Severus snorted lightly and shook his head. 'Cheeky brat. Go to bed, no side trips. And try not to get killed tomorrow at Quidditch tryouts.'
Potter actually smiled at him. 'Yes, sir. Good night.'
The portrait had closed behind the boy before Severus answered him. 'Good night, Harry.'
TBC . . .
A/N: Sweet! We hit 1000 reviews and then some. Thank you, everyone, for your support! Next chapter out by Thursday.
*Chapter 17*: Chapter 17
Better Be Slytherin! – Chapter 17
By jharad17
Disclaimer: Not mine. I imagine I'll get over it.
Summary: As a first year, Harry is sorted into Slytherin instead of Gryffindor, and no one is more surprised than his new Head of House.
Previously:
Though he was exhausted, Harry had a difficult time falling asleep that night. He kept going over the returned memories of the attack, as well as reliving the feel of having the Bloody Baron take up residence in his body. To be honest, he was wildly unhappy with that whole episode, even if it had saved his life; he hated not having control, and the Baron had taken every bit from him, and then erased his memories afterwards. It was maddening, and not fair besides.
When he did finally sleep, his dreams were disjointed and full of strange sounds and colors, and left him with a vaguely hung over feeling the next morning, which he had still not shaken by the time the others rose.
It didn't help that Zabini started in on him right away. Harry was still gathering his toiletries to take to the shower room when his dorm mate said, 'If you're never going to show up for our study group, Potter, you might as well not be in it. We'd rather have someone else anyway.'
Stung, though he tried not to show it, Harry said, 'Maybe you should petition our Head of House, then. You could ask him to let me out of detention so I can help you with your studies.'
'I wouldn't need
'Not useless, though.'
'What the hell are you saying, half-blood?'
Harry smirked, knowing nothing set the dark haired boy's teeth on edge as much as the idea someone was mocking him. 'Nothing more than you think. And by the way, not that it matters, but both my parents had magic, so if anything, I'm three-quarters blood. I realize that's higher math and all—'
'You little sh—'
'Shut it, Zabini,' Teddy growled at him. He had his wand out, but it wasn't aimed at anyone, just held casually as you please on one hand, as he lounged against the wall like he hadn't a care in the world. 'We're all getting a bit tired of your mouth.'
'You can say that again,' Draco said. The blond's eyes were half lidded, but he stared down Zabini all the same.
Teddy sneered and said, 'We're getting a bit tired of your mouth.'
'Why are you sticking up for this filth, huh? Daddy tell you to suck up to him?' Zabini glared at Draco, as if the latter had betrayed him in some way.
Draco shrugged, all casualness. 'Slytherins have to stay on top, and I heard he's a great Seeker. Guess we'll see today.'
Watching him, Harry wondered why he was saying that, if he was supposed to be angry about Harry getting on the team, like Teddy had told him while he was in the infirmary. But maybe Draco didn't like him for some other reason. Or maybe . . . Harry sighed. His head still hurt and he was tired of thinking about this. 'Look, Zabini, I don't want to fight with you. We've only been here a week; we've got seven years to get through. I, for one, would rather get along with you than not.'
'Try not, then.' Zabini turned and strode from their dorm.
Harry frowned, but shook his head. It was just a stupid rivalry, and he didn't have the time or energy for it. It wasn't as though Zabini was the one who'd attacked him, unless he was a far better dueler with his wand than he was with his mouth. Turning to the others, he said, 'Thanks for the assist, but I don't want you to get on his bad side, either.'
Teddy laughed. 'He doesn't have a good side. He hates pretty much everything.'
'Well that's reassuring,' Harry said
Draco laughed, too, and the three of them left Crabbe and Goyle still snoring as they made their way to the shower room. Zabini was already in a stall, and billows of steam poured out of it. The other boys stripped down, and Harry was glad Madam Pomfrey had taken care of the bruising from the attack, so he didn't have to suffer
