-Chapter Two: Make Me Yours, #344-

Ugh.

Harry could not, for the absolute life of him, find the right outfit.

Usually, he would just pull on whatever (considering he always looked good), but today was special. He was going to go back to school! And he won't be near Dudley.

Yesterday, Harry was very much troubled over the fact that the kids at Hogwarts might act the same as the Muggles at his old school did. He was mortified to ask Minerva about their opinions, including her own, about the topic of sexuality but she gave him an answer that made his mood go from zero to one-hundred in seconds.

"Mr. Potter, Wizards are much more tolerant than Muggles. The only Witches and Wizards against homosexuality are the Muggleborn who haven't quite adapted to our ways… Muggleborn children like that are very rare, though, and most are not nearly as close-minded. No, there is no prejudice over such things; blood purity, however, is a whole other subject…"

She went on to explain the Pureblood, Halfblood (like himself), and Muggleborn. She spoke about Voldemort (a name she would only speak once, and shivered in fear over - really, how cowardly to quiver over a name, especially for the head of Gryffindor House!) and his policies (which Harry had to admit she sounded quite bias towards despite her fair demeanor), and Death Eaters.

She was much more informative than any book on blood purity and wizarding customs, but Harry vowed to find a reliable source on Voldemort's ideals before he made any decision. A real-life Death Eater would do the job perfectly - only one of the Inner Circle or elite, though. Who knows how those low position hooligans think now that the Dark Lord's been vanquished?

No, not killed, vanquished. As in defeated in battle. Harry couldn't possibly believe that a wizard that powerful would be killed by him, especially as a baby. Matter of fact, nobody could be (Not even those weak motherfuckers who fought Harry for his favorite eyeliner during Christmas sales, fights that he, a newly eleven year-old boy won).

He decided to wear his absolute above-all favorite top, his most loved and precious set of lacy underwear, with the prettiest blue garters attached to them. It was for him, today; a boost of confidence for himself, and when the silk would rub against him as he walked he'd constantly be reminded of it. Well, it could be for someone else… but Harry doubted that. Minnie (as he'd affectionately nicknamed her) may or may not have implied that most of the students besides the Muggleborn at Hogwarts were a bit prudish until marriage. What a bummer.

...But they couldn't all be against it, right? Or, he could snag a professor, if they looked at least a six out of ten, minimum…

Whatever. He could think about that later. He needed to get on that train.

Harry pulled on some clothes, re-shrunk his trunk (nobody was going to look through it, not on his watch! He had some… things in there that needed to stay hidden), and stepped out of the King's Cross public restroom.

He hurried to the area between Platforms Nine and Ten and waited for a wizarding family to show up. He had to play the part as "scared, bewildered Harry Potter", new to the Wizarding world and needing emotional support. Who would help a confident boy who looked like a third year? Nobody. Everybody, however, would help a confused ickle firstie.

Harry spotted a large family of redheads nearing, bickering and laughing at one another's expense (especially at the youngest boy) and being scolded by their mother - Oh, hot damn, Harry finally found a use for that Wizarding saying Minnie taught him.

Merlin help him, those were some damn fine twins. The only other boy who looked older was a snobby-looking boy, not even a six in his book, but those twins.

He felt their auras - mischievous, fierce, and quite devilish. Daring. They could possibly go for Harry.

But now, he had to wait. Bid his time, until it was the right moment to strike. Just like what the snakes in the shed at Number Four said. Hunting for meat applied to hunting for boys, right?

He was getting off track.

"H-Hello?" Harry put on his best 'I need some tender love and kisses from a surrogate mother' face. "Would you perhaps know the way to Platform Nine and Three Quarters? I asked around, but nobody seems to have heard of it."

The mother of the family looked at him with warmth in her eyes. Her aura felt of kindness and something Harry never knew how to pick out, something orange-yellow that he always saw in a good mum. "Of course, dear. Just follow Fred and George," The mother pointed to each one respectively, "-the twins, and you'll be right as rain." She smiled.

"Mum, I'm Fred,"

"And I'm George."

The two grinned, and Harry thought of multiple scenarios where that in-sync ability could come in handy, involving a bed, or a desk, or a kitchen counter.

"Hey, there!" The smallest boy greeted with a friendly smile. Harry could see he was genuine, but he was wary of the boy. Trusting teenagers was easier than trusting adults or people his age. "My names Ron, Ron Weasley. Are you a first year, too?"

"My name's Harry. Just Harry."

"Boys, the Express leaves in five minutes - Fred and George Weasley, you are absolutely not pulling the same stunt you did last year, don't get those looks on your faces, I know that look-"

"Yes, Mum…"

Harry watched in mild bemusement as the twins' ideas were shattered. "Ma'am, may I ask you your name?"

Mrs. Weasley's mood returned to Mother hen mode and she turned to Harry. Harry swore she murmured 'what nice manners!' in a strange sort of astonishment. "My name is Molly Weasley, dear."

He decided he liked Molly and her pack of ginger spawn.

The Hogwarts Express was great, in Harry's opinion. It was grand, and held this air of magicthat made him feel so alive. It just had really annoying people near it.

Families were everywhere, kissing their teary-eyed children away to their first year, or hugging them and their child saying 'yes, mum, dad, I'll owl'. Harry had never felt so… Sickened.

But the feeling was immediately wiped away when the train look off, and soon the Scottish highlands were all Harry could see. Well, Scottish highlands and books, that is. He speed-read through the textbooks, especially the potions and charms texts (if he could find something to make his hair shinier, or his eyes more bright, he'd cry with joy), but his eyes started to hurt after so long. Right as he was going to leap into La-La land, the place that he soon found out to actually be called his 'mindscape' from his books, he heard three identical knocks on his compartment door.

What the hell do they want?! If it's an admirer or something, I swear I'll…

"H-Harry." Draco greeted with pink dotting his cheeks. He was obviously trying not to let his aristocrat act slip, to be like his father (who Harry admittedly found to be another target of his desires), but failed. "Can we sit with you?"

Behind Draco stood two others - a dark skinned boy who seemed to have no interest in being there at all, and a girl who Harry could only describe as "pug-ish". Ugh, she needed to get something for those pores. And her lips-lip balm exists for a reason.

Harry could only nod. He wasn't sure how to act around those two, and he sure as hell wasn't interested in being manipulated like all those drunk guys at the bar almost succeeded in. And from what he'd read from Cosmopolitan, he had to make sure he did look as uncertain as he felt so he couldn't be taken advantage of.

"This is Blaise Zabini, and Pansy Parkinson. Pureblood." Draco introduced. The four of them settled into a comfortable silence while Harry thought about his plans for the day.

"Want to play Exploding Snap?" Draco asked as they all sat down. It was Harry's outrageous luck that landed him his own compartment, and the blond Pureblood sure was going to take advantage of it. Nobody else outside of his room was allowed to see him like this - carefree, that is.

"What's that?"

All three Slytherins (really, there was no need for a Sorting, it was obvious) gasped in unison at the question. "You don't know what Exploding Snap is? What, do you live with a herd of Hippogriffs, too?" The girl gaped.

Harry shrugged, snorting distastefully. "I lived with muggles, so close enough. Though they could also be labelled as whales."

Ah, so that's how to get into the Pureblood heart. Insult the weak, use witty comebacks, and from what Minnie described, act a lot like the Potions Master at Hogwarts. Fitting for the Head of Slytherin House, really.

Draco sneered. "Muggles? That filth really raised you, the heir of the Potter family? I find that hard to believe."

"Believe it Blondie, because it's the fact of the matter." Harry winked at him slyly, hoping to improve the mood by teasing Draco a bit.

Harry hated talking about the Dursleys.

Apparently, it worked, and he sighed internally in relief as Draco blushed and fiddled with his hands in his lap. This was going to be quite fun, he could tell.

"Firs' years! Firs' years, follow me!" The tall man with the beard said. Harry had never seen someone so tall before, it was like he wasn't even human! Which, from what Harry could pick out from his aura, seemed to be partly true, though he wasn't sure exactly how. But that wasn't what had Harry distracted. He had huge feet, and you know what they say about men with big feet...

Minnie talked about the houses for a little while, which Harry tuned out in favor of daydreaming, as he already knew the information from the woman herself.

Harry hadn't noticed the Sorting ceremony had begun until some girl, Hannah something, was called up and the hat yelled in its centuries-old croak, "Hufflepuff!"

Soon, Draco was up, and he obviously got sorted into Slytherin like expected. Harry told the nervous boy there were no doubts he would make it into the house of snakes, but it was the principle of it all.

Pansy went up. Slytherin.

"Harry Potter!" Minnie called out. Whispers erupted in the hall like he was the Queen - did they have nothing better to do than to stare at a firstie's scar, no matter the means of how it was received?

Harry calmly stepped up to the stool, murmuring, "Yay, time to get stereotyped," before the hat was set atop his head and a voice was in his mind.

"Impressive," The hat said. "Occlumency at this age? Even some Legilimency? How interesting, just like yourself, Mr. Potter… Ah, but it seems you are more a fiend then you are said to be."

"Oi! I'm not that bad. Dudley doesn't need the cash, anyways. It's stolen from small, defenseless children. I buy things with it that I need."

"Like I am not aware of that?" The Sorting Hat seemed to snort, which was strange, because Harry was sure hats had no nose to snort with. "Wandless magic as well? I haven't had a pupil with that talent before Hogwarts since Tom…"

"Tom? Lemme guess, his name is now Voldemort?"

"Yes, it was Tom Riddle who grew to be so powerful… Yet, you seem to be giving him a, in Muggle wording, run for his money. How did you deduce that name, Harry? I can only see flashes of memories, not full ones, you know."

"Well, no mother would look at her child and say, 'What a beautiful baby, how cute… I think I'll name him Voldemort.'. So I looked into it, and, well… you know the rest."

"Indeed. What an intelligent child, but so damaged…"

"Hey! I resent that!"

Harry had taken a pout and other facial expressions during their conversation, which puzzled nearly the entire hall. Professor Sprout had a stopwatch running, and so far the time was five minutes.

"I hope he beats the record," She told Flitwick, who nodded in excitement.

"There is no shame in admitting you have been wronged."

"..."

"Promiscuous, at this age… Such a shame… Very clever, but cunning, as well. This is becoming quite a difficult case - I must admit, Mr. Potter, that you are an enigma to me."

"Oh, joy." Harry responded with a sigh. "Could you just not choose Gryffindor or Hufflepuff? Red and Yellow are definitely not my colors."

"I had no doubt those were not the houses for you. You are neither extremely loyal, nor courageous enough to suit them. I suppose you could be called friendly…"

"You shut it, mister."

Professor Flitwick was watching Harry and the timer intently in hopes the boy would beat the record. "Only thirty more seconds, and then the seven minutes and sixteen seconds would finally lose its place!" He whispered to his colleague excitedly.

"I suppose I must leave it up to you, then, child. I have only asked this once before, and that was because of the same boy we spoke of before. He chose his path, one that was great, however terrible… You must choose yours, as well."

Harry really did have to think about that for a second. What house did he wish to be in? He wanted to remain with Draco, who would definitely be a useful asset to him if he played his cards right, and perhaps even a friend if the blond wouldn't be so dim-witted in his presence in the future. Slytherin would do him well, and being around people who were like him would ease the stress of his shoulders. Not to mention his little 'talent' with the snakes, which would obviously land him some worshiping ground for others in Slytherin to grovel on, but… that would be too easy. No challenge at all!

And so that left Ravenclaw. Green did him better, but blues were just as well. And with others as intelligent as he? With wit that rivalled his own? It sounded like a fantasy! It would be a challenge to surpass the others, and not to mention how close the Ravens were with the Snakes. He could go down to the library and read whenever he wished, without being looked at strange.

Having to hide himself behind a mask could prove to be a pain in the future, but it wasn't too difficult, and the chase was always better than the capture anyways.

"You have made a choice, I see?"

"I have."

"And what would that be?"

"Oh, stop with the damn games and just say it. The Gryffindors are practically wetting themselves in anticipation of me going to their house; I can't wait to see their faces when I'm sorted with the bookworms."

"Fine, fine. Just remember to stop by the old coot's office and talk to me sometime. I enjoy a stimulating conversation at times. Perhaps you can get me off of that dusty shelf and let me see how things have changed?"

"Alright, fuck! Just say it already!"

"What language… Fine. Better be…"

"Ravenclaw!"