Disclaimer: I’ve always wanted to write one of these! I made no profit from this story! None at all! These are not my characters. Did you think they were? If so I think you have been living under a rock and I wonder how on Earth you even came to read my writing.

 

Ohh. And this is my first ever attempt at fiction. I’m sure I will get better.

 

Summary: My own version of Harry sorted into slytherin! The main diversion for me being that Hagrid is not the one to pick up Harry from the Dursleys. Instead a Slytherin Kettleburn picks him up. Thereby ensuring a less pro-Gryffindor/anti-slytherin introduction for Harry. The result? He goes into the sorting with no preference and winds up in Slytherin. My goal in this story? Mostly to try and have fun writing it, and sharpen my fiction skills. That’s the personal goal anyway. In terms of plot? I honestly feel slytherins are given short shrift. I have a hard time buying that 1/4^th of all children are destined for “evil” because a ratty old hat sticks them in a house. I strongly feel that if we saw slytherins from the inside, we would come away with a vastly different perspective. While I will try to keep the characters reacting in what I feel is a realistic way, this *is* an AU. In particular (though I intend to take a while getting there) I intend to explore the following: A new Harry/Draco dynamic. One that probably starts off the same as in the canon but changes towards understanding and friendship due to the close proximity between them as the series progresses. A new Snape/Harry Dynamic… as being in slytherin gives them the chance to get to know each other better and perhaps eventually understand each other. Finally, a look into some of the overlooked dynamics of Slytherin house. Ships? No idea, I haven’t thought that far ahead. Harry is just a firstie right now! He is still in the “sex? ::giggle giggle:: haha! You said SEX” mode. We will see what happens. Ohh. And spoilers to all books! Beware!

 

 

Chapter 1: Professor of Hogwarts

 

Boom!

 

The door rattled again.

 

Uncle Vernon came skidding into the room. “Who’s there? I warn you… I’m armed!”

 

With a smash, the door was blown in, and something vaguely humanoid in appearance stomped in. Dudley squeaked in terror, and Petunia cowered behind Vernon as the… man Harry realized… stepped into the light.

 

Frankly, Harry didn’t blame the Dursleys for being scared: the man seemed fearsome. He appeared to be missing a leg, half his nose and a number of fingers. This wasn’t even counting the scars that criss-crossed his face, making it look like someone had tried to claw his eyes out.

 

“Well.” The strange man thumped into the middle of the room, taking in the stunned Dursleys and Harry. “I’ll be. You people didn’t make this easy did you? Harder to track down than a three-legged kappa.”

 

At the mention of the kappa, whatever that was, Vernon seemed to remember his anger. He puffed himself up, face going red. “Now see here. Who do you think you are sir? I demand you leave at once. At once! You are breaking and entering I tell you!”

 

The man simply ignored Uncle Vernon and instead bent closer to peer at Harry, his scarred face twisting into a grimace. “And you must be Harry Potter? Well good to meet you I suppose.” The man proceeded to look Harry up and down, making Harry feel rather uncomfortable. It was almost like the man was looking for something. “Well. You’re shorter than I expected.” A deep sigh. “Goes to show you can’t buy into the propaganda I suppose, yes?”

 

After a stunned second, a confused Harry spoke up. “Ehr.. I’m sorry sir… who are you? I mean…. well… what’s going on exactly?”

 

The man stuck out his hand… a hand Harry couldn’t help but notice was missing two fingers. “Odin Kettleburn. I have the rather dubious honor of being a Professor at Hogwarts. Care of Magical Creatures.” He added after a pause.

 

Harry felt even more adrift as he hesitantly shook the man’s hand. “Sir?”

 

“Hog…warts…” Kettleburn enunciated as though Harry were slightly deaf or dumb. “You’ve heard of Hogwarts yes?” At Harry’s mute head shake Kettleburn looked stunned.

 

“No? No? Galloping Griffins boy, where on earth do you think your mother and father learned it all from? Just placed in their heads by Merlin himself?” A deeper sigh, and then half to himself. “This is why I hate this job. If it’s not crazed hippogriffs it's slack-jawed first-years.”

 

If anything Harry felt even more confused by this strange man’s explanation. Nervously, he pushed back his bangs and tried again. “My mum and dad sir? What do you mean where they learned it from? What’s ‘it all’?”

 

For the first time Kettleburn seemed taken aback. Harry actually counted to five in his head before the man replied. “I’m talking about magic boy.” Kettleburn sent a martyred look at the Dursleys. “I just assumed the Muggles were too dense to figure out how to use the post. Turns out they were just stupid enough to think they could keep ‘Harry Potter’ from his destiny.”

 

At that Kettleburn turned to Uncle Vernon. “I have to say sir. I am disappointed. HIGHLY disappointed.” The professor’s voice rose in volume as he went on. “For forty years… forty years I have been teaching the densest, the most hopeless, the most incompetent students to ever set foot on the island of Britain. And do you know what has gotten me through it? Through the dragons burning down my house, the bowtruckles biting my fingers off… all of it? The thought that… someday… someday…” Here Kettleburn’s voice took on a wistful tone. “ I would be able to retire. A nice… quite… retirement. Away from the animals and the children and the insanity. Go to a nice Muggle village where no one has ever heard of “hippogriff” and keep what’s left of my limbs.” A deep breath. “Now I find out that Muggles are as hopeless as wizards.” Yet another martyred sigh. “Not that I’m surprised. Why shouldn’t Muggles have their share of idiots too? Enough to make a man cry. Retire to live with a bunch of Muggle idiots. Or keep on working with a bunch of wizard idiots. Ahh, aren’t choices wonderful?”

 

At that last comment, Kettleburn seemed to remember Harry was there. “Ohh. Yes. Your question…. You are a wizard Harry. Rather famous one too. Parents were killed by an evil wizard. You killed him. Hogwarts is a school to train wizards. If your idiot relatives checked their mail like rational adults you would know all this. I’ve been sent by Dumbledore to make sure you adjust to the wizarding world in an acceptable manner. Questions? None? Good. Excellent.”

 

Harry was rather taken aback. Truth be told, he was starting to think the man was more likely to be crazy than a wizard. “Muggle?” He had no idea why that was the first thing to pop into his head. “ I mean.. I think you must be confused sir. My parents died in a car crash see?”

 

“Murdering Mer-pirates. Lilly and James Potter killed in a car crash?” The man seemed almost scandalized. “Not a chance. Not a chance in the world.”

 

Kettleburn threw back his head and let out a bark of ironic laughter. “Highly ironic. Harry Potter not knowing h is own story, when every witch and wizard in Britain knows it by heart. You’re famous boy.”

 

Kettleburn proceeded to look him up and down yet again. “Not that you seem all that special in person. Still, your reputation precedes you, so to speak.” Another bark of laughter. “You might as well be a Muggle yourself. Harry Potter, a Muggle!”

 

That was said with a sort of dismissive quality that Harry wasn’t sure he liked. “A Muggle, sir?” he asked again, a touch of anger in his voice.

 

“Folks who can’t do magic. Rather like those.” He gestured to the Dursleys huddled together in the corner. “Biggest lot of Muggles I ever laid eyes on.”

 

Once again Vernon seemed to find his courage as he stomped forward. “We swore when we took him in we’d put a stop to that rubbish. Swore we’d stamp it out of him! Wizard indeed! Over my dead body!”

 

Kettleburn pulled a long stick from somewhere on his person, strange sparks spurting from it. “You sure about that Dursley?”

 

At the same time, Harry rounded on his aunt and uncle in anger. “Wait? This is true? I’m a wizard?” Harry clenched his fist feeling anger surge through him. “You knew about all this?”

 

“Knew!” shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. “Knew! Of course we knew! How could you not be one, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that... that... school... I was the only one who saw her for what she was – a freak!”

 

The word “freak” rang in the sudden silence of the room, as a suddenly calm Kettleburn turned to face Harry again. Though Harry couldn’t help but notice the strange glowing stick remained pointed at the Dursleys, something that seemed to go a long way in keeping his aunt and uncle quite.

 

“Well.” The professor seemed to chew on Petunia’s words for a moment. “I have to say this is unexpected. Changes everything.” Then rather mournfully to Harry. “This always happens to me you know? The easy assignment turns into the difficult one.”

 

He seemed to gnaw on the side of his cheek for another moment. “You really know nothing about how your parents died?” At Harry’s nod, Kettleburn went on. “Well. Someone has to tell you. If only so you don’t look a complete fool when you meet other wizards.

 

“See, it begins of course with the Dark Lord…”

 

Harry couldn’t help but chime in. “Who?”

 

“Gulping Gargoyles boy. I don’t like saying his name. People are still scared of him see? And rightly so too. But well…” Kettleburn leaned in close enough that Harry could smell the faintly garlic scent of his breath. “He’s called…. Voldemort.”

 

Kettleburn leaned back at that, making sure Harry was suitably impressed before continuing. “Anyway, this wizard. He was taking over. Terrible things were happening; People were being killed left and right. Dark times. Near as I can tell, Dumbledore was the only one the Dark Lord ever feared.

           

“Your mum and dad were in the thick of it. Too close to Dumbledore I suppose. Never wanted anything to do with the Dark Lord. No ones really sure why he showed up at your parents village \, they probably had just opposed him one too many times. Anyway, on Halloween ten years ago…. Well. You Know Who killed them.” At this Kettleburn gave Harry a rather awkward pat on the shoulder.

 

“Tried to kill you, too. Wanted to make a clean job of it, I suppose.” A scarred finger jabbed at the scar on Harry’s forehead. “That’s no ordinary cut though, boy. He tried a powerful curse on you, Harry. But it didn’t work. Why, you are famous, now. No one ever lived after he decided to kill them. No one. Yet you lived, just a baby too, with nothing but a scar to show for it.” The finger moved closer to Harry’s forehead, almost as if Kettleburn wanted to touch it. Just before Harry could jerk his head away though, the man pulled his finger back.

 

“Load of tosh!” Vernon Dursley spoke up. “I always knew….

 

Kettleburn pivoted on him, wand raised. “I may have to put up with whining brats, but Merlin be damned if I’ll be insulted by a *muggle*!” At that Kettleburn flourished his wand (or so Harry assumed it was by this point) at Uncle Vernon. And just like that, Vernon stopped in mid-sentence, hands grabbing at his throat as he choked on what looked like feathers.

 

Kettleburn dusted off his hands, giving one last glare to the Dursleys. “Much better. Now where was I?”

 

It was all Harry could do to stifle a giggle as Uncle Vernon continued to cough up feathers. “But what happened to Vol – sorry I mean… The Dark Lord?”

 

Kettleburn looked vaguely surprised. “That’s actually the right question to ask. No one really knows. He disappeared the same night he attacked you. Why you’re so famous really. Some say he is dead. I’m not so sure though.” A shrug. “Doesn’t matter really, I suppose. He is gone anyway.”

 

Harry’s head was spinning as he tried to take all of these details in. Him a wizard? How could that possibly be? He had spent his life being clouted by the Dursleys. If he was really a wizard why hadn’t they all been turned into toads? If he had defeated the greatest wizard to ever live, how was it Dudley could kick him around like a football?

 

“Sir…” he spoke up quietly. “Are you sure you haven’t made a mistake? I… I don’t think I can be a wizard.”

 

Kettleburn rolled his eyes. “Magic save me, is there anything more trying to the patience than an eleven year old?” He continued before Harry could decide if he should be taking offence at that comment. “Do you think I make it a habit to treck after muggle families because it’s fun? I assure you, if there was even a chance you were not a wizard, I would be at home, warm, comfortable, and without the headache this lot” a hand wave in the direction of the Dursleys “have given me. I say you are a Wizard. Headmaster Dumbledore says you are a wizard. Who are you to argue with us?”

 

Harry opened and closed his mouth twice, not convinced but not sure what to say. Taking pity on him Kettleburn sighed. “Never made things happen when you were scared or angry?”

 

Harry paused to consider the professors words. Now that he thought about it, very odd things had always happened whenever his aunt and uncle were furious with him. That time when Harry had found himself on the roof after being chased by Dudley’s gang, or the incident with the boa constrictor. Harry couldn’t help the grin that slowly spread across his face. He was a wizard! Even Kettleburn seemed vaguely pleased as he looked down on a grinning Harry.

 

To their left though, Vernon had finally finished coughing out the last of the feathers and looked even more furious than usual. The vein in his forehead seemed as though it were about burst. “Haven’t I told you he’s not going? I’ve read the letters and he needs all sorts of rubbish. Spell books, wands… “

 

Kettleburn lifted up his wand again and Uncle Vernon stuttered into silence. “Did you just try to tell me what I was and was not going to do?” The professor looked distinctly annoyed. “A word of advice Dursley. Never presume to tell your betters what to do. Especially when your better is an annoyed wizard who is missing his already too short holiday to baby-sit an eleven year old wizard. Potter’s name has been on the list since he was born. He is going to be with his own kind. Seven years at Hogwarts and you won’t recognize him… for which we can all give thanks.” He drew himself up. “Now, Dumbledore…”

 

“I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!” bellowed Uncle Vernon.

 

Kettleburn looked extremely put upon as he gave his wand another little flick and a deafening bang sounded through the room. “Learn your place, Dursley.” He turned to Harry. “I assume you are willing to take up your heritage and come with me to Hogwarts? Yes?”

 

Harry had to admit he was slightly worried himself about the cost of this school, but he was also excited about the idea of magic. Before he could even think about it, he found himself nodding his head vigorously.

 

“Very well then. Considering your….” A delicate pause. “family circumstances shall we say? I think it best if you accompany me now. I will help to get you ready for the school year.” A roll of his eyes. “Somehow I had the feeling this job was going to result in me having to wade through packs of children.”

 

At Harry’s stunned silence he glanced over irritably. “Well? What are you waiting for? Come on now. No. Don’t look to the muggle. Doesn’t matter what he wants. Come on now.”

 

Kettleburn continued to talk as they made their way across the island and towards the boat. “… course I never approved much of Dumbledore myself to be honest. Runs far too loose a ship. Lets you brats” that was delivered more in a despairing tone than an angry one, so Harry kept silent “run wild over the place. A first-rate wizard of course, but a second-rate administrator I say. Not that it matters what I say. And not that I was about to let some Muggle go on about him”

 

An annoyed huff issued from his scarred mouth as Kettleburn looked up at the sky. “Too late to get started today. We’ll spend the night on the mainland. First thing in the morning though, we are off to Diagon alley.” Kettleburn made a vague gesture towards Harry with his maimed hand, almost as though he was going to pat him on the back but was stopping himself at the last moment.

 

“Not that I mind you too much.” He added… almost kindly. “You are better than most of your lot I grant you. Quiet for your age, thank Merlin. Better company than the Quinotaur I was trying to tame back at the school. Nasty tempers those have….” Here Kettleburn looked rather mournfully at a long scar starting at his palm and disappearing up his sleeve. Harry made a mental note to avoid Quinotaurs, whatever they were. “Still, I have to be honest,” Kettleburn went on. “I’m rather tired of this whole scene…. All the screaming children, and the screaming animals, and the screaming parents. You know how it is. But we will sort you all out in the morning, yes?”

 

Kettleburn looked to Harry as though expecting sympathy or perhaps just agreement, so Harry dutifully nodded. If he was honest, he still had some reservations about the strange, rather melancholy professor, but anything was better than the Dursleys. Not to mention the fact that he couldn’t pass up a chance to learn more about his parents. Or magic.

 

All in all it had been an interesting birthday for Harry Potter. The best one ever, even if he hadn’t gotten any gifts. He wasn’t sure what tomorrow was going to bring, but one thing was for sure; he couldn’t wait to find out.