Mature content and themes, and explicit language.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter no matter how much I'd love to.
I switched to third pov in chapter 5 because I was going crazy writing in first pov.
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The Great Hall had never felt more alien to me.
Golden plates and goblets gleamed on the long House tables, their brilliance dimmed by an oppressive silence.
The enchanted ceiling above mirrored the outside world—a stormy, starless night, heavy with clouds.
The Sorting Hat rested on its usual perch, looking as tired and worn as I felt.
Around me, students whispered nervously, their eyes darting toward the staff table, where Snape sat in the Headmaster's chair as though it had always been his.
A sharp contrast to Dumbledore's calm presence, Snape looked like he was daring someone to object.
And needless to say, no one has the fucking balls to say anything.
His dark robes fell in stark, unrelenting folds, and his expression was carved from stone.
Even his usual sneer was absent, replaced by something colder—calculating.
On either side of Snape sat two Death Eaters masquerading as professors: the Carrows…
Sitting at the Gryffindor table felt surreal after everything that had happened over the summer—after losing Dumbledore, after seeing the chaos Voldemort had unleashed on the wizarding world.
Part of me felt like I didn't belong here anymore.
Probably right too.
The mission Dumbledore had given me weighed on my shoulders like an invisible chain, pulling at me with every passing moment.
And yet here I was, back at Hogwarts.
As if I could ever be a normal student again.
Hermione shot me a worried look from across the table, her mouth pressed into a thin line.
Ron, beside her, was trying to focus on the Sorting Ceremony, but I could see his knuckles whitening around the edge of the bench.
Everyone was tense as if waiting for something bad to happen.
Damned Dumbledore, ordering me to come back to Hogwarts even after dying to Snape. How did he even know that was going to happen?
My eyes drifted back to the staff table.
Snape's gaze flicked briefly toward the Gryffindor table, and I stiffened as his dark eyes locked onto mine.
He held my gaze for a moment longer than necessary, and I could almost hear his question in my head: What are you doing here, Potter?
I was currently asking myself that…
Wondering whether I had gone bonkers, like Dumbledore.
Speaking of, Hermione had agreed with the old man's last command, saying that the late headmaster must have known things we weren't aware of and that I'd draw less attention if I was attending school rather than being on the run.
Ron hadn't been thrilled about the plan, but he came along.
We'd spent weeks arguing about it before finally deciding that, for now, it was safer to blend in than to hunt for Horcruxes.
Safer. Right.
As if anyone could be safe near those two, I thought bitterly, my eyes flicking towards the Carrows.
They sat there like vultures, ready to swoop down on any sign of defiance and their presence alone made my skin crawl with disgust.
The Sorting Ceremony dragged on, the Sorting Hat's dull voice ringing in my ears as student after student was called forward.
Even the first-years seemed uneasy, their wide eyes flicking toward Snape and the Carrows.
The usual excitement of the Sorting Feast—the chatter, the cheers—was sadly subdued.
When the last first-year had been sorted, the Hat was whisked away, and Snape rose to address the hall.
His movements were fluid and deliberate, and his black robes billowed slightly as he took his place at Dumbledore's old podium.
"Welcome," he said, his voice slicing through the silence like a blade.
The way he said it made it sound less like a welcome and more like a warning.
"As you may have noticed," he continued, his eyes sweeping the room, "things have changed. Discipline will be… enforced. Misbehaviour will not be tolerated. And those who… resist"—his gaze lingered on me for a fraction of a second—"will face harsh consequences."
A chill ran down my spine.
What was I doing back here?
Damned Dumbledore.
The words were vague, but the meaning was clear.
Anyone who showed signs of resistance would be reprimanded, possibly sacked.
Hogwarts was no longer a sanctuary.
It's a prison…
The feast began, but the food felt tasteless in my mouth.
Around me, Gryffindors picked at their plates, their usual boisterous energy replaced by hushed conversations.
I couldn't help but feel that Snape was watching me even now, his dark presence looming over the hall like a shadow.
This wasn't Hogwarts.
Not the Hogwarts I remembered.
And as I glanced at Ron and Hermione, both of them avoiding my gaze, I realised something else: this wasn't just a school year.
It was a battlefield, and I was on enemy ground.
I just realised this too late…
"Harry Potter," a shrill voice rang out, cutting through the subdued murmur of the Great Hall like a knife.
Every head turned, and I felt a hundred pairs of eyes land on me.
My hand instinctively drifted toward my wand, tucked into my robes, as I turned to face the staff table.
The Carrow woman, Alecto, had risen from her seat beside Snape.
Her squat, toad-like figure seemed to quiver with glee as she glared at me, her thin lips curled into a sneer.
Her brother, Amycus, leaned forward in his chair, his face alight with cruel anticipation.
"Such nerve you've got," she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Sitting here as if you belong. As if you're not a traitor to the Wizarding world. As if the Dark Lord doesn't have plans for you."
My fingers clenched tightly around my wand under the table.
I didn't respond, but the way my jaw tightened must have been enough for her, seeing as her grin widened.
She won't attack me, not in the middle of the Great Hall, will she? I wondered, not for the first time today.
"Oh, yes," she continued, her voice rising as though she wanted everyone to hear. "You think you're untouchable, don't you, boy? But mark my words. I'll hand you over to the Dark Lord myself. You'll kneel before him and beg for your pathetic half-blood life-"
"Enough, Alecto," Snape's voice was quiet but razor-sharp.
He hadn't risen from his seat, but his dark eyes bore into her.
There was an obvious power play happening for everyone to see.
She glanced at Snape, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face.
For a moment, I thought she might actually obey him.
But then her gaze snapped back to me, and whatever restraint Snape had managed to instil in her vanished.
Shit. If her expression is any indicator of—
"You'll learn some respect tonight," she snarled, raising her wand. "You'll learn what happens to filthy blood traitors like—"
Before she could finish, my wand was out.
"Expelliarmus!" I shouted, the spell ripping from the tip of my wand with more force than I'd intended.
The room erupted in gasps as Alecto's wand flew from her grasp and clattered onto the stone floor.
For a moment, there was stunned silence.
Then her face twisted into something almost inhuman, and she lunged for her wand. "You little—"
"Protego!" I cast the shield charm just as she aimed a curse at me.
"Avada Kedavra."
My eyes widened as I dove to the side, the killing curse missing me by inches and blasting a hole in the wall behind me.
Screams broke out among the students, and several scrambled under the table.
Snape rose to his full height and drew his wand but then everything changed.
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Another new fic from me...