Chapter Seven: Differences

The Slytherin common room looked much the same as Henry remembered it from his and Ron's infiltration back in second year: a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and a ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. Even the high-backed chairs positioned around the crackling fire in the elaborately carved mantelpiece was the same.

The prefect in charge of the first years led the small group, numbering seven in total, to stand on the carpet in front of the mantel, facing out towards the room. Henry watched as the rest of the students separated themselves into groups and took positions around the edges of the room. As he followed Severus to a group near the back of the room and noted they were standing with the same people they'd been seated with during dinner, he realized the groups were divided by years. Regulus Black, however, did not join the second years near the other side of the room. He took a seat at one of the tables pushed into a corner of the room and took out a quill and parchment.

One student from each year, including Rabastan Lestrange and Avery, stood in the center of the room. All of them over fourth year were wearing prefects' badges. Henry wondered what was about to happen, as this was unlike anything the Gryffindors had ever done. He turned to ask Severus, but stopped before speaking because Professor Slughorn chose that moment to waddle his way into the room.

"Oh good, you haven't started yet," the professor said. He went over to the students in the center of the room and handed Avery a roll of parchment. While the seventh year opened the parchment and began to read it over, Slughorn turned his attention to the gathered first years. "I won't keep you long," he said, "as this group of ladies and gents here are more than capable of getting you settled. I just wanted to introduce myself. I am Horace Slughorn, Professor Slughorn to you of course, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House. If you find yourself with troubles that can't be resolved by a student here in this room, you can seek me out during my office hours. I am also the founder of a group I like to call the Slug Club, a little collection of Hogwarts' best and brightest. Prove yourself to be remarkable in anyway and you might find yourself honored with an invite. But, that's enough from me, I'll leave the floor to Mr. Avery here."

Slughorn didn't wait for anyone to say anything before leaving as quickly as he'd come, leaving the first years all looking just a bit off balanced. Avery took a single step forward and everyone's attention was quickly drawn to him. He stood up straight and tall in a way that exuded authority and when he spoke, it was in a low voice of clipped tones that somehow still managed to carry across the room as if by a Sonorous charm, except Henry hadn't seen such a charm being cast.

"On this first day of September of the year 1973, I Nathaniel Avery, Prefect and Seventh Year representative, hereby call this informal meeting of Slytherin House to order." Avery recited the words with an ease of a long practiced ceremony. "First years, welcome to Hogwarts. More than that, welcome to Slytherin house. You have just entered into Hogwarts' elite, a house ruled by tradition and pride. Be proud of yourself. We have a few things up for discussion tonight, and then you'll be free to find your beds. I'll try to make this quick.

"First, while everyone here takes pride in being a part of Slytherin's great legacy, you'll quickly learn that the other houses, and even some of the professors, do not give us the proper respect we deserve. Few people will pass up the opportunity to step on a Slytherin.

"Because of this, no matter what happens inside this dormitory, out there we must always present a united front. You do not let our enemies know where we are weak. If you have a problem with another Slytherin, you handle it inside the Slytherin dormitory and act as if you are the best of friends out there where anyone else may see. That is the number one rule of Slytherin House. Tangentially to that, no one outside of Slytherin house is allowed inside our common room. If you need to work with someone from other houses, do so in the library or anywhere not here. You will not like what will happen to you if you break this rule."

Avery looked briefly at the parchment that Slughorn handed him. "Will the following two students please take a step forward when I say your name: Carter, Yvonne and Whitley, Trey?" The two students, both first years, stepped forward. They looked more than a little nervous at being singled out. "These two are this year's Muggleborn Slytherins," Avery said to the rest of the room, before turning his attention to the frightened two in the spotlight.

"According to the rest of the school's way of thinking, you do not exist. Slytherin has a long history of preferring purebloods, and it's no secret that 95% of the people in this room don't want you here, but there's nothing to be done. There's always a few of you, every year, the Hat finds enough cunning and ambition in to send down here with us. Because the Hat says you're one of us, the same rules apply. Out there, we'll treat you the same as any Slytherin. But in here, you may find you need to prove yourself worth the air you breathe."

He gave a dismissive wave of his hand, and the two Muggleborn students quickly took a step back into the crowd of their year mates, though Harry noted the two of them drifted closer to each other and away from the pure-bloods they'd been sorted with.

"On to our next order of business. We like our first years to have an advantage the other houses do not offer their first years. Because of this, each of you will be paired with a mentor of sorts. Your mentor's job is to help you acclimate to Hogwarts life and make sure you get the best out of your first year. They'll make sure you find all your classes and help you attain whatever you may need to ensure you do well in those classes. They're also in charge of making sure you know all the Slytherin house and Hogwarts' rules. I will personally assign your mentors and they will find you tomorrow at breakfast.

"And our last discussion point, House meetings. Last year we had monthly House Meetings the fourth Sunday of each month after dinner. We'll do the same for the start of this year though we may change it later as obligations reveal themselves. The first formal house meeting will take place Sunday, September 23rd. Mentors are reminded that they are in charge of making sure their first year mentee is informed of proper house meeting etiquette. Meetings between each years' representatives will start in October and take place every week during Wednesday's lunch period. First years, you have until the September 23rd meeting to decide amongst yourselves who you'd like to represent your year at these meetings.

"A few closing remarks, fifth year Emma Vanity returns as quidditch captain this year. If you have questions about the house team and what positions are available, see her. For those of you who missed it, the password for the common room is currently Septimus. That concludes all discussion points for the Slytherin house informal meeting for the first of September, 1973. If you missed anything or have any questions, see second year Regulus Black for the meeting minutes. Sixth year prefects, please show the first years where their dormitories are located."

Those last words were obviously a dismissal, and everyone started to move at once. Henry didn't know what to think. Formal house meetings every month? Assigned mentors for first years? Year representatives? Nothing like any of this had been done in Gryffindor house.

Remembering how he and Ron had gotten lost on their way to the very first Transfigurations class, Henry couldn't help but think the mentor thing at the least was a good difference. But it was not at all what he'd expected from Slytherins. He'd thought they would be the type to let their first years fall in head first and sink or swim. Though he supposed it made a weird kind of sense. Slytherins were all about upholding their image, having their first years wander around looking clueless did nothing to help that image. And the meetings thing made sense when you realized just how much stake Slytherins put into politics.

"Frost," Severus said, cutting through Henry's thoughts. "Follow me." Henry did so without question, following closely on Severus' heels as he cut a path across the common room and headed down one of the corridors that branched from the room. "This is the third year boys' dormitory," Severus announced, stopping outside the sixth door in the hallway.

There were five four-poster beds inside the room with dark green curtains and black bedding. Surprisingly enough, there were also five desks in the room, one next to each bed, and over each desk was a charmed window showing the outside sky like the ceiling of the Great Hall. The bed closest to the door had Henry's trunk at the foot of it and Widgit's cage sat on the desk. There was a second doorway that Henry assumed led to the restroom.

Severus' bed was apparently the one next to Henry's. He crossed over to it and sat down without another word. Henry headed first for his desk. He peered into Widgit's cage and found a familiar pair of amber eyes looking back at him from inside the cactus. Henry frowned. "You sure you want to live in the dungeons? The owlery may be better for hunting and stretching your wings." Widgit rolled his eyes and Henry shrugged. "Suit yourself, dust mop."

"You're talking to a cactus," an accented voice stated from the doorway, startling Henry.

Henry flushed. "No, I'm talking to…" he glanced at the cage and saw no sign of Widgit inside it. "Never mind."

"I'm Aleksandar Nicoli. You may call me Nico. My sister, Anastasia, is also in our year. She answers to Nicoli. From the both of us, welcome to Hogwarts." Nico was a few centimeters taller than Henry, but he was also a bit overweight. He wasn't as large as Dudley had been at this age, but he was definitely rounder than Neville's third year plumpness. His sister on the other hand, from what Henry could recall seeing of her earlier that night, was the opposite: short and petite. Henry had noted the resemblance between them in the dark color of their hair and the harsh set of their brown eyes. Anastasia, though, had been a more pasty color while Aleksandar sported a summer tan. His accent was a thick and sounded as if he was talking with peanut butter stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"Thanks," Henry said, but Nico hadn't stuck around to hear it. He headed for his bed across the room and gave Harry a flippant wave over his shoulder. The boy called Gibbon entered after Nico and did nothing but glare at Henry as he headed for his bed. 'Okay' Henry mumbled to himself, then headed over to his trunk to get his pajamas and toothbrush. The way Gibbon eyed him as he did so made Henry think he should use the strongest locking charm he could find on the trunk and maybe even his bed hangings.

Severus gave Henry a look that said quite clearly "I told you so" and Henry just grinned back. He'd already known his stay in the snake pit was going to be difficult.

…

September first had fallen on a Saturday that year, so Henry didn't have to worry about waking early enough on the second to get his schedule at breakfast and have time to rush back to his dorm and grab the course material needed for his first class. He didn't actually sleep in, but he didn't roll out of bed in any sort of hurry.

Gibbon, Lestrange, and Severus were already up and moving by time Henry woke. Lestrange was gone from the room, Gibbon was half dressed, and Severus was heading for the door. He gave a brief nod of acknowledgment in Henry's direction, but didn't stop. Nico was still in bed, snoring quite loudly.

Henry groggily made his way to the bathroom. Passing a mirror, Henry let out a startled squeaking noise. His hair wasn't as knotted and tangled as it had been the day before, instead it was sticking up in all directions in ways that defied gravity. Henry turned, and ran back into the dorm room. He opened his trunk and quickly retrieved the box of hair care products that Carrie had gifted him. Behind him, Gibbon let out a noise that was both amused and insulting.

Henry turned and leveled a glare in his direction, though he doubted it was very quelling given the state of his head. Gibbon just grinned smugly, before turning and striding out of the room. Henry frowned.

"It's your magic," Nico's accented voice cut through his thoughts.

"Excuse me?" Henry asked, turning and looking at his still-mostly-asleep-but-at-least-upright roommate.

"You have excess magic pouring out of you. It's the reason your hair is standing up like that. Not being able to control your magic at this age is like not being able to control your bladder. Gibbon was amused because you may as well have just pissed your pants."

Henry huffed. "I can control my magic just fine."

Nico make a grunting sound. "Whatever."

It took all Henry's willpower to resist the urge to try and flatten his hair with his hands. He gathered his clothes for the day and the hair products and returned to the bathroom.

Showering and washing his hair took much longer than he was used to. Afterward, he had to brush his hair and fight with the tangles that decided to make themselves known. He concentrated on feeling his magic to see if there was any truth to Nico's words. He was surprised to discover just how much magic he was leaking; he wondered if he'd always leaked this way and had just never noticed. Was that the really the reason his hair had always been so impossible to control?

He took a deep breath and focused on pulling his magic back inside him. He'd gotten great practice in drawing his magic into his core when he'd first learned how to cast a Patronus Charm; high level magic like that required a great deal more control and what it lacked in finesse was made up for in brute strength. Brute strength that wasn't possible if he couldn't control how his magic spilled from him.

By the time he was done in the bathroom, breakfast was more than halfway over, but it was worth the extra time spent to see his hair lying flat and shiny. He felt more than a little smug when he passed Nico on the way out of the bathroom.

"You coming with me?" Henry asked, poking Widgit's cage with his wand as he plopped down in his desk chair to put on his shoes.

Widgit let out a little trill and flew from his cactus to Henry's shoulder. He took his favorite spot in the crook of Henry's neck and used beak and fluttering wings to make Henry's hair fall in a way that hid him from sight. "You going to hate me if I ever start tying my hair back," Henry commented. There was a brush of feathers against the side of his neck, but otherwise Widgit offered no answer.