Returning to Their Proper Place
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Chapter One: A Different Sorting
"RAVENCLAW!"
When eleven-year-old Hermione Granger heard about the houses of Hogwarts, she immediately knew she'd be a Ravenclaw; the home of the book-smart and studious. Ever since she was a little girl she had been on the hunt for knowledge, to learn about the world around her. When girls talked about her behind her back ("Do you see what Hermione is wearing? And she never stops reading! There's totally something wrong with her…"), she ignored them with a book in her hand. When boys teased her and called her names ("Buck-toothed beaver, buck-toothed beaver! Granger, show us your fangs!"), she looked through them with a blank face and recited the last book she had read in her head. She ignored the loneliness by reading epic fantasy novels, submerging herself in magic and the life of the heroes and their friends and imagining herself in their places.
Friends. As a young girl, Hermione had always wanted friends. Time and time again she would ask to play with other kids, trying to impress them with facts from books she had read. Being turned away over and over again, however, forced her to realise that her only friends were books. In another time, in another world, she'd keep trying and failing but wouldn't give up hope and eventually she'd meet her two best friends in a bathroom with a troll. But not here.
When the hat whispered in her mind that she was a quintessential Ravenclaw, she smiled. When the hat commented that the heart and soul of a Gryffindor were being held captive by her Ravenclaw mind, she frowned.
'You could be great, you know. It's all here in your heart. Gryffindor will give you hope, strength and frie-' Hermione cut it off with quiet, furious whispers.
"Listen, hat. None of that is important. Ravenclaw will help me learn, and I'll be around others like me who prefer books. Send me to Ravenclaw, please," she beseeched.
The hat sighed, quietly.
'If you're sure…' Hermione was silent, certain she was making the right decision.
Then the hat yelled out her house, and she smiled. She got what she wanted. People like her who just wanted to read and get good marks at school. She would finally fit in. Hermione stood and removed the hat from her head, and joined the table of the blue-and-bronze.
"SLYTHERIN!"
Harry Potter was confused. He had been confused since Hagrid had found him in that shack in the middle of the night. No one had much explained anything about what was going on. A month ago, he discovered magic was real, his parents were murdered and he was considered some kind of hero. Since then, only the school books he had picked up in Diagon Alley had been a source of information. And the books sucked. How had magic come about? Was Merlin real? What was possible and impossible? How did they find out what is possible and impossible? What is magic?
He had so many questions that weren't answered. The charms book, which seemed the book most about the use of magic, seemed to just assume the people reading it knew the answers to these questions naturally as if the magic world was the only world and everyone was taught this growing up. What about muggle-borns and muggle-raised? Didn't they matter?
As Harry had read more of his books, the more interested and disgusted he was with the Wizarding World. He was excited to learn magic, to learn how to do the things he had only ever dreamed about. He was nervous, yes ('Will I be any good? What if I can't do it? Will they send me back?'), but it sounded so interesting. However, he was disgusted at how the Wizarding World was so backwards. Even the way they dressed was old. And, possibly even more disturbing, the way they looked down on non-magic people.
Even Hagrid seemed rather condescending, and he was huge, uneducated and wasn't even allowed to do magic. Not that Harry didn't like Hagrid – he was very friendly and helpful, but Harry didn't like the prejudice he showed. When seeing a small boy with a broken leg in a cast, he called it 'barbaric,' and said that muggle medicine was horrible. Harry had just stayed silent, thinking that it was just him, that Hagrid didn't understand. But then he realised that all magic people 'just didn't understand' because they didn't want to. Because they thought they didn't have to.
Harry wanted to change that. He thought that the Wizarding World could learn from their non-magic cousins. For one, technology was severely lacking in the magic world. Hagrid said that it was because the magic meddled with electricity. When Harry asked why they didn't invent something that ran on magic instead, Hagrid said it was impossible.
Which brings him back to a few of his original questions - who decided it was impossible? And how did they work it out? Did one guy try once, fail, and declare it impossible?
Again, Hagrid couldn't answer, muttering something about how 'everyone knows.' Well, he didn't know, and he had an inkling that the other muggle-borns and muggle-raised didn't know. So, either the books are useless and the magic world just didn't care about the lack of 'everyone knows' knowledge, or the magical world doesn't think that muggle technology is worth converting to magic. After all, how could muggles have something that the magic world need - they don't even have magic!
He had thought about all of this while on the long train trip to Hogwarts. No one came into his compartment, though Harry did see faces peek through the glass window a few times. Gawking at the 'Boy-Who-Lived,' no doubt, but no one seemed to want to be the first to talk to him. In another world, a tall red-headed boy would interrupt his thoughts and a smart bushy-haired muggle-born would make him assume that he was the only one who didn't understand, but in this one without the interruptions, plans were starting to build in Harry's head.
When Harry's name got called out by the strict looking witch, he had trudged to the stool and slipped the hat over his eyes.
When the hat sifted through his mind while mumbling to itself, Harry was startled.
'Worry not, my boy. Just having a look to see where to put you…' the hat's croaky voice had whispered. 'Tricky customer, I see. Slytherin will lead you onto greatness, especially with the plans tumbling through your head. However, I hesitate to put you there…'
Harry had frowned softly.
"Why?"
'As a rule, Slytherins aren't particularly fond of the non-magical, you see, and your plans… You would be ostracised, even with your current standing as 'boy-who-lived.' Hated by all sides, as it were.'
"More discrimination? I shouldn't be surprised. Put me wherever you want."
'Just don't lose your heart…'
With that cryptic statement, the hat had called out his new home. Ignoring the now deadly silent hall, Harry sat at the end of the table of the green-and-silver. Harry stared at the stern witch with an amused half-smile until she read out the next name. No applause for Harry. Oh well, he's used to it.
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Ronald Weasley was nervous, and incredibly worried that he wouldn't be good enough. That he would never hear 'well done Ron, your brothers never did this' ever in his life. His brothers overshadowed him almost completely. He didn't hate them for it, of course not - they were his brothers, no matter how annoying they could be. But still, it got tiresome sometimes. Especially when the only thing he was really good at, chess, he learnt from his oldest brother Bill who was even better. Even if he was a pretty good Keeper in quidditch, Charlie was a better Seeker, the twins were better Beaters and even little Ginny was a great Chaser. He couldn't even try to be the smart one – Percy was naturally clever and was even a prefect this year.
While on the train, he had glanced around his compartment. It was full of kids his own age, laughing, story-telling, game-playing kids. There were snacks and chocolate scattered everywhere, and every now and again, a small explosion would take place from Exploding Snap with an eruption of giggles taking place soon after. Ron was sitting separate to all this, unsure of what to do.
"Hey, Ron, was it? Did ya want to play Snap with us?"
Ron had stared at the small blond boy grinning up at him from the floor of the compartment.
Should he?
He had thought back to the last thing his twin brothers had said before they ran off with their friend, the one with the tarantula.
"We'll see you in Gryffindor at the feast! Don't tell Mum we left you on your own! She'd freak," called one with a grin.
"Yeah," agreed the other laughingly, "she wouldn't want her chicken of a son on his ickle lonesome. We have to tell Lee we saw Harry Potter a minute ago. He's in your year, you know. Hey, you two might be friends! You'll be Gryffindor like the rest of us, and the saviour of the Wizarding World couldn't be anything but!"
"Heh. As if Ronnie could be friends with him!"
"True, brother. Too true. Anyway, must be off. So long, Ronnie!"
"So long!"
The two had ran off, leaving Ron standing by himself awkwardly. In another world, the twins had just waved at him with matching grins before pointing him in the direction of an almost empty compartment. He found Harry Potter there and made friends with him. He became a Gryffindor, and made friends with a slightly overbearing muggleborn. But not here.
He had wandered down the long hall, trying to find somewhere to stay. Other than his brothers, he knew nobody.
He had paused at a door near the end and decided to be brave and see if there was room. He peeked through the carriage door window. He had seen a small dark-haired boy staring out the window. The boy had absent-mindedly brushed his hair from his eyes, and Ron was met with the view on a tiny lightning bolt scar. Harry Potter!
But the words of his brothers had echoed through his mind. As if Ronnie could be friends with him! So instead, he had wandered around until he found a small group of first years.
"So? Do you?"
Ron blinked.
"Oh, yeah. Ernie, was it? Sure, that'll be fun."
Later, at the Sorting, he watched the Boy-Who-Lived get sorted into Slytherin. Everyone was shocked. They stared and whispered and talked of nothing else. Finally, his name got called. He walked up to the hat, leaving the last boy standing on his own.
Jamming it on to his head, he waited.
'Another Weasley, huh? Right, that'll be -"
"No, stop!" whispered Ron quickly. "Not Gryffindor, anything but Gryffindor."
'Not Gryffindor? Young Ronald, Weasley's have been nothing but for centuries!' the hat said. 'Oh, I see. It is for this reason you wish not to be a Gryffindor.'
"Yeah, that's right. People noticed when Harry Potter didn't get sorted into Gryffindor, so they'll notice me, too."
'You are a Gryffindor, though. But I suppose since the other two refused, the pattern says you would too. Right then. Fine.'
When the hat called out his house, the Gryffindor table was silent. Hufflepuff, however, clapped happily, welcoming him into the house of the black-and-yellow. Ernie, the boy from the train, waved him over to the spare spot next to him, and Ron sat down happily. He glanced over to the Gryffindor table and sent a shrug and a grin to his three shocked brothers sitting there. Laughing and chatting to his new friends, Ron was on his own for the first time, and he revelled in it.
Albus Dumbledore sucked on a lemon drop thoughtfully. The Sorting hadn't gone as he had expected it to, what with a Potter in Slytherin and a Weasley in Hufflepuff. He glanced at the Sorting Hat over the top of his half moon glasses. The hat had been mumbling angrily to itself since being removed from the Great Hall.
"Something wrong, Hat?" Dumbledore queried gently. The hat shook from brim to tip, positively vibrating with annoyance.
"Kids are too pushy these days!" exploded the hat. "You try and help them, but no! They know what they want, and they'll have it now, thank you very much!"
Dumbledore arched a silvery white eyebrow. Never had he seen the Sorting Hat so angry.
"You are referring to Mr. Potter I assume?"
The hat snorted.
"Not so much. Well, not as much as the other two. He could have thrived in Slytherin easily if not for -" the hat cut itself off. "Oh, very tricky, Albus. You know I can't talk about the specifics. But I must apologise for the size of Gryffindor this year. Only five new first years, that's pretty pathetic. But because of the aforementioned pushy children, there was nothing I could do."
Dumbledore smiled at the hat with a happy twinkle.
"Oh, Hat. You take things so seriously. Things will work out in the end. They always do."
The hat bent at the middle in an estimation of a bow.
"Yes, it will. But not for a handful of years. I caution you to not go through with your original plans until a significant change happens."
Dumbledore closed his eyes and hummed thoughtfully. Opening them with a snap, he nodded in acceptance.
"I bow to your wisdom. So the Stone… I suppose I should put a few extra protections on it, something that will be more punishing for a potential thief."
Dumbledore sighed. His carefully considered plans were falling to pieces…
Shrugging to himself, he unwrapped another lemon drop before popping it into his mouth. Things will work out in the end, after all. They always do.
As the years passed, nothing abnormal happened. Or at least, nothing that the students noticed. If they wondered why the teachers appeared stressed fairly consistently at the end of the year, they assumed that it was because of the examination period. Even if the Defence teachers barely lasted a year. Quirrel, who died from dragon pox. Lockart, who hit his head and forgot who he was. Lupin, who quit once it was discovered that Sirius Black was actually innocent. Moody, who decided to retire earlier than expected. Umbridge (who no one liked anyway), decided she preferred working at the Ministry to working at Hogwarts. And finally Peterson, who got lost in the Forbidden Forest and decided not to return.
Of course, most of this were lies told to the unsuspecting students. Quirrel died from a flesh-eating curse placed on the mirror that was protecting the Philosopher's Stone. Lockart tried to Obliviate Professor Snape when he'd discovered proof of Lockhart's deceit, but Professor Snape cast a reflecting shield charm, which wiped Lockharts memory. Lupin did quit when Sirius was discovered innocent, but mainly to hunt down Wormtail who committed the crime. Moody wasn't actually Moody, but was Barty Crouch Jr. with polyjuice. He'd been trying to get close enough to Harry Potter to kill him, but Dumbledore stopped him and sent him back to Azkaban. Umbridge had left Hogwarts to save her skin. Dumbledore outmanoeuvred her into confessing her hatred of all half-breeds in front of the centaurs. Umbridge decided it was safer to leave. Peterson did get lost into the forest, but was actually torn apart by an angry werewolf. Peterson, who was actually Peter Pettigrew in disguise, was finally hunted down by the team of Lupin and Black and lured out into the forest during a full moon.
And sure, the students heard the rumours of Lord Voldemort's return, but they didn't realise that it happened at Hogwarts on the last day of school in Harry Potter's sixth year. What they thought was a fire-drill was just a way to get the students away. Dumbledore had banished the still weak Dark Lord from the school, and later decided to keep it secret, telling no one but his Order and the trusted higher-ups at the Ministry.
All of this happened under the students' noses. In another world, a team of three Gryffindors would be at the centre of the trouble, but here, where they don't say more that two words to each other in a year, they all manage to keep low profiles.
Hermione Granger, the studious bookworm who keeps to herself.
Ronald Weasley, the cheery leader of Hufflepuff.
Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Slytherin loner, out-cast and rebel.
One day, early in their seventh year, their world will change overnight.