Harry Potter is a Slytherin

The following night was very interesting. Harry stole Draco Malfoy's blanket and put it on his own bed so the others would think it was Malfoy's blanket that was missing. Malfoy angrily took the blanket from Crabbe's bed and told him that he would have to sleep with Goyle for the night. However, Crabbe and Goyle spent most of the night arguing over who was hogging the sheets, making it very hard for anyone else to get any sleep.

Before Harry woke up, he expected to find himself in the Gryffindor dormitory with Ron, Neville and the others. However, when he awoke to hear Draco Malfoy complaining loudly about Dumbledore's "Mudbood obsession," a harsh blow of reality hit him. As though this weren't bad enough, Blaise Zabini, who Harry was really starting to dislike, kept asking him why he looked so depressed. Harry carefully avoided both Zabini and Pansy Parkinson as he headed to the Great Hall. He almost walked over to the Gryffindor table, but caught himself just in time.

As he sat down at the Slytherin table, he looked over at the Gryffindors and saw Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown were still as close friends as ever. With him and Ron absent, Neville seemed to have bonded closely with Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who were also still friends. Colin Creevey and his little brother Dennis still seemed to be as much the double act as they had ever been before. However, Hermione, that horrible scar still on the side of her face, was eating all alone...

"Can you remind me how Hermione got that scar on her face?" Harry asked Blaise Zabini. Zabini smiled.

"It was that little troll incident in our first year," he said nastily.

"Oh, you mean when Quirrell let that mountain troll into the school?" Harry asked immediately.

"Quirrell?" Zabini asked in surprise. "What makes you think it was him? I always thought it was you and Draco?"

"Oh, it was," Harry said quickly. "I just misspoke. Anyway, what happened?" Zabini looked taken aback for a moment.

"Well, the troll found Hermione in the girls' bathroom and nearly killed her," Zabini said, sounding very satisfying. "Unfortunately, she was saved by the teachers just in time, but she got left with that dreadful scar for life." Harry nodded, looking at his friendless friend sitting alone and looking very, very bitter.

"Hey, Pot, look at this!" Malfoy shouted suddenly, handing Harry the Daily Prophet. The headline made Harry's heart skip several beats:

BLACK IS INNOCENT AND PETTIGREW IS ALIVE! WHAT ELSE HAS

THE MINISTRY BEEN HIDING FROM YOU?

Sunday night, Hogwarts headmaster Albus Dumbledore made

an astonishing discovery, writes Rita Skeeter, Special

Correspondent. A student, who will go unnamed, presented

the headmaster with a seemingly ordinary garden rat, which

he discovered was actually Peter Pettigrew in Animagi form.

Pettigrew, who the wizading world has believed was a victim

of the mad murder Sirius Black for the past sixteen years, has

admitted that he, in fact, was responsible for the deaths Black

was imprisoned for. Naturally, this has led to public outrage.

As people demand to know how many more innocent people

are locked up in Azkaban, a Ministry official informed us that

they're organizing a committee, which is projected to begin

examining the issue "sometime early next year." This is not

enough for many families, who have had had a loved one

caged in Azkaban for over a decade.

As though this is not enough for the Ministry to swallow, it

was further revealed that James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter

Pettigrew all became Animagi illegally in their time at school

so they could keep their werewolf friend Remus Lupin

company during his transformations. In a private conference

with this reporter, Professor Boyd Hecatomb, who has written

seven books about werewolves, emphasized the danger Potter,

Black and Pettigrew were setting themselves up for.

"Accompanying a werewolf while he transforms is extremely

unsafe," he told us. "Even if you think you know him, while he

is in werewolf form he cannot control his actions."

The sentence for becoming an Animagi illegally is ten years in

Azkaban, but Black, of course, has already served more than his

time and is being set free. Pettigrew, on the other hand, is now

being sent to Azkaban for life for murdering twelve innocent

Muggles and conspiring with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

There is, however, still the question of Remus Lupin, who has

now been Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts

for nearly five years. Although he never illegally became an

Animagius himself, he was well aware that his friends had.

Lupin has now been suspended from his position at Hogwarts,

but there is currently no word on how long a sentence he will

serve.

"I'd estimate between three and eight years in Azkaban," a

haggard Ministry wizard told us.

Professor Lupin was being sent to Azkaban and it was all Harry's fault. Rita Skeeter wrote that he would serve up to eight years just for knowing his friends were illegally Animagi and she was actually illegally an Animagius herself. The nerve of her!

"Isn't this great?!" Malfoy asked cheerfully. "No more Lupin! Personally, I'm not surprised he's a werewolf -- I always knew there was something dodgy about him. I just wish this happened sooner so we could have more time with our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"Who's our new teacher going to be?" Harry asked curiously.

"I dunno," Malfoy replied, "but it can't be anyone worse than Lupin, can it?"

"What about Alastor Moody?" Harry suggested. Malfoy laughed.

"I know Dumbledore's a little flaky, but he's not that crazy!" Malfoy responded. Harry had to hold back a smile.

"Maybe he will hire Moody," Harry said casually, "and when you attack m-- a Gryffindor, he'll turn you into a ferret and bounce you around the room." Malfoy cracked up.

"You've got one wild imagination, Potty-Boy!" he said loudly and laughed.

Harry didn't. He had managed to get Pansy Parkinson off his back and he wasn't going to stop there. Why had he ever played along with all this in the first place? However, he immediately decided to try his best at keeping things friendly. Not that he enjoyed having Draco Malfoy as a friend, but having only Luna Lovegood as a friend in a sea of enemies seemed extraordinarily stupid.

"Draco," he said seriously in what he hoped was reasonably amiable voice, "why do we hate all those Mug-- Mudbloods?"

"'Cause they really smell!" Malfoy laughed. Harry kept the expression on his face straight and Malfoy's laughter soon faded.

"Seriously," he said, "why do we hate them so much? It seems kind of unfair. I'm not questioning it or anything, but I just don't understand it. I thought if anyone could clear it up, it would be you." Perfect, Harry thought proudly.

"Well..." Malfoy said slowly, obviously feeling very proud Harry trusted him enough to confide this, "they're just not the same. They haven't been brought up to know our ways or anything."

"I wasn't either," Harry pointed out. "Remember, I was raised by the Dursleys."

"Well, your parents were still magical," Malfoy said, apparently starting to feel slightly uncomfortable, "goody two-shoes Gryffindors, but still magical. That makes it different."

"How?" Harry asked calmly. Malfoy sighed.

"Well, a person's worth is determined by his lineage," Malfoy explained. "As my father likes to say, a good family can produce a bad egg, but a bad family can never produce a good egg. Surely you would agree that anyone produced, not by a bad family, but by Muggles, would be the worst of the worst?" Harry nodded.

"Okay, that makes sense," he lied, "but what about Hermione Granger. She's Muggle-born, but still the top of every class." Malfoy grinned.

"Yeah, but I bet she isn't doing it alone," he said smartly. "She's a teacher's pet, so they probably give her a lot of extra help to make their star pupil look real good." Harry thought of asking Malfoy how, if that was the case, Hermione became a teacher's pet in the first place, but sensed it would lead nowhere.

"What if a Mudblood ended up in Slytherin?" Harry asked curiously. "What would you do then?"

"Never happen," Malfoy replied tersely.

"But what if it did?" Harry contested. "What if--" He broke off for a moment. "What if your best friend was Muggle-born?" Malfoy looked at him.

"You're not!" he said, sounding apprehensive.

"No," Harry told him, "but I am half-blood." Malfoy stared at him for a few moments as though he had never seen him before.

"That's impossible!" Malfoy said desperately. "Your -- both your parents were magical."

"My mother was Muggle-born," Harry said serenely. "That makes me half-blood." Malfoy looked at him strangely.

"You've never told me that before," he said eventually. Harry's heart raced as he tried to decide what to say next.

"You know, Voldemort's also half-blood," he continued. "His mother was a witch, but his father was a Muggle." Malfoy seemed to be at a complete loss for words.

"M-m-maybe his mother's family was so good it canceled out his M-M-Muggle father," Malfoy suggested anxiously. Harry looked at him for a moment.

"I have to go," he said eventually and headed off towards the entrance hall. He headed for Hermione, who was heading off to a class. She didn't take her eyes off her course when he approached.

"Hermione, we need to talk," he told her. "I know I've probably been really mean in the past, but that's all going to change now." She turned to face him.

"I am a human being and if you think you can just treat me like this you're wrong!" she spat at him. It sounded very rehearsed.

"Okay..." he said, "what d'you--" But she had already turned and walked off. Harry stood, rooted to the spot, for a moment, and then decided to try to visit Hagrid again. Maybe he would be easier to convince.

"Potter!" a voice said abruptly. Harry flinched and turned around. It was Professor McGonagall, walking towards him and looking very serious.

"I want to see you in my office now," she told him seriously. Harry followed her, keeping his head down as he headed to McGonagall's office, which was still in exactly the same place as it had always been.

"Sit," McGonagall said, pointing at a chair. Harry did so as McGonagall sat down behind her own desk.

"What is it, Professor?" Harry asked, looking at his knees. There was silence for a moment.

"Potter," she said, "are you willing to explain how you got into the Gryffindor common room now? Don't try to avoid the issue. I want the truth." The truth -- well, it was worth a try.

"Professor," Harry said calmly, turning to look up at McGonagall's face, "before I went to bed Saturday night the world was entirely different."

"What does this have to do with how you got into Gryffindor Tower?" McGonagall asked him huffily.

"I'll get to that," Harry said quickly. "Anyway, as I remember it, I was in Gryffindor then."

"Yes, you were in Gryffindor Tower," McGonagall told him. "I want to know how you accomplished that."

"No, I mean I actually was in Gryffindor," Harry told her. "That's how I knew the password. That's why I was in there searching for Ron. Because, before I went to bed on Saturday I was in Gryffindor and Ron was my best friend." McGonagall looked at him for a moment.

"Do you honestly expect me to believe that tosh?" she asked him. "Everyone in this school knows that can't possibly true."

"I know it seems impossible, but I swear it's true," Harry told her desperately. McGonagall looked at him for a moment -- Harry couldn't tell if she was considering his story or just gazing at him in disbelief.

"There's a rumor that's come up," she told him. "It's probably nothing, but I just thought I'd confront you about it since I had the chance."

"What is it?" Harry asked, hoping it would be something good.

"Remember, this is probably nothing," McGonagall told him, "but there are rumors you raped Hermione Granger."

"What?!" Harry asked in outrage. That couldn't possibly be true.

"Like I said, it's probably nothing," McGonagall said quickly, "but I'll let you off on a warning. If it weren't for the way Professor Snape continuous appeals to keep you in school, you would --"

"Snape appeals for me?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Does that surprise you, Potter?" McGonagall asked him wryly.

"Um, no, Professor," Harry quickly lied. McGonagall looked suspiciously at him for a moment, before going on.

"Speaking of Professor Snape," she said, "you have Potions next. Just don't think you won't expelled because of the way Snape favors you and Mr. Malfoy. Good day."

Potions was a very unusual experience. Though Harry was as scruffy and as bad at potion as ever, Snape only lavished him with praise while telling Hermione, who was doing at least fifty times better than he ever would, that she was unqualified and downright foolish. After Potions would have been Defense Against the Dark Arts, but, now that Lupin was gone, they were given a free period to work on their homework.

Harry decided to try visiting Hagrid again, but, as he was walking down a corridor, an arm reached out and grabbed him. Harry was pulled into an unused classroom, populated by about twenty Slytherins. Standing right before him were Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. Crabbe and Goyle were standing in the background, but Malfoy was not there. Before Harry could fully register what was going, Zabini raised his wand at Harry.

"All right," he said harshly, "who are you and what have done with Harry Potter?"

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked instinctively. "I am Harry Potter. Who else would I be?"

"I don't know," Zabini said, "but if you don't tell us you'll be stunned, stripped naked and thrown into the lake. Unless you're particularly interesting in becoming squid fodder, you'll tell us everything we want to know." Harry tried to think of any easy way to escape, but three burly Slytherin boys had moved in to block the only doorway.

"Well, what if I am Harry Potter?" Harry asked them desperately.

"All right," Zabini said acridly, "if you are Harry Potter, when's Pansy's birthday. What'd Draco give you for your twelfth birthday? What really happened to that pair of knickers you and Draco nicked from Parvati Patil?"

"I -- I don't know," Harry said timidly.

"Ah," Zabini said, insidiously stepping closer to Harry, "well, the real Harry Potter would know all those things. You are not Harry Potter." Harry couldn't think of anything to say. Zabini started circling around him and the rest of Slytherins drew closer in.

"I'll ask you one last time," Zabini said viciously, "where's the real Harry Potter?"

"I don't know," Harry answered honestly.

"And who are you?" Zabini asked him maliciously. Harry didn't know what to say.

"I'm...Luke Skywalker," he quickly invented. It was the first name he could think of that a band of pureblood Slytherins would never recognize. As far as he could tell, they all bought it.

"And where did you come from, Skywalker?" Zabini asked slyly. Harry had to resist grinning at how absurd that question sounded.

"I'm," he begun. "I'm, uh -- well, I don't know exactly."

"You don't know exactly," Zabini repeated angrily. "Do we need to make you remember?" The Slytherins were now much to close to Harry for comfort, but there was no escape. Nothing he could tell them. What could he possibly do?

"No!" Harry said desperately. "I'll -- I'll tell you everything." They all stopped.

"You will?" Zabini asked, sounding delighted. "Are you saying that everything you told us before is a lie?"

"Well...some of it," Harry admitted. Zabini cast his wand at Harry's throat.

"Tell us...everything...now!" he said very slowly so Harry would catch every syllable. Harry took a deep breath.

"All right," he said. "I don't know why, but my memory of my past six years at Hogwarts is different than anyone else's. As I remember it, I was in Gryffindor and my best friends were Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger."

"Granger the Mudblood!" Zabini shouted angrily. "You're a blood traitor!" Everyone in the room shouted approval at this pronouncement.

"No!" a voice said suddenly. Harry turned and saw the pale teenage boy known as Draco Malfoy was standing haughtily in the doorway. Malfoy parted the crowd easily and came up to where Harry, Pansy and Zabini were standing.

"What d'you mean 'no?'" Zabini asked Malfoy incredulously. "Did you hear what he just said?"

"He's not a blood traitor," Malfoy matter-of-factly informed the others. "He can't be because he's half-blood." Air was sucked out of the room.

"I should have known it," Zabini said, turning his wand on Harry. "Your half-blood inferiority is obvious from a mile away! And you thought you could pass for Harry Potter..."

"There's also someone else he says is half-blood," Malfoy told the others proudly.

"Who's that?" Pansy Parkinson asked with interest.

"Voldemort," Harry answered, figuring Malfoy would say it eventually. The whole room began murmuring loudly.

"He slandered the name of the Dark Lord!" a puffy-cheeked girl shouted. "He should die!" As other people shouted in agreement, Harry begun to feel rather scared. He didn't think they would really kill him, but you never knew...

"No, Atgas, let me handle him," Malfoy importantly told the girl. "My father has taught me in the ways of the Dark Arts -- I can do every one of the Unforgivable Curses, having practiced them on house-elves. 'Potter' will not be able to resist my powers." The whole room cheered in agreement, but the girl called Atgas did not look happy.

"He's yours," Zabini said with a nasty smile.

Harry followed Malfoy out of the room and down the adjoining corridor. Neither of them spoke as they headed up higher and higher into the castle. Harry had no idea where they were going and was starting to wonder what might happen if he just made a break for it. Of course, he wouldn't be able to avoid the Slytherins forever...

"Look, I don't know who you are," Malfoy told Harry as they reached the sixth floor, "but I just saved your ass back there -- the least you could do is say 'thank you.'"