Hey guys, InvertSociety here and welcome to my first ever fanfiction! I know there are a lot of "Harry get's sorted into Slytherin" fanfics out there but I've noticed that none of them have real basis.
My story starts with everything up to the train happening exactly the same as the original. I only make one small change in the original story (see if you can find it J), but that sets off a bit of a snowball effect, leading to Harry being sorted into Slytherin, among other things. This means there will be some excerpts that are similar, or the same, as the original story. This will mostly only be in the first chapter, as that's when things are most similar to the original. I try and stick as close as possible to what I think the characters would've done, so personalities will start off the same, though they may be affected later on by different things.
Anyway- I'm going to stop rambling. I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 1: The Winds of Change
Three boys entered, and Harry recognized the middle one at once: it was the pale boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop. He was looking at Harry with a lot more interest than he'd shown back at Diagon Alley.
"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"
"Yes," said Harry. He was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards.
"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."
Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him.
"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."
He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."
He held out his hand to shake Harry's but Harry didn't take it. He was about to say something, a witty line of being able to tell who the wrong sort were for himself, but before the words had left his mouth a light breeze tickled the back of his neck. Harry shivered, and sniffed the air as an enticing aroma wafted towards him from the uneaten chocolate sitting on the seats. Shaking his head, Harry turned back towards Malfoy and opened his mouth, about to deliver his retort. Before he could do so however, Goyle let out a horrible yell.
Harry whipped around and saw Scabbers the rat hanging from Goyle's finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle's knuckle. Smelling the chocolates, Goyle had reached toward the Chocolate Frogs next to Ron, but was met with an unruly surprise.
Malfoy quickly withdrew his proffered hand, backing away as Goyle swung Scabbers round and round, howling in pain. Only when Scabbers had finally flew off and hit the window did the three leave, Malfoy throwing a spiteful look towards Ron before slamming the compartment door closed.
Ron stooped to pick up Scabbers just as Hermione barged back into the compartment. "What has been going on?" she said, looking around suspiciously. Ron glanced at Harry but said nothing, returning Scabbers to his place amongst the sweets.
"Well?" said Hermione, tapping her foot impatiently on the ground. "You haven't been fighting have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"
"Scabbers has been fighting, not us," Ron said grudgingly, scowling at her.
Hermione glanced at the rat, which had now fallen back asleep. "I see," she said disbelievingly. "Well you'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there." Tossing her hair, she turned and stalked from the compartment, nose in the air.
Ron looked cautiously at Harry before bending over his trunk to retrieve his robes. "So you've met Malfoy before, have you?" he said nonchalantly, still rummaging for his robes.
"Sort of," Harry said, also stooping over his trunk. He glanced curiously at Ron, who was now pulling on his robes. Why was he acting so weirdly? "Look, Ron, if I said something or-" Harry began, but was quickly cut off.
"No it's fine," said Ron in an overly cheery voice. "I understand. Famous Harry Potter wouldn't want to go making friends with the wrong sort," his voice caught in his throat. "After all, who would want to be associated with riff raff like the Weasleys?" He slammed his trunk closed, and started pulling it towards the door.
Harry stood, dumbfounded, as the only friend in the world he had ever known, even for less than a day, stalked away from him. "Wait! Ron! I didn't-" he started, not sure as to what to say, but Ron had gone, heaving his trunk through the cramped doorway and out into the corridor.
Harry stared silently at the open door. He finally moved, mechanically putting on his robes, his mind whirling. Was his life as a wizard going to parallel that of his grueling days as a muggle? He had hoped for a fresh start, but it seemed as if he was again to be the outcast, unwanted and friendless. Harry sighed, sitting back down with his head in his hands.
At least Malfoy wanted to be friends with him, though Harry predicted that this was due more to his fame than anything. Despair was suddenly replaced by anger. He hadn't even done anything! It was Malfoy that had insulted Ron's family; there was no need to take it out on him. Harry had even been about to defend Ron before that git Goyle had gotten bitten by Scabbers.
Harry closed his eyes, Malfoy's pale face and outstretched hand swimming across his eyelids. He would've have said it, wouldn't he? Harry couldn't imagine himself taking Malfoy' hand, but he wasn't sure if he would have rejected it either. It didn't matter now, anyway. Ron had turned on him before Harry even had a chance to explain himself.
A voice echoed through the train: "We'll be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."
Harry' stomach lurched with nerves but he smirked slightly. It gave him vindictive pleasure to know that Ron, who had already taken his trunk from the compartment, must be feeling quite foolish now. A second later a sick and guilty feeling crept over him, what was wrong with him? He glanced at the remaining sweets, but decided against bringing them, he no longer felt very hungry.
The train slowed, stopping at a tiny, dark platform. Harry joined the throng of students in the corridor, allowing himself to be swept along by the crowd. People pushed their way toward the door and out into the cold night air. Harry shivered slightly and clutched his robes more tightly around him. A lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harry heard a familiar voice: Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?"
Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.
"C'mon, follow me! Any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"
Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was dark on either side of them that Harry thought there must be thick trees there. He could see Ron a few paces ahead, walking next to a tall black boy with closely cropped hair. Nobody spoke much. Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.
"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."
There was a loud "Oooooh!"
The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry glanced at Ron, but Ron was pointedly ignoring his gaze. Harry took a deep breath, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. After a moment's hesitation, he turned and instead followed Draco Malfoy and his friends into a boat. Draco looked at him, his grey eyes almost calculating, before shrugging and seating himself opposite Harry.
"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then. FORWARD!"
And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.
"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.
"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.
"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. They clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.
They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.
"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"
Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.
The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this was not someone to cross.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."
She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys' house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.
They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right -the rest of the school must already be here - but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.
"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."
Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Harry smirked slightly as Ron ducked his head, but his grin was quickly replaced with a scowl after catching sight of his own reflection in the polished bronze chestplate of a suit of armor. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair.
"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."
She left the chamber. Harry swallowed.
"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" he asked a sandy haired boy standing next to him.
"Not sure," said the boy. "Me dad said some sort of test but he wasn't real specific. Didn't want the ruin the surprise." The boy rolled his eyes exasperatedly.
Harry's heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school? But he didn't know any magic yet - what on earth would he have to do? He hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrived. He looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need. Harry tried hard not to listen to her. He'd never been more nervous, never, not even when he'd had to take a school report home to the Dursleys saying that he'd somehow turned his teacher's wig blue. He kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him to his doom.
Then something happened that made him jump about a foot in the air -several people behind him screamed.
"What the -?"
He gasped. So did the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance -"
"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?"
A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.
Nobody answered.
"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"
A few people nodded mutely.
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."
"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."
Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.
"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."
Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line behind the boy with sandy hair, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.
Harry had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard
Hermione whisper, "Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."
It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.
Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn't have let it in the house.
Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, Harry thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing - noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, he stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:
Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffis are true And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
if you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"
The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. So they just had to try on the hat, though he did wish they could have done it without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking rather a lot; Harry didn't fell brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for him.
Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"
A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moments pause -
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.
"Bones, Susan!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.
"Boot, Terry!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.
" Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling.
"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. He was starting to feel definitely sick now. He remembered being picked for teams during gym at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him.
"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.
"Granger, Hermione!"
Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.
"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. A groan came from the front of the line and Harry peered forward to see Ron shaking his head in disappointment. Harry scowled. It wasn't as if that Granger girl had done anything to him.
A horrible thought struck Harry, quickly making him forget all about Ron. What if he wasn't chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he'd better get back on the train?
When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."
Draco Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"
Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.
There weren't many people left now. "Moon" "Nott" "Parkinson" then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil" then "Perks, Sally-Anne" and then, at last - "Potter, Harry!"
As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.
"Potter, did she say?"
The Harry Potter?"
The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.
"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, A my goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting... So where shall I put you?"
Harry gripped the edges of the stool nervously. He didn't know where he wanted to go. He thought about what Hagrid had said back in Diagon Alley, "there's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin." Was that true?
"No." said the small voice quietly. "A Gryffindor went bad once, you know. Turned on his—" The hat grew silent. "Interesting, very interesting."
Harry gulped. His hands were beginning to sweat. He wished the hat could just get it over with; he didn't think he good bear any more suspense. After a moments pause, the hat spoke again.
"You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, but it wouldn't be easy – no no, not easy at all." Harry was frustrated. He didn't know what the hat wanted from him. He opened his mouth, about to speak, but the small voice sighed resignedly.
"Alright Mr. Potter, I've made my decision. I hope you're ready." Harry didn't feel ready, not it the slightest. He bit his tongue and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, waiting for the hat's verdict.
"Better be…SLYTHERIN!"
Alrighty then! End Chapter 1 :)
I hope you guys enjoyed! It's really appreciated if you leave a review and let me know what you liked, or what I can do to improve. I'm going to be completely honest with you, it's 4am as I am posting this so there may have been a few errors, particularly later in the chapter, so just let me know if you saw any and I'll go through and change them. Thanks again for reading!