Arthur Faulkins, the Slytherin Prefect, led the first years to breakfast the next morning, making it clear from the start that he would only do so once. Amy Dolcite, the other Prefect, told them that she would lead them to their classes the first time, after that they were on their own.

On top of having to remember his way around the giant castle, Harry was getting stared at, whispers following him through the halls.

"Is that him?"

"The one with the glasses?"

"Next to the blond."

"Why's he in Slytherin though?"

"I heard his parents were in Gryffindor."

Harry tried to ignore them. Especially the ones that thought he was the next dark lord. He hadn't even been there a day, and already people were talking about him, barely bothering to keep their voices down.

The first week wasn't horrible. Harry had all sorts of interesting classes that he attended with his housemates. Their first Herbology lesson was shared with the Ravenclaws, as was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Transfiguration and History of Magic was with the Hufflepuffs. On Wednesday evening, all the first years had Astronomy, and Harry was happy to find most of his classmates to be very amicable and friendly, even if the Hufflepuffs were a little wary, and the Griffindors were mostly cold.

The classes themselves were all interesting, and soon, Friday had come, bringing with it Harry's first Potions class, which the Slytherins shared with Gryffindor.

As with their other classes, Amy Dolcite lead them into the dungeons, and showed them to their classroom.

It was chilly, and the various jars of animal parts were very disconcerting.

The class had all settled into their seats, when Snape swept into the room, his cloak billowing behind him impressively. As tiny Charms Professor Flitwick had, Snape took roll, pausing very slightly at Harry's name, though he didn't say anything.

Snape captured their attention as easily as Professor Mcgonagall had, the entire class listening intently.

"In this class, you will learn the exact art, and subtle science of potion-making. There is no foolish wand-waving, nor ridiculous incantations in this class."

He turned to stare them all down.

"As such, many of you may not believe it is magic. I highly doubt that any of you will understand the beauty of a softly simmering cauldron, nor the power of the liquids it holds. With a proper potion, a wizard is able to ensnare the senses, and muddle the mind. I can teach you to brew poisons, bottle fixations, and even craft death. That is, if you have the capacity to learn such an advanced subject."

There was a solid silence. Harry was beginning to worry.

Was Potions really that hard of a subject?

Snape rounded on him without warning.

"Potter. What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry froze. He could remember those ingredients from the school books he'd read during the last month of summer, but he could not recall the name of the potion it made. One of the Gryffindors had her hand up in the air, clearly knowing the answer.

"A sleeping draught, sir?" Harry half asked, feeling very put on the spot, but knowing it would not be wise to ignore his head of house.

Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Are you asking, or answering?"

"Answering." Harry said quickly, "sir."

"Hmmm."

Snape folded his arms, surveying Harry as though he were a specimen that had shown an unexpected reaction.

"Where would you look if I told you to find a bezoar?"

"The stomach of... a... goat, sir?" Harry said slowly. He knew it was found in the stomach of some animal, but he couldn't remember which. One of the Gryffindors snickered at his hesitation. The girl with her hand in the air slowly lowered it, throwing a glare at the red haired boy.

Without another word, Snape suddenly rounded on the red head that had laughed.

"Weasley! What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Weasley paled, staring at Snape as though he had just announced his death.

"I-I don't know. Sir."

Snape sneered,

"Gryffindors haven't gotten smarter, then. Pity, I'm sure Professor Mcgonogall would appreciate the change of pace."

Snape turned on his heel, and walked to the front of the classroom by his teaching desk.

Weasley turned red, grimacing darkly at Snape's back.

"For your information, Weasley, they are the same plant, also known as aconite. And you are correct, Potter. Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is indeed found in the stomach of a goat, and will save you from most poisons. Five points to Slytherin."

Harry let out a silent breath of relief, and Draco, who was sitting next to him, lightly nudged him, giving him a smirk.

"Well? Write that down." Snape snapped.

There was a class wide rummage for quill and parchment. While they hurriedly wrote, Snape flicked his wand at a piece of chalk, directing it, as it wrote out instructions.

The lesson went rather well, in Harry's opinion. Other then near the end, when an unfortunate Gryffindor had melted his partner's cauldron, splashing himself with the ruined potion from within, and losing Gryffindor house nearly ten points. Though most of those points were taken from Weasley, rather then the now boil-covered boy, who had already been taken out of the class, heading for the Hospital Wing. Four of the points had been for not warning the boy of his impending mistake, and the following five were because Weasley had actually tried to argue with Snape.

In all, it hadn't been as bad as Harry had expected, but he was still grateful when the class ended.

At five to three that afternoon, Harry headed down to Hagrid's hut, having been invited for tea - via owl-delivered note - that morning at breakfast.

Harry was on his own, since the other Slytherin first years had decided to use their free afternoon to work on their homework, or lounge around the common room. Harry hadn't actually asked any of them to accompany him. From what little he had talked to them, none of them seemed like they would at all be interested in getting to know Hagrid, and Harry wasn't going to impose when they clearly had no wish to meet the gamekeeper.

Tea with Hagrid was a welcome distraction, as Harry told him about his first week, while sipping a hot cup of tea, and pretending to like Hagrid's teeth breaking rock cakes.

"So yeh're settling in well, 'arry?"

Harry nodded, setting his large mug on the table.

"They're not treating yeh too badly, are they?"

"No, they've all been nice."

"Not made friends with any o' them, have yeh?"

"Not yet." Harry felt awkward when Hagrid seemed relieved by that. "But we've been so caught up with classes and everything, we haven't talked much yet."

"Well, jus' you be careful 'bout who yeh be friendly with. More'n a few of 'em will only want some'ing to do with yeh for what yeh can do in return."

Harry refrained from pointing out that Hagrid had just described most of the human population. But he understood what the gentle giant meant.

"I'll be very careful, Hagrid." Harry promised. It was an easy promise to make, after all, he didn't have anything worthwhile to give.

Harry did his best to make small talk, but eventually excused himself, citing unfinished homework he had neglected. Hagrid was quite happy to invite him back when he had a free moment, and waved jovially as Harry headed back up to the castle.

As he made his way into the entrance hall, Harry thought about what Hagrid had said. Was that why Draco had seemed so friendly after he had introduced himself at Diagon Alley? He wanted something from him? If that was true, what could he possibly expect Harry to be able to provide?

Harry didn't have anything to give that was worth that much effort. But did that mean Draco really did just want to be his friend? Or had the young wizard simply not realized that yet?

He was so absorbed in his thoughts, he didn't notice the group of fourth years until he ran into one of them.

Harry toppled to the ground, the older boy staggering into one of his friends.

Harry straightened his glasses, and pushed himself to his feet.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't looking..." Harry's voice trailed away, as he looked up and noticed the three Gryffindors were glaring at him.

"Of course you weren't." The boy on Harry's right snorted, nearly glowering at Harry while his friends righted themselves. "Bet you just expected everyone else to jump out of your way."

His friend on Harry's left nodded,

"Yeah, always strutting around like they own the place. Manky gits."

Harry stared at them, startled. He hadn't expected anything, he'd just been distracted.

"I- I'm sorry." He tried again, hoping they would let it be.

"Perhaps if we teach you a lesson, you'll think twice before running into people." The boy Harry had walked into said, pulling his wand.

Harry's eyes widened slightly, as he stood rooted to the spot. He contemplated running, but if the boy was going to use magic, that probably wouldn't save Harry at all.

The boy flicked his wand, and said, "Pungere!"

Before Harry could try to avoid it, pain lanced through his arm, as if he'd just hit the wrong spot on his elbow. Harry yelped, grabbing his arm as he stumbled back, trying to distance himself from them. The two on either side didn't look quite so sure of themselves, but didn't stop their friend as he followed Harry's movement with his wand, preparing to jinx him again.

Just as he was about to cast the spell again, there was a yell of "Expelliarmous!" And the boy's wand flew out of his hand.

The three teens turned around to find a sixth year Slytherin standing behind them, her wand still in hand, pointing at them.

"Attacking defenseless first years, Pierceint? And I thought you couldn't get more cowardly." The girl sneered.

Pierceint glared at her, his hands curling into fists.

"Always acting better then everyone else, Collins? Rather rich coming from an aspiring Death Eater."

Collins brown eyes narrowed farther, her expression darkening. Red sparks shot from her wand, popping ominously.

"You should watch your tongue, Pierceint! Before someone removes it." She growled.

"Come on Derrick," One of Pierceint's friends said, grabbing the boy's arm before he could attack Collins with his fists.

"It isn't worth detention."

When Pierceint, being half dragged by his mates, had vanished around the corner, Collins put her wand away and turned to Harry, who had pressed himself into the nearest corner hoping to go unnoticed.

"You all right?" Collins asked, walking over to him.

Harry shrank back, sliding to the floor as he stared at her. The older girl huffed a little, and crouched in front of him.

"I'm not gonna eat you, or something. Snape told you, didn't he? Slytherins stick together." She frowned in concern, "Pierceint didn't hurt you too badly, did he?"

When Harry shook his head, she nodded.

"Pierceint has always had his head up his arse. Fitting he's in Gryffindork." Her face cleared as she seemed to remember something,

"I suppose I should introduce myself," she smiled a bit, a few strands of her raven hair falling in her face, "I'm Margret Collins. You can just call me Retta."

Retta offered her hand, and Harry took it tentatively, not entirely sure what to do with this odd development. Usually people ignored, or joined in when Harry was the target.

"I'm Harry."

Her eyes flicked to his forehead, before quickly returning to his face, as she shook his hand.

"Potter, I assume."

Harry nodded.

"well, you should try to avoid going anywhere outside the dungeons alone, Harry. Lot of students don't have the best impression of Slytherins, and some, like Pierceint, don't the common sense to leave be."

With that warning, Retta pulled Harry to his feet, and brushed the dirt off his robes.

"I take it you're heading back to the common room?"

Harry nodded again, feeling out of place, like everything around him had changed places, but he couldn't quite pick out how they had moved.

"I was heading back myself. Just finished detention with Professor Vector."

Harry felt nervous as he walked with Retta. She didn't say much, mostly humming to herself as they walked, but Harry couldn't help but wait for the other shoe to drop. No one was just nice to him. Not without a reason.

As they reached the blank wall that was the entrance to their common room, Harry remembered what Professor Snape had said his first night. Outside of the common room, Slytherins were united, showing themselves tight knit to the rest of the school, which watched them with suspicion and distrust.

Collins gave the password, and bid him farewell, as she headed towards a group of sixth years who were sitting in a corner, laughing over a game of exploding snap.

Harry headed towards the stairs to his dormitory, not noticing that he hadn't thanked her for helping him. He was so in his own head, he didn't notice Draco and Theodore Nott calling to him from a couch near the fireplace either.

Harry got to his dorm, and immediately went to his trunk, digging around until he found an old, and particularly worn pair of puce socks, that had once been uncle Vernon's. Wrapped inside of them, was the small pocket knife Harry had found under the bed in Dudley's second bedroom.

Harry glanced around the room. It was empty apart from himself, as it was almost time for dinner. Not wanting to take the chance of someone walking in, Harry went into the bathroom, and locked the door behind him.

Originally, this and the chapter prior, were one really effing long chapter. But I quickly decided they were better as two chapters. Since this one alone is over two thousand two hundred words, I'm glad I split them up. I'm sure you are as well.

Pungere is Latin, (according to google) it means 'I sting/to sting' since there is no known incantation for the stinging jinx/hex, I made one.

Anyway, not much to say here, people are arseholes. Doesn't matter what house you're in. 

Peace

Bakeku67

You guys are so amazing!

And I've had the best idea for a small twist. Nothing story altering, just a little thing. But it has me so pumped, I'm gonna post this one a little early. I don't think we'll actually settle into a steady updating schedule, at least not for a very very long while, as I'm writing chapters while posting, which is a first for me. I usually writing a chapter, and post it once I'm done with it, or never start posting the story, because I want to finish writing it before I start posting, but never finish it.

Anyway! Since y'all've been reaching the goal in a day, imma up it. Let's reach two hundred, guys!