A/N: Mainly answering questions i got in reviews. If everything is crystal clear, you can skip this!
Right. Another chapter, just a tad longer this time. Now, about people bugging me that Harry couldn't speak to snakes- newsflash people, anyone can speak to snakes. I can speak to snakes. Weather they understand me or not- now that's a whole different story. And about Harry not understanding and not speaking parseltongue, another newsflash, Dumbledore can understand parseltongue. It's just a language, even some stories make it seem something much more than that. And in two hundred years, a man can learn much, and if he has Harry's memory... well, that would be telling (wink wink :D).
FIRST OF ALL, READ THE FRIGGIN' DATES, THEY WERE BOTH TEN WHEN HARRY SHOWED HER THE LIBRARY!!! NOT SEVEN, NOT 5.091270124, BUT TEN!!!
Second of all, i got this in a review:
"How is it possible that Lily didn't suspect that something was wrong with Harry all this years?"
Well, if you would define 'wrong', I'd be happy to answer that question. If you're thinking about his intellect, Harry is not showing much (as you shall witness a part of his genius in this chapter). If you are thinking about his grasp on magic, well, I guess she would be a little freaked out by that, but then again she already knew that Harry would have a great grasp on magic, since his core was so developed, as Dumbledore revealed to her in chapter 2. (did you skip chapter 2 altogether?)
Third, i got this in a review:
"why do you say alchimy is a dieing field I mean you can make new bodies, souls and just about anything permanent"
First of all, you cannot make souls with any kind of magic. You cannot raise the dead with magic, not truly (only prevent death, and that's pretty dark stuff, which Harry will stray clear off). You cannot create food with magic (Gamp's law and whatnot). You canot create love with magic (remember, amorentia creates obsession, not love). These laws will stay true to anything I write. Anything else you see in HP, you can bend, twist, and outright break and mutilate, and it will still be acceptable.
As for alchemy... How many alchemists are there in the HP world? Two, Albus and Nicholas, both as old as dirt. And why exactly is alchemy a dying art... reread chapter 1 and you'll find out.
Fourth, (getting boring, yah?) I got this in a review:
"Now, want you to move the mouse all the way to the left-hand lower corner of the screen, and click on that lovely little green button that says "Start". And then you move your mouse up...click "MY Documents"...open the story...AND START WRITING!"
First of all, I use the classic view in Xp and the classic start menu (basicaly the one that was in win98, much more practical and less resource-consuming). Therefore I don't have a My Documents icon in my start menu. Second, i don't even keep the stories in my documents. What are you, nutz? One system fuckup and I'll be formatting C: deleting everything in it, including my documents and the stories. And fuckups happen to me at least twice a month. I keep the stories in a safe location on an external drive.
Amen.
Fifth, i got this from Lientjuhh in a review:
"I like it.. Well done.. :)"
I have recieved this exact review numerous times, and I'm starting to think that this person has a review bot, just to keep authors appeased and have them keep the story going, keep the chapters posting, keep the wheels spinning, keep the monkey's jumping... Suspicious... :D
Sixth, and final (thank god, this chapter is taking forever to post):
People have been busting my balls, popping my bubbles and killing all joy in the world about the financial state of Lily and her family. The will said that they left everything to Harry, and in the event that Voldemort found them, they both expected to die. And in the cannon they did, leaving harry a nice trust fund. But now that Lily survived, the main vaults are shut until the heir of the Potter House (Harry) reaches 17. Sucks to be a muggleborn, as we all well know.
Well, that's it. Enjoy the story and REVIEW!!!
Disclaimer: See chapter one.
Chapter Four: The New Wand and the Sorting
Tears, involuntarily mind you, and sweat dribbled down his cheeks as he grit his teeth. They made it look so simple on that documentary, their faces expressionless as they did the same thing he did. But it hurt so much, he didn't know if he could stand it anymore. He sighed as he pushed himself off the floor and stood on one foot while removing the one he had placed on the bed before him. He took his pants off, then his underwear and bent down to inspect himself. The skin between his thigh and his pee-pee, as his mother had referred to it in the past, when she gave him baths, was red and raw from the stretching.
"Ah! Shit!" he hissed as he ran a smooth finger over the inflamed area and felt the skin sting under it. He sighed as he wordlessly and wandlessly conjured an icepack, a feat not even Dumbledore could say he achieved, and placed it on the bed. He stripped himself naked before he slowly sat on the icepack, sighing in relief as the stinging was replaced with a cold feeling.
He was locked in his room again, his mother punishing him for a thing that Jamie did and then blamed him for it. He still couldn't understand how his mother could think that he, the studious one, could splash a bucket of paint on the library wall. There were no evidence of who did it, but Harry hadn't even known what had happened before his mother was storming in the living-room where he sat curled up in front of the fireplace and reading a book, and unloaded on him. He was even tugged by the ear and deposited in his room before he could even defend himself.
He wiped his sweaty and tear-streaked face with a towel, and sighed again before he scratched himself 'down there', and looked at himself in the mirror. He desperately wanted to throw a tantrum, even if just to unload his feelings, but then again, he knew that a tantrum would be seen as nothing but a tantrum, and wouldn't do him any good. It would only bring more shouting down his ear. So, no tantrums.
He learned long ago that as a child he was emotionally unstable, and that he would burst into tears at the smallest inconveniences such as stubbing a toe or being pricked by a needle. He didn't have a clue as to why this was, but he chalked it up on his hormones. Tantrums were also hard to reign in and control and his emotions were slipping despite his mastery over the art of Occlumency. Adults always said that it was easy to be a kid, and that they would give anything to get their childhood back, but now it was obvious to him that they didn't quite remember the pool of feces they were in when they used to be children.
He sighed again, and scratched himself above the pee-pee. Why was he so itchy anyway? He bent down and looked at his pee-pee closely. Anyone but his mother would laugh if they saw it now, small and shriveled up, but he knew it would grow quite within the range of the average, and maybe, just maybe, now that he had decent nourishment, it would grow above the range of the average. He smiled at that thought, but something else caught his attention. There were small, almost invisible black hairs starting to grow around it. His eyes widened and he straightened up immediately. If he remembered well, this didn't start to happen until he was in the middle of his second year of Hogwarts. So why two years earlier?
He thought about it, but he didn't know enough about biology to make any sense of it, so he just shrugged and chalked it off to the nourishment. After all, before he went to Hogwarts, he didn't know that it was normal to actually have three meals per day. His relatives usually fed him- no, allowed him to eat, once or twice a day.
The stretching exercises were very painful, but he still did them anyway. He knew he couldn't rely on one power all the time, because it was like building a roof on only one support pillar. In the future, he had encountered wards that nullified any and all magic. If Voldemort ever got to that knowledge, he knew that all the magical power he had would be completely useless. It was still a mystery to him how the ancient Macedonians had created a ward cast by magic, to nullify magic. The wards were in a cave, and inside the cave was a great beast. He had barely got out alive that time, and curiosity took him over. Because of the wards, all magic that wasn't already in the cave failed spectacularly, so that meant that whoever placed the shackled beast in the cave and the wards in it, intended for the beast to be defeated without magic. Yet the cave was hidden from muggles by a ward intertwined with the ward that nullified magic.
He remembered it during a meditation, and curiosity took him all over again. What was in that cave that needed to be guarded by such a beast? Indeed, a saber tooth tiger, something that was supposed to be extinct, could be put to sleep by a simple stunning spell, but without magic… Of course, he could buy or steal a gun and kill it, but he felt that the thing had to be killed with only a blade, and nothing else. It was guarding something, but what, he didn't know.
So that is why he decided to start practicing and exercising his body. He wanted to see what was in that cave. Perhaps the secret of the nullifier ward lay in that cave, and he could take that knowledge and study it. Perhaps it was something else, but whatever it was, it seemed important.
At first he had used magical baby powder on the irritated skin, but it turned out that that was a mistake. It seemed that every time he put the powder on it, the skin healed, but didn't toughen or stretch at all, on the contrary, it became more fragile and sensitive, and in the end, he had to grit his teeth and use only ice. Of course, because of the sensitivity of the crotch area, not even ice could be used for extended periods of time, lest he damage his testicles. He didn't like it, but he knew that flexibility was the key to Shaolin Kung Fu, even though he rarely used it. Shaolin Kung Fu had moves that looked like straight out of a movie, and it was diverse, which meant with Shaolin Kung Fu you could defeat anything from a snake to a bear. The downside was that Shaolin Kung Fu used too much energy, so when fighting a human, he usually preferred Wing Chun. That was a martial art that was very effective when used against humans, yet it used the most simple and direct moves in order not to exhaust the practitioner. The technique was very good, and he was not surprised when he heard a theory that said it was designed by a woman.
So he got up from the ice pack and vanished it. He sighed again before he put on his clothes. He looked at the dragon tattoo on his arm and traced it with his fingers. He didn't have an idea what it stood for, just that he was born with it, but he had some inkling that it was caused by the sword he stabbed himself with. Over the years he had cast many revealing spells on it, and only discerned one thing. It was a living being of some sort, living inside the ink. He had tried to contact it using Legilimency, but it didn't seem to work. The milky white eyes of the tattoo were unresponsive.
He looked again at the locked door and sighed. It seemed that the only thing he did nowadays was sighing. He thought it was restlessness to see Hogwarts again. He was the headmaster for a short time, but this time he fully intended to take over once McGonagall retired.
The last time he was punished was some one hundred and ninety years ago, and he had forgotten how to cope with captivity. He figured it was not worth to dwell on it, and it was best to keep himself busy, so with a wave of his hand, his closet turned into a wooden dummy. He used to know these moves in his sleep, but with a new body, everything that he used to practice for was now down the drain. Toughness of the knuckles and the hands, muscle memory and power and flexibility were the pillars of a good martial artist, and they could be all gained through training on a wooden dummy. He may never beat anyone in a tournament, but a street punk with a knife was an easy target. Even someone with a wand at close range would be an easy target, mainly because no one would expect a wizard to fight like a 'dirty muggle', as the fanatic purebloods so lovingly put it. And so with a sigh, he began going through the moves slowly.
Harry sighed as he Sirius tapped the appropriate brick and the arc-like entrance to Diagon Alley opened. He wanted Hermione to come with him to do their shopping together, but her parents had taken her with them on a dentist's convention in the United States of America, and they wouldn't be back until the twentieth of August. And his mother refused to delay the shopping trip that she had planned, stating that if she delayed it, it would disrupt her plans all the way through mid December. So he and Sirius took off to Diagon Alley, and his mum and Jamie went to visit the Longbottoms. After their recuperation, they had a lot to catch up on, and his mother had even gotten a job through Alice's connections at St. Mungo's as a trainee healer, while Sirius was still unemployed, as ever.
"Alright, Harry. First off, we have to get you a wand. A wizard is nothing without his wand after all." said Sirius as he wove through the crowds of parents and students.
"Speak for yourself." muttered Harry to himself, and soon enough they were in front of Ollivander's. They entered the shop, and Harry spotted an oriental girl, Su Li, if he was correct, waving wand after wand, before she finally settled on a cherry wand with dragon heartstring as the core. Next up was a quiet boy that was in Harry's year, in Hufflepuff. He had never learned the name of the boy with mousy hair and silvery blue eyes, and after the boy tried a few wands and got his match, he was up next. He stood in front of Ollivander as the creepy man ordered the magical tape to take his measurements. They tried wand after wand, even the phoenix core wand from his former life, but to no avail. No wand wanted him.
"Curious, curious. You seem to be a difficult case, Mr. Potter. I tried all the variations I could think of, and I couldn't find a match for you. I'm afraid you would have to come in the back." Ollivander waved at him to follow, and he and Sirius approached slowly, but after several steps, Ollivander stopped and turned around.
"I'm afraid Mr. Potter will have to come with me alone. No one can enter in the back with him." said Ollivander softly.
"But, I'm his godfather!" exclaimed an affronted Sirius.
"Godfather or not, Mr. Potter and I are the only ones going through that door. Either sit and wait for us in the front, or go look for a wand elsewhere." said Ollivander slowly and softly, as if trying to discipline a naughty child. His words had that exact effect, as Sirius pouted and moved back and took a seat near the window of the shop.
Ollivander moved forward and leaned on the doorframe, before he started to whisper to it, as if it were sentient and he was explaining the situation to it. Harry strained his ears, and although he couldn't catch the words that the old man was murmuring softly, almost lovingly, Harry could identify the language as ancient Phoenician. Curious, as the old creepy man with silver eyes in front of him would put it.
"Come in and sit down. Don't touch anything." said Ollivander and settled him with a stare that would freeze any first year, Gryffindor or not. Harry nodded and followed Ollivander inside the back room and immediately seated himself in a plush black leather stuffed armchair. He looked curiously around the room. There were shelves with dusty jars set on them, odd gems and stones, and several closets.
"Hmm, where did I put them… ah, here they are." he said triumphantly as he picked up what seemed to be a pair of ordinary reading glasses from a drawer of a workbench covered in sawdust. He blew air to get rid of the dust before he pulled out a cloth from his pocket and cleaned them. He put them on his eyes and pulled out his wand.
"Now, sit still Mr. Potter. This isn't going to hurt one bit." he said as he approached him with the wand drawn. He prodded him with his wand tip on the chest several times, and twice on the tattoo he had on his right forearm before he whistled. He sent off a spell at a clipboard that lay on the workbench and a quill immediately rose up and started scribbling.
"A curious subject named Harry James Potter came to visit me for a wand on the third of august, nineteen ninety one. Born on July the thirty first, nineteen eighty, the subject is, obviously, currently aged eleven. The subject appears to have two cores, one of which is older than the other by an unknown amount of years. The older core emulates feelings of long lingering sadness and strangely enough, goodness and purity. The other, the younger core, emulates feelings of selfishness, fierceness and strangely enough, justice and determination. Subject also appears to carry an unknown entity in his right forearm, one that carries the same traits as the younger core within him. This is not a case of possession, but of symbiosis. The unknown entity is unknown number of years old, just as the older core; however, it carries the same traits as the younger, the eleven year old core, which is controversial. I shall now attempt to make a wand for the subject." said Ollivander as he flipped through the strange jars on the shelves. Harry could hear him muttering under his breath.
"Hmm, no, too much greed, what's this, insolence? No, that will not do. Hmm, fury. Good heavens no. Ah here we are. Yet, not. Hmm, tricky customer, tricky indeed… perhaps… yes that would do nicely." the old man muttered before he removed a jar from the middle of one of the higher shelves.
"Yes. Here we go." Ollivander said as he opened the jar and removed a single feather covered in a thick yellow goo. He brought it near Harry and put it near his chest, peering at his chest, then at the feather and then back again.
"The older core is compatible with a feather of a dying phoenix. However, a single feather is not nearly powerful enough in accordance to the size and, strangely enough the density of the older core. Therefore, I will have to use all three feathers I have available." said Ollivander clinically as he removed two more feathers from the jar and placed them all in a shallow stone bowl on his workbench. After that he went back to the shelves and continued muttering to himself, and Harry reddened in the face, tying to hold his laughter in when he noticed that the Auto-Quill wrote down the mutterings of the old man that he suspected was at least slightly touched in the head.
"Hmm, that younger core is going to be trickier than I thought. Let's see now… justice and determination, and… mellowness? Goodness no. Justice, justice, justice, justice and ruthlessness. No, that one has Crouch written all over it. Hmmm… Ah- no, no, that wouldn't work, now would it? Justice, justice… HAH! Got it!" exclaimed Ollivander as he removed an extremely dusty jar and wiping it down with a towel that was hung on the opposite wall.
"Here we go. Fortunately, one heartstring of a Golden Dragon, meticulously preserved through my forefathers will be quite enough for the estimated size the smaller and younger core will grow to. Fortunately, I say, because I happen to have only one heartstring from this amazing, long extinct, and unfortunately, nearly mythological creature. The cores would settle nicely in a triangular prism, but I'm afraid that any type of wood would be too fragile to support the output power of the wand. It seems that I have an extremely powerful customer." said Ollivander as he placed the single heartstring in another empty stone bowl.
"Therefore, I'm forced to 'borrow', so to speak, a technique from the older craft of staff making, a focusing stone to be exact. Focusing stones are not popular within wand lore, but then again, they aren't that popular because they are very rare. The focusing stone should have some outward physical connection with the subject. Let's see, subject has black hair, so, perhaps, a black diamond from the legendary Ur'thul mines." said Ollivander as he picked up a black stone from the shelves and held it against Harry's hair.
"No, the black diamond is not compatible with the subject, I'm afraid, as the black diamond represents maliciousness and, dare I say it, a deluded sense of superiority, a stone perfect for a little pureblood prince- no doubt. One specific characteristic remains then. The subject has strikingly green eyes. Emerald green eyes, to be precise. And I happen to possess an emerald from the Astera mine. A fine emerald, if a bit on the smaller side, formed into a hexagonal pyramid by exquisite Dwarven craftsmanship." Ollivander said as he picked up a small emerald stone and placed it between Harry's eyes. He looked at Harry's eyes, and then at the, stone, and back at the eyes, before he nodded.
"Excellent! The emerald is compatible. Now the only factor remaining is the wood." he said as he opened one of the cupboards against far side wall. After several minutes of quiet contemplation, and more than several glances at Harry, Ollivander pulled two thick branches of wood.
"The subject's mother favored a Willow wand, and it appears that the subject is compatible with willow as well, probably because he shares some characteristics with his own mother. The other wood, which I foolishly expected to be mahogany, which was a match for the subject's father, is something of an enigma. It is a branch of elder. There is only one wand with an elder wood in existence, and its current holder doesn't seem to have any kind of relationship with the subject at all. However, although reluctant, I am forced to use it, as it seems that no other wood is compatible with the subject, and only one wood would have poor magical input, and wouldn't do the wand justice. I have gathered all the needed parts and ingredients, and I no longer need the subject present. Auto-Quill off." said Ollivander to the clipboard, and the quill floated up from the parchment before it rested in an inkwell.
"Mr. Potter, the wand will be finished in three hours. I suggest that you come and pick it up then. And also, bring fifty seven galleons with you. You have claimed my most expensive materials, I'm afraid." said Ollivander, and Harry stood up from the chair.
"Alright sir. I'll be in your shop in three hours." said Harry before he exited the room and walked between the shelves stocked with wands until he reached the counter.
"Come on Sirius. Mr. Ollivander told me to come back in three hours." said Harry as he exited the shop, a confused Sirius following him.
"Er- What now?" asked Sirius uncertainly.
"The new wand Ollivander is making for me costs fifty seven galleons. Do you have fifty seven galleons on you?" asked Harry, and Sirius checked his money pouch.
"I have sixty one." said Sirius after counting the money.
"I'm afraid it will not be enough to buy everything I need. Let's try this. Give me the pouch and go to Gringotts and take another one hundred galleons. Meanwhile I will buy items from my list before I meet you here in half an hour. Deal?" asked Harry, and Sirius just nodded before handing Harry his pouch and proceeding to the big white building that was Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Harry just smiled and walked across the street to a trunk shop and bought himself a nice mahogany trunk with four compartments; one for clothes, one for books, one for delicate instruments and items and one for potion supplies. It came with four different keys, one for each of the four compartments, a lightweight charm, the standard protective and anti-theft charms and a neat shrinking charm.
After purchasing the trunk Harry sneaked a peek in the junk shop right next to it, hoping to find a pensive, but he was not lucky enough to find one, only useless torn history books, broken wands and sneakoscopes of dubious quality. Next, he visited Madam Malkin's robe shop, and he got several nice robes for himself besides the standard Hogwarts uniform set. He also bought two pairs of Dragon-hide boots and a woolen topcoat that would expand and grow with him over the years. He bought it mainly because it looked good on him and looked modern, and would pass in the muggle world with flying colors, while hiding any and all things that would unveil him as a wizard.
He met with Sirius at the designated spot, and they continued the shopping together. After buying a full set of potions ingredients from the apothecary, they bought a standard potions set at the nearby cauldron shop. Then they visited Flourish and Blott's bookstore and bought the entire standard first year book set on the list, before they visited the stationary shop and bought several self inking quills and dozens of rolls of parchment, which they all stored in the books compartment of his new four compartment trunk. It was with a happy face when he entered Eyelops Owl Emporium and bought a familiar snowy white owl which he immediately named Hedwig. He also bought her a cage, a stand for his room at home and a full bag of owl treats. He had missed Hedwig more than he realized. He finally bought a telescope for his astronomy classes, and with that, he finished the list. Three hours were definitely not up, so Harry and Sirius sat down at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor to have some ice cream and talk a little to pass the time.
Harry ordered his favorite flavors, treacle tart, blueberry and chocolate. Sirius ordered vanilla, cherry and kiwi. Harry ate his own ice cream, looking at Sirius' all the time. Vanilla, white as his mother's skin, cherry, as red as his mother's hair, and kiwi, as green as his mother's eyes. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. He looked down at his own ice cream. Chocolate, brown, probably Hermione's eyes, treacle tart, golden brown which kind of looked like Hermione's hair, and blueberry, his favorite fruit, which had no connection to Hermione, besides this awesome reoccurring dream of Hermione feeding him blueberries with her mouth he had from way, way back. Were they that obvious? Maybe; Sirius was pretty obvious and probably desperate too, but his own choice of flavors seemed more subtle.
"Look, Sirius, we have to get you hooked up with mum." said Harry suddenly, making a decision and speaking his mind at the same time. Sirius choked on his ice cream, and coughed up a piece of frozen kiwi before he looked at Harry incredulously.
"Erm- did I just hear what I heard?" asked Sirius, a confused frown etched on his face.
"Yeah, you did. I mean, think about it. You're practically me and Jamie's father, you're paining after her badly, and she is a single mother. Available. You blubbered up all those years ago, but for god sakes man, chances are everywhere around you." said Harry in a hushed tone of voice.
"Harry- god, this is uncomfortable, Harry listen, I- I wanted to try again for over a year now. She seems more warmed up to me now, although it could be my imagination. But I don't know how to do it." said Sirius, his long wavy black hair tossing about this way and that as he shook his head.
"Well, the first step is to act more serious- and I'm being serious, Sirius, no puns please- to act more serious around Jamie. Show him that life is more than just pranks. Things like responsibility, and maturity, knowledge and such. Tell him that life cannot always be a barrel of laughs, and that the laughter is only to lighten the mood, to make the day a bit brighter, you know, drivel like that. And for god sakes man, shave that thing on your face you call facial hair. It might have been endearing a couple centuries ago, but now it's not. Help around the house, and I don't mean just distracting and playing with Jamie, because Jamie is old enough now to read his own books, and you should also urge him to write more, his handwriting is a mess. Also, no matter how cool your animagus form is, it makes you smell like a wet dog. So take showers after you change back to human, and wear a particularly strong cologne and perfume." said Harry quickly, and funnily enough, Sirius pulled out a small notepad and took notes.
"Perfume? But perfume is for… girls." said Sirius, also in a hushed whisper.
"Was Sirius, was. That was ages ago, centuries. Just walk around Muggle London and ask in the shops for deodorant for men and a particularly strong cologne and perfume for men. Trust me on this one." said Harry as he took another spoon of his ice cream.
"Wait a minute. You're not even a first year. How do you know all this?" Sirius asked bewildered. Harry blushed and bowed his head down, while furiously thinking of a thing to explain his supposed knowledge.
"You promise not to laugh?" Harry asked in a small voice.
"Promise." said Sirius quickly. Harry lifted his red face to look at Sirius with something akin to desperation and horror, all carefully faked through Occlumency.
"You promise to tell no one? And I mean no one." asked Harry, and Sirius took a big breath before nodding.
"On my honor as a marauder." said Sirius seriously, and Harry saw that Sirius didn't intend to tell anyone.
"Well, you know I read a lot. And I mean, a lot." said Harry slowly, as if uncertain if he should be divulging this information.
"Yes. So?" asked Sirius, uncertain where Harry was going.
"Well, it's not only books I read in the library. Old magazines. Magazines for witches." Harry said in a harsh whisper, as if he promised eternal pain and suffering lest Sirius divulge this information to anyone, anyone at all.
"But, those are for witches. I don't quite understand, Harry." said Sirius. It was unbecoming of a wizard, especially a cool wizard, to read magazines for witches. After all, they were meant for witches, and were girly.
"Now yourself and know thy enemy, Sun Tzu, Art of War. That's how you conquer them, Sirius. That is how you conquer them." said Harry as he took another spoonful of chocolate ice cream. So far, so good.
"I understand. But why do you know all this info. Are you planning on dating someone?" asked Sirius curiously. Harry thought he could relate, so he resigned himself and told the truth.
"Well, there is this one girl…" Harry said and he trailed off. Sirius thought for a moment before he spoke.
"But you don't know any girls. Except… you mean that bushy haired squirt with the big front teeth-" he said, but he was cut off by his unfinished bowl of ice cream suddenly exploding violently, staining his black shirt in red, green and white ice cream, mingled with small shards of glass, none of which, thankfully, pierced his skin.
"Shut your mouth, Sirius, before I shut it for you!" said Harry in a harsh whisper as the other customers turned their attention to the to see what the commotion was all about. Sirius gulped, actually gulped, before he shook himself and spoke quietly.
"Sorry Harry. I- I spoke out of turn." said Sirius quietly, regret clearly seeping through his words. Harry sighed and took a moment to calm himself down, before he spoke again.
"I love you Sirius. You are my godfather, and I love you like a father. But you have a bad habit of yapping your mouth before you think about what you're saying." said Harry. Sirius just nodded and waved his wand over himself, cleaning the glass and the stains, before waving at the table and cleaning the ice cream off it. Harry pushed his ice cream away from him, not wanting to eat the glass shards that had undoubtedly fell in his own bowl.
"Any more advice?" asked Sirius curiously, and Harry thought for a while before he talked.
"I think it would be best to take her out for dinner some place nice. Outside. Let her rest from the interior of our house. It will be your treat, of course, but don't take her to a place that is outrageously expensive, because that way she will think that you're trying to buy her. Make sure your clothes are appropriate, but not flashy. Remember, she must be at the center of attention, not you. If you feel nervous, don't try to hide it. It will make her see that you truly care enough to feel nervous. And, use those pureblood decorum rules you got beat into your head at a young age. They will make you appear disciplined and attractive. No bad or unsavory jokes, no sexual innuendo, none of that joker stuff. Stick to that and you'll be fine." said Harry before he stood up, leaving a galleon to cover the ice cream and the damage to one glass bowl.
"It's time to pick up that wand at Ollivander's, and if we hurry back, we might have enough time to talk some more before mum and Jamie arrive home." said Harry as they hurried toward the old and dingy wand shop at the end of the alley. There was no one inside as Harry opened the door, only old Ollivander, quietly reading a newspaper behind the counter, and for once not startling customers with the help of a disillusionment charm.
"Ah, Mister Potter. Welcome back. I trust that you have the money with you?" asked Ollivander as he put down his copy of the Daily Prophet. Sirius lifted a large money pouch and shook it a bit, making the gold inside jingle.
"Articulate as ever Mister Black. Here is the wand." said Ollivander as he lifted a thin long box from behind the counter and placing said box on the top of the counter. He opened it gingerly, as the box seemed most exquisite, and saw the wand laying innocently inside it. The box was of highly polished mahogany wood, with a sleek finish and rounded edges, somewhat reminiscent of an expensive case for glasses, but it was quite longer than that. Inside, in black silken velvet, laid a long wand, which instead of the regular long cone shape, took on the shape of a long triangular prism with rounded edges. Harry took it in his hand, and immediately warmth flooded him, and a feeling of power, and a feeling like someone gave him back a limb that was severed long, long ago. There wasn't a shower of sparks, a flashy aura, an earthquake, and explosion or any kind of dramatic indication that this wand was the wand for him, but he knew from the moment he touched it. It was his.
He brought it closer to his eyes and removed his glasses so that he could inspect the wand closely and held it vertically in front of him. The wand was one of highest quality he had ever seen, and counting on how many insanely rich Dark Lords obsessed with their wands and illusions of superiority and power he had defeated and claimed wands from, that was saying quite a lot. The woods had been merged by an unknown technique, making the wand stout and yet have some flexibility to it, but not like his mother's wand, which had only one type of wood, willow. The grip was covered with twelve horizontal and shallow channels, each spaced approximately one centimeter from the other. Between these channels were many shallow and narrow holes, which, along with the channels seemed to have the sole purpose of providing an exquisite and solid grip to the wand. The grip was twelve centimeters long, seemingly a brown that was lighter than the rest of the wand, and the rest of the wand was twenty one centimeters long and a deep brown, nearly black color, making the total length thirty three centimeters. Almost thirteen inches.
Between the grip and the tip, there were many runes inscribed along its length, mainly for unbreakability, resistance to fire, cold, heat, water and acid, a charm to keep it the polish unscratchable, as well as a complicated set of runes to make the wand immune to expelliarmus, the standard disarming spell. The tip took one centimeter of the total length of the wand, which was painted a light green in contrast of the dark brown, almost black natural color of the elder and the willow wood of the rest of the wand. Inside the tip was the focusing stone, the emerald from the Astera mine. Only the tip of the emerald with a hexagonal pyramid shape was visible, as the rest was firmly set within the wand by means unknown to Harry. He hadn't bothered with wand lore in his past life, beyond what he had learned from Ollivander in the last twelve months before Voldemort fell. However, as he now seemingly know most of the magics on earth, perhaps this life he would dedicate in learning wand lore, and if Albus was willing to teach him, even advanced alchemy. The wand was beautiful, and he gently placed it within its box, before closing it slowly.
"Can I buy a wrist holster for this beauty?" asked Harry, and Ollivander grinned before he supplied him with a black wrist holster made of black dragon hide.
"Already made a new one to go with the wand. Free of charge of course. That is the most powerful wand I have made. Ever. Take great care of it. There are no more materials on earth, let alone in my shop, that can be used to replicate this wand." said Ollivander as he passed Harry the box with the wand in it and the holster. Harry reverently put them both in his trunk, and smiled when Ollivander gave him a subtle wink. Sirius was so stunned with the wand that he gave Ollivander sixty galleons instead of the required fifty seven, and when Ollivander tried to return the tree galleons, Sirius simply took Harry's arm and guided him out of the shop, after thanking the old wand maker and ignoring his attempts to return the three golden coins back.
"Wow! What a kick ass wand you got there Harry. How come Ollivander didn't make me one like that. All I got was a dragon heart string through a rough black ash branch." pouted Sirius in humor, and Harry responded in stride.
"Well, you know what they say Padfoot. A simple wand for a simple wizard." said Harry cheekily, and Sirius looked affronted for a moment before pouting exaggeratedly.
"I'll have you know, young Prongs, I'm a very complex and intriguing person. As complex and as intriguing as they go!" he said in mock outrage. They looked at each other and burst out in laughter, just before they reached the Leaky Cauldron Inn, and said hello to Tom the innkeeper before flooing home.
"Brother, don't goooo!!!" wailed little Jamie as he hugged Harry. People were turning and looking at them with small smiles, god knows what going through their minds. Harry sighed before he unglued himself from Jamie and bent down to look into the little troublemaker's teary eyes.
"Come on Jamie. It will be gone just for three months, and after that I will be home for Christmas. And then, I'll be home over the summer, and next year, you can come with me. What's the matter?" asked Harry in a low voice. His mother's eyes were sparkling with tears as she looked at them, he noticed from the corner of his eye, before Jamie sniffed again, his nose red from crying.
"But who will I play with meee? And who will I play pranks oooon? And who will tell me about responsibilityyyy? Harry, please don't gooooo!!!!!" wailed Jamie desperately. Harry sighed and looked at his brother with a small smile.
"Hey! Don't be so selfish, young man. You always play with Sirius, and I think is high time that you showed him who the real prankster in the house is. As for telling you about responsibility, I think that Mum and Sirius should take up my post. Jamie, look at me! No matter what, you will still be my brother! Blood is thicker than water, little brother, and you best remember that. Anyways, it's not like I'm going to a concentration camp. You can always send me letters, and I promise to write back at least once a week." said Harry softly. He have had doubts about his brother, but it seemed that he was worrying for nothing the whole time. His brother just wanted to have a good time, and being brought up by Sirius just had to make you an arsehole, no matter how superficially.
"You pro- you promise? " sniffed Jamie, wiping his nose off his sleeve. Harry smiled and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, actually conjured one, but what the heck, he doubted Mad-Eye was anywhere near to look through his coat into his pockets. He wiped Jamie's face before wiping his nose and stuffing the handkerchief back in his pocket, where it mysteriously vanished.
"I promise. Now be a good brother and take care of mum. Can I trust you with her?" he said as he cast a look at the teary eyed Lily. Jamie suddenly straightened and puffed out his chest while looking like a Malfoy instead of a Potter. Scratch that, the kid looked like a soldier.
"You can bet on it Harry!" he said, his upper lip stiffening. Harry smiled and saluted him, before he straightened up and turned to his mother. He hugged her and took a long and inaudible sniff from her perfume before he backed off and looked her in the eyes.
"Take care of the kids, mum." he said as he glanced sneakily at Sirius, who was transformed in to a dog. The big dog's eyes drooped, and he looked like someone stuck a firecracker up his… well, you know where. He smiled at him, kneeled down and scratched him behind the ears. He hadn't noticed before, but his godfather held something between his teeth. He looked closely, and just as he was about to take it away, it dropped in his hand. It was a miniature money sack, and when he met Padfoot's eyes, the sly dog winked at him. He looked at the miniature money pouch, and written in small letters on it was the word 'engorgio'. He smiled and winked at Padfoot, and the dog licked his face.
"Urgh. You dogs certainly know how to give a kiss. Yuck. Okay, listen up Padfoot. Keep Jamie entertained, show him some pranks, or even better have him read from the library some, so he don't come to Hogwarts being a complete dunce. And most of all take care of mum and Jamie, or I'll cut off your tail. Got it?" he said jokingly. Padfoot barked once, and Harry laughed before he scratched him one last time behind the ears and stood up. He spotted Neville's grandmother giving the chubby boy a pat on the back as he boarded the train, his mother and father waving at him.
A Dumbledore-like twinkle settled in his eyes as he saw the attire Augusta Longbottom was wearing. A light blue, almost white silk Chinese robe, with intricate decorations of midnight blue lines on it, complete with a white hand-held fan. He shook his head with a smile as he boarded the train and went down the corridor looking for an empty compartment. Once he found one, he put his trunk on the floor between the facing seats and seated himself, waiting for Hermione to arrive. He had Hedwig's cage shrunken and in his trunk as Hedwig opted to fly to Hogwarts, glad of the opportunity to stretch her wings a bit. Of course, it took five more minutes of bored waiting for Hermione to bang open the compartment door and seat herself across him. In came Dan Granger, carrying Hermione's trunk easily and depositing it on the racks above them. He shook hands with Harry and kissed Hermione on the forehead before he said goodbye and left the compartment.
"So Harry, what have you been up to this last month?" she asked him curiously.
"Oh, you really don't want to know." said Harry with a huff as he pushed the trunk before him and rested his feet over it.
"What is the matter with you? Why are you acting so strange?" asked Hermione, looking at his frown.
"It's just that… I don't know. This is the first time I'll be away from my family since I was born, and I really don't know… I think I'm already missing them." said Harry with a small sad smile. It was true he spent much time reading, but he also went flying with Sirius, and talked about Gamp's Laws with his mother, and baked and cooked with her, and raced in the huge back yard with his brother. Now he was going to miss them all, and he was going to have to sit still in classrooms in Hogwarts, and pretend not to know all the material they were covering, from first to seventh year.
"I think I know what you mean. I'm an only child, and my mum and dad always have spent their free time with me. I'll be honest, I never had any friends before you, and now I think I will miss them badly." she said softly. Harry looked up and saw her staring out the window with moist eyes.
"Hey now, we still have each other. We can miss our families together." said Harry comfortingly as he sat next to her and rubbed her back in small circles.
"Misery loves company, huh? Oh, Harry, what would I do without you?" asked Hermione as she took her hand in his. Harry smiled at the gesture, and threw the hand that was rubbing her over her shoulder, giving her a small sideways hug.
"I don't know, you'd probably be eaten by a troll or something." said Harry jokingly, remembering that this was the year that she would actually be attacked by a troll. A Dumbledore like twinkle settled in his eyes as Hermione roared with laughter. Oh he would be teasing her with this on Halloween, of that he was certain.
"Anyway, tell me about your progress with the books." said Harry, and Hermione immediately straightened up and assumed her no nonsense attitude.
"Well, I have finished with the Occlumency book, and the theory book, and the law book, and I'm half way through the spells book." she rattled off excitedly.
"Wow. You're a fast reader Hermione. But tell me, did you practice Occlumency?" asked Harry, with a tinge of hopefulness in his voice.
"Yes, of course. After all, you said that it would be very important, and that is the first book I actually read and memorized. I cleared my mind and organized it every evening and, since you said I shouldn't, I didn't put up any shields." she said with a smile. Harry grinned at her fast progress. He knew that Hermione would be good at the Mind Arts, and it was a relief to see that she lived up to that fact.
"Good, now, you need to build a specific kind of shield. It is a good defense that I think will work best for you. What you do is, you create a small sphere of the toughest material you can imagine deep within your mind. In it you should put the memories you want no one looking at, and you create a spherical mirror around it, and you start putting unimportant memories in concentric spheres around all of that. Remember, only the most important and secretive memories you have, and embarrassing moments don't count. You probably should put the memories where you mention or study Occlumency inside too, in order to conceal the very fact that you know Occlumency." said Harry smartly. Hermione looked closely at him and blinked.
"What?" Harry asked when he caught the confused look on her face.
"Erm… Harry, that method wasn't mentioned in the book." she said slowly.
"So what? I'm telling you, I think it's the best method, and I'm using that method myself." said Harry. Of course, after he started practicing Occlumency as a baby in this life, he actually had to put everything that happened in his past life inside the sphere, and didn't have enough memories to complete a single layer around it. But as the years went by, unimportant memories accumulated, and some he even falsified and created from scratch, so if someone looked inside his mind, a sphere of diamond was nowhere to be found. Of course, the small mirror effect he put on the surface helped a lot with that, but it wasn't strictly necessary.
"But if it wasn't in the book, then how do you know this method?" she asked with a frown. Harry just rolled his eyes and sighed.
"It's because I devised it myself." said Harry slowly. Hermione's eyes widened as she looked at him in disbelief.
"Your- yourself? But, how?" she asked in confusion and disbelief.
"Well, it was easy I guess. I just took the best elements from all the techniques and put them in one technique that would have any legillimens failing. You see, peripheral shields are all good and dandy, but once anyone finds the shields, they instantly know that you know Occlumency, and they instantly know that you have something to hide. And having no shields and having to push out the legillimens out of your mind each time he enters it is quite stressful and useless. So I guess I combined the two most popular techniques into one technique that has both their strengths and none of their weaknesses." said Harry. A flicker of understanding dawned in Hermione's eyes as she remembered the techniques that she read from the book Harry gave her.
"Oh! I get it. This way the invader cannot possibly find what he is looking for, having to dig deep down, and he will be exhausted by the time he finds the shield, if he ever finds it that is. If he doesn't find it, then he thinks you have no training in Occlumency at all, and if he finds it, he will be too exhausted to batter at it." she thought aloud.
"Touché." said Harry with a smile. There was a comfortable silence as Hermione read from the book of spells Harry gave her. Harry was staring through the window at the country scenery when a knock came from the door before it was immediately opened.
"Erm… Hi. Has anyone seen a toad?" asked a familiar voice and Harry craned his neck from the window to the door to see Neville Longbottom standing uncomfortably on the doorway.
"Hey mate. I'm Harry Potter and this is Hermione Granger. Come in and sit down." said Harry in a friendly voice. Neville moved from the door and sat across them, but he seemed in a hurry.
"Hi, I'm Neville Longbottom." he said hastily as he stretched his arm to Harry. Harry shook it, and Hermione put down her book, smiled and shook his hand as well.
"Have you seen a toad? I lost Trevor when l was lifting my trunk on the rack in my compartment, and I can't find him." said Neville, hysteria creeping up in his voice slowly.
"Well, why don't you summon it? I mean you know its name. Trevor, right?" asked Harry with a raised eyebrow.
"Summon him? But I don't know how." said Neville demurely. Harry just smiled and pulled an ordinary looking wand from his pocket. An ordinary looking wand that wasn't a wand at all, but a simple stick made of mahogany, made to look sleek and polished like a wand.
"It's an easy charm, I read about it in a book. All you do is concentrate on what you want to summon and focus on your need for it to be in your hand. They you incant 'Accio' and the name of what you want to summon. Try it." said Harry with a smile.
"But- but I don't know the wand movements, and I haven't done any magic before." said Neville demurely, but Harry just smiled and encouraged him. Neville pulled out his wand, and Harry noted that it was a different wand altogether, most probably because Frank Longbottom reclaimed his wand after he was healed by the mysterious Pei Ling.
"Accio Trevor!" Neville half shouted, and he was demurred to see that the spell had no effect what so ever.
"Give it a little time mate, I'm sure it worked. That spell has never failed me yet." said Harry. Just as he finished talking, the toad in question flew from the doorway and settled in Neville's lap.
"Wow! I did magic! Wait till Gran hears about this! And mum and dad!" said Neville excitedly, his eyes glazed at the prospect of his Grandmother and his parents being proud of him.
"Don't forget to inform her that you did a fourth year spell." said Harry with a smile, and saw Neville's mouth hang open.
"F- Fourth year?" he asked incredulously.
"Yeah, fourth year." said Harry, smile firmly plastered on his face.
"I- I better go write Gran right away!" Neville said before he jumped up as if someone pinched him on the bottom and left the compartment in a hurry, a firm grip on his wand in his right hand and a soft grip on a struggling Trevor in his left.
"He seemed genuinely surprised that he could actually cast a spell." said Hermione as she picked up her book once again.
"Yeah. He grew up without his parents, and it had left doubts in him. He doesn't believe in himself enough." said Harry with a sad expression on his face.
"How do you know all this?" asked Hermione suspiciously.
"Oh, my mother and his mother were friends- are friends, so she told me about them. They were under the influence of a dark spell too long, which broke their minds. Some years later, his father's mother, Augusta Longbottom, had them dismissed from the hospital and brought them home, where they mysteriously recovered. The healers are still pestering her for the treatment she gave them, but the old lady refuses to say a word." said Harry in way of explanation. Hermione's eyes were wide with horror as she listened to his story.
"Oh my god. That's- Harry, that's awful. Can you imagine how he felt when his parent's couldn't recognize him. And can you imagine their sadness when they realized that they lost nearly ten years from their son's life?" she said as tears started to form in her eyes. Harry whipped up a handkerchief from nowhere, a trick he was getting good at, and whipped her tears as she stared in empty face, her face a mask of horror.
"Well, the important thing is that there was someone who helped them, and they are perfectly fine now." said Harry as he wiped away her tears. Hermione took a big breath of air and shook her head.
"You're right. It is fortunate that someone devised a cure for their… condition. Whoever it was, it must have been a very smart person." said Hermione with a small smile. Harry just grinned inwardly.
"You could say that." he said neutrally, although he was quite proud of the fact that Hermione thought that he was a very smart person, even if she didn't know that she gave that compliment to him.
Soon, there was another knock on the door, and Harry feared that it was Malfoy for a split second, before he remembered that Malfoy didn't even have the manners to knock, despite his pureblood upbringing. The door was opened and the lady with the trolley looked at them before she cleared her throat.
"Anything off the cart dears?" she asked Harry, as it was tradition in the wizarding world to ask the male first, because, as in elite restaurants, usually the man paid for the dinner. Now, the Hogwarts Express wasn't an elite restaurant, but it was still filled with purebloods, and those purebloods expected to be treated cordially and with respect. Therefore the lady who pushed the cart was a Squib that was well versed in pureblood tradition and decorum. The board of Governors was not slouching when it came to their precious little purebloods. Bastards.
"Sure lady. Hermione, what will you have?" asked Harry as he put a hand on the page she was reading from. Hermione had the tendency to keep reading and pay little attention to what was going on around her.
"Erm- I think I'll pass, Harry." said Hermione as she looked at the high sugar sweets on the trolley.
"Nonsense. Every brilliant mind has some level of addiction to good sweets, and I hear that the headmaster is particularly obsessed with lemon drops. I for instance, have a certain love for cauldron cakes." said Harry as he grabbed two handfuls of the cakes and placed them in the seat next to his.
"And of course, experimenting with Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans is always fun." he said as he took two packages of the infamous beans and placed them next to the cauldron cakes.
"Come on now Hermione. It's a rule. You want to be a brilliant witch; you have to have addiction to some type of sweet dessert. Pick your poison." said Harry firmly, before Hermione sighed and stood up to look at all the sweets.
"Well, I don't know. I haven't tasted any of these." said Hermione uncertainly, and Harry just grinned.
"It's settled then. She'll have three of everything except cauldron cakes and Every Flavor Beans. My treat" said Harry and delighted in watching Hermione's eyes widen comically as the trolley lady started systematically removing three of each type of sweat and give it to Harry. In the end, Harry had to start a second pile of sweets, because the seat with the cauldron cakes got full.
"Alright, now… carry the two… add three, plus nineteen, plus twenty five, carry the thirteen, times three… two galleons, sixteen sickles and three knuts." said the lady as Harry started to dig in his pouch, and by the time he handed the money, he realized that the pouch was half empty. Good thing Sirius pitched in with his secret moneybag, otherwise, he would have burned the money he had in the first two days. He had forgotten how to spare the money, since his seventeenth birthday from his past life gave him access to a huge vault filled to the brim that he could never possibly empty, or even spend half of the money within. Hermione huffed as the trolley squib- funny how everybody called her the trolley witch- closed the door.
"Harry, how in the world are we going to eat this?" asked Hermione, looking dazedly at all the candy on the seats opposite of them.
"Well, you don't have to eat it all at once. I figure we spare some for Hogwarts. We're not allowed to go to Hogsmead until our second year, so these will have to last us for the rest of the year." he said as he took a cauldron cake and opened it reverently. He opened his mouth as wide as it would go and took a huge bite off the cake, taking almost half of the cake in his mouth.
"Mmm, bwiff." he said with his eyes closed as he chewed on the chocolate coated blueberry cake.
"You're incorrigible, you know that?" asked Hermione as she took a curious wand looking sweet and examined it. Harry nodded toward her, and she huffed before she threw the wand back into the pile of sweats.
"My parents are dentists Harry. I'm not allowed to eat sweats, as it causes cavities, and even paradenthosis." said Hermione with a shake of her head as she remembered the speeches her parents gave her.
"Yah, that's why I use Willberg's Wizarding Toothpaste, guaranteed to keep your teeth strong, white and shiny under any conditions until the age of one hundred and forty." said Harry and grinned, showing off his pearly white and straight teeth. Hermione's eyes widened as she looked at his teeth, back at the candy, and back at his teeth again. She sighed in resignation before she picked up the strange wand and unwrapped it. She took a bite and immediately spat it out.
"Yuck. That's disgusting." she said, her face scrunched up in disgust.
"Licorice wands. Not your cup of tea, I presume?" asked Harry good naturedly. After three types of candy, and some halfhearted nods and disgusted spitting, Hermione took a bite from a chocolate frog and sighed.
"Chocolate frogs I gather?" asked Harry, and Hermione just nodded as she took another bite and closed her eyelids. Harry grinned, now knowing what type of candy to give her on Valentine's Day. He grabbed another cauldron cake and put his feet on his trunk, sighing in bliss as he once again bit into the cauldron cake.
Harry continued staring out of the window and eating a few more cauldron cakes, and soon enough it got dark and they were told through the intercom to change in their robes. Harry shrugged before he took his coat off and threw on his Hogwarts robe.
Soon enough they were sitting in the boats on the lake and they heard Hargrid's infamous below of 'FORWARD!!!', at which the boats lurched, unsurprisingly, forward. He heard a sharp intake of breath as Hermione looked at the castle, and he saw her face as it shined in happiness at her first sight of the magnificent castle, which gave quite an impressive sight with all its torches and candles lit in the darkness.
They were soon deposited into the hands of the experienced Professor McGonagall, who gave them her usual speech, at least, the usual speech that Harry knew, and soon enough they were called one by one to be sorted. He smiled as he heard what was undoubtedly Ron Weasley shake in fear as he told other two terrified student's that they had to battle a troll. Hearing their conversation almost made him miss Hermione's call to the stool of fate, as Harry liked to call the wooden tri-legged stool they were sorted on.
"Hermione Granger!" Harry heard McGonagall yell over the last vestiges of the cheering that the Gryffindors gave to one of their new first years. He saw Hermione resolutely straighten up and walk between the long tables until she was seated on the stool and had the Sorting Hat on her head. There was a long pause until the hat shouted "Ravenclaw!" and a brief scatter of applause from the upper years. Harry smiled at Hermione as she removed the hat from her head and seated herself on the table with the rest of the Ravenclaws.
"Harry Potter!" came McGonagall's voice, and soon enough, he was walking slowly between the tables, his mind working in a furious pace. He seated himself on the stool and the Hat was lowered to his head, until the darned thing covered his eyes.
"Hm, well, well. Welcome to Hogwarts ,young Mister Potter, or should I say, welcome back Potter, you old fart. Two hundred years not enough for ye?" the hat asked mockingly, and Harry could almost hear himself sigh.
"Gordon, the past is the past, and since only I remain to remember it, it is a different universe altogether. Shall we focus on the here and now? Now give me something to work with." said Harry with total calmness, even in his mental voice, which still sounded like the deep one he had back in his old body.
"Well, now you'll know why I was to sort student's when they were eleven, not two hundred and eleven. Do you always have to make my life difficult?" the hat asked in a whiny tone, and Harry nearly chuckled.
"Now now Gordon. I don't want my sorting to turn into a farce. Just give me something to work with. You have been doing this for almost a thousand years. It's probably very easy by now. Now, which house?" asked Harry with a tone of urgency.
"Well, since you're in such a hurry… Let's see. Gryffindor is a pretty good shot, Slytherin will have you as it's trophy no doubt, Ravenclaw is surely an option, and Hufflepuff… my such strong devotion to Albus, the old man would have a stroke if he knew that the next Merlin was practically worshipping him." the hat said with a soft chuckle.
"He will know soon enough. For now, Ravenclaw will do." thought Harry, and the hat nearly choked on its laughter.
"Oh, Mister Potter. So devoted you are to Hermione that Hufflepuff seems more of an option than any of the other houses." said the Hat in a curious voice.
"Don't start this, you're not going to like it. Hufflepuff is a place for friendly people, hard workers. I am a hard worker, but only when it comes to knowledge. And I have, currently, only one friend that I'm not related to by blood." said Harry evenly. The hat laughed again.
"Oh, playing head games with you seemed to be a delight of mine even in your 'old time'. But, you are trying to manipulate me Mister Potter, surely Slytherin is the House for you." said the Hat slyly. Harry could only sigh.
"Gordon, for the love of Hogwarts, not again! Yes, I am cunning, but I have no ambitions or even delusions of gaining power what so ever. And my cunning is merely a byproduct of my intelligence, which is yet another reason to sort me in Ravenclaw. Besides, if I wanted to manipulate you, I wouldn't spend so much time on this stool playing head games with you, looking suspicious to old Albus, but take control over you and have your mouth shout Ravenclaw. Yet I didn't. I'm not controlling or manipulating you, I'm simply trying to make you see reason." Harry's voice was laden with frustration. The hat only chuckled in response, and it was really getting on Harry's nerves, short as they were.
"True, true Mister Potter. But yet, to have such courage to stab yourself to death with a blade, surely you are a Gryffindor deep within." said the hat, a smile creeping up to its face. Harry was ready to grab the hat and rip it in two, but he took a deep breath and used Occlumency to calm himself.
"Perhaps, a long time ago, when I was young and foolish. Nowadays, before I jump from the frying pan into the fire, I'm intelligent and experienced enough to calculate the odds. Even if it seems like flying off the handle, calculations and decisions are made in split seconds. And the odds are with me all the time. As for stabbing myself with the sword, it was a calculated risk, that, once calculated, ceased to be one. After all, true bravery is to do what you think is right when you are in fear despite the fear, and I haven't been afraid for a long, long time. I knew what the two possible outcomes my self-inflicted death by that sword would be, and I was afraid by none of them. I haven't done a deed worthy of a Gryffindor in quite some time. And now, my dear friend, there is only one option left for me, unless there exists secret and hidden fifth house for the oddballs such as me to sort me in, the percentage of probability of which, when calculated and multiplied by the lack of an available teacher with the required oddball traits to act as a head of the aforementioned theoretical house, is small enough to be unconditionally discarded as an unrealistic option." said Harry, his voice a tad triumphant.
"Oh, alright you old fart. This is twice that you have beaten me in my own game. As such I think you just earned yourself a place in Ravenclaw. Suit yourself." grumbled the hat before it shouted to the Great Hall "Ravenclaw!" with a bit of a disappointment in its voice.
"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure. See you around Gordon." thought Harry with a grin just before the hat was ripped off his head by a flustered McGonagall. The entire Great Hall was staring at him, and Hermione's eyes were as inquisitive as always. He grinned at her before he stood up from the chair.
"What? No applause?" asked Harry in fake bewilderment, and suddenly Flitwick remembered that his house had gained another student and began clapping. A few of the older students that snapped back to reality clapped along with him, but his welcoming was weak at best. No 'we got Potter' chants, no banging on the table, just wide eyed faces staring at him. He scurried down and sat next to Hermione, the only student decent enough not to stare at him with her mouth open.
"Harry, what was that all about?" asked Hermione, already suspicious of him.
"How long did I take?" asked Harry eagerly, as if the sorting was a game, and cunningly using a question to distract her.
"Nearly ten minutes. I think you broke the record of the longest Sorting ever. You will probably be in the newspaper tomorrow." said Hermione, slightly affronted.
"Aye, fair lady, 'tis truly unfortunate; truly unfortunate that my name shall be wasted and slandered on those grey pages, while unanimated wizards and witches gossip and theorize about the supposed enigma I represent." said Harry mournfully. He didn't want to be in the newspapers. He knew how reporters could lie and bite.
"Harry, it's not a game. Why did the hat take so long?" she asked, already exasperated.
"I don't know. It seemed so intent to examine my mind, and I think that it was curious. It said that I was the most intelligent person in the room, and so we started to play a head game. I won, of course." said Harry triumphantly as he heard Zabini being sorted into Slytherin. Nothing new there.
"But Harry-" said Hermione, before she was interrupted by a finger on her lips. She quickly reddened with anger and was about to reprimand Harry for interrupting her, when she saw that the Headmaster was standing up and starting with a speech.
"I'm sure, with the unexpected length of the sorting," and here he looked curiously at Harry, "that your stomachs are grumbling for food already. So, I have only four words to say. Nitwit, Oddment, Blubber, Tweak." the old wizard said before he clapped his hands once. Harry grinned as he flicked a finger under the table at the same time the headmaster clapped. A wind picked up around the tables, but other than that, nothing happened. Harry face was red, and he wasn't breathing as he gazed at the bewildered face of the old Headmaster and his past mentor. He almost cracked a rib at the funny looks the teachers were giving the confused and bewildered Headmaster, and the disappointed looks of the students, especially the males in Gryffindor, whose mood and life depended on food.
"Well, that has surely never happened before. Let me try again. Nitwit, Oddment, Blubber, Tweak!" he said again, his voice louder and more clear this time with a commanding quality in it. He considered interfering with the link the Great Hall had with the kitchens again, but he wasn't sure if he could take the hilarity for a second time, so he sat back and allowed the food to appear. After all, he was just as hungry as anyone else.
The feast began in full swing, and Harry ate as much as he could without overeating, and even leaving place for that treacle tart dessert, which felt weird when he knew that it reminded him of Hermione's hair. Wizards were mental. But then again, who was Ron in love with? The boy ate everything in sight for as long as Harry had known him. Either the redhead was an insatiable pig, or he had the power the Dark Lord knew not, love, in far greater quantities than Harry ever did. Probably the former.
He smiled as he finished his treacle tart and got up with the schedule, which was deposited next to him at some point during the meal, firmly in his hand as he slowly started the long trek up to Ravenclaw tower. He would sleep like a baby tonight.
A/N: Well, I was always uncomfortable with welcoming feasts and such. I did my best. Flame me if you dare!!! If you don't dare, leave a nice REVIEW!!!