Harry Potter: Made in Slytherin (Harry Potter as a Slytherin)

Chapter 2:

He blocked a couple of curses mid-air before he began to send his own, sending the dummy into the defensive as it had to step backwards and block at the same time. The last ones were always the hard ones, much to his annoyance.

None of his spells hit, and he was forced to stop his attack to land safely on the ground, and his attacker used it at his chance to press his advantage. Harry was once again forced to dodge and divert the upcoming spells, not having any moment to do anything else. When he finally couldn't take it anymore, he fully dropped his shield and sent out two curses, hitting the other two that the dummy had sent a couple of seconds later, creating a concussive blast which disoriented his opponent temporarily.

Harry took his chance and didn't hesitate as he cast a combination of blasting and expluso curses at the dummy, finally beating it.

"Is that all you got?" Harry yelled, slightly out of breath as he slumped on the ground.

It seemed the room didn't approve of his little display as, suddenly, another five Death Eaters appeared in front of him, ready to attack.

"No! Stop! Stop! Stop! I was just kidding!" Harry shouted, conjuring a white flag out of his wand and waiving it. Thankfully, the room seemed to have taken mercy on him and removed the new dummies, though Harry could feel it laughing at him.

"You know, you can be such an arse sometimes." He felt as the room kept laughing, and Harry grumbled to himself.

Now, some people would call him crazy, and he wouldn't exactly disagree with them - maybe he was crazy. But he'd always felt as if the room had some sort of mind or soul or something, as if it was alive and had a conscience or something. He wouldn't believe it if he hadn't experienced it, but somehow, he didn't doubt it for a second. The room was alive, and a snarky minx too.

"Why don't you make yourself useful and show me the time?"

Silence.

"Fine, be that way! This is why we can't have nice things!"

He cast a quick tempus charm, ignoring whatever the room was trying to convey to him, before he suddenly jumped up.

"Shit!" Harry summoned his bag and books, which were at the other side of the room, as the arena slowly turned back to normal. The books fixed themselves up and tucked themselves inside the bag mid-air, leaving everything perfect for him just when he grabbed it.

"Yes! Yes! I'll come back later!" He shouted as he ran towards the wall besides the door. "But now, I'm going to be late, give me a mirror!"

A large, full-body mirror appeared the second the words left his mouth, and Harry inspected himself on it. His cheeks were flushed, his glasses hanging slightly loose, and his previously well-groomed hair was now its usual mess. He buttoned the two buttons on top before straightening his emerald tie.

"Alright, I'm going to need-" Before he could finish, the mirror shrunk so that it only showed from his chest up and a small lavatory seemingly grew from the wall, a bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion ready for him. "Thanks, I'm also going to need-" A toothbrush, toothpaste and mouthwash appeared. "And-" A deodorant and perfume materialized as well. "Will you marry me?"

Harry spent the next five minutes quickly fixing himself up to look perfect. His hair was slicked back, for now at least, he would run his hand through it every once in a while for the next half hour to give it a more natural look. Teeth washed and his body no longer smelling of sweat and exercise, Harry allowed himself to smile at his appearance.

"How do I look?"

The room's answer came in the form of a large paper bag with two holes cut in it.

"Right," Harry sighed. "Why do I even bother? Just leave me at the closest empty corridor to the Defence classroom, will you?"

Even though he knew the hallway was empty, Harry double-checked before fully stepping out of the room. Turning right, he could see a small group of third-years making their way towards him, all of them muttering about the three same things every student at Hogwarts was talking about nowadays - Umbridge, Neville, and the Ministry.

It was constant, and every time he heard it, Harry wanted to grab his wand and shoot himself with whatever curse would give him the most brain damage. Everyone always yapped about the Great Neville Longbottom, the daring Bow Who Lived, the saviour of the wizarding world - it was sickening. After all, he was nothing more than a mediocre, lazy arse who was only getting through Hogwarts because he'd managed to befriend Hermione Granger and somehow convince her to help him and his best friend, Weasley, to help them out with everything.

Harry had heard the rumours concerning those three, of course, and he'd seen Neville perform in the Triwizard Tournament last year - but all it showed was just how lucky Longbottom was. There was no ounce of skill, cleverness, or cunning to it, it was pure luck and everyone was bending over backwards for him. At least, that was the case before this year.

He would be lying to himself if he didn't enjoy the Wizarding World turning against their hero, though it was for all the wrong reasons, that didn't matter. Seeing Longbottom finally be exempt from all the excuses and favouritism was something he would gladly pay for to be a permanent situation.

That didn't mean that Harry didn't agree with him at this moment, anyone with a brain knew that Voldemort was back, pretty much every Slytherin knew it - though there was an obvious unspoken rule to talk about it or confirm it. Only the mindless followers of the Ministry and Daily Prophet would think Longbottom was lying about that, unfortunately that made up most of the wizarding population in Britain.

Voldemort's return was one of the reasons why he had been training much harder ever since the term began, the world was only hanging by a thread and, unlike Longbottom, he didn't have the same luck or preferential treatment. Everything he was and everything he had was because he had earnt it.

Entering the room, Harry took his usual spot at the back of the class on the Slytherin side. Everyone was already there, Draco was sitting in the middle of his two gorillas with Daphne behind them, accompanied by her two puppies as well. Blaise and Theo were behind them, the two sitting close together as they discussed something in almost inaudible voices. And finally, there was-

"Aren't you bright and early, Potter?"

"Parkinson," He replied coldly as he sat down. "I know you don't have any friends, but that doesn't mean you can sit with me."

She snorted. "Who needs friends?"

"Exactly," Harry replied, a theatrical smile on his face. "Now scram."

"Trust me, Potter, you'd be the last guy in the world I'd want to hang out with. I need a favour."

Harry abruptly stopped from unpacking his bag and looked up. "Those don't come cheap."

"Good thing I'm rich, then."

"What do you want?"

"Umbridge's essays."

"Really?" He scoffed.

"They're easy, I know, but such a bore." She rolled her eyes. "I have better things to do with my time."

"Fifty galleons, each."

"Sure, why don't I give you my family's mansion as well?"

"You're the one who wants this, not me."

"Twenty galleons."

"Forty."

"I could just ask someone else. You're not the only one who sells homeworks for a living."

"No, but I'm the best one." He grinned at her. "Forty-five."

Pansy glared at him, but he could tell she was considering it.

"Thirty-five," she finally said. "Take it, otherwise I'll go to someone else - I don't care how shitty the essay ends up being."