Chapter 4: A Weasel in the Snake Pit
"Weasley, Ronald," said boy was called and made his way towards the stern professor. He just knew she would make him work. He hated working for things. Ron sat down on the stool, eagerly waiting to shortly join his brothers at the Gryffindor table. And Harry Potter of course, his soon-to-be best friend.
"Hmm, another Weasley. Interesting…" he heard the voice of the hat in his mind.
"Yeah yeah, don't remind me. Just put me in Gryffindor and I'll be out of here," he admonished the stupid rag. Yes, another Weasley was at Hogwarts. In this Weasley's opinion, the best Weasley to date.
"Oh, that is quite the ambition I see there, the 'best Weasley to date', huh. Befriend Harry Potter so you'll be somebody, very cunning. Alas, I don't think that will help you come into your own." The hat deliberated for a while before he continued, "You know, Albus wanted me to place you with Gryffindor, but that just seems wrong now, doesn't it."
"It's exactly right, you bloody rag. Gryffindor is the best house and I deserve the best," Ronald stated with conviction, completely missing the mental frown he could so easily have picked up from the hat.
"How rude. Oh, this sense of entitlement, cunning, ambition. You'll enjoy your time here, boy," the hat thought back sarcastically enough even Ronald 'barely-enough-emotions-for-a-tea-spoon' could pick up on it. Did this stupid piece of cloth not know who he was, who his family was?
"SLYTHERIN!" the hat exclaimed and Ron nearly missed it, distracted as he was with his inner ranting.
OOOOOOOO
Harry sat there at the Gryffindor table a little dumbfounded while the hat's words were still echoing through the great hall.
"SLYTHERIN!"
It seemed like this time around, the hat had its own ideas about the boy's character. On Ronald's face, he could see the beginnings of a Weasley temper tantrum and for the first time that he could remember, Harry was looking forward to it; he was not disappointed.
"WHAT!" Ronald shouted, tearing the hat off his head. "You stupid rag, I'm no BLOODY SNAKE!"
And just like that, Ronald Weasley had managed to lose the minimal respect he had in his new house, as much was obvious. The decal and trim on his robes already showed his house colours, but apparently he had other ideas about that.
"I demand to be resorted!" he said bluntly, looking at both the hat and McGonagall, only to receive no reaction from the former and a distasteful sneer from the latter.
"Mr. Weasley, rein in your temper, you will not speak to me with such disrespect! Detention, all through the week," she reprimanded the still rebellious student. "As for your sorting, once you have been given knowledge of your house, the sorting is irrevocable and unchangeable. You will either be a Slytherin or not at Hogwarts at all," she continued and stared down the still mutinous looking boy. "Have I made myself clear?" After receiving a nod that looked everything but repentant he shuffled towards the Slytherin table in total silence.
That was certainly new and Harry could not shake the feeling the hat had seen something in Harry and Hermione's memories that made this decision easier for him. Ron had never exactly seemed cunning before, but if you were really cunning, would you let people know that you are? The truly cunning thing to do would be to hide it and at least Ronald's strategic mind was there to see whenever he revelled in soundly beating someone in chess. Winning never got boring for the envious boy, especially against Harry. In retrospect, Harry could see this now. It was a way for Ronald to feel superior and another reason to be cautious around him.
The sorting continued and then ended with "Zabini, Blaise" once again sorted into Slytherin to applause from the whole school unlike any Slytherin had heard in a while. It seemed they could forget the house rivalries when confronted with something as distasteful as one Ronald Weasley.
Professor McGonagall made off with the hat and the stool, then the headmaster said something weird and then the feast could finally begin. Harry was a growing boy, after all; a growing boy who had just spent time with the Dursleys, nonetheless. He looked at Hermione who gave him an expression that said, "We'll talk later," and let her eyes flicker over to Neville. Harry understood; they had talked about this after all.
"Hi, I'm Harry Potter. You're Neville, right? Hermione met you on the train and said you were alright," he needlessly introduced himself to the boy sitting next to him. Said boy gaped a little and nodded eagerly.
"Yes I am. Nice to meet you, Harry," Neville greeted back. During all of this, Neville's eyes never once gravitated towards Harry's scar. Even if he had not known Neville from the previous timeline, this would have made an immediate and very positive first impression.
"I'm sorry I bailed out on you, Neville. I just found Harry on the train and we knew each other. I sat with him and we forgot the time. Did you find your toad?" Hermione piped up. Harry knew her well enough to know she would feel guilty for abandoning Neville in his search, even though it was for a very, very good reason.
"Y-Yeah," Neville managed to stutter, seemingly overawed with the kindness shown to him. He had told Harry the last time around that he had been incredibly nervous coming to Hogwarts, what with not being sure whether he was a real wizard or not. His grandmother with her insistence on him using his father's wand and her constant criticizing was no help either. And so they passed the time of the meal talking with Neville, 'meeting' the other first years and Sir Nicholas and generally having a good time. It was amazing how approachable they all were without Ronald around to ask everyone for their blood-status.
"And maybe with a little confidence boost for Hermione and me, too. She sure tends to be a bit brusque when self-conscious. Me, I'm just not very outgoing," Harry mused.
A few seats further, he could see Percy fuming about one of two things alternately, he guessed: Ron's inability to get sorted in the right house and the hat's inability to sort him into the right house. It was rather amusing to watch his glares shift from the Slytherin table to the head table and back to the Slytherins. He would bet there would be a Howler headed towards Hogwarts very soon; whether it would be for Ronald or the teachers, who knew.
Fully stuffed with a second helping of everything including dessert, Harry and Hermione were now waiting for Dumbledore's vaunted welcome speech. They did not have to wait long, for soon the venerable old headmaster rose from his throne to speak to the masses. In the past/future this had always impressed the hell out of Harry, but now, having learnt more about Dumbledore and his past it just struck him as a little suspicious for a headmaster to use the imagery of a ruler, a king.
"Ahem - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."
This time Harry had no problem coming up with ideas why Dumbledore would look at the Weasley twins as he pronounced this. Still, the abject lack of sufficient disciplinary action when the perpetrators were known was a little disconcerting. Harry had no qualms to admit he had broken his fair share of rules during his first stint at Hogwarts, but most of the time he had had a genuine reason. At least what he thought was a genuine reason.
"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
And there it was: the bait. Looking back with a little more distance, it really was rather obvious. Barmy as Dumbledore was from time to time, he would never entrust the safety of something as precious as the Philosopher's stone to a few traps that could be overcome by a group of first years. Not with means like the Fidelius charm at hand. Or maybe he would, in his arrogance believing Voldemort could never break the mirror's enchantment.
"That leaves only one conclusion for why the traps were there, you know?" he remembered Hermione's voice from their discussion on the train. "It's bait either for Voldemort or for you, possibly both. Don't you think it is a bit convenient that the year you return to Hogwarts Voldemort and a Philosopher's Stone should both be there?"
It was no nice conclusion, Harry knew as much, but neither he nor Hermione had been able to reach another. At this point, the only thing that could make the whole story any more foolish was, if there actually were a stone involved.
Before they knew it they were herded to the common room by Percy and the fifth year girl prefect and soon the two found themselves in 'their'seats by the fireplace, where Harry surprised Hermione with a wide grin.
"Hermione, I looked at the back of Quirrell's head like five times and my scar didn't hurt once. You know what that means?" he asked merrily.
The crushing Hermione-hug was enough to answer that question.
OOOOOOOO
Ronald Weasley's evening was progressing far less nicely. With his family being anything but respected, a good portion of Slytherin house was already against him. Those members that were not particularly interested in pureblood supremacy or prepared to give him a chance despite his family being poor blood-traitors just because he was a pureblood he had managed to alienate with his dirty snake comment. The glares he received all along the way to the common room were hostile in the least.
Said new Slytherin though, could not find any fault with himself, he was sure about that. The hat had simply acted out of spite or as a particularly cruel prank. They would all see what a courageous Gryffindor he was and McGonagall would beg him to become a Gryffindor. Then he would become Harry Potter's best friend, just like it should be. Not that he really had any plan on how to succeed with that idea; he assumed it would just happen. After all, how could people not see how great he was?
They had just been told the password to the common room (ambitio, it was Latin or something) and ambled into the common room when the door opened again and a rather glum looking, greasy-haired man in billowing black robes entered. The older students all stood alert and the first years scrambled to do the same. All of them, except one.
"Mr. Weasley, I see you lack attention and adaptability," he said with a perpetual sneer at the offending redhead. "I already had my doubts about a Weasley in my house; usually I am spared from that disgrace."
Ron was getting seriously pissed off now. How dare this overgrown bat ridicule his family?
"Wait till my mother hears of this," he thought, already with pleasant images of a cowed Snape apologizing to him before his mind's eye.
"Get yourself under control, you dunderhead and assume some posture worthy of this noble house," he was now barked at by Snape, joined with snickering from the listening Slytherins.
No, Ronald Weasley's evening was definitely not going well and it was about to get worse. He was meeting his new dorm-mates.
OOOOOOOO
Harry awoke in his bed in the Gryffindor dorm for the first time in what to him amounted to about a year. Of course it was not really his bed it was not even his dorm. Being one student short compared to the last time, the first year boys were put into a different dorm room. Each of them now had a normal bed in a separate alcove, while the centre of the room was occupied by one single large table with a number of straight-backed chairs. The chairs looked suspiciously like the ones McGonagall always created. It would make for a great place to do homework.
Following his usual morning rituals he made his way down to the common room where he met Hermione, already buried in a book.
"Good morning," he greeted her, immediately eliciting a sunny smile. "Might I ask why you're reading first year text books? You could easily take your NEWTs now," he continued, whispering into her ear, trying to ignore the warm feeling coursing to him at the close contact.
"Well of course, it wouldn't do to appear too advanced now, would it? We have to be able to pretend we're first years. Knowledgeable first years maybe, but still first years," came the whispered reply, again cause for a little shiver with Harry.
"You're right. But there's no chance I will ever take Divination again, I hate prophecies and Trelawney gives me the creeps," he answered, receiving an eager nod in response. "Anyway, breakfast?"
Without even an answer, at least verbally, Harry felt himself being dragged towards the portrait hole. Hell, even repeating her complete time in school seemed to have Hermione very motivated to learn.
"So, what are we gonna do now? I mean, we talked about the big stuff, but what about the details. How do we evade suspicion and so-forth?" Harry asked just as they were cutting through a secret corridor to get to the Great Hall faster. "How do we explain that we know the secret passages, for example?"
"Good point, so no more secret passages for at least a while," Hermione conceded. "This is going to be hard, I'm so used to cutting short."
"I know," Harry chuckled back.
Still amused, the two entered the rather empty Great Hall. Despite the early hour, Professor McGonagall was already there handing out time-tables. When she saw her two new Gryffindors her features were graced by one of her small, far-in-between smiles. It seemed she approved of early risers. Not that Harry had ever been anything other than that; he just hadn't used that time properly before now.
"Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger, trust you have found everything quite well?" she greeted them both in her thick Scottish brogue.
"Thanks, Professor. And yes, we only got lost once," Hermione reported in such striking similarity to the actual eleven year old Hermione it was mind boggling.
"Very well, these are your timetables. Please see to it that you arrive on time."
With that, she handed out their timetables and went along to some of the other still sparse Gryffindors.
OOOOOOOO
Hermione, Harry and Neville, the two had taken the boy under their wing lest he get lost too badly, were sitting in Professor McGonagall's transfiguration classroom, amusedly eyeing the tabby cat with the square markings sitting on the professor's table.
They had all made an early appearance so as not to forgo the experience of seeing the inevitable late-comers running into the animagus trap. Just about everyone was there, with only one person notably absent and said person had red hair.
The moment the lesson was to begin McGonagall, to astonished gasps from about one third of the class, jumped from her table, transforming into her human form mid-jump.
"Good morning class. Before we do anything, I expect you to copy down the safety instructions on the first pages of your books while we wait for stragglers. Do I make myself clear?" Her gaze made it quite clear she expected to be obeyed. Quickly, she resumed her cat form and mad herself comfortable on her desk.
Ten minutes later, the class was busily scratching away with their quills and the professor, cat eyes ever watchfully patrolling, when a certain redhead wheezed his way into the classroom.
"Uuh, bloody lucky. Can you imagine what old McGonagall would have said if I'd been here after her?" he proclaimed loudly and at no one in particular, eliciting a few pained looks from some of the other Slytherins at his complete lack of anything even remotely resembling subtlety. His dumb grin vanished immediately as the cat on the desk set for a jump and transformed into the very professor he had just called old while grinning like mad.
Hermione leant closer to Harry so as not to be heard above the stern reprimand their 'old' professor was currently giving Ronald. "I don't know what I was thinking kissing Ronald. Our first few years I just found him irritating, barely tolerated him because he was your friend. No idea what came over me…" she whispered almost angrily.
This had Harry thinking again about one of the items Death had talked to him about, namely love potions. Was it possible Hermione had actually been drugged? And if yes, by whom?
"Well, that is rather easy to say. Either Ron or Mrs. Weasley, I know she is not above using a love potion, said so herself. And what about Ginny…" Harry mused. The whole rest of the lesson Harry could not help but continue to do so. In the end, he reached a rather disturbing conclusion.
He and Hermione were now sitting in the room of requirement at Harry's request. This time it was a nice cosy living room with only a couch, a big, fluffy rug and a fireplace. Harry drew a deep breath to steel his resolve, before he began speaking, his voice more confident than he felt.
"Hermione, I think I've been raped. And I think it's at least been tried with you as well."
OOOOOOOO
AN: Yeah, I know, dropping a bombshell like that at the end of a chapter is not the nice thing to do, but I just love doing it, so suck it up.
Now, you might wonder what I'm alluding to here, of course it is love potions. While in canon they are treated a little haphazardly (I mean a joke-shop selling them, really?) these potions are nothing but rape in a bottle. I have no idea why Rowling treated the issue like she did, but I myself find it to be quite disturbing that a mother should tell her daughter and said daughter's friend about how she used a love potion, even if it was as a young girl. Maybe it seemed such a funny subject because in canon the victims were all male, I'll leave you to decide that (remember, it has been some time since these books have been written).
But enough warbling about ethical stuff and the moral shortcomings of the wizarding world, I hope you enjoyed chapter four. If you did, or have constructive criticism, please let me know in a review, or even a PM if you don't want everybody to see it but also want to give me the possibility to answer.
Hint: I will never answer to a review in an AN. But maybe you'll find something in the story that reminds you of your suggestions. If so, don't fret because you're not mentioned, of course you have my gratitude; I just don't have the patience to sift through all the reviews again to look up who came up with a suggestion.
alexandertheII
