If Harry Potter Was In Slytherin (The Sorceror’s Stone) Chapter Seven: Hatered

Harry barely made it through the week. On the train ride, Ron had been his best freind. Now, he hated him. Which is exactly why yoy should never call someone your best freind after just meeting that day.

Harry spent all his time that was not in classes reading and working on homework and reading his textbooks (as he had nothing else to do)- none of his peers, other than Eva, a girl named Hermione Granger, Daphne, and Daphne’s friend, Tracey Davis had said a single, true, kind word to him. If Daphne and Tracey’s kind words could even be called true; almost everyone expected him to become the next Dark Lord, and they were trying to get a head start in getting protection. However, unlike Parkingson and malfoy, these two were kind and polite.

He was releived when it was Friday, and when he silently sat down next to Daphne and Tracey (he rarely spoke with them; their company just made him feel less alone), his joy was hightened by the letter that fell on his lap.

Dear Harry,

I heard that first years have Friday afternoons off. If you aren’t to busy, would you like to come down to my hut for tea? Send your reply with Hedwig.

-Hagrid

So Hagrid did not hate him for being a Slytherin? Thank goodness. Hagrid had been... his first true freind.

Harry quickly wrote that he would love to come, and added a quick thank you. Daphne pursed her lips beside him.

“Yes?” Harry asked.

“I didn’t say anything,” Daphne responded, her smooth voice slightly irritated.

Harry shook his head. He knew Daphne would react like this. She was reasonable, and nice enough, but she just seemed to think she was oh-so-great...

***

Harry nervouslt walked to potions, knowing that he would have to spend the whole morning with the Gryffindors, Slytherins, and Professor Snape- all of whom seemed to hate him- was absaloutly horrifying.

He entered the potions room, glares following from ever direction. Harry wanted to flee, but instead he followed Eva’s advice- he held his head high and pretended that he did not notice their whispers.

A small glance around the room proved that Daphne was not there yet, so Harry sat at an empty table at the back of the room. The Gryffindor’s whispering itensified.

Harry caught a few snatches of it. “Why isn’t he sitting with his evil little freinds?” “Is everyone so scared of him that they won’t even let him sit near them?”

Harry sighed, his hands twitching as thought they longed to grab his own throat. He stared at all of the people around him, who had once been exited to meet him. His gaze fell on Ron, who was sitting silently- glaring at him.

Though, glaring would never be strong enough to describe the pure hatred in Ron’s eyes. After looking into the horrible gaze of his blue eyes, Harry nearly burst into tears.

Oh, how different his loathing eyes were from the sparkling, joyful eyes of Eva. They were both blue, but they filled him with such different emotions!

Harry’s eyes began to water, but he did not let anyone see. He just pulled out his potions book and bent over it, reading the facts to numb his fears, and hiding his tears by bending as far over his book as he could.

“May I sit here?”

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized that someone was talking to him, and kindly, too. It was that Hermione Granger girl, the girl who had did her homework with him and Eva a on Wednessday! While Harry had originally thought of her as annoying, he was now extremally grateful to her. “Yeah, er, go ahead,” Harry murmured happily.

Suddenly, his cheerfulness dropped. What if Hermione had sat next to him just to make fun of him? But Hermione just pulled out her own potions book, and read it as well.

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Hermione stared at Harry while she faked reading. He looked nervous- no, wary. His eyes looked slightly glazed, as hought they were wet, and his eyes seemed slightly pink. Had he been crying? Of course he had. That was the only reasonable explanation for wet, red eyes. The only problem was why he was crying.

Hermione’s imediate answer was the glaring and whispering from the students around them, but Hermione knew that the most obvious solutions were very rarely actaully the solutions.

Maybe- Hermione’s train of thought was cut of as Proffesor Snape entered the classroom.

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Harry imediatly closed his book as Snape entered the classroom. Hermione did the same, while Daphne aand Tracey, who had just arrived, sat up straighter at the next table over.

Proffesor Snape started out the class with rolecall, just like many other teachers. However, unlike the others, Proffesor Snape did not see the need to treat him like the rest of the students, this Professor treated him worse.

As he read aloud Harry’s name, Snape sneered, saying in his quiet, but attention grasping voice “Aaah... our new celebraty.” Several Gryffindors an Slytherins laughed. Harry was pleased to see that Ron did not laugh, but after another glare from the redhead, Harry’s joy disapeared.

Not knowing if the professor wanted a responce or not, Harry just shrugged, not really wanting to be famous.

Snape continued with the attendance, before giving an incredibily attention-capturing intraduction. Harry thought they would then go on to teach them about potions, but instead Snape turned his attention to Harry.

“Potter,” he said, sneering, “Do you know what I would get if I added the powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Harry looked at the ceiling for eleven long seconds, thinking hard before simply saying, “I do not know, Sir.” He glanced around nervously, seeing that Hermione’s hand was waving high in the air.

Snape gave Harry a truimphant glare. “Your fame isn’t everything, is it Mr. Potter? How about we try this again- where do bezors come from?”

Harry once again thought while staring at the ceiling- he knew this, if only he could just remember... “It is a stone,” he answered nervously, “That comes from the belly of a goat?”

“Correct, Potter,” Snape sneered, and by his face Harry could tell he wished that Harry had not been correct.

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Serverus stared at the Potter boy. It was surprising that he knew what a bezor was, but not as surprising as him being in Slytherin.

Perhaps the brat would not be as horrible as James had been, but Serverus’s hopes were not high. His emotions towards the boy were far to complicated; they were full of hope that he would be like Lily, hatered for Jame’s son, and the urge to protect Lily’s young, possibaly innocent, child.

Honestly, Serverus did not like him much more because he was in Slytherin, considering the look on Potter’s face when he was sorted. He was probably just like his father, but even more cowardly! Though something in his eyes was so different from his father’s. They were not arrogant, they were almost haunted- not that Serverus Snape would ever admit that.

There was no way that Dumbledore would let his Golden Boy live in a home like, well, like his. But Dumbledore made a lot of mistakes, including letting him stay at home. Serverus Snape’s lip curled. He would treat the boy neutraly, for now.