He stood in the line with the other fidgeting first years, a proud smile on his face. Standing on his left is a boy far to short for his age, with straight black hair and intense blue eyes. When he first talked to the boy, his dark blue eyes made him squirm. On his right side is a gorilla-like body-guard for the blonde who radiates arrogance. The blonde boy is the only other first year who isn't showing signs of being nervous. Nail's are being bitten, lips are being chewed raw, eyes are bloodshot, tiny frames are trembling. Nobody looks at the same table for too long, terrified if that's going to be their rival house or the house they might fail in the seven years to come. He didn't blame any of them for being nervous, this moment would define their life path. It would choose their friends, their enemies, their identity.

A short girl with messy blonde curls beamed as she ran off to the cheering table decked in red and gold. Gryffindor. She was the first Gryffindor to be sorted of their year.

They boy beside him is trembling, and he can't help but wonder if he's a muggle-born. If he were pure blood then surely he has heard how the sorting process goes. It's not that nerve-wracking.

"Corner, Michael." said a strict voice.

A thin boy with wavy brown hair and light brown eyes stumbled forward and sat on the four-legged stool. A moment later, he's sitting beside a second year girl with long, curly blonde hair at the blue and bronze table. Ravenclaw. The next boy, Andrew Craft, joins Michael in Ravenclaw.

The burly kid standing beside him stumbled toward the green and silver table. Slytherin.

"Cross, Lucifer."

The trembling boy beside him gave a small squeak and shuffled up to the stool, terror sparkling in his blue eyes. It took a minute, but soon he's sitting beside the Slytherin prefect, Gemma Farley.

More names are being called and more first years are running off in different directions.

And then; "Longbottom, Neville."

Whispers erupt all over the hall.

"Longbottom?"

"Did she say Longbottom?"

"The Neville Longbottom?"

The Boy-who-lived's round face gets blocked from view by the old hat.

No house has given as big of a cheer as Gryffindor did when Neville Longbottom joined them.

Then it's Morag MacDougal strutting off to the table that reminded him of bumblebees. Black and yellow. Hufflepuff. Ernie MacMillin isn't that far behind Morag, sitting next to him at Hufflepuff.

"Malfoy, Draco." is called and the proud blonde is strutting off to the Slytherin table, taking the empty seat beside Lucifer Cross.

Before he even realized it, they had reached, "Petillo, Carter." who scrambled off to the Hufflepuff table to sit between Ernie and Morag.

Then it was, "Potter, Harry." being called and he walked up to the four-legged stool. He sat down, all eyes on him, and blinked himself into darkness. The sorting hat had slid over his eyes and a voice started mumbling in his ear. It mumbled about the thoughts swimming around in his head. About what house would help him on the path to greatness. About the thirst to prove himself that's making his throat dry up.

Almost all to fast, Harry Potter was walking toward the cheering Slytherin table. He slipped into the seat next to Theodore Nott, across from Lucifer and Draco. The prefect shook his hand and introduced herself, Gemma. She'll be gone in two years. Jess Winkle walked down a few seats to introduce himself also. He's the other Slytherin prefect, and he'll also be gone in two years.

The sorting ceremony continues and Daniel White joins Gryffindor and Blaise Zabini sits beside Harry.

The feast began after that and food appears on gold platters and the great hall slowly became too noisy.

Laughter echoes, hands are shook, teeth are flashing behind wide grins. The Great Hall fills to the brim with the murmurs of too many conversations happening at once. Harry nodded along to what Blaise was saying and smiled at Lucifer and Draco when they glance at him. He hummed in response to Theo's ramblings and raised an eyebrow at Gemma. He slowly added one bite after another in his mouth until an obnoxious laugh carried across the hall, far too loud to his ears. It carried through the stuffy air and reminded Harry of where he was.

He will never remember how he got to the first floor bathroom so fast, but he had his head in the toilet either way. Everything he ate in the day is burning his throat as it works it's way out his mouth again, mixed with stomach acid. Harry coughed and he spluttered, but now that it's started, his stomach won't stop releasing everything it's been trying to digest. Tears well up in Harry's emerald eyes as his stomach lurched again. Then there's a warm hand on his back, and a cold one taking off his glasses. There's a tan one holding a phial in front of his face and that same cold one that took off his glasses is now on his wet cheek, tilting his head back. Glass touched his lips and liquid slid down his throat. The potion dropped into his abusive stomach and it lurched again. Harry thought, for a moment, he'll start barfing again, but instead, his stomach took pity on him and settled down. It must've been the potion.

His glasses are held in front of his face, so he took them with a trembling hand and slipped them on his face again.

Is this going to be a regular occurrence?" said a kind voice, no sarcasm, no venom. Just concern.

Harry turned slightly and saw the warm face of Slytherin prefect, Jess. He beamed at Harry then stood up. Harry's head fell forward, though, due to pure exhaustion, and his eyes droop shut. His shoulders sag, and he very vaguely hears Jess sigh. Two hands slip under his arms and hoist him to his feet.

"I'm not proud of this." Harry mumbled as he drags his feet out of the cubicle. Standing there, waiting patiently, eyes glued to the tiled floor, is Draco and Lucifer. 'There must of been the other people helping me?' Harry thought.

"It's a sickness." he mumbled again, not sure who he's talking too. His mind was foggy with exhaustion and he wasn't quite registering what he was saying before it tumbled past his lips. Lucifer stepped forward uneasily and threw Harry's right arm around his shoulder. Harry unconsciously leaned onto Lucifer and nodded lazily when Draco asked, "So, this is going to be a regular occurrence?"

Later that night, Harry laid wide awake in the first year Slytherin dorms, thinking about what his parents would say once they find out that he's a Slytherin. His mother was a Gryffindor and so were all of the Potter's in history.

The taste of vomit still lingered at the back of Harry's throat.

The fire died out in the dorm an hour ago, leaving the room bathed in an eerie green glow. Being in the dungeons meant living under water. The pale moonlight shone through the black lake, and the polluted water of the lake changed the shades of the natural light.

Harry slid off his bed and placed his feet gingerly on the cold floor. He grabbed his wand and lazily cast a tempus charm. Glowing green numbers dance in front of his eyes; 2:02am.

Vincent Crabbe and his best friend, Gregory Goyle, who also resembles a gorilla, snore to loudly to be human. Blaise is mumbling in his sleep and Lucifer is purring. The purring is louder to Harry than anything else, but Harry thinks it's probably because Lucifer's bed is beside his.

As quietly as he can, Harry walked over to his trunk and pushed everything out of the way.

At the very bottom of his trunk is a watery silver-like material. Harry gripped the silk fabric, grabbed a piece of parchment and quill and stood up. He threw the cloak around his shoulders, clipped it from the inside and pulled the hood up.

Just like that, Harry was invisible, protected by the enchantments that is the Invisibility Cloak his father gave him.

The door creaked open as he left but the only person to stir at the sound was Draco.

He almost got lost, but Harry made it to the owlry by 2:36am He called down Hedwig, his snowy owl, and pulled out his self inking quill and the small piece of parchment he pocketed before. He pulled off his cloak, and Hedwig perched herself on his shoulder, and nipped at his ear affectionately. He smiled and stroked her, apologizing for not bringing a treat. Then, he walked up to the window sill, and wrote a few simple words down on his paper,

Mom, dad, I've been sorted into Slytherin. Don't be disappointed, please. I've made really good friends so far. I'm really happy. Neville is a Gryffindor. - Harry.

He folded the worn parchment in half and gave it to Hedwig. She hooted, clamped it between her beak and took off through the window after hearing who the letter was for.

When Harry got back to the dorm, he fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, feeling like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

The first potions lesson of the year made Harry want to laugh so hard he nearly cried. Professor Snape, the potions master, is absolutely terrifying, but he's also head of Slytherin House. Therefore, he favoured those in Slytherin house.

While Snape was doing attendance at the beginning of class, he stopped at Neville's name, and sneered, "Neville Longbottom, our new celebrity."

They were listening to the potions masters long speech intently, until he caused them all to jump out of their skins by barking at Neville, "Longbottom! Tell me, where would I find a bezoar?"

The buck-toothed girl sitting behind him stuck her hand up in the air instantly. She bounced on her stool and wiggled her fingers, but Snape didn't even glance at her.

"I don't know, sir." whimpered Neville.

Harry almost snorted; even he knew this.

Snape hummed and his lips twisted into a cruel smirk. Neville visibly shrank backwards.

"Let's try this again, shall we? What's the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

"I don't know, sir." Neville repeated.

Snape tilted his head to the side slightly, glaring down his hooked nose at the-boy-who-lived. He then spun around with a flourish of his black robes, strode to the front and stared down at the class.

"It seems," he drawled, "that fame isn't everything. You would find a bezoar in the stomach of a goat, emMr. Longbottom/em, and the only difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane is their name. They are physically the same plant. Write that down." his black eyes narrowed, and swept over the class. The sound of books banging against books, rustling fabric, buttons popping and zippers being unzipped filled the air as the students dug around their bags for a quill and parchment.

Instead of writing down what he already knows, Harry wrote down;

"I'm going to piss my pants from laughing" and shoved it closer to Lucifer, who was sitting beside him. Lucifer's eyes briefly scanned over the words before he snorted quietly and wrote back, "Yeah, until it's you that's he's totally hating on."

Harry dragged the paper under the desk, lit it a flame with a twist of his wrist and mumbled out of the corner of his mouth; "True."

The glass ball glittered as Theo Nott held it up to the sunlight.

It's the first flying lesson of the year, and the boy-who-lived, Neville Longbottom, doesn't know how to ride a broom. Twenty feet up in the air, Neville fell of his old broom and broke his wrist. No one was impressed with this, at all, seeing as his mother, Alice Longbottom, was one of the best Gryffindor chasers when she was at Hogwarts. The flying instructor with the yellow eyes and sort grey hair dragged him off to the hospital wing.

He just happened to have dropped his Remembrall.

Ron Weasley, one of the many Weasley Gryffindors stormed up to Theo and demanded, "Oi! Give that back, Nott!"

Theo gripped the ball and dropped his hand to his side. He turned around and looked at Ron calmly, not answering.

In his hand, the smoke in the Remembrall faded to red.

Harry strode up to Theo's side, abandoning his conversation with Lucifer and Blaise. He raised an eyebrow at Ron and replied; "And why should he give it back, Weasley?"

"Because it's Neville's." seethed Ron, face turning as red as his hair. His voice trembled from frustration. He really hates Slytherin's.

"I bet that buffoon already forgot he had it." Theo drawled, and looked down at the ball in his hand. He sneered at the ball, not liking the fact that he forgot something. Before Harry even had a chance to comprehend what he was doing, Theo spun on his heels and threw the ball at the wall. It shattered on impact, and a puff of red-tinted grey smoke danced in the air for a moment before evaporating.

"Bloody hell!" yelled Ron, throwing his arms up in his frustration, "Are you insane? Bloody Slytherins." his hands curled into fists, but he walked away before he could give into temptation and punch Theo in the face.

Theo watched him trudge off to the group of Gryffindor's for a second before shrugging and walking back to Draco, Lucifer and Blaise. Harry stepped up beside him, and asked in a low whisper; "What in the name of Merlin was that?"

"I never forget anything." was Theo's only reply, light brown eyes swirling to nearly black from anger.

All through the year, Harry always had a feeling that there was something wrong with the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Quirrell. He always wore a purple turban, always smelt like garlic and always stuttered.

However, when Harry heard the rumor about what happened in the dungeons, and how Neville Longbottom faced off with Quirrell and how Voldemort was attached to him or his soul or whatever, he thought it made sense.

That doesn't mean he was anymore happy with Gryffindor beating Slytherin and winning the house cup at last minute, though.

On the train ride home from Hogwarts, Lucifer was more quiet than normal.

Harry was sitting with him, Theo, Blaise, and Draco but no one else seemed to notice his silence. Harry was smiling and nodding along with the three other boys but his eyes kept traveling over to Lucifer.

As the sun began to set, Harry stood up, told them he needed to stretch his legs and asked if Lucifer would like to come. The quiet boy shrugged and stood up and Harry, just as he was about to slide the door shut behind him, heard Blaise, Theo and Draco pick up their conversation before Harry interrupted them. Not a single one noticed Lucifers change in character.

They walked in silence for a while, Harry and Lucifer, until Harry said, rather bluntly, "You don't want to go home." without glancing at Lucifer.

"Exactly." answered Lucifer with no hesitation.

"Then don't." Harry glanced at Lucifer quickly.

"Why?"

"What's the point?"

"There's no point in - "

"Why not?"

"Where would I go?

"My parent's wouldn't mind."

It was like they were having two different conversations until Harry said this. Lucifer closed his mouth so fast his jaw popped. He looked at Harry and said quietly, "If I move somewhere else, they'll know I told someone."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"You don't know them." Lucifer's voice was slightly unsettling.

Harry turned around, and started to head back to their compartment, not saying anything. He may not know Lucifer's parents, but he knows of them, and in his opinion, Lucifer shouldn't live there. He shouldn't even be allowed to have contact with them.

"Maybe when I'm older." Came Lucifer's voice, from Harry's left.

"You shouldn't live there, at all. They're monsters."

"They're family."

"No! They aren't!" Harry stopped abruptly and faced the slightly shorter boy, "If they treat you like they do, they are not family. They're no better than Voldemort." Lucifer flinched at the name, which went unnoticed by Harry. Lucifer raised his eyes and met Harry's unwavering green gaze. Harry could see all the gears working behind Lucifer's gaze, all the thoughts running around, screaming and echoing in his ears, all the despair shattering like glass and hope building up slowly like a brick wall.

Tears burned behind Lucifer's eyes and he rubbed at them furiously with the heels of his palms. Harry clapped a hand to his back and started to usher him back to the compartment, his arm around Lucifer's shoulder.

They reached platform 9 and 3/4 not long after that, and Harry beamed at his parents. He said goodbye to Draco, Blaise and Theo, and frowned at Lucifer. His parents looked horribly unpleasant and Draco also seemed bothered by the fact that Lucifer didn't look back at them or say goodbye.