A/N: I know the first upload if this failed miserably I'm so sorry! But this is hopefully the fixed version! Please forgive! I hope you like this!


Chapter Text

Harry's eyes darted around him as his chest clenched with fear. There were too many people and all of them were staring at him. He could feel their eyes like so many prodding fingers pushing and pressing into his skin. He felt a cold sweat break out all over him and his stomach rolled unpleasantly as he nervously stepped up to the stool at the front of the Great Hall.
Why was everyone staring at him? Was it really such a cool thing to be known for your parents murders?

He wanted to break down into wracking sobs. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to be back in his cupboard with his blankie and his teddy bear with the missing eye button. Yes, his Aunt and Uncle were ruthlessly unloving; they at least pretended he didn't exist. He didn't know if he could do this.
A dizzy spell his him as he stumbled around and sat with a 'whoosh' of panicked air on the stool. McGonagall spared him a confused and rather concerned glance before setting the Sorting Hat upon the child's head. A darkness swept across his vision and his breathing became difficult. He didn't like the dark. He was terrified of it really. It was why his little light under the stairs was always on.

'Calm down young Mr. Potter. I will not harm you.' came a soft baritone voice in his ears.

With a sense of calm that had Harry relaxing enough where he no longer felt nervous.

'There we go. My aren't you jittery. You most definitely won't make it in Gryffindor like the old man wants you to be placed.'

Harry shrunk in on himself. Even here he wasn't worthy of something? It wasn't his fault that he was so scared of everything.

'Enough of that, child. You have nothing to worry about. I need to warn you before you are sent to your true house. Slytherin isn't bad. You might find your true friends there, so don't lose faith, ok?'

Harry nodded, skeptical about a talking hat's opinion on where he would find people that wouldn't treat him like a disease.

'Good boy. You're very loyal to those you hold dear. That means you are only suited for one house. Better be HUFFLEPUFF!'

The hat was removed from his head and he gulped, his throat clicking as his fear returned. Oh man, everyone's eyes were trained on him. Most with looks of incredulous disgust, while others, like the Hufflepuffs and even a few of the Slytherins, gave him gazes full of intrigue or pity.
Swiftly he scrabbled to his house's table, his knees aching as he moved. He was so petrified he kept his head bowed and his eyes focused on his plate, which he hesitantly filled with cakes and so missed the dark eyes of an older Slytherin who watched him possessively. Instead he nibbled on his food and shied away from any questions or conversations sent his way. He was dreading his futile attempts at sleep he knew he would deal with tonight.

Just how was he going to survive this?