wondered what had confused them. Did they not know that Black was after him? Or did they not realise that he was the Heir to the House of Black? Surely it couldn’t be the latter, Harry had declared it in his request to be resorted – in Latin admittedly, but they were purebloods. Maybe they just hadn’t expected him to dismiss their barely veiled threat.

The three boys stared at each other silently for a while, before Nott and Zabini left – presumably to report what had happened.

Harry moved swiftly to his trunk and pressed his thumb against the lock to open it. Then he pulled out his book on parselmagic.

One did not simply walk into the Slytherin Dorms and expect to get through the night alive, Harry knew that. And he had spent the last year preparing for this – including purchasing a brand new trunk with advanced blood wards. Only Harry’s blood, willing given, would open the trunk.

He had found the parselmagic book purely by luck. It had appeared in his book catalogue the year before and Harry had bought it as quickly as he could. The best thing about parselmagic was that it could only be shielded against and broken by another parselmouth, which made it perfect for placing protection spells around his bed.

He finished placing the spells within ten minutes and was lying on his bed reading another book, this one on Arithmancy, when Malfoy entered the room, the rest of the third year boys trailing behind him.

Harry lowered his book slightly to take in the sight of his new housemates standing near the door, before returning to his book. It was the first book he had read on Arithmancy and it was really interesting.

“Potter!”

Harry looked up and stared at Malfoy. The other boy was sneering disdainfully at him.

“Malfoy.” He returned and waited for the blond wizard to speak. When Malfoy didn’t say anything, Harry went back to his book.

“Don’t ignore me!” Malfoy snarled at him, stomping across dorm room.

“Me? Ignore you?” Harry asked in mock confusion. “But you weren’t saying anything.”

Malfoy stood at the side of Harry’s bed and glared down at him. “You won’t last the night.”

Harry put down his book and gave Malfoy his full attention. “Want to bet?”

Malfoy’s face was beginning to go red. “Why should I? No point betting with a dead man.”

“No,” Harry shook his head in a considering fashion. “I suppose that’s true.”

“You should have stayed with the Gryffindorks.” Malfoy told him with a victorious smirk

Harry lay down again and picked up his book. “Thank you for your concern, Malfoy. I’m touched.”

Malfoy just sneered at him and stalked back across the room

Harry observed them over his book for a few minutes before going back to ignoring them. Malfoy would have probably made a really good Gryffindor if it wasn’t for his politics – the other boy was certainly brash.

-

Harry woke up to the sound of people whispering loudly. He fumbled for his wand and cast Tempus under his breath. It was three in the morning. He was surprised they had waited that long.

“What is taking you so long?” One voice asked, obviously annoyed.

“There’s some kind of spell.” A female voice snapped icily. “Some kind of shield.”

“Let me try.” A vaguely familiar voice growled.

“What the hell do you think you’re going to do, Flint?” The girl asked angrily, which explained why Harry had recognised the third voice. He had certainly heard the Quidditch Captain yelling a lot in games.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know.” The girl snapped. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Rowle.” The first voice returned. “He’s a third year. He won’t even know how to cast Protego, how in Merlin’s name would he know how to put a protection spell.”

“You try then, Travers.”

There was a rustling sound before the first voice, apparently named Travers, spoke again. “The curtains feel as though they’re made of marble.”

“Why don’t we just blow our way through.” Flint grumbled.

“Subtle.” The girl, Rowle, snorted delicately. “Because then no one would suspect foul play.”

Harry snorted. “Yeah, because so far you lot have been really sneaky.”

“Awake are you, Potter?” Flint growled.

“No, Flint, of course not.” Harry drawled sarcastically. “I’m talking in my sleep.”

“Don’t you get sarcastic with me, Potter!” Flint snarled.

“Or what?” Harry asked curiously. “You’ll blow up my bed?”

“Nice spell you’ve got here, Potter.” Travers put in.

“You didn’t think I’d sleep in the Slytherin Dorms unprotected did you?” Harry asked lightly.

“You were expecting to be Slytherin then?” Malfoy’s voice asked.

“Shut up, Malfoy.” Travers snapped.

“Not at all, Malfoy.” Harry replied. “I was worried I might be Hufflepuff though, bloody scary those ‘puffs.”

“Sarcastic little blood traitor, aren’t you, Potter?” Flint’s tone was particularly unpleasant.

“Blood traitor?” Harry asked in mock surprise. “Is that what I am?”

“What do you think, Potter.” Malfoy sounded angry. “Befriending mudbloods, acting like…”

“Shut up, Malfoy.”  Travers interrupted with a snarl.

“No, no,” Harry argued. “Don’t stop him. He was on a roll. I am curious though. What exactly do you think define a blood traitor? Because I suspect we have very different definitions.”

“Someone who befriends mudbloods and…” Malfoy broke of a yelp as one of the older students apparently decided to curse him.

Harry chuckled lowly. “If you don’t mind, I’m going back to sleep now. Have fun.”

He picked up his wand and cast a charm around his head to block out the noise the other students were making. Then he rolled over and went back to sleep.

Chapter Text

The next time Harry woke up it was five thirty in the morning and, having removed the silencing spell, he sat up and listen for any sounds. When he didn’t hear anything he cautiously opened his bed curtains and looked around. Other than his dorm mates, who were still asleep, the room was empty.

Not willing to risk being cursed by a spell the older students had left behind in revenge, Harry whispered a parseltongue spell that made all magic light up brightly – visible only to the caster. The problem with using the spell at Hogwarts was that the whole building was magically and Harry’s eyes watered at the bright lights that were suddenly surrounding him.

Harry blinked away the tears and then looked around. There was a reddish glow on the floor circling his bed and a greenish blue glow on his trunk. Harry grabbed his wand and leapt lightly off his bed and onto the floor beyond the red glow before standing in front of his trunk. He wasn’t sure what to do about the greenish blue glowing spell on his trunk, curse breaking wasn’t something he knew much about, so he pulled off his pyjama top and dropped it onto reddish glow.

Harry leapt back in surprise as his pyjama top burst into flames and he shuddered what might have happened if he had unknowingly touched it himself. He waited until the flames died down and then sighed in relief when he saw that the reddish glow had disappeared.

Harry, shivering in the cold air, brought up his wand and took a few minutes to place the same parselmagic spell on his trunk as one of the ones on his bed – specifically the one that had prevented the older Slytherins from leaving a curse on his curtains.

Harry opened his trunk and pulled out the parchment he had been using to record all information he had collected on the Ancient and Noble Houses and Noble Houses in England. He still had a lot to learn – there were a lot of them – but between all the books he read, conversations he overheard, and the gossip magazine he had taken to reading for this very purpose, he had gathered a lot of information.

Harry returned to his bed and closed the curtains behind him. Then he looked up the names of the three Slytherins who had tried to attack him the night before. Five minutes later, Harry could hardly believe his luck! Of the all the students to have tried to attack him, that it was Travers, Flint and Rowle. Two of them were from Noble Houses and their parents would be horrified to find out that their children had attempted to attack an Heir to an Ancient and Noble House. Oh, the blackmail material he had just gained! What had they been thinking?

That done, Harry grabbed his shower things out of his trunk and made his way to the bathroom.

The bathroom was thankfully empty and Harry showered as quickly as he could, anxious not to be caught wet, naked, and without his glasses by his new house mates. It had been one of the positives of Gryffindor he decided, the ability to shower without the fear of being assassinated.

The Slytherin Dungeon was empty, probably due to the fact that it wasn’t even six yet, and Harry took the opportunity to look around.

The walls and ceiling were made of rough stone, which gave the room a definite dungeon feel. As did the greenish lamps hanging from chains and the stiff looking high-back chairs. The fire was already burning, but there was a chill to the air. The portraits scattered throughout the room all looked dignified and many of them had snakes in them.

Harry stood in front of a portrait of a stern looking wizard with a large snake draped across his knees and focussed on the snake.

: Good morning: Harry greeted the snake.

Both the wizard and the snake looked at him sharply.

: A speaker!: The snake exclaimed. : Master, he is a speaker.:

: So it seems.: The wizard replied to the snake absently as he studied Harry. : What is your name, young slytherin?:

:Hadrian Potter, Heir to the Ancient and Noble Houses of Peverall and Black.: Harry replied with a shallow bow. : May I ask your names?:

:I am Sangui.: The snake hissed.

: And I am Lord Celeborn Lestrange, former Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Lestrange.: The wizard introduced himself.

Harry bowed lower. : It is an honour to make your acquaintance, my lord.:

:Hmmm.: Lord Lestrange studied him. : You were the student who was resorted, are you not? The Gryffindor.:

:I am, my lord.: Harry smirked slightly at the way the portrait spat the word Gryffindor. :Though I hope you won’t hold my past mistakes against me.:

: We shall see.: Lestrange sneered at him. : How is it that you are a speaker?:

:I don’t know, my lord.: Harry admitted.

Lestrange just sneered at him again.

Harry bowed to the portrait again before turning and leaving the Dungeon. He didn’t want to end up duelling one of his new housemates at this time in the morning. He needed more information about the other students first, besides there wouldn’t be nearly enough witnesses.

He pulled his invisibility cloak out of this pocket and threw it over himself, before beginning the trek up to the third floor girl’s bathroom. Thankfully Myrtle wasn’t there and Harry was able to open the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets without witnesses.

Harry jumped down the hole and winced as he landed on the floor. Next time he would use a cushioning charm, or maybe come up with a more efficient way to enter. Surely Slytherin hadn’t jumped down the hole every time he wanted to visit the chamber.

: Close.: Harry hissed up to the entrance and was relieved to see the hole close.

Casting ‘lumos’, Harry made his way through the passages until he came to the large chamber that contained the basilisk corpse. He couldn’t help but shudder when he saw it again. He’d forgotten how big it was. Thankfully the corpse wasn’t decomposed, unsurprisingly considering what he knew about basilisks, and Harry studied it closely. He wanted to harvest it for potions ingredients, but he had no idea how to go about it. There wasn’t any hurry, basilisk corpses lasted years before decomposition started.

Turning his attention away from the basilisk, Harry looked over the chamber carefully. In some ways it was similar to the Slytherin Dungeon, with rough stone walls and ceiling, but the ceiling was much higher. Other than the face of Slytherin, through which Riddle had called the basilisk the year before, the chamber was completely bare.

Harry sighed in frustration, he’d been hoping there would be something interesting down here. A library maybe, or a portrait he could talk to. Had Slytherin really only used the chamber as a pet house?

“Hello?” Harry called out.

“Hello, hello, hello, hello, hello, he…” The noise echoed off the stone walls.

: Hello?: Harry tried again, this time in parseltongue.

: Hello, hello, hello, hello, hello, he …: The noise echoed again.

: Who enters my chamber?: A gravelly voice replied once the echoing had stopped.

Harry looked around, trying to find the source of the voice. : I am Hadrian Potter, Heir to the Ancient and Noble Houses of Potter and Black.: He replied loudly.

: How did you find this place?: The voice asked.

: I found it earlier this year.: Harry answered slowly. : The basilisk was attacking students, I came down to stop her.:

The voice was silent for a while before speaking. :You are the one who killed my basilisk?:

Harry grimaced. : Yes, my lord.:

:Tell me what happened.: The voice commanded him.

: Weren’t you there?: Harry asked in confusion.

: Insolent child.: The voice snarled. : Do as I say!:

: The basilisk kept attacking students.: Harry started obediently. : No one died, but students were petrified. People were talking about closing the school. Then a little girl was taken and a message was left saying that she was down here. The little girl’s older brother asked me to help, and so we came down here looking for her.:

:How foolhardy.: The voice sneered at him. : You would never have been in my house.:

Harry smirked. : I was in Gryffindor.: He admitted. :But I was playing a role, I have been resorted into Slytherin.:

:Then you are thirteen!: Slytherin’s voice sounded startled. : How did a mere thirteen year old defeat my basilisk?:

:I was twelve.: Harry told him. : When I found the chamber there was another boy here. He said he was a memory stored in a diary, and he had been possessing the girl who was taken. Then he set the basilisk on me.:

:And you killed her.: Slytherin finished for him.

: Yeah, sorry.: Harry winced. : It was either her or me.:

:How did you kill her?:

:I stabbed her through the mouth with Gryffindor’s sword.: Harry answered. : One of her teeth got stuck in my arm, but the headmaster’s phoenix healed me with its tears. I’m sorry for your loss, my lord.:

:You say you were resorted?: Slytherin asked after a minute of silence . :Why?:

:The first time I was sorted the sorting hat told me I would do well in Slytherin, but I requested not to be placed there. I was raised by muggles and I had only heard bad things about Slytherin.: Harry explained. : So I ended up in Gryffindor, but it didn’t suit me. So I spent a lot of time reading and eventually found out that I could ask to be resorted. I’ve been preparing for a year now and last night I was resorted into Slytherin.:

:Do you know who I am?: Slytherin asked in his gravelly voice.

:Yes, my lord.: Harry bowed, just in case the voice could see him. :You are Lord Slytherin.:

Slytherin chuckled darkly. :Indeed.:

:May I ask a question, my lord?: Harry asked after a moment.

:You may ask one question.:

Harry considered his question carefully. There were so many things he wanted to ask. He wanted to know why Slytherin hadn’t seen him kill the basilisk, he wanted to know whether there was a library in the Chamber of Secrets, and he wanted advice on how to earn the Slytherins’ respect. After a few minutes Harry made up his mind.

:May I come and visit you, my lord?: Harry asked carefully.

Slytherin chuckled darkly. :That depends, young Potter. Will you be replacing my basilisk?:

:I am unsure how I would do that, my lord.: Harry admitted. : I have no idea where I would buy one.:

Slytherin snorted. : One does not buy a basilisk, boy. A basilisk is created. Next time you visit my chamber bring a cockerel and a serpent egg.:

Harry grimaced, where on earth would he find a serpent egg? : Any particular kind of serpent egg, my lord?:

:No.: Slytherin replied. : Now leave me.:

:Yes, my lord.: Harry bowed again before walking across the chamber towards the exit.

: Where are you going?: Slytherin asked harshly.

: The only exit I know of is this way.: Harry explained. : Is there another entrance, my lord?:

:Magicae uellet.: Slytherin intoned.

Harry stared as a passage appeared in the stone wall. : That’s brilliant. Where does it go?:

: Be gone.: Slytherin snapped.

Harry bowed again and then, casting ‘lumos’, quickly walked down the nearly appeared passage. The passage was windy and soon Harry was walking uphill. After a few minutes the passage reached a dead end and Harry reached out and touched the stone wall.

: Open.: Harry tried and was relieved when the wall opened up to show a dark corridor.

Harry stepped into the corridor and closed the passage behind him before looking around. He had no idea where he was, the only identifying feature he could see was a long snake carved into the wall.

-

It took Harry three wrong turns to find a familiar corridor. The entrance to the chamber was on the same floor as the Slytherin Dungeon and Harry was relieved to realise he would easily be able to find it again.

The Great Hall was still mostly empty when Harry got there and Harry found himself a seat, with his back to the wall, far away from the other Slytherins. He helped himself to breakfast and then ate slowly, observing the other students in the room. Apparently he was the hot topic for conversation, and the other students were alternating between whispering amongst their friends and staring at him.

Slowly more students began trickling in and joining their friends in staring at Harry. The Slytherins ignored him, choosing seats that were as far away from him as possible.

Harry was interested to see how the Slytherins dealt with him in public. The night before, Snape had ordered them to appear united, but would they do it?

Ten minutes later the Slytherin table was at least three quarters full, but the seats around Harry were completely empty. So much for Slytherin unity. The Gryffindors were all glaring at him, though none of them had come across to confront him yet. They were probably planning to leave it up to Ron and Hermione, neither of whom had appeared yet.

“Potter.” Nott greeted him as he and Zabini slid into seats opposite Harry.

“Nott.” Harry nodded his greeting. “Zabini.”

Zabini nodded stiffly as he sat beside his friend.

Harry sipped from his goblet as he watched them. He’d never had a chance to observe the Slytherins so closely before and he was disappointed to realise just how unconvincing their ‘Slytherin Masks’ were up close. From a distance they’d always seemed so expressionless, but as he watched them he could see their disdain for him peeking through.

They’d probably been ordered to sit near him to show the rest of the school a unified front. Harry watched them as they ate and wondered whether he should try anything with them yet.

He had a plan, sort of. It was more of a goal really, he wanted to reach the top of the Slytherin Hierarchy by the end of the year. He knew he could do it, he had the noble title, money, magical power, and political influence, but he needed to play his cards right. He needed to prove to them that he wasn’t some Gryffindor blood traitor. He would be Lord Potter, Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, previously Peverell, in two years, and he was the Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black beside that. Which, seeing as there were only eight Ancient and Noble Houses still extant, was pretty damn impressive.

“Harry!” Hermione’s voice screeched across the hall.

Harry hid a grimace as he watched Ron and Hermione practically run across the hall towards him.

“Harry! How could you?” Hermione shrieked when she within a few meters of him. “What were you thinking? A resorting? It’s completely impossible! There’s nothing in ‘Hogwarts: A History’ about being resorted!”

“Who cares about that?” Ron growled from his place beside her. “Slytherin, Harry? How could you go and become a slimy snake? You, you, evil git!”

“And how could you do this without telling us?” Hermione started the instant Ron had finished. “I thought we were friends! Why would you even want to be resorted and leave Gryffindor?”

“I should have known.” Ron continued. “You’re a parselmouth! Everyone knows they’re evil!”

“I hope you don’t think I’ll help you with your homework now!” Hermione exclaimed. “Without my help you’ll fail all your classes!”

“Are you done?” Harry asked coldly, ignoring the hundreds of pairs of eyes staring at them.

“No!” Ron exploded. “You lied to me. All that time you were pretending…”

Harry pulled out his wand and cast a silencing spell on his former friend. “Actually I don’t care if you’re done or not…”

“Harry!” Hermione interrupted with a shriek. “You can’t do that! No casting magic outside class. You know that!”

Harry silenced her as well. “Honestly, Hermione, I don’t care. I hated Gryffindor and, to be honest, I’m not a huge fan of either of you. I played my part: golden Gryffindor, brave and stupid boy-who-lived, but that’s over now. I escaped, thank merlin! Now bugger off and leave me alone.”

Ron’s face was red with rage and he snarled silently at Harry before grabbing Hermione’s arm and dragging her back to the Gryffindor table.

Harry turned back to the table and eyed Nott and Zabini coldly. “Anything to say?”

Both boys stared at him for a moment before shaking their heads and returning to their breakfast.

“Mr. Potter!” McGonagall was striding towards him. “I can hardly believe my eyes. Thirty points from Slytherin for verbally and magically attacking your fellow students. Your parents would be very disappointed in you!”

Harry eyed her coldly.

McGonagall glared at him. “Ten points for disrespect! You will answer me when I speak to you.”

“Yes, professor.” Harry kept his sneer hidden beneath a blank expression. How dare she? He had known that she would be angry by his resorting, not that he cared, but for her to bring up his parents like that. He tightened his hand around his wand before returning the wand to his wrist holster.

Nott and Zabini were staring at him in confusion and Harry sneered at them, his distain growing as they quickly looked away. They were hardly any better at hiding their emotions than the Gryffindors.

The owl post arrived a few minutes later and Harry was pleased to see Hedwig’s white feathers amongst the flurry. Hedwig landed on his shoulder and held out her food for Harry to take the attached envelope.

Harry glanced at the envelope, pleased to see that it carried the Gringott’s seal, and fed Hedwig some owl treats from his pocket. He had started carrying them around with him after having read how bad bacon and sausages were for owls.

Hedwig nibbled gently at Harry’s ear as he opened the envelope and unfolded the first piece of parchment.

Mr. Hadrian Potter, Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black.

In response to your request for information, please find enclosed the relevant documentation.

Sincerely,

Martha Fawley

Gringotts Inquiries Department

Harry kept his face blank even as he inwardly grinned, he’d been hoping to hear back from them soon. It had been over a week since he had sent off the request. Harry scanned the documents that the bank had sent him before returning them to the envelope. It was good news – Gringotts would be able to confidentially pass a message from Harry to Lord Black, for a fee of course. Of course it would only work if his godfather decided to contact Gringotts, but it did give Harry some options.

He was had been doubting Lord Black’s guilt since the summer before his second year, when he had discovered that the man who had apparently betrayed him to Voldemort had made Harry his heir. It just didn’t make sense. But he’d had more important things to worry about, like getting out of Gryffindor and being able to protect himself in Slytherin, and so had put the whole thing to the back of his mind. But now that his godfather had escaped, and was apparently out to get him, Harry wanted to find out the truth.

Harry opened his bag and pulled out a quill, inkpot and a few sheets of the correspondence parchment he had bought the year before. The parchment was embossed with the coat of arms of both the Potter and Black houses and had cost a lot.

Harry pulled his wand and subtly cast a privacy spell on the parchment to prevent anyone from reading from it, before dipping his quill in the ink.

“What are you doing?” Nott asked.

Harry lifted an eyebrow and sneered at the other boy.

Nott grimaced.

“Leave him alone.” Zabini defended his friend.

Harry turned his sneer to the other boy. “Why?”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Zabini snapped.

“I think I’m Hadrian Potter, Heir to the Ancient and Noble Houses of Peverell and Black.” Harry answered coldly. “In two years I will become Lord Peverell, and possibly Lord Black if the Dementors manage to catch up with my godfather. And you are…?”

Nott and Zabini just stared at him.

Harry sneered again before turning back to the parchment on the table in front of him.

To my Lord Black, Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black,

I, your heir, greet you. I beg of you to forgive my presumption in writing you this letter. I have been told that your lordship was the wizard who betrayed my noble parents, Lord and Lady Peverell, of the Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, to the Dark Lord Voldemort. I must admit that I have my doubts as to the veracity of these claims, particularly due to your lordship declaring me your heir.

Harry blotted the ink off the words he had written as he considered what to say next. What could he say? Either his godfather was guilty, or he wasn’t. If he was guilty then the letter was ridiculous and Lord Black would probably laugh at it, but if he was innocent Harry might have some family out there after all. And more importantly, someone who could teach him all the wizarding customs he couldn’t learn from books.

He picked up his quill again.

My lord, if you are indeed innocent of the crimes you have been accused of, I beg of you to prove your innocence to me. I beg your forgiveness again, for my presumption.

Your humble servant and heir,

Hadrian Potter

Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black

Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Peverell

Harry blotted the wet ink and read through the letter. It would have to do. Harry placed it to the side and wrote a quick note to Gringotts on another piece of parchment, requesting that they pass the letter on to Lord Black if given the opportunity.

“Writing a love letter to the mudblood, Potter?” Malfoy’s scornful voice sounded from behind him.

Harry chuckled as he collected the letters up and folded them into an envelope. “Don’t worry, Malfoy, I’m not dating Granger. No need to be jealous.”

“Jealous?” Malfoy’s voice rose and Harry knew without seeing it that the other boy’s face would be turning red. “Why would I be jealous?”

Harry sealed the envelope and handed it to Hedwig who was still perched on his shoulder. “Back from where you came please, Hedwig.”

Hedwig nibbled at his ear again before taking off.

“You mean you don’t have a crush on her?” Harry asked in mock surprise as he spun in his seat to be facing Malfoy. “My apologies for my wrong assumption, but with all the attention you give her…what was I supposed to think?”

Malfoy’s face was red. “You think that I would…that I would…with the mudblood?!”

Harry smirked in victory at having made the other boy lose composure. “As I said, Malfoy, my apologies.”

“You’re dead, Potter!” Malfoy spat, he seemed to be quivering with rage.

“So you said yesterday.” Harry’s smirk grew and he cast a silencing spell around the two of them. “And yet here I am. Just what do you think you can do to me, Malfoy? Do you really think that Ambrose Travers will be pleased to hear that his heir tried to attack me last night? Admittedly, Rowle’s father probably won’t care, but her betrothed might. It is one thing to secretly assassinate the Heir of an Ancient and Noble House, but to fail in an entirely Gryffindorish attempt – that’s just embarrassing.”

Malfoy gaped at him.

“Nothing to say?” Harry couldn’t help but taunt as he released the silencing spell. “Off you go then.”

Harry watched as Malfoy stomped away, before standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder. Ancient Runes started in ten minutes and he didn’t want to be late.

Chapter Text

Ancient Runes consisted of a test. Professor Babbling explained that it was to give her an idea of what they knew and what they didn’t. It was pretty easy to start with – probably because he’d read a quite a few books on the subject – but the questions got a lot harder towards the end.

After Ancient Runes was Transfiguration and then Charms. Nott and Zabini sat next to him during each class, except for Ancient Runes which Nott didn’t take, and they spent the time trying to sneak looks at him. By the time lunchtime came around, Harry was wishing that Slytherin didn’t have a unity rule. He’d rather be ignored than have to put up with the two boys.

Admittedly Nott and Zabini weren’t entirely useless, overhearing their conversation did let Harry in on the juicy knowledge that Malfoy had managed to get himself attacked by a hippogriff in Hagrid’s Care of Magical Creatures class. Harry wasn’t sure what Hagrid had been thinking, introducing such a dangerous creature to third years, but he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the half-giant.

His afternoon classes went similarly and by the end of it all, Harry wanted to curse someone. Not only were Nott and Zabini annoying as hell, but the Gryffindors wouldn’t leave him alone. They felt betrayed and angry and they wanted everyone, especially Harry, to know it.

His final class of the day was Defence Against the Dark Arts, which was taught by Professor Lupin. Ten minutes into the class, Harry knew that Lupin was going to be the best DADA professor they’d had. Despite the proficiency of Lupin’s teaching, Harry couldn’t help but dislike the man who had apparently been one of his father’s best friends. Where the hell had Lupin been when Harry had been growing up?

When DADA finished Harry stalked towards the Slytherin Dungeon. When he reached the stone wall entrance he snapped out the password,

“Serpentes!”

The stone wall didn’t moved and Harry sneered at it. He had to admit, it wasn’t a bad plan. By changing the password without telling him they were fighting against him without showing any disunity to the rest of the school.

Harry considered what to do, he certainly didn’t want anyone to see him standing outside the Dungeon like a lost first year. He could go to the library, but the bloody Gryffindors would probably ambush him; he could go down the Chamber of Secrets, but Slytherin had told him to bring a Cockerel and a Snake egg next time…

The thought of the Chamber gave Harry an idea and he concentrated on the idea of snakes, trying to ignore the sound of students’ voices that were moving closer.

“ Open!” He hissed and then smirked as the stone door opened.

Harry stalked into the mostly empty Dungeon and made his way across the room towards an empty desk in the corner. He knew the other Slytherins were staring at him and couldn’t help but smirk.

He moved the desk around so that chair was against the wall before sitting down. From this position he could see the entire room and he watched as the students began pouring through the doorway, before pulling out his wand and quietly casting a perimeter warning spell ten feet away from his desk. It wouldn’t help him if someone cursed him from a distance, but it would give him warning if someone was approaching. That done, Harry pulled his Transfiguration homework out of his bag and began reading the assigned chapter.

Three pages later, Harry’s perimeter spell went off and he looked up to see Flint approaching him with another wizard and a witch – both of whom Harry knew to be part of Burke’s Court. While Flint had often reminded Harry of a rugby player who had taken too many knocks to the head, the two students with him appeared to be the epitome of pureblood nobility. The witch in particularly. She was beautiful, graceful and her emotional control seemed to be flawless.

“Potter.” Flint grunted.

“Flint.” Harry leant back in his chair and raised an eyebrow in question. “Who are your companions?”

“Tadeus Travers and Alexa Rowle.” Flint answered.

“Ah,” Harry smirked looking them over. “My night visitors.”

Flint glared at him, while Travers stared stonily and Rowle’s gaze was haughty and cold.

“Malfoy told us that he spoke to you.” Flint snarled after an uncomfortable silence.

“Did he?” Harry felt very pleased with himself, this was exactly what he’d been hoping for. There was another uncomfortable silence which Harry used to put up silencing spells.

“What do you want?” Flint snarled suddenly.

Harry hummed lightly and turned to look at Travers. “Tell me, Travers, what do you think this information is worth? What do you think your Father will do if he finds out that you tried to attack me, the Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Peverell? The House your family swore fealty to?”

Travers flinched. “Potter…”

Harry ignored him, turning his attention to Rowle. “And you, Rowle. How do you expect Lord Greengrass to react to this? Do you think he will still consider you an appropriate wife for his heir?”

Rowle’s expression didn’t change much, but her composure slipped slightly. Harry turned his attention to Flint.

“Admittedly, Flint, the consequences would likely be lighter.” Harry told him. “Though perhaps not, after all I doubt you would be allowed to keep your Quidditch captaincy if it got out that you were a blood traitor.”

“A blood traitor?” Flint sneered at him. “You’re the blood traitor, Potter!”

Harry smirked as Travers and Rowle both glared at the older boy. “Have you ever looked up the term ‘blood traitor’, Flint? Because, like I told Malfoy last night, I think we have different definitions.”

Flint looked like he wanted to argue, but Travers glared at him and spoke first.

“What is it that you want, Potter?”

Harry stretched out his feet under the desk. “You never did answer my question, Travers, what is this information worth to you?”

Travers didn’t answer and Harry had to admit to himself that he enjoyed the oppressive silence that fell. The older three students obviously trying to come up with a way to get themselves out of the situation.

After a minute had passed, Harry spoke. “I want fealty oaths.”

“What?” Rowle was the first the react.

“Not a chance, Potter.” Flint followed soon after.

Harry turned to Travers to see if he had anything to say. When seventh year didn’t reply Harry continued.

“Not from your Houses,” He qualified. “Just from you, and just until you graduate.”

“No bloody way!” Flint snarled at him before stomping away.

Harry watched him go before turning his attention the two remaining seventh years. “I don’t think it’s too much to ask, do you? Considering what you have to lose.”

“You’ve got stones, Potter.” Travers told him.

“So do you.” Harry returned. “Attacking me when your family has vowed fealty to my House for the next five generations.”

Travers shook his head. “How do you even know this stuff?”

“Come now,” Harry shook his head condescendingly. “Surely you weren’t expecting me to be the same uneducated, muggle-raised, Gryffindor you’ve seen for the last two years? That idiot would never have been resorted into Slytherin.”

Travers looked faintly embarrassed.

“So, if I swear a temporary oath of fealty to you, you’ll swear never to communicate what happened to anyone?” Rowle asked curtly.

“If all three of you swear the oath, then yes.” Harry agreed.

“What happens if Flint refuses?” Travers asked calmly.

Harry thought that Travers probably had the least to lose in swearing the oath, technically he was already supposed to be Harry’s vassal. This personal oath would just make it more constrictive.

“Convince him not to.” Harry answered coldly. “And you should probably get an oath of silence out of Malfoy too.”

-

Detention with Snape was no different than usual. The professor directed him to pile of dirty cauldrons and Harry got to work. There was only one other student in detention, a second year Gryffindor who spent the entire night sending Harry betrayed looks.

There were no night visitors to Harry’s dorm that night and Harry woke up feeling particularly refreshed. As annoying as Nott, Zabini and the Gryffindors were, at least now he wasn’t having to pretend to be the ‘Gryffindor Golden Boy’ anymore.

Harry showered and then dressed, before heading down to the Slytherin Dungeon. The first thing he did was use his parselmagic book to put some spells around the desk he had been using the day before. It would be his spot, for now at least, and no one else would be able sit there.

Breakfast was much the same as the morning before. He sat by himself until Zabini and Nott arrived and then had to retrain himself from lashing out at them for their lack of subtly – they still spent most of their time staring at him out of the corners of their eyes.

Hermione and Ron confronted him again, though this time they brought some upper years to help. Apparently he was going to fail his classes without Hermione’s help, was going to be friendless without Ron’s help and was going dark. Harry didn’t even try to prevent himself from lashing out at them.

Hedwig brought him mail again, though this time there was a small black owl accompanying her. Harry retrieved the envelopes from both of them before giving them each an owl treat.

The first letter was from Dumbledore who wanted to see Harry in his office after dinner that night. The second was from Professor Babbling, asking to see Harry before Ancient Runes class that morning.

-

“Professor?” Harry called quietly as he pushed the Ancient Runes classroom door open.

“Come in, Mr. Potter.” Babbling called from her seat behind the desk

Harry stood in front of her desk. “You wanted to see me, ma’am?”

“Have a seat.” Babbling instructed him. “What experience do you have with Ancient Runes?”

“Not much, ma’am.” Harry admitted. “I’ve just read some books.”

“What books?” Babbling interrupted.

“I started by reading ‘Ancient Runes Made Easy’ by Laurenzoo,” Harry explained. “And it was really interesting, so I bought a Rune Dictionary and Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms. When I finished those I bought Spellman's Syllabary and then Blishen’s trilogy. I really enjoyed Blishen’s first book, but I found the second one really challenging and I haven’t even tried the third one yet.”

Babbling looked impressed and handed Harry a piece of parchment. Harry accepted it and realised it was the test he had taken the day before. “Your test impressed me, Mr. Potter.”

Harry looked the test over in surprise. “But I couldn’t answer the last three questions.”

“You weren’t supposed to.” Babbling told him. “You weren’t supposed to be able to answer the last ten questions. Some of your fellow students only managed to answer seven out of the thirty. The average score for the last seven years has been fifteen out of thirty. You answered twenty seven questions correctly.”

“What does that mean?” Harry asked.

“It means that my class will be of no use to you.” Babbling answered bluntly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were more advanced than my fourth year class.”

Harry swallowed down a victorious smirk, he hoped he would get to see Hermione’s face when she found out.

“You have two options, Mr. Potter.” Babbling continued. “You can join my fourth year class or I can tutor you. You have a lot of potential.”

“The second one please, Professor.” Harry answered quickly.

“I was hoping you would say that.” Babbling grinned at him. “What does your schedule look like?”

Harry dug around in his back to find his schedule and then passed it to the professor.

“Hmm,” Babbling studied the schedule carefully. “How does Monday and Thursday evenings sound to you?”

“That’s fine, Professor.” Harry nodded. “Except that I have detention with Professor Snape every night for the next two weeks.”

“Excellent.” Babbling tapped his schedule with her wand before handing it back. “I’ll talk to Professor Snape and arrange it. Be here at seven. You are no longer required to attend my class, but I expect you to use that time to study Ancient Runes on your own. In fact, I want an eleven inch essay on the relationship between Old Italic Script, Egyptian Hieroglyphics and the Elder Futhark Alphabet by Thursday night.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Harry agreed. “Do you think you could recommend some more Ancient Runes books for me to read?”

Babbling grinned at him again. “Certainly, Mr. Potter.” She picked up a quill and quickly wrote out a list on a spare piece of parchment, when she was finished she handed it to Harry. “Here, the first book is the fourth year textbook, the others are books I think you will find informative.”

“Thanks, Professor.” Harry told her as he read the list. “This looks great.”

“Off you go then, Potter.” Vector instructed. “Remember, eleven inches by Thursday.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Harry picked up his bag and left the classroom.

Some of his fellow third years were already lining up outside the classroom and when Hermione saw him she looked triumphant.

“I told you so, Harry!” Hermione told him smugly. “You’re already flunking and it’s only the second day of classes!”

Harry sneered at her in distain, but otherwise ignored her. He had better things to do than argue with her, most pressing was the essay for Babbling. He had less than three days to research and write an eleven inch essay. It was ridiculous!

3-3-3

When the bell rang signalling the end of Ancient Runes, Harry was disappointed. The essay topic that Babbling had assigned was fascinating!

They had their first Arithmancy class next, a subject that Harry was only taking because of its connection to Spell Crafting. The class was relatively interesting, though nowhere near as fascinating as Ancient Runes, though his former Ancient Runes classmates spent most of the class staring at him. Harry presumed Babbling had told them why he had dropped the class, Hermione looked furious.

The rest of the morning was uneventful, as was lunch – which Harry spent pouring over his Ancient Runes books.

After lunch was Potions and Harry couldn’t help but feel apprehensive as he lined up outside the classroom with the Slytherins and the Gryffindors. As usual the two houses were standing on opposite sides of the corridor and Harry couldn’t help but enjoy the view from the Slytherin side. He’d spent the last two years wishing that he was on that side.

The Gryffindors were muttering among themselves and sending Harry betrayed looks. The Slytherins were all stoically ignoring them.

“You cheat!” Hermione accused suddenly.

It took Harry a while to figure out that she was talking to him. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me, Harry!” Hermione snapped. “You cheated! That’s the only way you could have tested out of Ancient Runes.”

“I assure you, Granger, I did not cheat.” Harry answered calmly.

“Of course you did, you, you slimy snake!” Ron backed Hermione up. “You’re all cheats.”

The Slytherins all bristled.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Weasley.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Just because we’re smarter than you, doesn’t make us cheats. Besides, you’re one to talk. How many times have you copied Granger’s work?”

Ron and Hermione both flushed red and Ron started forward angrily. “You bloody…”

“Ten points from Gryffindor!” Snape interrupted from the suddenly open doorway.

Harry couldn’t help but smirk as he followed the Slytherins into the classroom.

“Potter, over here!” Snape snapped at him from a potion making space as far away from the Gryffindors as he could get. Then he lowered his voice so only the Slytherins would overhear. “I refuse to allow your subpar potion making abilities to affect your classmates’ grades, you will work alone.”

“Thank you, Professor.” Harry bowed his head to his Head of House.

Snape sneered at him before stalking to the front of the classroom. “Today you will be making a Girding Potion. The recipe is found on page thirteen of your textbook. Get to work.”

Harry carefully set up his cauldron and potion supplies before beginning the preparation. He couldn’t help but feel grateful to Snape, though he knew the man hadn’t been trying to do him any favours. By forcing Harry to work alone it gave him the opportunity to show the Professor just what he could do when he wasn’t hiding his abilities from the Gryffindors.

Snape had also placed him far enough away from the Gryffindors that none of them would be able to sabotage his potion, and the Slytherins wouldn’t dare – not with the Gryffindors so close. Which meant that Harry could focus all his attention on his potion and making sure that he toasted the Dragonfly Thoraxes properly, which was the most difficult part of the potion.

Harry had just the last ingredients to his potion, three flying seahorses, when Snape gave them a five minute warning. Looking around the classroom, Harry realised that most of the class were still a couple of steps behind him. Other than him, only Hermione, Malfoy, Greengrass, and Nott had a chance at finishing their potion in time.

Harry began tidying his potions area, keeping a careful watch on his potion. He needed to take it off the fire within seconds of it turning green.

In the end Harry, Malfoy and Greengrass and Hermione were the only students had managed to produce green potions – and even then Hermione’s was more of a bluish green.

Snape stared suspiciously at Harry when he submitted his potion, but didn’t say anything. Snape assigned everyone who hadn’t managed produced a green potion homework and then dismissed them as the bell rang.

“Cheat!” Seamus snarled at Harry once they were out of the classroom.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Tell me, Finnigan, how exactly do you think I cheated?”

“Snape probably helped you.” Ron snapped. “Now that you’re a slimy snake just like him.”

“I’d be quiet if I were you, Weasel.” Malfoy snapped. “You don’t have Potter to protect you anymore?”

“Harry never protected me!” Ron snarled. “I protected him!”

The Slytherins all laughed and Malfoy smirked. “Sure you did, Weasel.”

“I did!” Ron retorted.

“Come on, Ron.” Hermione interrupted, pulling at Ron’s arm. “Ignore them.”

3-3-3

After classes finished, Harry visited the library to research how to defend himself from Dementors. It took him a while to find a book that actually included instructions on how to perform the proper charm, and then he spent another ten minutes finding some extra books for his Runes Essay. He ended up borrowing four books in total, one book about Dementors and one for each of the forms of writing that Babbling had asked him to compare, and then headed back to the Slytherin Dungeon.

He had overheard one of the younger students giving the password that morning, but decided to use parseltongue anyway.

The Slytherins all stared at him as he stepped through the doorway and Harry had to fight to keep a blank expression when he saw that the only empty seat in the room was the one he had cursed that morning. He swept his eyes across the room and allowed a slight smirk when he saw that a few of the older students looked worse for wear – presumably they had fallen victim to the parseltongue magic on the chair.  

The room was silent and every eye was on him as he strode across the room and then sat proudly in the empty chair. There was a pause and then his housemates began muttering amongst themselves.

Harry pulled his Runes books, parchment and a quill out of his bag and started reading.

It was half an hour later that his proximity spell warned him that someone was approaching and Harry looked up to see Nott and Zabini.

Harry put down his quill and watched them.

“Potter.” Zabini greeted him.

Harry responded by raising an eyebrow.

“Burke wants to see you.” Zabini told him with a smirk.

“Now?” Harry asked even as he closed the book he had been reading.

“Yes.” Nott was smirking too.

Harry followed the two boys across the Dungeon to the elaborating carved couches in the centre of the room where Burke held court.

Uriel Burke was a seventh year, the Heir to the Noble House of Burke and had been the Slytherin King since Harry had been at Hogwarts. As Harry approached the couches he took the moment to try to study Burke’s court. Burke had nine students in his court, all of whom were purebloods.

There were five seventh years, Tadeus Travers and Alexa Rowle (the two seventh years who had tried to attack him), Pansy Parkinson’s older brother, Perseus, who was the Heir to the Noble House of Parkinson, a wizard named Arnold Urquart, and a stunningly beautiful witch named Amethyst Avery.

There were only two sixth years, the Heir to the Noble House of Rowle, Aleksander (Alexa’s younger brother), and Rhea Lestrange, and two fifth years, a Quidditch chaser named Cassius Warrington and the fifth year prefect Gemma Fawley.

Nott and Zabini led Harry to the centre of the couches and bowed deeply to Burke.

“Leave.” Burke ordered them coldly as he stared at Harry.

Harry bowed shallowly when the other boys had left. “Heir Burke.”

Burke raised as eyebrow. “Potter.”

“You asked to see me?” Harry asked.

“You’re causing quite the stir.” Burke commented.

Harry smirked slightly. “So it would seem.”

“Two of my court were hurt by your spell work this afternoon.” Burke continued, his face blank.

“How unfortunate.” Harry commented nonchalantly. “I’m sure they’ll live and learn from the experience.”

Harry saw Urquart and Warrington both fingering their wands angrily.

Burke chuckled darkly. “Tadeus was right, you’ve got stones, Potter.”

Warrington sneered. “You can take Potter out of Gryffindor, but you can’t take the Gryffindor out of Potter.”

Harry raised an eyebrow coldly. “You can introduce a peasant into Slytherin’s Court, but you can’t take the boorishness out of the peasant.”

“How dare you!” Warrington sprung to his feet and pointed his wand at Harry. “Aculeus!”

Harry cast a shielding charm to block and spell and chuckled. “A stinging jinx? How adorable.”

Warrington’s expression twisted. “Dolor inardescit!”

Harry’s shield charm blocked that one too. “Now that’s more like it, Warrington. Serpensortia.”

Warrington paled as a large Boa Constrictor slithered out of Harry’s wand.

Harry smirked as he instructed the snake. : Go hold that boy:

The snake did as instructed and within seconds, Warrington was almost completely hidden beneath the snake’s coils.

Harry turned his attention back to Burke. “Was there something you wanted, my lord?”

Burke smirked. “What’s to stop me from cursing you where you stand, Potter?”

“Well that depends.” Harry replied nonchalantly.

“On what?” Burke asked.

“On whether you’re a Slytherin or a Gryffindor.” Harry told him. “A Gryffindor would curse me, after all I did just attack one of your friends.”

“I’m the Slytherin King, Potter.” Burke reminded him, looking faintly amused.

“True, but then Malfoy’s supposed to be the epitome of a Slytherin and he’d curse me.” Harry retorted.

Burke sneered at the mention of Malfoy. “So tell me why I, a Slytherin shouldn’t curse you.”

“Because I’m Heir to the Ancient and Noble Houses of Peverell and Black.” Harry answered. “And in two years I’ll be Lord Peverell, and quite possibly Lord Black if my godfather manages to get himself killed. It would be unfortunate if the Heir to the Noble House of Burke was to offend two Ancient and Noble Houses before graduating Hogwarts.”

Burke chuckled lightly and bowed his head slightly in respect. “That is true, Heir Peverell.”

Harry bowed to the older boy again.

“I heard about your agreement.” Burke commented vaguely.

Harry raised an eyebrow expectantly. “Do you object?”

“Not at all.” Burke was looking amused again. “So long as you understand that their fealty to me will come first.”

“Of course.”

Burke looked towards Warrington who was still trapped inside the snake’s coils. “I presume you will release Cassius before you leave?”

Recognising the words as a dismissal, Harry bowed. “Of course, my lord.” Then he turned to the snake. :Release him:

:As you wish, speaker: The snake replied and slowly unravelled from a dishevelled and terrified looking Warrington.

Harry vanished the snake and, bowing again to Burke, returned to his desk in the corner – once again ignoring the fact that the Slytherins were all staring at him.

-

Nott and Zabini didn’t even attempt to talk to Harry at dinner that night and Harry suspected that his interaction with Burke was the reason.

After dinner was finished, Harry made his way up to Dumbledore’s office. The headmaster greeted him as usual and offered Harry a seat.

“I’m sure you know why you’re here, Mr. Potter?” Dumbledore asked, more serious than Harry had ever seen him.

“Because I was sorted into Slytherin.” Harry answered.

“Indeed.” Dumbledore sighed.

“I’m not going dark, Professor.” Harry reassured the man. “I still hate Voldemort.”

Dumbledore looked both relieved and suspicious. “But why Slytherin, my boy?”

“I didn’t choose Slytherin, sir, the Sorting Hat did.” Harry pointed out.

“Perhaps,” Dumbledore frowned. “But the decision to be resorted was yours.”

“I wasn’t happy there, Professor.” Harry explained. “The Hat tried to sort me into Slytherin in first year, but I wouldn’t listen.”

“Your friends are in Gryffindor.” Dumbledore argued and his eyes were accusing

Harry shrugged. “I’m happier in Slytherin, sir.”

Dumbledore sighed mournfully. “Very well, Mr. Potter. You may go.”

“Thank you, sir.” Harry nodded to the headmaster and left the office. What had the old man been trying to do? There was no way he could be resorted again, even if he wanted to be.

Harry sighed and began is trek down to Snape’s classroom, he wondered what Snape would have him doing for detention this time.

Chapter Text

After classes the next day Harry was sitting at his desk in the Slytherin Dungeon, researching for his Ancient Runes assignment, when Travers and Rowle approached him again.

“Potter.” Travers nodded to him.

“Travers.” Harry leant back in his chair and nodded in reply. “Rowle. Has Flint agreed?”

“No.” Travers answered. “But he will swear an oath of silence.”

Harry considered that. “Two years then.”

Travers swallowed heavily. “As you will.”

Rowle closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m getting married next August.”

“Your oath won’t affect your bond with the Greengrass Heir.” Harry assured her.

“Very well.” Rowle submitted.

“Get the oaths from Flint and Malfoy and meet me here tomorrow.” Harry instructed. “You’ll need to get an oath from Flint about the oaths as well.”

Travers and Rowle both bowed their heads to him before leaving.

-

Before breakfast the next morning, Harry led Travers and Rowle to an abandoned classroom near the Slytherin Dungeons.

“You got the oath out of Malfoy and Flint?” He asked them.

“Yes.” Travers nodded. “Shall I go first?”

“If you like.” Harry replied dispassionately.

Travers moved until he was standing in front of Harry, before dropping to one knee. He rolled up his sleeves and handed Harry his wand. Harry held the wand in his left hand and placed his right hand on Travers’ head.

“I, Tadeus Ambrose Travers, Heir to the Noble House of Travers, swear an oath of fealty to Hadrian James Potter, Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black, until such a time as I graduate from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I will be to Hadrian faithful and true, and love all that he loves, and shun all that he shuns, according to the law of magic, and according to the world's principles, and never, by will nor by force, by word nor by work, do ought of what is loathful to him; on condition that he keeps to our agreement.”

“I, Hadrian James Potter, Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black, accept the oath of fealty sworn to me by Tadeus Ambrose Travers, Heir to the Noble House of Travers. As liege lord, I will be to Tadeus fair and honourable, according to the law of magic, and according the word’s principles, and never, by will nor by force, by word nor by work, do ought of what is permanently harmful or injurious to him, nor those in his House.”

“So mote it be.” Harry and Tadeus spoke together and Harry could feel the magic swirling around them.

Harry returned Travers’ wand. “I, Hadrian James Potter, Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black, swear never to communicate the actions of Tadeus Ambrose Travers, Heir to the Noble House of Travers, on the night of September the first, nineteen, ninety three, so mote it be.”

Travers looked relieved as he stood from his kneeling position and swapped places with Rowle.

Rowle’s oath was identical to Travers’ and soon Harry was standing in a room with two sworn vassals.

“Don’t tell anyone about this.” Harry instructed them.

“Yes, my lord.” Travers and Rowle both replied.

Harry smirked. “Call me Hadrian.”

“Is there anything you require of us, Hadrian?” Travers asked after a moment.

“You will be my eyes and ears.” Harry told them. “Anything you think might interest me, write it down and send me a report every night.”

“As you will.” Travers replied with a shallow bow. “So long as it doesn’t break Uriel’s confidence.”

“Of course.” Harry agreed. “Though I expect you to keep my secrets, even from Burke.”

Travers and Rowle both looked uncomfortable, as though they had only just realised the consequences of being sworn to two different wizards.

And I need a serpent’s egg.” Harry told them. “It doesn’t matter what kind, just get me one.”

“A serpent’s egg?” Rowle repeated her face blank.

“Yes, as soon as possible.” Harry added, he really wanted to visit Lord Slytherin in the Chamber of Secrets again.

“Malfoy thinks you’re lying about being Lord Black’s Heir.” Travers told him as they left the classroom and began the walk to the Great Hall.

Harry smirked in amusement. “Why on earth would I lie about something like that? I’m Heir to the House of Peverell, being the Black Heir is only the cherry on the top.”

“He’s under the impression that he’s the heir.” Travers answered.

Harry laughed. “The House of Malfoy has been noble for less than half a century, they have six remaining generations of vassal-ship to the House of Black. Why in Merlin’s name would Lord Black have made Malfoy his heir?”

“He claims his mother is one of Lord Black’s closest living relatives.” Travers explained.

“He’s right.” Harry nodded. “But through Lord Black’s mother. Surely everyone knows how unlikely his story is.”

“Unlikely, sure, but no more so that you being Lord Black’s heir.” Rowle commented.

“He’s my godfather.” Harry pointed out.

“He betrayed your parents to the Dark Lord.” Rowle retorted. “Why would he have made you is heir if he was a Death Eater?”

“An excellent question.” Harry acknowledged. “And yet he did. The fact that the Sorting Hat accepted my claim is proof of that. Not to mention the oaths we just swore.”

“Yes.” Travers agreed. “Are you going to confront Malfoy?”

“How many people believe him?” Harry asked as they approached the entrance to the Great Hall.

“It’s hard to say,” Rowle commented. “Even the people who don’t believe him, can’t risk displeasing him in case it is true.”

“That explains a lot.” Harry mused. “I’ve been wondering why Crabbe and Parkinson follow him around, both their houses outrank his.”

“Parkinson is hoping for a marriage contract.” Travers explained as they walked towards the Slytherin table. “Come sit with us, Burke won’t mind.”

Harry followed the older students to the head of the table where Burke’s Court usually sat. It was empty.

Travers sat down and gestured that Harry sit between him and Rowle.

Harry sat down and then turned to Travers. “Why would The House of Parkinson be looking to The House of Malfoy for a marriage contract?”

“I have no idea.” Travers shrugged. “I suppose either way it could mean a connection to the Blacks.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Rowle commented. “Rumour has it that the Malfoy’s are angling for a contract with the House of Greengrass.”

Harry laughed again. “Good Merlin. That’s hilarious. Maybe I should confront the little twerp.”

Travers snorted delicately in obvious amusement.

“Or you could just wear your Heir Ring.” Rowle commented.

Harry stiffened and began to serve himself breakfast. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Travers asked.

“Until I’m fifteen, it’s my magical guardian’s decision.”

“But why wouldn’t your magical guardian want you to wear the ring?” Rowle asked.

“Who is your magical guardian?” Travers added.

“Dumbledore.” Harry sneered quietly.

The two older Slytherins were silent for a while.

Eventually Travers spoke. “That is unfortunate.”

“You don’t say.” Harry returned sarcastically.

“How did you end up with him?” Rowle asked.

“Everyone my parents named is either dead, insane, or an escaped convict.” Harry explained. “Dumbledore took it upon himself to fill the void.”

Rowle frowned. “If Dumbledore’s your magical guardian, how did you even find out you were the Black Heir? I thought Dumbledore was trying to pretend that there’s no such thing as Ancient and Noble Houses.”

“Gringotts told me.” Harry answered shortly.

“So you’re entirely self-taught?” Rowle asked.

Harry nodded and helped himself to some pumpkin juice.

“That explains a bit.” Travers muttered.

“What was that?” Harry asked sharply. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know all the proper etiquette.

“Nothing.” Travers denied quickly.

Harry ate silently for a minute, deep in thought, before speaking again. “You will have to teach me.”

Rowle nodded. “We can do that.”

“Excellent.” Harry smiled. “How about every morning at six?”

“Six?” Travers sounded horrified.

“Too early for you, Travers?” Rowle mocked.

“Not at all.” Travers scowled at her.

“Six it is then.” Harry decided. “In the same classroom as this morning.”

“Yes, Hadrian.” Travers and Rowle both replied.

Harry went back to his breakfast, feeling slightly bad at how much he enjoyed having people defer to him. The Gryffindors would be horrified, so would Dumbledore.

“What’s he doing here?” Warrington asked rudely as he plonked himself down opposite Harry. “He’s a bloody half-blood.”

Both Rowle and Travers stiffened. “Watch your mouth, Warrington, or are you hoping for a repeat of yesterday?”

“Potter wouldn’t dare.” Warrington sneered.

Harry smirked. “What makes you so sure?”

“Burke would kill you!” Warrington blustered.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t seem perturbed last night. In fact, I’m pretty sure he thought it was funny.”

Warrington’s face was quickly turning red.

“It was pretty funny.” Travers agreed. “A fifth year being defeated by a third year. Didn’t you find it funny, Rowle?”

“Of course.” Rowle answered just as her brother slid into a seat next to Warrington.

“What was funny?” Aleksander Rowle asked.

“Warrington getting his arse kicked by a third year.” Rowle answered her brother.

Aleksander chuckled. “Yeah, that was funny.”

Warrington sneered in fury. “You’re dead, you bloody halfblood!”

Aleksander looked confused. “Who’s a halfblood?”

“Potter!” Warrington snapped.

“Potter’s Heir to the Ancient and Noble Houses of Peverell and Black.” Aleksander said slowly.

“Doesn’t change the fact that his mother was a mudblood.” Warrington snarled.

Harry stiffened and took his wand out of its holster.

“Shut up.” Aleksander sneered at the fifth year. “Keep your mouth shut, Warrington. You’re making a scene.”

“Causing a stir again, Potter?” Burke’s voice came from behind Harry.

Harry smirked dangerously at Warrington. “I do try, my lord.”

“I have no doubt.” Burke sounded amused as he sat beside Travers. Avery, Parkinson, Urquant and Lestrange had arrived with their King and they found seats as well.

“Do I even want to know what happened?” Burke asked after he had served himself breakfast.

“Potter’s sitting here!” Warrington said quickly.

“No way!” Parkinson turned around quickly, as though he had only just noticed Harry.

“You can’t be serious!” Lestrange added, also making a show of noticing Harry. “How could I have not seen him?”

Warrington was turning red again.

“Potter’s with me.” Travers said firmly.

“He’s a…”

“Shut up!” Aleksander interrupted the fifth year quickly.

Burke’s eyebrows rose. “Let him finish.”

Warrington smirked smugly at Aleksander. “He’s a halfblood!”

Aleksander shook his head in obvious disgust.

“He shouldn’t be sitting here!” Warrington continued. “Just because he’s Heir Peverell doesn’t mean he’s not a halfblood! Just like being Lady Peverell didn’t stop his mother from being a mudblood!”

Harry bit his tongue to try and distract himself from his need to curse the older boy.

“I beg your pardon.” Burke asked dangerously.

Warrington suddenly looked unsure. “I, I…”

“Do you have no respect for our culture, Warrington?” Parkinson asked coldly.

“Of course I do!” Warrington defended.

“And yet you are willing to insult the blood of a Lady of an Ancient and Noble House.” Parkinson continued.

“It’s not my fault Lord Peverell married a…”

“Silencio.” Burke intoned suddenly and the rest of Warrington’s sentence was lost.

Harry clenched his wand tightly, his expression cold.

“Pumpkin juice anyone?” Parkinson asked after a moment of silence.

“My thanks.” Avery nodded as she pushed her goblet closer to the wizard.

“So, turns out, Hadrian here really is the Black Heir.” Travers said quietly.

“Of course he is.” Urquart rolled his eyes. “He announced it during the Sorting Ceremony.”

“I know.” Travers shot the wizard a dirty look. “But I know that there are still some people who don’t believe him…”

“Why are you so sure?” Parkinson asked Travers carefully.

“Apart from the fact that the Sorting Hat couldn’t have resorted him if he’d lied about his identity?” Urquart asked sarcastically.

“I can’t say.” Travers admitted.

“You don’t wear the ring.” Parkinson commented to Harry.

“No.” Harry agreed. “I don’t wear the Peverell one either.”

“Can you prove it to me?” Parkinson asked seriously.

Harry smirked at him. “In exchange for…?”

Parkinson started in surprise and glanced quickly at Burke who was watching the exchange quietly.

“A favour.”

Harry made a show of considering it. “Alright, a favour. Any stipulations?”

“Nothing illegal, nothing damaging to my House.” Parkinson answered.

“Or my court.” Burke put in.

“Right,” Parkinson nodded.

Harry nodded and pulled out his wand. “By my magic I swear that I am Hadrian James Potter, Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black. So mote it be.”

Harry paused before casting lumos to prove that he hadn’t lost his magic.

Parkinson bowed his head quickly. “My thanks.” Then he pulled parchment and a quill out of his bag and began writing.

“That’s quite some spell work you’ve got protecting your desk, Potter.” Urquart commented.

Harry chuckled. “Thank you. I trust that you have recovered?”

Urquart nodded. “I have. I hear you tested out of Babbling’s class.”

“Yes.” Harry sipped at his goblet. “She will be tutoring me privately.”

“That sounds amazing.” Urquart looked jealous.

“I don’t know yet.” Harry admitted. “Our first lesson is tonight. She assigned me an eleven inch research essay on Tuesday morning and told me I had to have it done by tonight.”

“Ouch.” Travers exclaimed. “That’s awful.”

“It’s actually really interesting.” Harry argued. “Though I would have liked more time. I’ve barely managed to do half the research I want to do.”

“What was your topic?” Burke asked.

“The relationship between Old Italic Script, Egyptian Hieroglyphics and the Elder Futhark Alphabet.”

Urquart looked surprised. “Really? We’ve never learnt about that.”

“Oh, you should look it up.” Harry encouraged. “It’s fascinating.”

-

The next few weeks were mostly uneventful for Harry. Slytherin House didn’t seem to know what to do with him, especially now that Burke seemed to like him.

Harry’s lessons with Travers and Rowle were interesting and very informative. There was so much to learn, so many little rules that he needed to know. It made Harry’s blood boil, he should have been taught these things as a child, or at the very least when he entered the Wizarding World. How dare Dumbledore deprive him of this?

After only two lessons Harry was already seeing the world differently. Now he understood why Malfoy hated him so much, Harry had all but spat on him during their encounter on the train in first year. Admittedly Malfoy’s manners hadn’t been great either, but then, as Rowle had sneeringly pointed out, what could one expect from the son of Lucius Malfoy.

It turned out that, with a few exceptions, Britain’s Wizarding Nobility didn’t think much of the Malfoys who were first generation nobility. They were seen as arrogant French upstarts who had little respect for their betters. Harry wondered how different the Malfoys would be if Lord Black, their liege-lord, hadn’t been in Azkaban for the last twelve years.

Normally when an Ancient and Noble House sponsored a Common House to become Noble, they held the lesser House accountable for their actions – especially during the first few generations. But the House of Malfoy had only been nobility for seven years when Lord Arcturus Black died and, since his heir had been in Azkaban, the Malfoys had been left to their own devices.

Which explained why Malfoy Junior was such an annoying prat.

An annoying prat who was still milking his injured arm for all it was worth and who didn’t seem to know how to handle the fact that Harry was on better terms with Burke’s Court than he was. Though to his credit, he wasn’t being a Gryffindor about his confusion. There had been no confrontations, not even in the privacy of the their dorm room, just a lot of sneers and even more confused stares when he thought no one was looking.

-

Babbling’s tutoring sessions were intense. The Ancient Runes Professor talked so fast it was hard to keep up and she always assigned Harry a ridiculous amount of homework to be completed by the next session, but Harry loved them.

Ancient Runes just made sense to him and the practical applications were very useful – at least they would be when Harry was advanced enough to use them.

His other classes weren’t nearly as interesting, but he was enjoying not having to hold himself back for the sake of Ron and Hermione. He particularly loved the looks on the professors’ faces when they realised just how much knowledge and power he had been hiding. Snape’s expression when he awarded Harry his first ever Outstanding on a potions assignment was particularly enjoyable.

Harry found himself very busy, between his homework, his lessons with Babbling, his extracurricular reading, his lessons with Travers and Rowle, and the hours he spent teaching himself the Patronus charm, he had barely any spare time.

Thankfully, the Gryffindors gave up trying to confront after the first week, though he had now replaced Malfoy as Ron’s least favourite Slytherin and the redhead hardly let a day pass without trying to pick a fight with him.

The only Gryffindors who hadn’t completely written Harry off as evil were the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan. Incidentally, they were the only Gryffindors Harry hadn’t written off as being bigoted idiots. Harry had never really been friends with the threesome, Ron wouldn’t have liked it, but he had always found their company more tolerable than the other Gryffindors – despite how boisterous they could be.

The thing about the twins was that they seemed to wear as much of a mask as Harry did. It wasn’t that they weren’t fun loving pranksers, because they were, but they were also scarily intelligent and focussed when they chose to be. Harry had been amazed when he realised that no one else, other than Jordan, seemed to notice – not even their parents or siblings.

The first time Harry met the twins after being resorted was two weeks into the school year and during Harry’s free period and strangely enough, in the library.

“Well, well, Fred, do you see what I see?” George’s voice sounded from a bookcase near where Harry was studying.

“Indeed I do, George, dear fellow.” Fred’s voice replied. “If it isn’t the evilest Slytherin of the litter.”

“Litter?” George replied in fake confusion. “Snakes don’t have litters do they? They have packs.”

“Not packs, George, murders.” Fred corrected.

“No, Ravens have murders.” George argued as they came out from behind the bookcase, both sporting grins. “They might commit murders though.”

Both twins laughed at the joke.

“Snakes are solitary animals.” Harry told them loftily.

“Of course they are.” The twins chorused as they sat down opposite him.

“Makes sense, really.” George nodded.

“After all, here you are.” Fred agreed. “All alone.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Can I help you?”

“We wanted to congratulate you.” George told him.

“Oh?” Harry smirked.

“On pulling quite possibly the greatest prank Hogwarts has seen in centuries.” Fred grinned.

“They’ll be talking about it for years.” George continued.

Fred wiggled his eyebrows. “They’ll tell the tale of the lion who wasn’t a lion after all.”

“Quite the undercover operation you had going there.” George commented.

Harry’s smirk grew. “Likewise.”

George tilted his head to the side. “We have no idea what you mean, Harrykins.”

“Of course you don’t, don’t mind me.” Harry agreed with a wink.

“Right,” Fred grinned as he and George stood up. “That’s our cue, I believe.”

“Watch your back, Potter.” George told, his expression suddenly serious. “Ron’s being an idiot.”

Harry nodded in thanks. “I will.”

-

“Potter.”

Harry looked at Malfoy in surprise. They were alone in their dorm room which was unusual, but not unheard of. Normally when this happened Malfoy ignored him, apart from his usual sneers and confused glances.

“Malfoy.” Harry returned, his expression blank.

“Is it true?” Malfoy looked uncomfortable.

Harry smirked slightly, he had good idea what the other boy was asking. “Is what true, Malfoy?”

Malfoy cleared his throat nervously. “Are you Lord Black’s heir?”

“Didn’t you hear my request to be resorted?”  Harry asked lightly.

“My father says that you were lying.” Malfoy told him.

Harry snorted. “It was a magical ritual, Malfoy. A very basic one, admittedly, but a ritual none the less. The sorting hat wouldn’t have resorted me if I lied.”

“Prove it.” Malfoy challenged him, though Harry thought that Malfoy looked more uncomfortable than anything.

“Why should I?” Harry asked his coldly. “You are hardly in a position to me issuing me orders.”

Malfoy looked away.

Harry studied him. “Is this you asking? Or your father?”

Malfoy looked at him in confusion. “What?”

“Are you asking because you want to know?” Harry asked. “Or because your father wants to know?”

“My father doesn’t know.” Malfoy shifted uncomfortably. “He thinks that I am the heir.”

“And what does your mother think?” Harry asked curiously. Surely Narcissa realised how unlikely it would have been for the Blacks to have named her son their heir?

Malfoy looked away again. “Mother doesn’t disagree with father.”

Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise, Malfoy had almost sounded scared. He considered the other boy for a moment before pulling out wand.

“By my magic I swear that I am Hadrian James Potter, Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black. So mote it be.”

Malfoy’s shoulders slumped for a moment, before he straightened them again. “Why would Lord Black have made you his heir? He betrayed you.”

“It is strange.” Harry agreed. “Tell me, Malfoy, now that you know that I am Heir Black, will you be fulfilling your family’s fealty oath?”

“My father…” Malfoy started uncomfortably.

“Is a blood traitor.” Harry finished for him, his tone icy. “He has no respect for our traditions, unless they benefit him. My question is whether you are going to follow in his footsteps or whether you plan to redeem your House?”

Malfoy scowled at him and pulled out his wand. “My father is not a blood traitor!”

“Not as you understand it, no.” Harry acknowledged. “However, according to the traditional British understanding of the word, he certainly is. A blood traitor is a wizard, or witch, who does not honour and respect the pureblood traditions of Magical Britain. I’m not sure what your Father’s problem is, but not even you can deny that he doesn’t respect the Lords of the Ancient and Noble Houses as he should.”

Malfoy looked away, but didn’t reply.

“Take a few days to think about it.” Harry offered. “Your Father might be the current Head of the Noble House of Malfoy, but the future of your house rests in your hands. Do you want your House to go down in history as a house of blood traitors who didn’t honour their oaths?”

Malfoy grimaced at his words, but gave Harry a vaguely respectful nod before leaving. Harry sighed, he felt sorry for the other boy. They were similar in a way, while Harry hadn’t had anyone to teach him the pureblood traditions, Malfoy’s father had taught him all the wrong things. Harry just hoped Malfoy made the right decision.