HARRY POTTER!
The Howler’s voice thundered through the Great Hall, slurred with unmistakable drunkenness.
WHEN JIM /hic/ WROTE TO ME ABOUT YOUR SORTING I COULDN’T BELIEVE IT!
I KNEW… JUST KNEW LETTING YOU COME BACK TO US WAS A MISTAKE!
NO POTTER HAS EVER BEEN SORTED INTO SLIMY, SLITHERY, SNAKEY SLYTHERIN!
AND AFTER YOU’RE DONE /hic/ DISGRACING OUR HOUSE, I HOPE NO POTTER EVER IS AGAIN!
I’M /hic/ WARNING YOU NOW—IF YOU STEP ONE FOOT OUT OF LINE, IF YOU GIVE THE TINIEST HINT THAT YOU’RE /hic/ TURNING EVIL OR ANYTHING, I WILL YANK YOU OUT OF THAT SCHOOL AND SNAP YOUR WAND MYSELF!
I WILL DISINHERIT YOU FROM HOUSE POTTER AND HAVE YOU BACK WITH THOSE DURSLEY MUGGLES BEFORE THE SUN SETS!
THIS IS THE ONLY WARNING YOU’RE GOING TO GET!
YOUR HUMILIATED FATHER,
JAMES CHARLUS LORD POTTER
The letter burst into flames disintegrated in a shower of ash.
Silence blanketed the hall.
and
At the staff table, most professors wore expressions of shock and second-hand embarrassment.
Even Dumbledore looked genuinely astonished by the vitriol—and by the obvious fact that James had been drunk when he wrote and sent it.
Lily Potter shot to her feet and stormed out.
Only Severus Snape maintained his usual mask of composure, though a faint glint of savage satisfaction shone in his eyes.
He had thoroughly enjoyed watching James Potter publicly humiliate his own family.
He waited to see how the boy would react.
This moment could make or break Harry Potter in Slytherin House. The source of this chapter is g.com.
Snape expected tears, flight, or at least humiliated silence—something the rest of the House and that revolting twin of his could mock for years.
Instead, to Snape’s astonishment, Harry burst into laughter.
“Amazing!” he declared, still chuckling.
“So my dad’s a drunk as well as an idiot. Good to know.”
He rose smoothly and lifted his glass of pumpkin juice in a mocking salute toward his younger twin across the hall.
“And nicely played, little brother!” he called out with every appearance of good cheer, as though the Howler had been nothing more than an amusing prank.
“Did you have to break curfew to tattle on me last night? Or do petty little rules like that not apply to the Boy-Who-Lived?”
Jim’s face twisted with fury.
He jumped onto the table, knocking over dishes and pitchers.
“YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY, YOU SLYTHERIN FILTH?!” he bellowed.
Harry only laughed harder as he sat back down.
Before Jim could continue, Minerva McGonagall’s voice cracked across the hall like a whip.
“James Potter Jr., sit down this instant! I will not hear another word from you! Twenty points from Gryffindor for disrupting breakfast and insulting another House!”
Jim looked stricken at costing his House points before classes had even begun.
He slowly sank back into his seat, shooting one final hateful glare at Harry, who was calmly wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.
At the Slytherin table, the rest of the House slowly returned to their seats, watching their new housemate with wary fascination.
Once the laughter subsided, Harry returned to his breakfast and quietly reviewed notes for his first Transfiguration class.
His mood remained—bizarrely, to his classmates—cheerful.
“Uh, Potter?” Theo Nott asked timidly.
“Are… are you okay?”
“Never better, Theo. May I call you Theo? I hope that’s not presumptuous. You can call me Harry, of course.”
“Okay… Harry. You took that Howler much better than anyone expected.”
“Oh, that bit of rubbish?” Harry grinned.
“There’s nothing to it. Just a ridiculous man yelling at me. I’ve had far more ridiculous people yelling at me for years, and usually much louder.” He took a bite of toast, chewing thoughtfully before continuing. New chapters come out on g.com first.
“For a long time I put up with that sort of thing because I didn’t know any better and had no other choices. Now I do. You see, Theo, that man imagines he’s my father and that gives him the right to be abusive. But the truth is, he has never been my father in any way that matters. No matter how much he yells or makes a fool of himself, he has no power over me that I don’t allow—and I’ve decided to allow him none at all.” He chuckled softly.
“Actually, it’s good that things came to a head so quickly. I was toying with the idea of at least pretending to be a good son to James Potter. After that display? No. Not a chance. It’s total war now.”
Theo looked at him with something close to awe.
The rest of the Slytherins still seemed convinced he had lost his mind.
Harry turned to Draco.
“Speaking of which, Mr. Malfoy… I know we’re still early in our acquaintance, but might I ask you for a small favour?”
Draco, who for some reason seemed mildly put out that Harry hadn’t asked to use his first name, replied, “What sort of favour, Mr. Potter?” “Would you mind owling your parents and asking if they could recommend a good solicitor?
One experienced in Wizengamot inheritance law?” Draco Malfoy stared at the brother of the Boy-Who-Lived for a long moment.
Then he threw his head back and laughed.
Later that evening, Harry sat alone in the Slytherin common room finishing his homework for the first day.
Despite his father’s tantrum, classes had gone reasonably well.
He had yet to master turning matchsticks into needles in Transfiguration—though no one else in first year had either—but he had earned two points in Charms.
He had also begun forming tentative alliances.
“Friends” might be premature, but he was optimistic.
As he stood and stretched, his eye caught a painting above the fireplace: a puff adder curled contentedly over books on a writing desk.
Feeling slightly ridiculous, Harry glanced around to ensure he was alone, then focused on the snake.
“Um… hello. My name’s Harry,” he said softly.
The painted serpent twitched, lifted its head, and hissed a reply.
Harry smiled warmly.
Another friendship—of a rather different sort—had just been born.