Disclaimer: I don't own the dystopic world of Harry Potter where people with reality warping powers still mostly act like mindless sheep. The reason why this chapter has been so long in coming is partly because my flash drive unexpectedly stopped working, leading to my losing all my files, and partly because my classes overtook me. My efforts to reconstruct my files in my copious spare time, combined with some more critical reviews by Rhaegar I and Look More Closely Later on alternate history dot com has made me realize that Moody and Dumbledore were both a bit OOC in the previous chapter, also JKR's new info about the Potter family required me to adjust Dumbledore's reasons for being suspicious of Sirius' loyalties. The final scene of Chapter 1 is slightly different and there are two lines in this chapter that were written specifically to take advantage of the new Potter history. I don't get why JKR felt it was necessary to create two entirely new characters to be Harry's grandparents instead of using the two already available; it just creates one more loose end to fix up. Another reason for the delay is that a completely unrelated technological hiccup forced to rewrite this chapter yet again.

Chapter 2: The Very Definitely Complete Sorting

Nearly ten years had passed since Harry Potter had been rescued from the Dursley's front step, and Harry's life had taken a very different turn than it would have if he'd been left there. Instead of being neglected and forced to live in a cupboard under the stairs, Harry grew up loved with his godmother and godsister, knowing about magic and having his abilities encouraged. But life was still far from perfect as Sirius Black unjustly imprisoned despite numerous challenges and appeals by Karen's barrister.

Outwardly their house appeared to be a perfectly ordinary house in a perfectly ordinary muggle suburban neighborhood in South East England, with neighbors who were all perfectly ordinary people with no idea that the three of them had magical powers. Which is not to say that they weren't considered just a bit odd by those neighbors, as Karen never seemed at a loss for money despite being—for almost all intents and purposes—a full-time single mother, never asked for help babysitting, rarely socialized and almost never had company. But the reason for the latter two was blatantly obvious once you went inside as all the pictures on the walls were not muggle stills, but animated with magic. Some of those pictures showed a wiry raven-haired boy with green eyes, and a slender dark-haired girl with sea-blue eyes—showed them riding bikes, playing at the fair, and being hugged and kissed by Karen; others showed Sirius Black and Harry's dead parents—at their weddings and with their newborns.

Today it was festooned with banners and balloons as it was a special occasion. Karen, Elizabeth, and the Tonks stood around Harry singing an age-old song:

"Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday Dear Harry! Happy Birthday to you!" Harry grinned and turned his attention to the cake in front of him with eleven candles.

"Go on," Nymphadora said, "Make a wish and blow it out." Harry hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath and blew out the candles to a chorus of applause. Karen removed the candles and set to cutting and serving the cake.

While they were eating Elizabeth started setting presents in front of Harry. His present from his godmother was a two-way mirror so they could stay in contact when he and Lizzie went off to Hogwarts in another month. From Lizzie he received a dragonhide wand holster and belt. Andromeda gave him a book titled 'Curses and Countercurses by Professor Vindictus Viridian' and Ted gave him a Mokeskin Pouch with a belt attachment. Nymphadora, who had just graduated from Hogwarts and was about to start her Auror training, gave him a book whose title he read aloud, "Book of Potions by Zygmunt Budge?" Harry was familiar with the name for he was listed on a Chocolate Frog Card as a famous and notorious Potioneer and Alchemist who had invented, among other things, Felix Felicas.

"I just spent seven years taking Potions from Snape," Nymphadora explained, "although it's not on the book list, there's no way I would have even gotten into Snape's N.E.W.T level course—let alone actually passed—without that book and from what I hear every Slytherin student owl-orders a copy the day after their Sorting."

"It used to be on the book list," Andromeda added, "when old Slughorn was the Potions Master, because half of it is about brewing and safety procedures—information that the Jigger book mostly omits because its assumes that the reader already knows all that."

"I see," Harry said though he did not understand why Snape would drop the book if it was that important, especially if he was apparently still expecting his students to know it's information.

(*)

Diagon Alley was, Harry decided, a very odd looking place as many buildings had bizarre architecture that only stood because of magic. Their first stop was Madam Malkins and in the back also being fitted was a boy with a pale, pointed face.

"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," Harry and Elizabeth said.

"My father's next door buying books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy in a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow. Have you got your own brooms?"

"No," said Harry. They lived in a muggle neighborhood and so that wasn't advisable.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," Harry repeated.

"I do," the boy claimed, "Father says it'll be a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"I'm hoping for Gryffindor," Harry said.

The boy's eyed widened slightly and turned slightly towards Elizabeth, who said, "Also Gryffindor."

"I'll be in Slytherin," the boy said, "all my family has been. Can't imagine being in Hufflepuff, I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"My mum was a Hufflepuff," Elizabeth snapped "And I hope that you do leave just so that we don't have to deal with a spoiled brat like you."

The boy sneered. "Who are to dare speak to me like that? What's your surnames?"

Thankfully they were saved from answering when Madam Malkin said. "That's you done, my dears," and they hopped down from the footstools and left with their clothes.

At another clothing shop they bought dragonhide gloves, parchment from still another shop but not quills or ink.

"It's not on the list," said Karen, "I certainly don't expect you to learn calligraphy and I'll make sure you have lots of pens."

They each got a "Pewter cauldron, size 2" from the cauldron shop, trunks from the trunk shop, collapsible telescopes, scales and crystal phials from the generic equipment shop, a basic selection of potion ingredients from the Apothecary, and their books at Flourish and Botts.

Finally they arrived at Ollivander's wandshop.

As they stepped inside a tinkling bell rang from somewhere deeper inside the shop. It was very small place, with only a single spindly chair; Harry had the strange sensation of having entered a very strict library. Thousands of narrow boxes were piled behind the counter, neatly right up to the ceiling.

An old man stepped out from behind the stacks of boxes and walked over.

"Karen Hayes Black; I remember you. Rowan and Unicorn hair, 11 and ½ inches, pliant. And…ahh yes, I thought I'd be seeing you soon, Harry Potter. You have your mother's eyes; it seems only yesterday she was in here herself buying her wand. Willow and unicorn hair, ten and a quarter inches, swishy; good for charm work." Ollivander moved closer to Harry, who felt a but unnerved by his silver eyes. "Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand, dragon heartstring core, eleven inches, pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it—it's really the wand that chooses the wizard of course." They were almost nose to nose now. "And that's where…" Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger and Harry drew back several steps.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a half inches, Yew and phoenix feather; a powerful wand, very powerful, and one that did so many terrible things." Ollivander shook his head, straightened up and moved on, "And you must be Mrs. Blacks' daughter…Elizabeth, that's the name isn't it?"

"Yes," Elizabeth said quietly, unusually subdued, "How did you know my name?"

"Everyone in Diagon Alley heard the news of your birth," Ollivander replied, "Your father was quite ecstatic. Dogwood and Unicorn hair, thirteen and a quarter inches; a very playful wand. I never would have expected him to do what he did."

"He didn't!" Karen hissed. Mr. Ollivander merely shrugged and pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket.

"What are your wand arms?"

"I'm right-handed," Harry said.

"As am I," said Elizabeth.

"Hold out your arms please." They did so and Ollivander set the tape measure to measure beach of them in turn, from shoulder to finger, wrist to elbow, shoulder to knee, knee to armpit and then around their heads. As it did so, Ollivander started flitting around the shelves taking down boxes, saying: "Every Ollivander wand uses one of three cores: unicorn hairs, phoenix feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are the same; and, of course, you will never get as good results from another wizard's wand. That will do." The tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor and Ollivander set some boxes on the counter. "Right then, Ms. Black, try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring, nine inches, nice and flexible."

Elizabeth took the wand and waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of her hand almost at once. "Maple and Phoenix feather, seven inches, quite whippy, try—," Elizabeth tried and had hardly raised it when it too was snatched back. "no, no, here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and half inches, springy." She tried, and tried and tried; the pile of rejected wands mounted higher and higher, but the more Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become. "A tricky customer, eh? Well, hmm…here we go, Cedar and Unicorn hair, unbending, 11 inches, give it a try.

Elizabeth took and this time there was a response; the wand shot off red sparks and Ollivander clapped. "Excellent, excellent. Now, your turn Mr. Potter. Go ahead, grab one from the pile, might as well start there." Harry grabbed one at random and waved it around; when nothing happened, he set it down again and tried another. And another. And another. Mr. Olliander started getting excited all over again.

Ollivander thrust another at him, "here try this, unusual combination—Holly and Phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple." Harry took the wand and again nothing happened. Ollivander got down two more boxes and set them on the counter "Yew and Phoenix feather, 11 inches, unbending." Harry tried it and again got response at all; Ollivander snatched it back and handed over another wand, this one the color of ivory: "Aspen and Phoenix Feather, Reasonably Supple, 10 inches.

Harry took this wand and immediately felt a sudden warmth in his fingers; he raised the wand above his head and sent forth a stream of red and gold sparks.

"Oh bravo," Ollivander cried, "Very good and also…very curious."

"What's curious?" Harry asked. Ollivander held up the holly wand and said, "The phoenix whose feather is in this wand only gave one other feather, and that feather was in the wand which gave you that scar. While this wand," Ollivander held up the Yew wand, "is made from wood of the same tree; yet both rejected you. And that it is an aspen wand instead that chose you is most interesting, for they are quite well suited to martial magic. In fact, your Grandfather Fleamont also used an Aspen wand and with it became one of the best duelists of his day."

"I'm not surprised," Harry replied, "With a name like that almost everyone he met would have made fun of him."

"Unfortunately yes," said Ollivander.

They each paid seven galleons for their wands, then slipped them into their wand holsters.

"But we haven't been to the pet store," Elizabeth protested when her mother started leading them back to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Pets are not required," Karen replied firmly.

"Not even owls?" Harry asked.

"Hogwarts has an entire parliament of owls," said Karen, "And you have your two-way mirrors. How much mail do you really expect to receive? Or do you have penpals I don't know about?"

"What about if we make friends and want to keep in touch next summer?" Elizabeth persisted.

"If and when that happens," Karen said, "then I may get you your own owls. Right now, however, you don't need them and pets are a major responsibility."

Her tone made it amply clear that the discussion was over; both Harry and Elizabeth sighed but accepted her decision.

(*)

August flew by surprisingly fast. Harry spent much of it reading and rereading his books, especially Budge's book but also his parent's copies of their textbooks—comparing the differences between editions. Some of the time there was more information in his versions, those times when there was less Harry copied the missing information down on a piece of parchment and stuck it into the book at the relevant page. Harry also noticed and copied annotations and edits that his parents had made to their own books, none of which was in the later edition; his mother's potion books were particularly marked up and also included several spells that Harry copied down separately.

Finally September 1st came and they Flooed to Platform 9 ¾. Pushing their way through the chattering crowd toward the scarlet train, they finally paused at the edge of the platform. "Well, this is it," Karen said. She gave Harry and Elizabeth each a hug and a kiss on the cheek, "Good luck, study hard, and stay safe. I love you both.

"Love you too, mum," Harry and Elizabeth replied. With their trunks having been already shrunken by her and placed in their pockets, they climbed aboard the train, found an empty compartment and sat down.

The compartment door soon opened, a red-haired boy stood just outside.

"Can I sit here?" he asked, "Everywhere else is full."

"Sure," Harry replied and the boy came inside and sat down opposite of Harry and Elizabeth.

"I'm Harry, this is Elizabeth," Harry introduced and Ron nodded.

"Nice to meet you," he said, "First time at Hogwarts?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Yeah, you?"

"Yeah, but I've got three older brothers at Hogwarts—Percy who's a prefect and the twins Fred and George, plus two brothers who have already left—Bill's graduated and Charlie is finishing his studies abroad—and a younger sister, Ginny, who will be starting next year."

"Must be nice to have lots of siblings," Harry mused.

Ron shrugged, looking a bit gloomy. "Sometimes, I guess," he admitted.

They were interrupted twice during the trip; first by the trolley lady from whom Harry and Elizabeth bought a variety of sweets; the second time was by a girl with bushy brown hair, brown eyes and rather large front teeth; she was already wearing her school uniform.

"Excuse me," she said, "have any of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville has lost one."

"No, we haven't," Ron said. "Now go away."

"I was only asking," the girl snapped at him.

"Sorry," Elizabeth said with a smile. "We haven't seen a toad, but we'll keep an eye out."

The girl returned her smile. "Thank you, you'd better get into your robes, we're nearly at Hogwarts." Harry and Elizabeth nodded and the girl left; they turned to glare at Ron.

"What?"

"Didn't your mother teach you any manners?" Elizabeth snipped before leaving. Harry sighed and also left to get changed.

The train shuddered as it came to a halt at the Hogsmeade Station. A large man named Hagrid, who was holding a lantern, called over all the first year students to the boats and took them across the lake to the castle where they were met by a stern looking older witch who introduced herself as the Deputy Headmistress, Professor McGonagall.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said. "When you enter the Great Hall you will be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. This is a very important ceremony because while you are here, your houses will be like your family; you will have classes with them, sleep in your house dormitories and spend free time in your house common rooms. Each house has a noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While at Hogwarts your triumphs will earn house points, while rule breaking will lose 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. Please wait here for a moment." She left them on the steps for a minute or two, then returned, "Please follow me."

McGonagall led them into the Great Hall.

It was a magnificent place, lit by thousands of floating candles, with four long tables that had the rest of the students as well as a one higher table at the front that had the faculty. Sitting in the middle of that table was an old man in garish purple robes, with a long beard. Harry recognized him from the Chocolate Frog card as Albus Dumbledore.

The ceiling was dotted with stars; the bushy-haired brunette from before whispered behind him that it was enchanted to look like the sky outside, something she had read in Hogwarts, A History. They stopped in front of a battered looking wizard hat.

Professor McGonagall stepped aside and unrolled a scroll. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbot, Hannah."
A pink-faced girl with blond pigtails stumbled to the front, put on the hat and sat down. After a moment it shouted: "Hufflepuff."

The Hufflepuff table cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down there.

"Black, Elizabeth." McGonagall did a double take and there as much muttering throughout the great hall as the Elizabeth walked forward with a smirk on her face. She ignored the muttering and put the hat on. Another moment and then: "Gryffindor!"

Now it was the Gryffindor table's turn to applaud, though with varying levels of enthusiasm, as she walked over and took a seat.

"Bones, Susan."
"Hufflepuff."
"Boot, Terry."
"Ravenclaw."
"Brocklehurst, Mandy."
"Ravenclaw."
"Brown, Lavender."
"Gryffindor."
"Bulstrode, Millicent."
"Slytherin."
"Corner, Michael."
"Ravenclaw."
"Cornfoot, Stephen."
"Hufflepuff."
"Crabbe, Vincent."
"Slytherin."
"Davis, Tracey."
"Slytherin."
"Dunbar, Fay."
"Gryffindor."
"Entwhistle, Kevin."
"Ravenclaw."

Harry began to notice that the amount of time each Sorting took varied. "Finch-Fletchley, Justin" went to "Hufflepuff" almost immediately while "Finnegan, Seamus" sat on the stool for almost a full minute before the Hat shouted: "Gryffindor."

"Goldstein, Anthony."
"Ravenclaw."
"Goyle, Gregory."
"Slytherin."
"Granger, Hermione."

The bushy-haired brunette almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"Gryffindor," the hat shouted.
"Greengrass, Daphne."
"Slytherin."
"Hopkins, Wayne."
"Hufflepuff."
"Jones, Megan."
"Hufflepuff."
"Li, Su."
"Ravenclaw."

"Longbottom, Neville." Neville's Sorting took the longest so far and when the hat finally shouted "Gryffindor," Neville ran off still wearing it and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag," who went to "Ravenclaw."

"Macmillan, Ernie."
"Hufflepuff."

"Malfoy, Draco." The pale boy from Madam Malkin's swaggered forward and the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed: "Slytherin." Malfoy went to join Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.

"Malon, Roger."
"Ravenclaw."
"Moon, Lillian."
"Hufflepuff."
"Nott, Theodore."
"Slytherin."
"Parkinson, Pansy."
"Slytherin."
"Patil, Padma."
"Ravenclaw."
"Patil, Parvati."
"Gryffindor."
"Perks, Sally-Anne."
"Hufflepuff."

"Potter, Harry." Harry stepped, ignoring the whisperings that suddenly broke out all over the hall.
'Well, well,' said a small voice in his ear, 'this is difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage, yes, but also a keen mind, there's talent and a nice thirst to prove yourself; yet I also see in you the potential to be utterly ruthless in the protection of those you care about. What would you say to Slytherin, hmm?'
'If it has people like Draco Malfoy, no thank you.'
'Hmm, yes, that would be a problem I see. Very well then, better be GRYFFINDOR!" Harry took off the hat and walked toward the Gryffindor table, receiving the loudest cheer yet. Harry sat down next to Elizabeth and turned his gaze toward and across the High Table as the Sorting continued.

"Prewett, Mafalda." Mafalda had barely placed the hat on her head when it screamed out, "Slytherin."
"Rivers, Oliver."
"Hufflepuff."
"Roper, Sophie."
"Gryffindor."
"Runcorn, Andromache."
"Slytherin."
"Smith, Zacharias."
"Hufflepuff."
"Spinks, Ashley."
"Hufflepuff."
"Thomas, Dean."
"Gryffindor."
"Turpin, Lisa."
"Ravenclaw."
"Weasley, Ronald." Ron took a seat and put the hat on his head, and it shouted out, "Gryffindor." Harry clapped with the rest as Ron took a seat across from him.
"Zabini, Blaise."
"Slytherin."

Professor McGonagall rolled up the scroll and took the Sorting Hat and stool away.

Professor Dumbledore stood. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I have only a few announcements: First years should take note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all students. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors and that there is a long list of banned items on the door to his office. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term; anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. Finally, the third floor corridor on the right-hand side is under renovation and is thus out of bounds. Now, let us eat." Dumbledore clapped his hands and food appeared on the tables, much to the amazement of the first years.

"Why didn't you tell me that you're Harry Potter?" Ron asked. Harry just shrugged.

"I didn't want to," he said and started piling food on his plate.

"So, you're Harry Potter," Hermione said. "I've read a lot about you."

(*)

Albus Dumbledore took a sip of his glass, using the gesture to inconspicuously look at Harry, who was sitting between Miss Black and Miss Granger, chatting animatedly with them and laughing at something one of them had said. In some distant corner of his mind an alarm was going off, insisting that something was somehow subtly wrong with the way Harry was interacting with Miss Black considering that they shouldn't have known each other prior to today. He also knew that something odd had happened a month ago but it was hard to remember because he had neglected to write it down and, to his perspective, it had actually been three months ago due to his use of a time-turner to repeat every day twice. It was the only way to keep up with all of his jobs and that wore away at a person.

More than once he had considered stepping down from the other two jobs and just being the Headmaster, which was the only one of those jobs he truly enjoyed, yet he feared what would happen if he stepped out of politics—keeping the bigots in check was a herculean and largely thankless task for they never ceased looking for new ways to subtly undermine muggleborn rights. Never anything blatantly obvious of course, just a constant slow drip often cloaked in other agendas or masked by patronizing expressions of false concern.

British muggleborns had no idea just how great they had it compared to the rest of the world; in so many other countries they were blatantly second-class citizens and barely tolerated. The situation was worst in the United States of America as despite the repeal of Rappaport's Law in 1965, muggles-or No-Majs as they were called across the pond-were still viewed as the outright enemy due to the Scourers and thus muggleborns were taken from their families after their first accidental magic incident and raised as wards of the magical government, with their muggle families and friends getting Obliviated.

If not for Dumbledore's tireless efforts, that situation would have been gradually mirrored here as well in the ten years since Voldemort's defeat. No, he could not step down now or anytime soon.

(*)

After the feast Percy led the Gryffindor first years up several flights of stairs, until they reached the seventh level; at the end of the corridor was a portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress.

"Password?" she asked.

"Caput Draconis," Percy said and the portrait swung open to reveal a round hole in the wall. They scrambled inside to a cozy round room full of squashy armchairs. The girls went up one flight of stairs, the boys another. At the top of the spiral staircase was door marked for first years, with four-poster beds hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up.

Too tired to talk much, Harry pulled on his pajamas, climbed into bed and was asleep at once.

(*)

A/N: So in case you don't want to bother counting, there are 44 students in Harry's year: 11 Gryffindors, 10 Ravenclaws, 12 Hufflepuffs, and 11 Slytherins; 21 are purebloods, 13 are halfbloods, 8 are muggleborns, which fits with the 50/30/20 ratio that is the general rule of thumb for the Wizarding World. Even if you stripped it down to just the canonical 40 that ratio would still be maintained.