Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Summary: Harry Potter is related to a founder. But which one? AU One-shot

Wolfe: -grins- a one-shot that occurred to me at three in the morning. I figured- hey, what the hell?- worded for stupidity, and…things I forgot…crap.

-blinks- Come Again?

A Founder's Descendant

Harry Potter glanced across the Great Hall. It was the middle of dinner, the Leaving Feast of Harry's seventh year, in fact. Naturally, the Hall was packed. Albus Dumbledore caught his eye and grinned like a loon. Crazy bastard would think it's bloody hilarious.

Hermoine Granger asked Harry in a whisper, "Are you alright, you seem distracted."

Dumbledore rose and called "I would like to make an announcement. If Mr. Potter would please come here?" Hermoine and Ron Weasley, Harry's other best friend, shot him incredulous looks.

"This is what was bothering me." They shared knowing looks as Harry walked to the front of the room, ignoring the chattering students and gossiping adults.

"I have been doing extensive research on the Founders' Descendants, and the Potter line has persisted for many generations in one particular Founder's line…" Dumbledore trailed off as people began guessing which Founder Dumbledore was talking about.

"Salazar Slytherin!" shouted one guardian near the back of the Hall, just as a Gryffindor third-year yelled "Godric Gryffindor!"

Harry turned redder than his Quidditch robes, and buried his head in his hands. Dumbledore kindly patted him on the back, eliciting a mumbled -but still well-heard- "Why me?"

Everyone else was now confused, then Cho Chang asked "Rowena Ravenclaw?"

Looking ready to cry, Harry shook his head. Unintelligibly mumbled words floated across the Great Hall, and Severus Snape, who understood what the Boy-Who-Lived had said, promptly fainted from shock. But not before letting out a rather shrill squeak.

"What was that mate?" Ron said.

Harry sighed. "I said….It was Helga Hufflepuff."

"Oh. Okay. What's the joke?"

"…"

"Harry?" Ron sounded disbelieving.

"Harry, you can answer us- is it true?" Hermoine gently nagged.

He nodded.

Ron did a very accurate impression of Snape a minute ago.

Hermoine said "alright" and went back to her food.

The Slytherins- except Malfoy, who shouted "I KNEW it!"- went into various states of shock.

Minerva McGonagall turned into a cat, curled up, and went to sleep.

Hagrid grinned.

The Hufflepuffs smirked at everyone.

Cedric Diggory's ghost stuck his head up through the Hufflepuff table and said, "It's about time you bloody people actually notice a Hufflepuff, even if it's just by blood!" and walked away humming about mutant badgers that looked like Mrs. Norris. Nobody saw him.

In the Daily Prophet building, Rita Skeeter died of a stroke.

In the United States, nobody gave a rat's ass.

Noticing this, Dumbledore clapped his hands and cried "SOCKS FOR ALL!" And socks began to rain down from the Great Hall's enchanted ceiling, covering everyone quickly.

The next day, the whole of Wizarding Britain knew, reacted in various obnoxious and defiant of the laws of physics ways, and never mentioned the Boy-Who-Lived again. Except, of course, when he shot Lord Voldemort with an antique Muggle revolver.

After all, who cared about a(n Honorary) Hufflepuff?

A/N: -blinks- o…k…. If anyone asks, I found a very large container of sugar right before I wrote this, ok? –nods- I was actually thinking about how Hufflepuffs are always in the background of most fanfics, and it seemed weird. So, I thought I'd post this evidence of my insani- I mean, bit of randomness, and see what happened. No flames please. I already know it's…strange and weird.