I've always been a fan of the Slytherin!Harry genre, but a lot of the fics in it annoyed me, either because of character bashing, or more generally because they have no notion of proportion when dealing with interactions between eleven year olds.

There are, of course, many Slytherin!Harry fics I've greatly appreciated. I would especially recommend Mira Mirth's On the Way to Greatness. However, I thought it was time to actually show the world my own take on the subject, and here we are.

I of course do not own Harry Potter. Some of the dialogue, which I would have to reproduce in one form or another, even if just paraphrase, is taken from PS/SS. I tried to keep it to a minimum, but I didn't think paraphrasing was worth the bother.

So, without further ado, I present the first chapter of Out of the Depths.

"O tan-faced prairie-boy!
Before you came to camp, came many a welcome gift;
Praises and presents came, and nourishing food—till at last, among the recruits,
You came, taciturn, with nothing to give—we but look'd on each other,
When lo! more than all the gifts of the world, you gave me."

Walt Whitman

It was getting embarrassing. It was not often that passers-bys saw an eleven year old carrying a massive wooden trunk and an owl cage, complete with the owl. He was starting to get really angry at Hagrid. How could he forget to tell him how to get onto the platform? That was probably the second most important thing he needed to know, the first being, "You're a wizard". He was starting to get lost in his thoughts when the loud words of a plump redheaded woman who seemed to be travelling with her entire extended family reached his ear.

"... packed with Muggles, of course..."

He could instantly tell, by the way she carried herself as though she owned the joint, that she was a witch. Which meant that the amorphous orange blob around her were likely all students going to Hogwarts, like himself. He retreated behind his luggage, but kept an eye out on the gingers' actions. They took a lot of time to do anything, seemingly lost in some inane conversation that Harry couldn't hear, but eventually what looked like the oldest of the children stepped briskly forward towards the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten. Harry recoiled instinctively, expecting him to crash, but instead, when he looked up, the boy was gone. His eyes went wide. Of course, the platform was hidden from muggles, just like Diagon Alley, and rather than tapping bricks, all he had to do was run through a wall. This theory was confirmed when another boy – that he now saw to be one of two twins – pushed his cart through the barrier. Harry could barely believe his eyes as he saw first the boy's luggage disappear, followed quickly by the boy himself.

Now that he knew how to get onto the platform, he hoped these people would hurry up. He didn't dare show himself to them, afraid that the scene at the Leaky Cauldron would repeat itself. Despite – or perhaps because of – his years of solitude at the Dursleys, he found he did not enjoy being put in the spotlight. It made him feel too exposed, and he certainly didn't want strangers swarming him again.

Finally, the pack of redheads had all crossed over, and he slowly began to make his way toward the barrier. Even though every one of his instincts told him that he was going to crash against it, forcing him to close his eyes in anticipation, he went through the barrier without even noticing it, and came upon a platform packed with people.

"Wicked!" he murmured. Magic was amazing. A sign overhead told the waiting passengers that the train, called the Hogwarts Express, would be departing at eleven. The train itself seemed to have been taken from a museum, steam from its engine floating above the station like a floating cloud of steam. He assumed the resemblance to muggle trains was only superficial; surely wizards wouldn't need to use steam engines, would they?

He had started moving while immersed in this thought, keeping close to the wall and heading toward the end coaches. He figured less people would be boarding at the back, giving him more time to settle in. Around him, many wizards and witches fussed over their children, though he noticed several couples who at least looked like muggles. He assumed their children were the "other kind" – the kind that the blond boy at Madam Malkin's didn't think should be let into Hogwarts.

"Now Daphne, say goodbye to your sister, dear. You won't be seeing her again for a long time," he heard a slender witch say to a girl with long black hair, whom he assumed was Daphne. She looked about his age, so Harry assumed she too was starting Hogwarts that year. Daphne bent down and hugged her smaller sister, who appeared both embarrassed and pleased, despite trying to disguise the latter. "Bye, Astoria," the older girl said. "I'll tell you all about Hogwarts when I come home for Christmas."

Harry smiled a melancholy smile at this display, as he continued to push his cart down the platform, finally reaching the penultimate coach. He struggled to get his trunk on board, but fortunately his Dickensian childhood had given him a gift for seemingly impossible tasks, and after much huffing and puffing he managed to drag it to a compartment. After finally tucking it away safely for the journey, he let himself fall into the seat closest to the window, under which he had stowed the trunk, and let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. He was there. On the train to Hogwarts. Finally away from his so-called relations, and he was going to learn magic. Yes, the world wasn't such a bad place after all.

He was so overjoyed he barely heard the train whistle and only realized that they were moving when it started to accelerate through the London suburbs. His peace was interrupted by the loud clanking of wood on metal. He could tell someone was trying to move their trunk with even less success than he'd just had. Feeling charitable, he got up and slid the compartment door open, poking his head out in the direction of the noise.

"Need help with that, mate?" He asked of the trunk's owner, a tall, stringy boy with black hair. The boy was as skinny as Harry, but clearly less used to manual work, for he looked back at him with immense relief showing in his eyes.

"Would you? My father helped me hoist it onto the train, but I guess he never thought I'd need to drag it after I was inside..." Harry laughed and grabbed one of the handles, as the boy did the same on the other side. Instinctively, he walked in reverse toward his old compartment, not even thinking that the hazel-eyed boy might have had other plans. The new trunk was safely resting beside its brother when Harry even considered that possibility.

"Er, I hope you didn't have any particular destination in mind…" he trailed off, mostly afraid he'd have to pick up the heavy chest again; however, that motivation probably took the back seat to a deep desire for companionship. Fortunately, his worries were for naught, as the boy sat across from him and looked up at the ceiling in exhaustion.

Seemingly speaking to the ceiling, the boy shrugged as he regained his breath, and asked dryly, "Well, this is the train to Hogwarts, isn't it?" There was a moment of silence before Harry snickered. The boy lowered his head and grinned at him. "This is fine. I'm Theodore Nott, by the way," he introduced himself, extending his hand. Harry quickly shook it.

"Harry Potter..." he trailed off, hoping he didn't get the reaction he did before. Whatever reaction he expected, however, wasn't what Theodore displayed, for he just looked at him slack-jawed with an expression he couldn't identify. His face was wiped clear of emotion within a few seconds, and he spoke with a very detached voice.

"Are you really? Well, you look nothing like in the stories."

Harry couldn't believe his ears. "There are stories about me?"

Nott blinked at that. "Well, there are children's books featuring you. I got one for Christmas once, from a distant cousin... But how can you not know that?" He seemed more puzzled than anything.

Harry flushed a little as he asked this question, painfully aware of how ignorant he was of the wizard world. "I didn't know I was a wizard until last month. I was raised by my muggle relatives, and they hate magic, so they didn't tell me anything about it."

Theodore was clearly shocked. "What? I'd heard that you had to live with muggles, but why wouldn't they tell you anything? Surely there was someone watching over you?"

Harry just shrugged. He did find it odd, now that he really thought about it. If he was so important, why hadn't anyone ever checked on him? Surely they wouldn't tolerate their hero being treated like a bloody servant. The anger he started to feel at this realization must have shown on his face, because Nott leaned back and looked at him like he was seeing him for the first time.

"You're serious, aren't you? You really were raised by bloody muggles."

Harry looked sheepishly at Nott. He was really embarrassed at not knowing much about magic, and he resented the Dursleys for withholding it from him all his life. But more than that, he hated the fact that no wizard had ever deigned to check on him. He finally nodded. "Yea, it was bad..." He trailed off, desperate to change the subject. He grabbed onto the first thought that occurred to him.

"How about you? Are all your family wizards?" The other boy looked downcast at this. "They are. But it's really just me and father. My mum died two years ago and I don't have any siblings, so..." He trailed off.

"Oh. I'm sorry." He was; he had never known his own parents, and he missed them terribly, even though he knew he was missing the idea of having parents more than his actual parents. Somehow, the idea of knowing them before losing them seemed even worse. Theodore shrugged, though Harry noticed he was avoiding his gaze.

"It's alright, you didn't know..." Nott's eyes drifted towards the window, and Harry sat back and let him enjoy his silence. It wasn't awkward, even though they'd just met. It was as if some old longing had settled in the compartment, and they were both lost to it. Theodore on what had been, Harry on what could have been.

He couldn't tell how long they had been lost in that solemn silence, but they were eventually interrupted by a smiling, dimpled witch who opened the compartment door to expose a food cart. "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Harry hadn't had anything for breakfast, so he got up to examine the cart's contents. He wasn't sure what half the things on it were, and despite his newfound fortune, his old habit of frugal living wouldn't let him splurge on candy from the cart even though he was sorely tempted to do so. He took out his money pouch and bought a couple of sandwiches, and turned back to bump into Nott. He hadn't even heard him get up, and he drew back, startled. Nott grinned and got himself some nondescript food, while Harry returned to his seat after navigating around the taller boy.

After they'd both made themselves comfortable again, Harry commented between bites, "I didn't even hear you get up. How did you do that? Magic?"

Theodore laughed with a sly look. "Not magic, just practice. In our old crooked house, you can hardly move without something creaking, but I've always liked to wander around at night. So I had to develop some stealth skills. Doesn't mean I never got caught though," he added with a grimace, and Harry imagined he was recalling some punishments he had been subjected to for being caught. Harry knew from experience how bad that could get. They stayed silent for long after the food was eaten, each one ruminating over his thoughts. Eventually, remembrance of his trip to Diagon Alley prompted him to break the pleasant silence.

"When we get to Hogwarts, how do they decide which house to put you in?" He was genuinely curious. What was the point of the house thing anyway? he wondered.

Theodore just shrugged. "My father wouldn't tell me, though he did warn me to disregard any outrageous rumours. Some kid on the platform was saying that we had to try on a talking hat, if you can believe it!" They both laughed. "It has something to do with your personality though, I'm sure of it." Theodore had unconsciously adopted a lofty tone during his explanation, which amused Harry greatly. "Gryffindor is the house of the brave and brazen. Ravenclaw is for those who pursue knowledge and wisdom. Hufflepuff is based on equality, diversity and hard work, while Slytherin is the house of cunning and ambition." Theodore finished his mini-lecture, prompting Harry to deliver the follow up.

"What house do you think you'll be in, then?" he asked.

Theodore looked somewhat conflicted at this. "Well, my father will be really disappointed if I don't get into Slytherin. Everyone in my family has been a Slytherin for generations…. But I think I will be a Ravenclaw." He bit his lip. "I guess you wouldn't know, but we don't have schools before Hogwarts, so I was just home-schooled." He looked embarrassed and seemed to be looking for words to put something delicately. "My father doesn't really have a lot of family friends, so it was basically just me and my parents growing up. I didn't have anything to do so I just read a lot… anything I could get my hands on."

Harry wished he could have had that solace growing up. He did nick one of Dudley's children's books once when he was younger. The fat pig hardly knew how to read, so he hadn't noticed it missing. It was the only book he'd ever owned before receiving the Hogwarts letter, and it sat in his trunk that very moment. Even though it was a very childish story, he didn't think he would ever be able to throw it away.

He must have drifted away in his thoughts, because Nott suddenly poked him. "Are you awake, Potter?"

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Sorry, something you said just brought back memories… What were you saying?"

"I was asking which House you think you'll be in." A great question, Harry thought, but one he didn't have an answer for. He didn't think he really had any of the qualities Nott had described, and a dread washed over him like a bucked of cold water. What if he was found unworthy of any of the Houses, and sent back to the Dursleys?

"I.. I'm not sure. I guess we'll just have to find out when we get the-" he was interrupted by a bushy head poking through the compartment door. The body attached to it soon followed: a brown haired girl of around their age, who was already sporting her new Hogwarts robes..

"Have any of you seen a toad?" she demanded, standing in the middle of their compartment. Harry frowned. Her tone of voice was very bossy and it reminded him vaguely of Aunt Petunia.

That likeness was partly why he sounded so harsh when he replied, "Why would we have seen a toad? We're on a train. Did you hit your head somewhere?" She looked extremely flustered at this and huffed.

"A boy named Neville just lost his, for your information. And you shouldn't talk like that to people, it's rude."

At this, Nott leaned forward and took Harry's side. "What do you call just barging in without warning and just asking us about toads? If that's not rude, what is? Of course we'd think you're mental. Try saying hello first, next time."

The girl just looked even more self-important, if that was possible. "In any case, we're almost at Hogwarts, so you'd better put on your robes if you don't want to get sent back home." With a self-satisfied smirk, she left them with that Parthian shot.

Harry and Nott grumbled a little to each other, but the train did seem to be slowing down. They hurriedly got their robes on, finishing just as a disembodied voice announced that "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately."

"Well, that's a relief," Harry breathed. "I wasn't fancying having to carry that thing all the way to school." Theodore's only reply was a grimace, after which they got up and headed into the corridor as the train slowed down and ground smoothly to a halt. They jumped down onto the platform and hurried through the crowd of students towards the front of the train, where a familiar voice was calling out, "Firs' years!"

It was Hagrid! They had just joined the throng of 'firs' years' when they started to move, following Hagrid down a narrow path, lined up with gloomy cedars. The trees seemed to impose a heavy silence on the new students, and no one dared open their mouth. Harry and Theodore were the last in line, and were too focused on keeping track of their footing in the dark evening, with the gamekeeper's light serving as a small beacon.

It was after he rounded a pronounced bent in the path that he saw it: Hogwarts castle, looming against the moonlit sky, its towers majestically dominating the highlands. It was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. The moment was disturbed by Hagrid yelling at students.

"No more'n four to a boat!" he called. Harry and Theodore eventually got into a boat with two girls, one sporting plain short brown hair, and the other an auburn that shone in the moonlight. They shared the boat in awkward silence, but Harry noticed both girls stealing glances at his scar. Annoyed, he flattened his hair over it, after which they both blushed and looked away. One of them looked ready to say something when the gamekeeper ordered them to keep their heads down, just before they entered into a dark, low tunnel.

Eventually, they reached an underground harbour, where they clambered out of the boats. The orderly procession was briefly interrupted when Hagrid stopped to talk to a snivelling boy, but eventually they were all walking through fresh grass until they reached the castle's imposing front doors.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" he heard Hagrid shout. He glanced at Theodore and they both snickered, remembering the absurd bush-haired girl. Perhaps luckily, their laughter was drowned out by Hagrid knocking thrice on the heavy door.

A stern looking, black-haired witch promptly opened it, and took in their measure with a single glance. "The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said respectfully.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." Harry could barely hear her over the commotion the students were making at the sight of the huge entrance hall. It reminded him of Buckingham Palace, which he had once visited on a class field trip, though the flaming torches lining the walls and the magical atmosphere surrounding the whole castle made it seem even more majestic.

As they walked through the imposing corridor, they could make out the noise of hundreds of voices through a door to the side, but they were led into a miserable looking empty ante-chamber.

Professor McGonagall raised her voice to address them for the first time. "Welcome to Hogwarts," she said briskly. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be like your family. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room." She paused, and her eyes swept the room before she continued.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. While I happen to be head of Gryffindor, each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule breaking will lose them. At the end of the year, the House with the most points will be awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours."

"The Sorting will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

She glanced down at the students in the front of the throng with a disapproving expression, and then looked over the students as if searching for someone, until her gaze focused on Harry. She looked slightly surprised. Harry frowned a little at this. Was he going to be gawked at here too, even by his teachers? And what was the need to look so sour, anyway? Living under such a head of house must be very depressing, he thought. She soon collected her wits, though, and continued. "I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

She turned and exited, leaving behind a ponderous silence, broken only by the bushy haired girl from the train, who was muttering something to herself exceedingly fast, though Harry couldn't make it out what it was due to the distance. Considering how nervous he himself was, he did feel a twinge of sympathy for her, even though his concerns were probably much different. Given what he had seen so far, he was rather dreading the end of his temporary anonymity.

He only noticed what was happening after several people ahead of him screamed. Twenty or so ghosts had just floated through a wall into the room. They seemed to be arguing among themselves. He wasn't roused from his thoughts fast enough to catch most of their discussion, but did hear one ghost, wearing a ruff and tights, ask the gathered students,

"I say, what are you all doing here?" Harry rolled his eyes at the question. From his manner of dress, the ghost had to be from hundreds of years ago. Surely he'd know by now what they were doing there!

"New students!" said another ghost, a fat little monk, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?" A few people nodded at this, which encouraged the friar to go on. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."

Cutting short what seemed to be a promising start, Professor McGonagall re-entered the room.

"Move along now," her raspy voice rasped. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." The ghosts starting floating out through another wall as she went on. "Now, form a line and follow me."

The students promptly obeyed, and in the confusion Harry got separated from Theodore. He could still make him out at the end of the line, though, and mouthed a silent 'Good luck' at him. The taller boy grinned at him and nodded, and Harry turned forward and filed out the ante-chamber with the rest of the students.

What he saw next was enough distract him from whatever nervousness that had begun to grip him. They had gone through a second set of double doors into what must have been the Great Hall. It was the most amazing sight Harry had ever seen. The vast expanse was lit by thousands of floating candles. Four tables were laid along the hall's length, one for each of the Hogwarts' Houses, and a fifth was set at the other end of the hall, perpendicular to the others. Harry assumed this was the staff table, for there sat the only adults in the room, bar Professor McGonagall herself.

But the most amazing thing was the ceiling. Or rather, the lack thereof, for while Harry assumed a real ceiling must be there, it seemed as though they were staring directly into the vast expanse of the heavens above. The moon and the stars were twinkling merrily at them in the miraculously cloudless sky, and Harry could not help but feel this was a sign of good things to come. The sight settled his heart and mind. He knew that his life would never be the same again, and for that he wanted to shout for joy.

His momentary bliss was disturbed when the boy behind him, whom he vaguely recognized to be the snivelling boy Hagrid had stopped to talk early on, bumped into him. Harry had stopped in his wonder at the night, without even noticing. He flushed in embarrassment and started walking faster to make up for the lost ground. Eventually, they reached the head table, where they formed a new line ahead of the professors, with the other students all looking at them. Harry tried his best to be inconspicuous, despite knowing that it was all going to be for naught soon, anyway.

Oblivious to his worry, McGonagall was placing a four legged stool in front of them. After that, she placed the rattiest hat he had ever seen on its top. Harry instantly remembered his talk with Nott on the train, and he couldn't help but stare at it as it burst into song!

The hat's first words were lost on Harry, however. He searched for Theodore with his eyes, and found him behind one black boy who was looking around in awe. He had the most unbelieving look Harry had ever seen. He couldn't help but catch his eye and laugh quietly. Theodore shrugged, but he was grinning. Harry brought his attention back to the hat, which was just finishing its song.

"So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause at this, but Harry wasn't sure what to think. In the end he clapped half-heartedly, while the hat bowed to each of the four tables and then became still again.

Harry's nerves returned as the reckoning drew nigh. Professor McGonagall approached with a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pudgy faced little girl with her blonde hair in pigtails stumbled her way toward the stool, and put on the hat for a moment before it shouted "HUFFLEPUFF!"

This prompted cheers from the far right table, which she rushed to join. Harry really wished they could do this privately. It wasn't fair that they had to be exposed like this. It didn't help that he had no idea where he was going to go.

More students were sorted, including the brown haired girl who sat ahead of him in the boat, who turned out to be Tracey Davis: she was sent off to Slytherin. After a few more students had been sorted, the bushy haired witch he met on the train, who he now knew to be "Granger, Hermione", was sorted into Gryffindor. Harry's gaze followed her into the Gryffindor table, where she was greeted boisterously by many of the older students. He cringed inwardly. They seemed to be so much more enthusiastic than everyone else. The Slytherin table was the more subdued, followed by Ravenclaw, but even Hufflepuff didn't overdo it like that.

The girl who he'd seen saying goodbye to her family on Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Daphne Greengrass, was also quickly sorted into Slytherin.

The boy who'd bumped into him earlier, who turned out to be called "Neville Longbottom" (Harry couldn't help but snort), also went to Gryffindor, but not before the Hat took the longest time out of anyone else yet to put him there.

The auburn-haired girl he shared the boat with, Morag MacDougal, was sent to Ravenclaw.

The blond boy whom he'd seen at Madam Malkin's, who turned out to be called Draco Malfoy, swaggered all the way to the stool, where he was sorted into Slytherin almost before the Hat touched his head. He quickly joined his new House table, looking very pleased with himself.

It was Theodore's turn now. He walked up to the hat as a man might walk the long and final mile that takes the condemned to the gallows. He braced himself as he put the Hat on his head, and Harry lost sight of his eyes. Time ticked, and Nott's face seemed to contort in a grimace a few times. It was just over a minute before the hat finally yelled "SLYTHERIN!"

Harry smiled and gave Ted a thumbs up as he strolled toward the Slytherin table, looking as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. Theodore nodded and smiled, relieved, as he took a seat next to the Davis girl.

A couple of twin girls had just been sorted, one into Ravenclaw and the other to Gryffindor, when Professor McGonagall finally called out for "Potter, Harry."

Harry imagined he didn't look any more cheerful than Nott as he strode toward the stool, the Great Hall having just erupted into a flurry of whispers.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

He tried to block out the noise as he found himself looking at the ratty inside of the hat. A slippery voice in his mind startled him.

"My my, what have we here?" Harry made to talk, or at least 'think' back to the hat, but it interrupted him immediately. "No, don't worry Potter. You've a very interesting mind, but I know exactly where to put you. Do come talk to me sometime, and tell me how you've been enjoying SLYTHERIN!" This last word was shouted toward the whole hall.

Harry removed the hat from his head quickly and strode toward the Slytherin table, where the reaction to his sorting was seemingly mixed. Most people were clapping, some politely and others more enthusiastically, but a minority seemed to be casting him shifty and even hateful glances. He frowned, but walked valiantly on anyway.

"Saved you a seat," he heard Nott calling to him. "I knew you'd make it here." He seemed much more at ease now that he had been successfully sorted. A few of the students, including the Prefects, insisted on shaking his hand before he managed to sit down.

The first thing he did after he got himself comfortable was looking at the high table, where he noticed a man with long, oily hair giving him a rather sour look. He asked the second year sitting ahead of him who he was.

"He's our Head of House, Professor Snape. He teaches potions, and he's really strict, but don't worry about it, he is great to us. It's the others who have to fear him." She smirked. "Esther Heathcliff, by the way, Potter. Can't say this was expected, but it's nice having you here." She glanced at the Gryffindor table and smirked.

Harry thanked her absent-mindedly, thinking to himself that if that was his Head of House, he may have avoided McGonagall but wasn't sure he'd gotten a much better deal. He was jerked out of his thoughts by a black boy named Blaise Zabini, who had just been sorted into Slytherin, sitting on his other side. He did his best to welcome him, but the Great Hall fell silent, and Harry looked to the head table for the source of this silence. Blaise had been the last of the first years to be Sorted, and the headmaster rose to speak.

And here we are, the first of hopefully many more chapters to come. I'd appreciate it if you took the time to review. I especially welcome constructive criticism, by which I mean actual concrit, not a torrent of insults disguised as such. But I love every review I may get, so if you don't feel up to leaving concrit, anything is fine. I'd just like to know what you think.

Until then.