Chapter 3: Not According To Plan

                                    

                                          

Trigger Warnings in the author's note at the end
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Well fuck.
The hat was lifted and the lights and crowds flooded his vision again.
The applause was scarce. 
It seemed that Slytherin was not particularly popular during this time either. 
He got up and walked over to the table decked out in green, hoping that his irritation didn't seem to obvious to his new classmates.
He let himself sink down onto the nearest empty seat among students that seemed to be around his own age, but refused to otherwise look across the table.
He wasn't quite ready to see Tom Riddle in person just yet.
He needed a bit to collect himself after that disaster of a sorting.
God fucking dammit.
Harry was supposed to deal with the lot over here while staying safe in the lions den but instead he had just been thrown into a pit of bloodthirsty wildly racist vipers all while carrying his mother's muggle name.
Great.
What could possibly go wrong? 
He looked to the front of the hall to watch the first year's get sorted. 
He didn't feel feel like it but clapped anyways. 
It wasn't fair to let his bad mood out on the nervous kids. 
After Slytherin gained 8 new students besides him, the sorting was finally over and professor Dippet gave his speech. 
It was more tame and also much more boring than any Dumbledore ever held. 
He gave some words of welcome, repeated some important rules and that was about it. 
Harry was truly grateful when Hogwarts' delicious feast covered the table from start to end and he didn't hesitate to grab a healthy serving of roast with gravy and roasted potatoes that were a perfect golden brown shade. 
As an after thought he also added some peas and carrots to the side and then dug in. 
A few of the students around him subtly voiced their disgust or disapproval and he could feel several nasty stares directed his way but he couldn't care less. 
If they had a stick the size of his firebolt up their asses he wasn't going to let it be his problem. 
He ate however he liked. 
"Hungry?", asked a boy sitting across from him. 
Harry almost did a double take when he properly looked at him. 
He was tall, it was noticeable even while sitting and he had sharp aristocratic features. 
But the feature that surprised him so much was the shock of red hair, perfectly glossy in the hall's candlelight. 
And he didn't mean Ron's shade of red either, no, this boy had crimson hair the colour of spilled wine that wouldn't look amiss on Tonk's head.
He noticed Harry looking and smirked. 
"What's it to you", asked Harry gruffly.
The boy leaned forward, resting his chin on his elegant hands. 
Harry noticed that his nails were shiny. 
Did he paint them? 
"Aw defensive are we? I didn't mean any offense promise~"