This was just something I wrote once, awhile ago. I decided to post it because I decided it was actually a bit better than I thought it was when I wrote it.
He should have been in the forest again. He should have been, and that was why, when he found himself sitting on a stool, with the sounds of the Great Hall around him—not the sounds of battle—staring at the inside of a black hat, he was completely confused.
"Harry Potter," the hat said. "My, you are tricky."
"Where am I?" Harry asked.
The Hat paused. "You're at Hogwarts. I am currently trying to Sort you."
"I must be hallucinating. Dumbledore said I could go back—but I don't think he meant back seven years."
"I really have no idea what you are talking about," the Hat said. "As I was saying, you are a very hard one to Sort."
"This really cannot be happening," Harry thought.
"Part of you seems perfect for Gryffindor or Slytherin—and yet part of you seems perfect for Ravenclaw or Slytherin. It's like you have two people in your head."
This must be a dream, Harry decided, because this was not how his first Sorting had gone at all, and there was no way he could have gotten into Ravenclaw.
"I suppose I will have to compromise," the Hat sighed. "I have never had to do such a thing, you know," it told Harry. "But you must be in a House that both of you will fit in. I am sorry, I know you did not want to go into Slytherin, but I can't see any other option."
"What?" Harry thought. "Both of us? I'm not two people."
"Yes you are," the Hat disagreed, and before Harry could protest, called out, "Slytherin!"
Harry took off the Hat. He was standing in the Great Hall, and he saw all the people he would know in the future sitting, completely ignorant of all that would happen. He stared down at the Hat in his hand. He was not seventeen anymore, but eleven.
"This can't be true," he said, "because if it is, then that means…" he couldn't think of what that meant, except that someone Up There must really hate him. Because this was impossible. Not only was Voldemort not dead; but Harry was thrown back in time, told he was two people instead of one, and put into Slytherin. All in the space of five minutes.
Harry looked around. Professor McGonagall took the Hat from him gently and whispered, "Go to your table."
"I don't want to be in Slytherin," Harry said.
Professor McGonagall paused. "I'm sorry," she said. "But I am sure you'll change your mind once you get to know all your housemates."
Harry looked at the Slytherin table. He looked from one, to another, to Malfoy.
Yes, that was likely. Very likely.
Not.
Harry sighed and walked to the table, wondering if things could get any worse.
.
.
.
Unfortunately, I don't think I'll ever write any more of this.
