The sun rose early on September 1, but Harry was up long before the sun making breakfast for the residents of Number 4 Private Drive, and collecting the last of his things for the trip to Kings Cross station. His Uncle had mocked him the night before when he had asked to be driven to the station so he could find Platform 9 3/4. Not that it phased him much anymore. He had learned long ago that his relatives held no love for him, and he had grown to dislike them as much as they disliked him.

Finishing off the bacon in the pan, he turned to set the table, and then returned to his new room with a small sandwich of toast with an egg and a few slices of bacon. He fed part of this to Hedwig, his owl, and then sat waiting for his Aunt and Uncle to wake up and head down the stairs to eat and get ready to take him to the train station. He did not have to wait long, and he heard his uncle stomping down the stairs loudly. The great oaf never did manage to sleep long once the smell of food filtered through the air and up the stairs. Grabbing his trunk and Hedwig's cage, he walked slowly down the stairs, making sure to make the least noise possible while the telly was on. He hauled his trunk out to the car and put it in the back, and he let Hedwig go with instructions to fly to Hogwarts and wait for him there.

Walking back inside, he turned towards the kitchen to find his cousin and Uncle finishing up their plates, and his Aunt just barely pecking at hers with distaste. As usual. Picking up the empty plates and pans, he took them to the kitchen and washed them up whilst his Uncle lumbered upstairs to dress for the day. Making sure he timed it right, he met his Uncle at the door and walked out with him to the car.

The ride to the station was unusually quiet, and Harry kept waiting for his uncle to make some sort of scathing remark. Surprisingly, he didn't, until they got to the station. His uncle even helped him get his trunk onto the trolly before turning to him with a glint in his eye.

"Good luck finding Platform nine and three quarters, boy. And while you're at it, don't bother darkening our doorstep with your freakishness again!" He huffed out, and drove off, leaving Harry on the sidewalk outside of the station. Rolling his eyes, Harry turned towards the doors, ignoring the stares the other adults who had witnessed the exchange were giving him, and trotted on inside the building with his possessions in tow. With a solid plan to people watch until he figured it out, he sat down on top of his trunk at the pillar separating platforms 9 and 10, and waited. After a while, however, he grew bored and leaned back onto the pillar.

Only to fall straight through.

With a yelp and muttered curses, he righted himself on the pavement and looked around. Noticing that he was now on platform 9 3/4, he tentatively reached back through and grabbed his trolly and pulled it through. Turning himself back around, he headed towards the train and was struggling to pull his trunk onto the train when a pair of redheaded twins popped up on either side of him.

"Need some help with that?" one of them asked, and Harry nodded, accepting defeat and letting the obviously stronger boys to heft his trunk up the stairs and into an empty compartment for him. Once it was situated on one of the racks above the seats, they turned back to him.

"I'm Fred, and this is George," the other introduced them, and Harry nodded in thanks.

"I'm Harry. It's nice to meet the both of you. What year are you in?" Harry asked, and they looked at each other and then back to him.

"We're third years. By chance, are you Harry Potter?" George asked, and Harry nodded, his eyebrows furrowing when they both looked to his forehead.

"Yeah, but I don't really understand why it's a big deal. I don't remember that night all that well," A lie, but they didn't need to know that. He relived the night of his mothers death every time he slept. Both boys reddened, and looked down in embarrassment.

"Sorry. Our mum liked to read the stories written about you to our little sister, Ginny. We didn't believe them, but it's still pretty wicked to meet the Boy-Who-Lived," Fred said, and Harry shrugged.

"I'm just Harry," He stated, and walked into the compartment. The twins didn't follow him, but they did wave as they left, and Harry was left alone again. With a sigh of relief, he plopped down into the seat and pulled a book out of the bag he had brought with him for the train ride. He hadn't gotten very far into it before there was a know on the door, and he looked up to find another red-headed boy, this time around his age, standing there awkwardly.

"Can I sit here? Everywhere else's full," He asked tentatively, and Harry nodded, closing his book and putting back into his bag gently. "My name's Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley."

"Harry Potter. Are you by chance related the Fred and George? I met them earlier," Harry said, making sure to run the subject of the other two boys past him when his eyes darted to his forehead. He really didn't want another commotion about his fame.

"Uh, yeah. They're my older brothers," Ron muttered, looking down at his shoes. Just then, there was yet another knock at the door and a blonde boy opened the door. Two others were behind him, and Harry figured they were body guards of some sort, since they weren't too intelligent-looking.

"I heard Harry Potter was in this compartment. Is it true?" The blonde sneered, and Harry looked at him with a piercing green gaze, not overly impressed by his pompous attitude.

"No, he isn't. Who're you?" Harry asked, and the boy returned his gaze with one of distaste.

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. And you are?" He said, and Ron snorted into his hands. Instantly, the blond's gaze shot to him, and he sneered at Ron with an obvious loathing. "Red hair, hand me down robes. No question as to who you are. You're a Weasley."

Ron jumped up, his face turning red in anger, but before he could say anything, Harry stepped in between them, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

"And why is that any of your concern as to what he's wearing? Your robes are silk, which means that if I were to spray them with water right now, they would be effectively ruined," Harry snapped back, cursing his short stature as he had to look up at the blonde, who's outraged face had taken on a pinkish hue.

"If you do that, you'll get detention," He snapped right back, and Harry shrugged, not bothered by his empty threats. He'd had plenty of detention before for fighting with bullies. It wouldn't be anything especially new.

"And? It'd make it worth my time to see a pompous brat like you go crying to his mummy about his fancy dress getting ruined, despite the fact that it was your choice to come into my compartment in the first place. I don't like you, so why don't you get out and go shove your long nose up someone else's ass?" Harry sneered, and pushed him out into the hallway before slamming and locking the door. Turning back around, he noticed Ron was still standing, with his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "What? The ass deserved it."

With that, Ron burst out laughing, and Harry was right behind him. Both boys finally sat back down, and when the trolly came through, Harry bought enough for the both of them. The rest of the train ride wasn't overly eventful, other than a rather bushy-haired girl knocking to ask if they had seen a toad anywhere, and Harry thoroughly enjoyed the peace. Once night fell, both boys changed into their robes, and when the train finally came to a stop, they hopped off and Harry smiled slightly at Hagrid, who waved back.

The boat ride across the lake was breathtaking, and during it he met a rather shy boy by the name of Neville, who was clutching a toad in his hands like it was his life line. Harry didn't pay much attention to the speech that was made when they stopped in the arrival chamber outside of the Great Hall, but he did however notice the ghosts that flew above their heads. Taking note of this, he turned back around and waited for them to be summoned in to be sorted.

It didn't take very long for the Professor to summon them, and the entire group walked up to the front, where a stool and an old hat was sat waiting for them. While the hat being able to talk was of some interest to him, Harry tuned out the offkey song it sang, and was off in his own world when he heard his name called. Walking up to the stool, he sat, and the hat covered his eyes moments later.

"Ah, so the famous Harry Potter," The hat spoke, and Harry mentally huffed.

"I can't be that bloody famous. I don't even remember what I did!" Harry thought, annoyed, earning a chuckle.

"That you do not. Expect to soon, though," The had chirped, and Harry got the feeling it knew more than it was going to tell.

"What house do you think I belong in?" Harry wondered, and the hat grumbled.

"Anxious to sit with Mssrs. Weasley, I see, although I don't thing Gryffindor suits you well. You have a sharp mind, but only for things that interest you, and while you are loyal and hard working, it is not to a fault," the hat muttered, and harry rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"So the logical choice is Slytherin, isn't it?" He asked mentally, and he felt more than heard the hat agree.

"Slytherin!" It bellowed, and the Great Hall went silent. Lifting the hat off of his head, Harry handed it to the Professor and trotted to the table he now belonged to, unbothered by the stares he was receiving, even from the staff. Sitting down, he introduced himself quietly to the boys around him, ignoring Malfoy, who just sneered at him with distaste. Soon enough, the sorting was done, as well as a fairly short but odd speech from the Headmaster, who Harry pegged as a bit of a nutter.

"Is the Headmaster nuts, or just overly excited about school?" Harry asked one of the upper years, who choked on his mashed potatoes whilst trying not to laugh at the bluntness of the question.

"We ask ourselves the same thing every year, Potter. He's old and most likely going out of his mind," the upper year, who had introduced himself as Marcus Flint, stated, looking up at the staff table with a look of disdain, and Harry wondered if it was common for all Slytherins to just have an air of superiority about them. Shrugging the thought off, he finished his meal and then the desert that appeared afterwards quietly.

Once the meal was over, the first years were escorted to the Slytherin common area, and were told to wait for their Head of House to arrive to speak with them about their dorm rooms and the expectations. It didn't take too long before a tall man with jaw-length black hair swept into the room, a sour look on his face.

"First years. My name is Professor Snape. I will be your potions Professor for the next seven years. As your head of house, I expect you to do well in my classes, as well as every other class you will have during your tenure at this school. I do not tolerate disobedience, fooling around, or fighting with your peers outside of this common room. You will put up a united front to the rest of the school, regardless of whether you like your classmates or not. If you have an issue with another student from another house, settle it in a mature matter. If not, do not get caught. Slytherin house values Ambition, Drive, and above all, Unity. Do not disappoint me. Your curfew will be 9pm until Third year, when it will go to 10. If you are caught up and about after your curfew, you will serve detention with me. If you have any questions, you can ask one of the Slytherin Prefects, or come to my office during the posted hours. Get a good nights sleep, because a prefect will be by in the morning to take you to the great hall for breakfast at 8am sharp. Do not be late," He finished this with a hard look at Harry, who was a bit taken aback by the loathing in his eyes. Turning, he swept out of the room, his black cloak billowing out behind him, making him look like an overly large bat.

Turning towards his classmates, he was glad to note that he was not the only one slightly disturbed by his Head of House's blunt words. Most were already scrambling up towards the dorm entrances, even though it was only now 8:30. Shrugging, Harry made his way to his dorm room, and was pleased to notice that his trunk had been placed far away from Malfoy's on the opposite side of the large room. His bed was made up of dark oak wood and emerald green bedding, which suited him just fine. Slipping into his pajamas, he crawled under the blankets and closed his eyes, and was asleep within moments.

So, I noticed that a LOT of people really liked this fanfic when I first put it out, and I decided that I couldn't let it stay the way it was. So, I am rewriting it and while I am changing a few things, in the long run a lot of it will stay the same. Although, I will be spacing out the events a bit more and adding in a little bit more detail so it isn't a rollercoaster ride for you guys to try and keep up with. Also, My other Harry Potter fanfic is being rewritten, so if you wanna check that one out and give me some feedback, it would be really appreciated.

Anywho, I'll end this little note here. Goodnight, y'all!