AN: I'm going off the canon descriptions, just so everyone knows.

The hat slid down over his eyes and the world went dark. "My word Mr Potter, what a strange mind you have. I don't know quite what to make of it."

Harry sat silently, feeling a little strange as the 'sorting hat' poked around in his head. Father always refused to tell him anything about it, so he'd had to go to Remus with his questions. The only reason he hadn't torn it from his head by now was that it was enchanted to never disclose a person's secrets.

"I see you've already began developing a healthy level of paranoia Mr Potter. No response eh? I have a feeling that's your father's fault? That's what you call him to yourself, isn't it, even if he won't let you use it to his face?"

Harry sat there patiently. He supposed opening up to the hat would make the process go faster, but he frankly didn't want to answer it's questions. He must have been correct because the hat actually felt disgruntled at his lack of reply.

"You aren't making this easy, are you?" The hat seemed to sigh for a moment. "God I hate dealing with the paranoid. They're already busy building barriers and yours are frustratingly sturdy. Very well. I'll have to use your friends. It doesn't fall under my confidentiality enchantments if you're both part of the memory."

Harry felt a wave of panic wash over him and the hat laughed.

"Finally a way into you're head, eh Potter? You know I could sense someone's handiwork all over Miss Granger and Mr Longbottom's minds? Had me quite puzzled until I realised they were thinking about the same person. They see you completely differently, you know? Of course you do. You worked hard at it."

Harry felt a wave of anger wash over him. How dare the hat suggest he would manipulate his friends. He only wanted-

"What's best for them?" finished the hat, laughing. "Yes, I can see that. You love them dearly, that much is certain. Ah... so that's what you are."

Harry frowned, confused.

"Believe me, that's the way I'm feeling myself right now," said the hat. "You know the only reason your friends ended up in Hufflepuff was because of you? I hadn't been able to see it until I saw the way your mind worked, but it's obvious now."

"What are you talking about?" said Harry, his curiosity finally peaked enough to open his mouth, metaphorically of course.

"You've managed to imprint on them your obsession with loyalty Potter," said the hat smugly, apparently pleased to finally have an inroads on Harry's mind. "See Mr Potter, you're a lot like a Hufflepuff, but a strange one. You manipulate your friends to turn them into what you think would be the best version of them and you don't want many of them. You even prefer to be an outsider. So, the question is, should I put you in Hufflepuff when you're so atypical of that house and I've still only seen a fraction of who you are?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Yes. I want to be with my friends."

"Hah! You are a Hufflepuff, aren't you? Better tell the audience then... HUFFLEPUFF!"

Harry took the hat off his head and handed it back to a stunned looking McGonagal. He frowned. "Is there a problem, Professor?" He didn't like it when people paid him too much attention and he could tell the woman was only one of many in the hall.

"Not at all Mr Potter," she said, shaking herself. "Go on to your table."

He felt the eyes of everyone in the hall on him as he made his way over to the Hufflepuff table and sat down between Neville and Hermione. Suddenly, his new house seemed to realise what had just happened and burst in applause, with the rest of the hall eventually following suit. Harry glanced around, smiling at the people who shook his hand and quietly memorising their names. He looked over at the other tables. The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws both looked as stunned as the Hufflepuffs had, though a good deal less pleased about it. The Slytherins seemed to think the entire thing was a massive joke, especially Draco. That was... good. It meant that people would expect less of him.

Harry glanced up at the staff table. The plump woman who must have been Professor Sprout was beaming proudly, but the rest of the table looked flabbergasted and disappointed in turn. His parents had been favourites of Professor McGonagal and so he was unsurprised to see she was particularly disappointed. Dumbledore seemed less bothered, although Harry supposed being a politician he must have been able to cover it up incredibly well.

Severus Snape however looked utterly disbelieving, like his entire world had been turned upside down. Harry supposed, given what his father had told him, he'd been expected some hooligan bully. He'd never really had the heart to tell Father what he really thought of all the pranks the marauders had pulled off. Thinking about it, Snape was probably going to have it in for Harry. From the descriptions he'd heard of the man he sounded like one to hold a grudge.

While the food that appeared was excellent, the school notices were... slightly concerning. A third floor corridor was forbidden on threat of 'painful death'. That hardly seemed sane. He wondered whether he could find a way to include that in his letter to Sabrine, but doubted it. That girl was far too observant. He was probably risking the Statute of Secrecy just by writing to her at all, but she was Harry's friend and he would never willingly lose her.

Eventually they were sent off to bed and followed their prefects down towards the kitchens. One of the prefects explained that it was hidden behind one of the barrels and that you had tap on it in the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff'. Unfortunately each person had to do it individually for security purposes, so it took a long time to get everyone through and one boy, Zacharias Smith, who mucked up the rhythm and found himself doused in vinegar. When the boy finally crawled through the tunnel five minutes later, still stinking to high heaven, the prefects had already organised the students into a loose circle in the round room.

Harry glanced around. They were underground in what appeared to be a converted basement, but there were round windows high in the walls, which let in starlight. It looked like the windows were just at ground level, because he could see the waving of grass. There were plants everywhere, many shifting and dancing and large, squishy armchairs in yellow and black. From the walls, a few smiling portraits looked down on them, quietly gossiping with their neighbours. He liked this place; it felt incredibly safe and secure. There was a crack in the wall and a larger door opened. Professor Sprout strode through, smiling.

"Welcome to the Hufflepuff basement!" Her nose twitched and she chuckled. "Don't worry Mr Smith, someone will take you to be cleaned up later. For the moment, may I just say how wonderful it is to have new members. You'll find everyone here very welcoming and I'm sure if you need help, you'll only have to ask. Now, just so everyone knows, the entrance has a security system if you mess up the rhythm." She smiled gently at Zacharias to show that nothing was meant by her words, but he still scowled. "The Hufflepuff Rooms have never been breached in over a thousand years." Harry's ears perched up at this. He liked the sound of that. "We would like to keep it that way. I'll trust all of you to keep it a secret. Now, prefects, why don't who take our new badgers off to bed?"

The group was split up and led to one of the rooms in the cellars where warm looking four poster beds sat waiting for them. Waiting until the others had turned their back, Harry quickly cast a few spells he had learnt on his bed. He'd had his mother's wand since he was nine and been learning protective magic ever since his father had thought it funny to turn his hair blue while he was sleeping. Hoping behind the curtains and getting changed, Harry snuggled down into the bed. Although he'd expected to take some time to fall asleep, the warm and strange sense of safety ensnared him and suddenly, he had drowsed off.

HPHPHP

"They're the same plant Professor. You use it in the wolfsbane potion." Snape looked like he wan't certain whether he wanted to be impressed or furious and Harry was glad Hermione had gotten his signal and kept her hand down. He looked ready to take his anger out on someone, anyone, and Harry didn't want it to be one of his friends.

As he'd suspected Snape had gone for Harry from the get go. He was just grateful he'd always taken an interest in his mother's second favourite subject, or he'd have been in real trouble. Those were not first year questions.

"Well, why aren't you all writing that down?" Professor Snape swept up to the front of the room, his robes billowing. Harry quickly noted it down with a ball-tip pen in his muggle notebook for safe measure and then watched as the instructions for today appeared on the board. He knew this recipe and remembered some of the changes that could be made to make it cook slightly faster. However, since he was working with Neville, he had to take it slower and explain the changes he was planning.

While Neville was carefully stirring while Harry chopped up the last ingredient, he felt a dark shape above him. "Potter," came the silky voice. "What are you doing?"

"Professor?"

"You've changed the recipe. Why?"

Harry could hear the menace in the man's voice and gulped nervously. "Well if you adjust-"

"I will not stop you, Potter, but if your experimentation endangers your classmates, I'll see you expelled." Snape sneered down at him, his hooked nose making Harry think of a vulture. "Do you understand?"

Okay, now he was seeing why Father didn't like the man. "Yes sir," he said, schooling his face. Snape swept off and Harry felt the eyes of both the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws on him. He hoped that their own fear of the man would keep their attention off him for the most part. He liked being left alone.

After class was over and he delivered his and Neville's sample, Hermione rushed over to him. "What did you?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"I modified the recipe a little. I've brewed some of the first year potions before and most of them are simplified for school students."

Hermione's eyes went wide and Harry was glad she wasn't about to berate him. "Oh! Which potions have you brewed? Are you sure its safe?"

"He mostly knows potions to reverse afflicted conditions," piped up Neville, walking beside them.

"Yeah," said Harry, grinning. "Living with Sirius, it practically becomes a necessity."

She frowned. "Why? He always seemed so careful."

"Oh he is," assured Harry, grimacing. "He just also happens to have a love of pranking. Says he likes to keep me on my toes. I think he just finds it funny."

"Oh," said Hermione, surprised. "Why didn't he ever do anything like that to me or Sabrine?"

"Sirius wouldn't dare doing it to one of my friends. He knows I don't respond well to it."

Neville sniggered quietly, leaving Hermione looking alarmed. "Harry doesn't prank. He booby traps. You should see what he's rigged up for his trunk."

"What!?"

Hermione looked horrified and Harry laughed. "It only affects would-be thieves," he said, smirking. "I actually applied it before I thought about the fact Sirius wouldn't be able to get at it. Kind of a waste of time, really."

This didn't seem to reassure Hermione however. "But what did you do?" she asked, a pleading tone in her voice. Harry simply grinned. It was always funny watching Hermione stew over a mystery. He started running before she could begin to berate him, laughing. "I hate it when he does that," said Hermione under her breath.

Neville smiled. "It is a little annoying, isn't it?"