Story Title: Harry Potter and the Stone of Dreams
Chapter Title: Chapter Three: By Luck or Judgement
Author: Bansera
Beta: Myself
Disclaimer: If you recognise it, it's probably JKRs. If you don't, it's probably mine. There is a comment in Harry's observations of Hufflepuff which is unashamedly borrowed for the pilot episode of Being Human, that does not belong to me either. Oh and actually whilst re-reading I came across a slightly FotR moment, but blink and you'll miss it.
A/N: This is quite important, to all those who are worried about the warned slash and how it might relate to Harry... I already have several possible pairings and a few probable pairings, and it is very likely that Harry will end up in a slash relationship. Now for those of you who now no longer want anything to do with this story... well that is your choice, you are free to stop reading, I can't control you. However, as I have said previously relationships aren't going to come into the story until they are much older, so I hope that you will stick with the story at least for this first one. Even when the relationships do come into the story more, I'm not really one for writing explicit love scenes (usually) so... Also, bear in mind there may be relationships of older characters mentioned earlier in the storyline than the younger characters (if that makes any sense at all).
It has been mentioned that Harry is being treated, at times, far older than his years. My beta was the one that originally pointed this out, but once I'd explained my reasoning to her she was more than happy to accept it. And believe me when I say she wouldn't let me get away with it without a good reason. So please trust us, stick with the story and enjoy! (A/N2: This comment is in response to comments made before I rewrote the previous chapters. Since then, some things have been edited slightly, so perhaps this isn't quite relevant, I've left it in just in case, though!)
Chapter Three: By Luck or Judgement
The large door swung open immediately, revealing a rather stern-looking witch wearing emerald-green robes and with her hair in a tight bun.
"Thank you Hagrid. I will take the first years from here."
"Aye, Professor McGonagall."
The Professor pulled the door wide open, revealing an enormous entrance hall that Harry noticed could likely fit the Dursley's house several times. Flaming torches lit the stone walls, the ceiling was far too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase opposite them led to the upper floors.
McGonagall led the students across the flagstone floor. They passed a door behind which could be heard the drone of many voices, obviously the rest of the school was in there. The Professor took them into an antechamber close by and turned to address them.
"Welcome to Hogwarts." She said, with what could almost be called a hint of a smile. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before this you will be sorted into your houses. Your house will be your family whilst at Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend time in your house common room.
"The four houses are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history, and each is as worthy as the other. Whilst at Hogwarts your triumphs will own your house points, while any rule breaking will lose points. At the end of the year the house with the most points will receive the House Cup. A great honour.
"I hope that each of you will be a credit to whichever house is lucky enough to have you join. The Sorting will take place in a few minutes. I suggest you all take a moment to smarten yourselves." Her eyes lingered on a smudge on Ron's nose, and Neville's cloak which was fastened under his left ear, then she left the room.
"How do they sort us?" Harry asked, looking at Ron. Ron merely shrugged, apparently far too nervous to speak. Harry sympathized with him and turned away, helping Neville with his cloak whilst Ron recuperated. No-one else was talking very much, except for Hermione Granger who was whispering rapidly about all the spells she had learnt and wondering which she might need.
Suddenly several people at the back of the group screamed. Harry jumped, and spun to face the commotion. He gasped, as did the people around him. There, coming through the walls, were a group of pearly white, transparent people. They seemed to be arguing about someone called "Peeves" and took a moment to notice the first years. When they did they smiled kindly and made conversation until McGonagall re-entered, sharply instructing the students to follow her.
Feeling as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into a line behind a boy with sandy hair, with Ron behind him. They walked out of the chamber, across the hall, and through the door they had passed earlier.
Many of those with him gasped as they entered the hall. It was an awe inspiring place; candles floated in their hundreds, twinkling gold, above four long tables. Each table was crowded with black-robed students, splashes of red, yellow, blue and green dashed down each table. All the students were whispering amongst each other as they watched the new first years walk towards a fifth table, the Head Table, at which all the teachers were sat.
"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside." Harry heard Hermione whisper. He knew she was referring to the ceiling, he too had read Hogwarts: A History that past summer. And yet the descriptions from the book were nothing compared to the view that greeted him when he turned his eyes skyward. Above him was a deep purple-black sky, studded with twinkling stars; it seemed as though tendrils of heaven curled through the roof of the room and entwined it in its magic.
Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. Atop of this stool she placed a rather tattered old hat which – Harry imagined – would give Aunt Petunia palpitations if she saw it near her house.
Suddenly a tear in the hat opened, making Harry start, and the hat began to sing:
"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you can see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor
Where dwell the brave of heart,
Their daring, nerve and chivalry
Set Gryffindor apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hand (though I have none)
For I'm a thinking cap!"
The hall burst into applause as the hat finished. It bowed to all four tables before becoming quite still again.
Harry looked at each of the tables before him. The students on the far left table wore red edges on their robes, the Weasley's amongst them, which told Harry it was the Gryffindor table.
Next to them were the students in blue edged robes, most of whom were watching the new first years with curiosity, an aura of wiseness rose of the table, obviously these were the ready minded Ravenclaws.
The third table consisted of many happily smiling faces in yellow edged robes. They gave the impression that they would love to be bouncing around and hugging people. Hufflepuffs, he assumed, as he doubted Slytherins would have such a happy-go-lucky feeling to them. And these students did seem to give him the impression of spending their spare time making things with safety scissors and glitter.
The last table had a heavy stillness around it, a strong contrast to the jolliness of Hufflepuff. These, the Slytherins, wore green edged robes. All sat perfectly upright, their faces a blank mask although Harry could sense and attentiveness coming from them. Something about them suggested that they weren't as uptight as they appeared, that it was simply a façade the portrayed to the rest of the world.
Harry's attention moved away from his analysis of the houses as McGonagall moved forwards and began reading names from a scroll. As each person was called they made their way to the stool and placed the hat on their heads. Some sat for mere seconds, whilst others were there much longer. The hat would then announce the house into which the student would be placed.
Harry stifled a snicker as Ron groaned at Hermione being sorted into Gryffindor. Neville too was sorted into the Lion's den, and Harry smiled as Neville looked back at him before following Hermione's path to the table.
Harry watched intently as Draco sat on the stool with the hat on his head. Harry was somewhat surprised by the length of time it took Draco to be sorted, it was by no means the longest time taken, but as Draco had been so adamant that he would be joining Slytherin Harry had expected him to be placed there instantaneously.
When it came to Harry's turn to be sorted the hall fell silent as his name was called. Harry glanced nervously at Draco for a split second, before shifting his gaze to Fred Weasley, who smiled reassuringly and gave him a thumbs up as the hat fell across his eyes.
"Ah, Harry Potter." A small voice inside his head said. "I wondered when I would be meeting you. It is a pleasure to have the privilege of Sorting you."
"The privilege is all mine." Harry replied mentally with no little nervousness, causing the hat to chuckle.
"Why, aren't you an interesting one. And your mind! It has been long since I've known a mind like this! I must say I feel you belong not in any single house here!"
Harry tensed at that. He didn't belong? Did that mean they would send him back to the Dursley's?
"Apologies. That was not what I meant exactly." The Hat said, at Harry's response. "Allow me to explain myself.
"If we look at your experiences of even only today, perhaps you will understand better. When you saw your friend Draco on the train it took a lot of Slytherin cunning to act as though you could not stand him. It also took a lot of Hufflepuff loyalty to both of your new friends to stand between them and prevent both from fighting.
"Your intriguing powers of magic sensing are a gift that will greatly increase your knowledge, thus giving you a Ravenclaw side, which is compounded by your thirst for knowledge, although that also ties into your Slytherin side.
"That leaves your parent's house. The house where everyone expects you to be. And my wouldn't that suit you, so much courage, so much bravery! And so now you understand my predicament. I fear I cannot place you in one single house for fear of quashing the breadth of your mind. But I cannot simply place you in 'Hogwarts', houseless, for to do such a thing would be to reveal your uniqueness and, I fear, would cause far too much trouble…
"However, I feel I can trust you to develop the house traits of all the houses not simply the one in which I place you. So, to choose a house!
"Obviously Slytherin is not a choice we can make if we are to maintain the pretence of your hatred for them. I think you would do best placed with your newly made friends… though I do hope you will befriend all the houses!" The Hat admonished. "Anyhow, I think I can safely say I'm going to put you in GRYFFINDOR."
Harry knew the Hat had said the last word out loud, and began to remove the Hat when the voice returned momentarily.
"I do hope you will visit me, young Mr Potter, your mind is far more interesting than sitting around in a cupboard all year!"
Harry laughed aloud and removed the hat, to be greeted by strange looks from the rest of the school. He placed the Hat back on the stool, nodded at the students, and headed to the Gryffindor table, which instantly erupted into loud cheering.
Fred and George jumped up at his arrival and promptly started bowing frantically. Fred then grabbed Harry in a hug.
"Nice of you to join us, your highness." He laughed cheekily, much to the amusement of most of the rest of the Gryffindors. "We need to talk later I think." He added under his breath.
Harry nodded. "Thanks." He said, squeezing Fred as his trembling nervousness dissipated. It was obvious that Fred had seen his shakiness, and was simply helping the younger boy to remain upright.
Fred smiled, and George grabbed Harry's arm propelling him away. "Go sit with your fellow firsties, little monster. I think one of them rather likes you!" George grinned. Harry smirked in reply and sat beside Neville.
"Thank you." McGonagall said, sounding disapproving, although a smile played about her lips.
Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors quited down at that, and sat semi-calmly to watch the last of the sorting. Harry joined in the cheering as each Gryffindor was sorted, although he also clapped politely when a student was sorted into any of the other houses, even the Slytherins, which though suprising to the others at first, was soon supported by them. His cheering was extra loud when a very nervous Ron was sorted into Gryffindor. He beckoned the red head into the seat beside him and they shared a happy grin.
As the sorting finished Harry heard Ron's stomach grumbling beside him, and realised just how hungry he himself was. At that moment the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, stood and smiled happily at the students assembled before him.
"Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!" He opened his arms in an encompassing gesture. "Before we begin our banquet I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!
"Thank you."
He sat back down. Everyone clapped and cheered. Harry cocked his head.
"Is he a bit mad?" He asked Percy somewhat uncertainly.
"Mad?" Percy replied airily. "He's a genius! But yes, he is a bit mad. Potatoes?"
Harry blinked. Where had been empty plates there were now mounds of food. Piles of steak, roast beef, pork, chicken, rabbit and lamb, even nut roast for the vegetarians. There were mountains of potatoes – mashed, boiled, roast, sautéed, everything you could imagine. Harry watched as the sandy haired boy – Seamus – piled several fat little chipolatas onto his plate, before choosing a sauce. It was quite a choice – gravy, ketchup, white sauces… Not even the Christmas meals Harry had seen were as extravagant as this! It all looked wonderful, but Harry couldn't quite understand why there were bowls of humbugs amongst the rest.
"That does look good." A nearby ghost wearing a ruff said sadly as he watched Harry cut into his steak.
"Can't you…?"
"I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years." He responded. "Not that I need to, but one does miss it."
Harry nodded sympathetically, then smiled as a thought struck him. "Could I try something?"
"I don't think so, boy." He replied distrustfully.
"Please." Harry asked, with a look in his eyes that made most around him want to give him anything he asked for.
"What?"
Harry smiled happily, taking the response as agreement. "What food did you like most?"
"I… well, I don't really remember. Chicken perhaps." The ghost replied, still eyeing Harry suspiciously.
Harry grinned. "Hey, Seamus was it?" He asked the sandy haired boy.
"Yeah mate, what're you after?" Seamus replied in an Irish lilt, his grin matching Harry's.
"Could you possibly pass me a piece of that chicken? The best bit you can find!"
Seamus smiled, nodded and chose a delicious looking piece of chicken breast which he put on an empty plate and passed to Harry.
"Thanks." Harry took the plate and stared at the chicken, before looking at the ghost. "This won't take a moment… I don't know if it'll work though." He said.
Closing his eyes Harry concentrated and gradually began to sense the magic around him. He stopped, gasping, and swayed dangerously.
"Whoa, you alright there mate?" Ron asked him, holding on to the brunette to stop him falling. Harry noticed the others nearby watching him worriedly. The ghost looked intrigued.
"Yeah, I'm fine. There… there's just so… so much, I didn't – I didn't know there would be so much." He took a deep breath, not noticing the confused looks darting about. "Let me try again."
He closed his eyes again, and concentrated, taking it slower so as to acclimatise himself. Gradually he felt the thrum of magic. Again he tilted from the force of it all, but Ron's hand on his back kept him steady, and he didn't stop.
Harry found, with his mind, the ghost standing nearby. Concentrating on how the ghost felt he carefully applied the same feeling onto the chicken on the plate in his hand. Slowly he felt it change. He'd done it.
Harry opened his eyes. "Bloody Hell, what's with the light show?" He asked, as marvellous colours danced before his eyes.
"Light show?" Percy asked, "Are you feeling alright, Mr Potter?"
Harry blinked as he turned to Percy, and the colours disappeared, but he could still feel the magic thrumming through his veins.
"Never been better, thank you Percy." He responded happily, before turning back to the ghost. "Here." He held the plate out. "You'll have to take the chicken yourself, I don't think I can touch it anymore."
The ghost looked at him, startled.
"Oh, don't worry, it's perfectly safe." Harry smiled sweetly. The ghost reached out and took the chicken, looking shocked as he was able to lift it. Slowly he moved the food to his mouth and bit into it.
"Oh my!" The ghost groaned in delight as he chewed. "How on earth did you manage that!"
The ghost was not the only one who was looking at Harry with a mixture of shock and awe.
"Oh, I…" Harry looked unsure, fidgeting under the gazes of his housemates. "I think I read it somewhere…" He said noncommittally.
"I thought it was cool." Neville said timidly, then squeaked as everyone turned to look at him. The ghost coughed.
"Allow me to introduce myself, friend." He said to Harry. "I am Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, resident ghost of the Gryffindor tower." He took off his hat with a flourish.
"I know you!" Ron exclaimed, sufficiently distracted. "You're Nearly Headless Nick!"
"I prefer –" The ghost began stiffly.
"Nearly Headless?" Seamus asked. "How can you be nearly headless?"
Snape had watched attentively as both Harry and Draco were sorted into their houses. The amount of time it had taken to sort Harry was most intriguing, he would have to ask Dumbledore what it meant.
He had also watched in amazement as Harry had successfully managed to transform a piece of chicken for Gryffindor's resident ghost to eat, a feat that no one had managed before and – most likely – would never manage again. The boy was nothing if not intriguing.
Now the potions professor was attempting to feign interest as he listened to Quirrell stuttering on about some potion he'd read about that supposedly warded off Vampires.
Probably just garlic and holy water with a ludicrous price tag, he thought, not really caring either way. Quirrell obviously hadn't noticed the foul mood that Snape was in, because he kept blathering on. Don't know why Dumbledore wants a fool like that teaching defence, Snape thought bitterly, glaring somewhere over Quirrell's shoulder. I could do a better job!
Snape jumped, Harry Potter – at whom he'd unintentionally been glaring – had just grabbed his scar, as if in pain.
"Are y-y-you al-alright, S-S-S-Severus?" Quirrell asked timidly.
"I'm fine." Snape responded curtly, "you were saying?"
"Y-yes, w-well, if I b-b-bought a v-v-vial of…" Snape tuned him out, and contemplated what had just happened. Why would his scar hurt him? Snape pondered Hmm; I shall have to look into it, although I can't say it'll be easy. He's one of a kind after all. Snape sneered at the last part, and almost laughed at the whimpering it elicited from Quirrell.
"You alright Harry?" Percy asked as Harry yelped in pain and grabbed his scar.
"F-fine." Harry replied uneasily. The pain had gone, but Harry had a bad feeling, and he was sure it was coming from the dark haired man talking to Quirrell.
"Who is that?" Harry asked. "The, the man talking to Quirrell."
"Oh, you know Quirrell already? That's Professor Snape; Hogwarts Potions master. Although everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job – he's always wanted to teach Defence. Knows a lot about the Dark Arts."
Harry nodded, continuing to watch Snape. The man didn't look at him again, instead glaring at Quirrell and Dumbledore in turn.
Harry returned his attention to the conversation around him. It seemed the discussion of the moment was family. He listened intrigued as everyone explained their backgrounds. Then, when the puddings were cleared away, the hall fell silent as Dumbledore stood up to address them again.
"Ahem, just a few more words before I let you go off to bed.
"First-years should note that the Forbidden Forest is exactly that, Forbidden. A few of our older students would do well to remember that to."
Dumbledore twinkled smilingly at the Weasley twins, and one or two other students.
"I have also been asked by our esteemed caretaker, Mr Filch, to remind you that no magic should be used in the corridors at any time.
"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Those students interested should approach their house captains. Captains, it is up to you to arrange with Madam Hooch when your try outs will happen.
"Finally I must inform you that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to all that do not wish to die a very painful death."
A few people laughed at that whilst some others looked scared.
"Is he serious?" Harry muttered to Percy.
"Must be." Percy replied frowning, "but it's unusual for him not to explain why."
"Well now, I think that's enough blabbering for now. Off to bed with you!" Dumbledore cried, smiling at the Hufflepuff table where several of the younger students had fallen asleep. "Don't forget to be up bright and early for your lessons! Prefects, show the first years where to go."
Percy stood up pompously as the Hall began to move. "First years, follow me, single file. Come along. First years."
Harry stood up and started to follow when a hand on his arm stopped him. He turned to see George.
"Here, you dropped this." He held out a piece of parchment. Harry started, realising what it must be. Sure enough, the note from Draco was missing. He reached out and took it carefully.
"Thank you." He said slowly.
"Don't worry, we didn't read it." Fred said, appearing beside George.
"I'm sorry, I just…" Harry began, blushing.
"Don't worry." George replied.
"I'm sure it must be important." Fred smiled. "Come on; let's get you to the common room."
"We need to have that talk anyway." George added. With that the twins flanked him, and accompanied him to the Gryffindor Tower.
"Ah, sweet maiden of Gryffindor!" George cried theatrically at a portrait of a rather large, pink dressed, smiling lady.
"That's the Fat Lady." Fred explained to Harry, "She guards the Gryffindor Tower. Have to give a password to get in."
"Doesn't she mind you calling her that? Isn't it rude?" Harry asked unsurely.
"Oh aren't you sweet!" The lady smiled. "It's fine, lamb. I'm not ashamed of what I am, and in any case it's only paint. So long as you have the password I'm not too bothered what you call me."
"See?" George said somewhat smugly.
"Talking of passwords…" The Fat Lady looked at George pointedly.
"Caput Draconis." George replied with a bow. "Percy told us." He explained to Harry in a stage whisper.
At the password the portrait had swung forwards, revealing a fairly large, round hole in the wall.
"Need a hand?" This time it was George who offered his arm to Harry. He led the younger boy to the hole and helped him climb through.
As Harry waited for the twins to follow him he looked around the room he'd just entered – the Gryffindor common room. A fire crackled in a large, golden fireplace. Around the room were various squashy red arm chairs and sofas, and a few tables of a golden coloured wood. A couple of the older students were sat at these tables, trying to finish the work they should have done over the summer.
"Are you tired?"
Harry looked at Fred questioningly.
"We just want to know if you want to have that talk now or if you'd prefer to go to bed and talk tomorrow." George clarified.
"Although you may perhaps want to read that note you dropped before you decide…?" Fred suggested.
Harry nodded and looked around to choose a chair. Taking the initiative Fred manoeuvred him into an armchair by the fire, and sat himself and his twin opposite the bespectacled boy.
"Read away." Fred said, waving his hand dismissively.
Harry smiled and pulled out the note.
'Disused charms classroom. Ten o' clock tonight.'
That was short and sweet, Harry thought confused.
"Everything alright Harry?" George asked tentatively. Harry looked at the red heads opposite him thoughtfully, did he trust them? Of course I do, and how else will I get there?
"Where is the disused charms room?" He asked slowly.
The twins each raised identical eyebrows.
"Do you want directions or to be taken?"
"I think you'd best take me." He replied, hoping desperately he was making the right choice. "I – I trust you." He added somewhat nervously.
Both twins smiled. "When do you need to be there?" Asked Fred.
"Ten o' clock."
"Well," said George cheerfully, "That gives us all of five minutes to cross the school. Come on."
"Here we are." George pushed open the door to reveal an empty room.
"Looks like your person isn't here yet." Said Fred, "Shall we wait? We wouldn't want you to get lost on the way back." He explained. Harry nodded silently and walked to the window, looking out across the lake to the forest and the mountains beyond. The twins exchanged a look but left him to it.
Harry wasn't sure how long he stood there – tracing absent minded patterns on the dusty window sill – but the next thing he heard was Draco's voice.
"What the Hell are you doing here Weasley? Weasley?"
Harry span around and saw Fred and George facing Draco, all three with their wands raised.
"Harry, why is Malfoy here?" Fred asked slowly.
Harry walked forwards and stood himself between Draco and the twins, facing the redheads.
"Fred, George, please put your wands down." He asked quietly. He turned to Draco and was shocked to see the blond glaring at him. "Draco, I – I'm sorry."
"Draco?" Fred repeated, but George shushed him.
Draco sneered at the twins. "I thought you were meant to hate me Potter, not calling me Draco like we were best friends."
"I thought we were." Harry replied. "I can't… I just needed someone to know." Harry looked up and noticed the fear in the blonde's eyes.
"Fuck, Harry!" Draco cried, "You can't just… you can't tell, no one is allowed to know! It's not safe!"
"I trust them." Harry replied helplessly.
"Malfoy." George interrupted before Draco could reply. "I won't pretend to understand how this has come about, but it's obvious that you and Harry are friends. A friend of Harry is… well, not an enemy of ours at least.
"If the two of you are going to be wandering off to meet up Harry will need an alibi. Now he has two. I know you don't trust us, and we don't trust you, but we all trust Harry."
George gave Fred a pointed look.
"Oh fine." Fred sighed. "Merlin Harry, how can you be so manipulative without even doing anything?" The smile that accompanied the question softened the words. "Hurt him, Malfoy, and I will make sure your life is very painful."
Draco stared at Fred askance for a moment, then, much to Harry's surprise, began to laugh.
"Shall we try this again?" He asked, once he'd stopped laughing. He held his hand out to Fred. "Draco Malfoy, son and heir of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."
Fred paused for a moment before taking the proffered hand. "Fred Weasley, son of Arthur and Molly Weasley. Have you met my brother?"
George too took the offered hand and introduced himself. The three then turned to Harry.
"I'm just going to assume this is a good thing." Harry said, unsure as to what exactly had happened. "So Draco, why was it you wanted to see me?"
Draco shrugged. "I was told to." He replied, still eyeing the twins warily. "Mum and Dad say 'Hi', they're going to write you. If anyone asks say your owling a friend from Beauxbatons."
"Beauxbatons?" Harry asked.
"It's another Wizarding school. French." George replied.
Draco nodded in agreement. "We have family in France, and one of the Malfoy properties is near Beauxbatons." He explained. "That was pretty much the reason I was told to meet you, to tell you that. Oh, and to meet me at least every Friday night. It'll be nine the other nights. Dumbledore's arranged it."
Harry nodded. "That sounds good to me."
"I didn't expect you to be so good at acting." Draco said, changing the subject slightly.
"Sorry?"
"On the train. I genuinely thought that you hated me." Draco explained with a wry smile. "I know you don't. That jolt of whatever it was told me that. How did you do that anyway? It was incredible!"
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I was just trying to make sure you knew I liked you."
George looked at Harry, then at Draco. "D'you think this may have something to do with why he took so long to sort and – ?" He stopped abruptly and looked at Harry.
"And how he managed to make food that can be eaten by ghosts?" Draco finished dryly.
"You saw that?" Fred asked, shocked. Draco shrugged nonchalantly, but was blushing slightly.
"Yes. I think they're all linked, I wanted to ask him about it."
"Well that's what we wanted to discuss with Harry too. Mind if we join the conversation?" George asked courteously.
"Not at all." Draco replied. "Would you care to conjure some seats?"
Fred and George obliged, conjuring squashy armchairs for them all. Harry noted that they had decided not to use the house colours but settled instead for a deep, rich purple. Harry sank into the closest one and curled up tiredly, closing his eyes.
"You alright Harry?" Draco asked worriedly.
"Yeah, just tired. It's been a long day."
"We could wait until tomorrow." Fred said reasonably, but Harry shook his head.
"No, let's do this now. You wanted to know why I took so long to be sorted?" Draco and the twins all nodded. "The hat said I didn't belong in any house."
"It said what?" Draco exploded, sounding outraged. Harry looked up, shocked, and noticed that the red heads too looked displeased at that news.
"I – well it was more that… that I belong in all the houses, it couldn't decide which." Harry began to explain what the hat had said to him. He knew it would take some time.
Harry had been dozing in the arm chair for the past ten minutes whilst Draco and the twins discussed what the hat had said and what it all meant.
Perhaps he had eaten too much earlier, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which was talking him and telling him he didn't belong at Hogwarts. Harry told the turban he didn't want to leave; it got heavier and heavier. He tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully. He saw the hook nosed teacher – Snape – he was laughing at Harry as he struggled. The laugh turned high and cold and Snape's black eyes turned red. Then there was a flash of green light and Harry jerked awake, sweating and shaking.
"Harry?" Draco was knelt by his chair in an instant, his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Are you alright?"
Harry shuddered, he felt sick. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. Letting it out again he opened his eyes and looked into Draco's. The silver-grey was filled with worry.
"Bad dream?" George asked sympathetically. "Want to talk about it?"
"N-no." Harry replied, sitting up shakily. "No I'm ok." He added more certainly, and then when there worried looks didn't abate, "It was nothing."
"Hmm. I think we should get you to bed." Fred decided. "We'll finish talking next time."
Harry nodded, letting Draco help him out of the chair and pass him to George.
"Night Malfoy." George said.
"Goodnight, Weasley, Weasley. Goodnight Harry."
Fred nodded in reply, whilst Harry simply blinked sleepily. He leant on George heavily as the red head led him from the room, one stocky, freckled arm wrapped around the smaller boy's waist. Harry was barely aware of the trip back to the Gryffindor tower. He didn't notice the Fat Lady's clucking at the state he was in. As the twins laid him in his bed he mumbled incoherently and promptly fell asleep.
A/N:Word count for this chapter ~5400 words.
Anyone who didn't read the A/N at the top, please do, it contains some important information and I will not be held responsible if you did not read it.
The title for this chapter is an old saying, although edited very slightly. It's up to you to decide what it refers to, whether obvious (e.g. the sorting) or less obvious (e.g. ... wait, why would I tell you that?)
Next:
Chapter Four: Friends and Enemies