Blood Ties.

Harry sat at his usual spot at the Gryffindor table and waited impatiently for the Sorting to be over, ignoring the curious glances thrown his way by Hermione, and the nudges from Ron's elbow in his ribs. He knew they were both wondering over his silence, but they'd find out soon enough, so he didn't bother illuminating them ahead of schedule.

"Youngblood, Madrigal!"

McGonagall's voice rang out sharply and the final first year crept forward and perched atop the stool, trembling and looking terrified. Harry felt himself tense up when the girl was sifted into Ravenclaw, and McGonagall called an end to the Sorting.

He could feel everyone's eyes turning on him as he rose and stiffened his shoulders, holding himself firmly erect as he walked slowly up toward the dais.

"Mr. Potter?"

McGonagall's steady gaze threatened his resolve but he fortified himself and managed to make his voice come out clear and strong.

"Headmistress, I request a transfer of house. I renounce the house of Gryffindor and stake my allegience with that of my ancestor, Salazaar Slytherin."

He distinctly heard a shocked gasp and a curse behind him, recognizing the reactions of his friends, but kept his gaze firmly upon the teachers and McGonagall. The silence in the hall was deafening and he wondered how long it would last.

Hagrid broke it with a roar of indignation and then everyone was shouting and whispering, but Harry did not so much as flinch, studying the surprise on the headmistress' face.

"Are you quite sure you wish to do this, Harry? It's not unheard of, but it is rare that a student switches houses, and certainly I've never heard of one making so drastic a change."

The gentleness in McGonagall's voice almost undid him, but he forced himself to nod firmly, pressing his lips into a hard line as his gaze shifted to the smirking hat still cocked jauntily on the stool beside her.

"The Sorting Hat originally planned to place me in Slytherin and I have come to realize that my request to be placed in Gryffindor was a mistake. I belong in the house of my ancestor."

McGonagall waved a hand and the cacophony fell to silence once more, then she motioned to the stool.

"If that is indeed true, Mr. Potter, then the Sorting Hat will place you there."

Harry nodded and didn't hesitate as he walked directly to the stool and lifted the wrinkled old hat up to rest upon his head. He heard it chuckle dryly and grimaced at the sensation of being known.

"The boy speaks true. Slytherin!"

The cry from the hat sent another ripple through the hall and he heard Ron curse again loudly, reaching up and yanking the hat off to drop it back on the stool.

"Very well, Mr. Potter. You are now a member of house Slytherin."

He nodded sharply and swiveled on his heel, striding over toward the table where so many of his enemies, and the children of his enemies, sat staring at him in silence. He worried for a moment that he would be forced to stand for the duration of the feast, then suddenly a gap opened up and he sat, still not looking at anyone around him.

"Welcome to Slytherin, Potter."

His eyes lifted finally at the cool voice and he stared directly into the amused, silver gaze of none other than Draco Malfoy.

~~:~~

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you, Harry? Have you gone mental?"

The angry shouting of the red-headed boy was beginning to grate on Harry's last nerve and he scowled, folding his arms across his chest as he glared at his best mate. Well, former best mate, it now seemed.

"Ron, I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions, it doesn't mean I'm mental. I don't need you acting like my bloody father."

Ron's face went even redder, if that was possible, and he clenched his fists, peering angrily at Harry as if he'd grown a second head.

"You just asked to be put into Slytherin, bloody well renounced Gryffindor and you wonder why I think you've lost your bloody mind!?"

Harry sighed in exasperation and ran a hand back through the unruly riot of dark hair atop his head.

"Listen, Ron. None of this is any of your bloody business and frankly, I am tired of you tagging after me like some sort of lost puppy. I'm sick of having to pull your arse out of the fire, and even more sick of dealing with your stupid jealousy. I've put up with you and Hermione long enough and I just can't deal with you guys on top of trying to save the whole bloody world, as well."

Ron's face drained of color and he stared at Harry, struck hard by the calmly spoken words that sounded so utterly unlike the Harry Potter he'd known for the past 6 years.

"What?"

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes, shaking his head before turning to stride away from the other boy, knowing any further argument would be a rehash of what had gone before. At least his words had stunned Ron enough that he didn't try to follow, Harry wasn't sure he could deal with anything else at the moment.

He made his way through the school, having to stop at the bottom of the stairs and remind himself that he no longer slept in the Gryffindor dorms. He spied a flash of green robes in his peripheral vision and turned to see Draco Malfoy smirking at him.

"Saw that amusing little drama with the Weasel. I thought the poor, little baby was going to break down in tears."

Harry felt a smirk curling his own lips, though it had hurt to say those things to Ron he had looked as if he might start crying at the end there.

"Yeah, well...I'm just tired of playing the rescuer to a couple of immature brats who think that I should help them any time their incompetence gets them into one bloody mess or another. As if I haven't got enough on my shoulders."

Malfoy's smirk grew and he jerked his head, silver eyes shining as he turned to head deeper into the school and toward the Slytherin rooms in the dungeon. Harry hurried to follow, falling into step beside him.

"I wondered how long it would be before you realized how useless they were. Though, I should warn you, it's not going to be easy making mates in Slytherin, what with you being only half-blood and whatnot."

Harry shrugged and licked his lips, knowing anything else he said would be all over the school before breakfast the next day.

"I'm not half-blood. My mother was adopted by the Muggles who raised her, but she was from a pureblood family. I'm a pureblood wizard. As for the other stuff, well, they'll just have to fucking deal with it, won't they?"

He sensed Malfoy stiffening beside him, then felt his gaze, chancing a casual glance over with a smirk.

"This changes everything, I hope you realize?"

The softly spoken words sent a strange shiver up Harry's spine and he ignored it, stopping with Malfoy beside the blank wall that hid the entrance to the Slytherin common room.

"Why do you think I just did what I did, Malfoy? Listen, can you keep a secret?"

Draco stared at him as if he had never seen him before, then nodded slowly, arching one platinum brow.

"Despite what people might believe, Marvolo's daughter Merope didn't die after giving birth to Tom Riddle. She fled from the orphanage and eventually married an older wizard who basically wanted her for her ability to cook and clean, but...I guess the guy had a few soldiers that were still marching, because she ended up giving birth to a daughter."

He paused and cocked a dark brow, watching Draco fit the pieces together in his mind, then continued.

"She named her daughter Lily, but when she and her husband both grew ill with some strange disease, she sent the baby away to a Muggle couple living in the village nearby. The couple kept her first name but adopted her and gave her their last name. Evans."

He watched Draco's eyes widen and his mouth drop open in shock, and almost chuckled.

"S-So...you...you're...?"

It was almost worth the situation to see Draco speechless and stuttering, looking even paler than usual.

"Yes, Malfoy. Voldemort was my mother's half-brother and thus...The Dark Lord is my uncle."