I am not your son, you are not my father

Chapter 11

Harry only now noticed the buzzing that was going on in the Great Hall. He'd been so concerned about the sorting that he hadn't noticed. Everyone was talking about two things, and they were both about him. One - the disappearance of Harry Potter. Those who believed the Daily Prophet thought he was hiding because he was scared. Those who didn't, and believed Dumbledore, thought it was training. Others didn't know what to think. The Slytherins thought they had this year already conquered when it came to Quidditch. After all, without Potter... Two - the fact that Professor Snape had a son. He couldn't hear what was being said by the other houses, but he could only imagine the shock going through the Gryffindor table.

Harry got a good look at the staff table this time. He had been more concerned about getting sorted before. His eyes fell on the new face to the table - the new Defense teacher, Umbridge. She was dressed in pink from head to toe, and honestly, just looking at her made him a bit sick. He remembered what Severus had said, though - not to do anything to draw attention to himself. He had no idea when his first Defense class would be. Typically his favorite, he wasn't looking forward to it this time. He tore his eyes away from the pink mess as the hat began to sing.

This year, the hat's song started off by saying how great things had been when Hogwarts had first opened, and it mentioned great friendships - specifically Slytherin and Gryffindor and Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Then, it started to get into the problems that arose in the school due to Slytherin's beliefs. The hat went on to sing that the houses solved the problem, but of course, Slytherin left the school and left the houses divided, "never once united as they were meant to be," the hat sang. It then flat out warned that sorting may be wrong, that external foes threatened the school, and that "we must unite inside her or we'll crumble from within."

Harry clapped along with everyone else and saw the song clearly for what it was - a warning. "Does it do that every year?" he asked, trying to keep up appearances as the 'new kid.' He wasn't sure how he felt about the concept of house unity at the moment. Before, he would never have associated with Draco. Now, the blond was his only friend in Slytherin house - and yes, he did use the term 'friend' when referring to Draco.

Draco nodded from beside him. "Yes, every year it does a song before it starts sorting the first years," he explained, "but it's usually not in the form of a warning for house unity." He scoffed, and it was clear what the blond thought about that.

Harry looked around and saw nods coming from the others around them. It wasn't a popular opinion, it would seem. He wasn't surprised, really, and knew the idea of uniting all four houses wouldn't work. After all, Gryffindor and Slytherin hated each other. Yet, here he was - a little of both. He glanced over at Hermione, who was talking with Ginny. She caught his eye and gave him a quick wave before returning to her conversation. Harry didn't plan on not being friends with her - or the twins, for that matter. He didn't want to not be friends with Ron, either, but he wasn't sure where he stood with the redhead at the moment.

Ron had been wrong, and Harry wasn't going to go crawling back to him when he couldn't accept how things were now. Severus was his father, and that made him a Snape. Now, he was in Slytherin. Ron had to accept that and get over whatever it was that was bothering him. If he didn't... well, Harry supposed he had other friends.

Harry looked back at Draco for a moment before glancing at the staff table as Professor McGonagall, standing in front, started calling out students' names. The long line of first years dwindled one by one, from Evan Abercrombie into Gryffindor all the way down to Rose Zeller into Hufflepuff. Then, Dumbledore stood and announced the feast had begun. Food plates and goblets filled, and Harry's stomach started to rumble. He hadn't realized how hungry he was, so consumed he had been about his sorting.