Hi guys and gals. Sorry for the delay, but I got side-tracked reading a couple of Star Wars fanfics and it has taken me a while to get back into the Harry Potter mind-set. FYI, if you want a good laugh, check out story number 3777991 on this site (it's the first part of many from the same author).

The diversion was kind of good though, as I now have a number of new plot ideas and twists that I can weave into this story. I never realised that (in canon) Obi-Wan Kenobi was held as a POW and tortured for a number of months during the clone wars. Now... who can I torture in this story? ::author walks away cackling madly::


Chapter 7 – Enter, Hogwarts

Ah, a new school. Try as you might, you can never quite anticipate what will happen when you first step into a new school. Hopes and dreams will distort your ideas, while past experience and fear will dampen your expectations. But, even amongst all the chaos, one thing is certain: no matter how bad it turns out, there is always something worthy of being remembered.

The trick is to find what it is.

~oOo~

Nothing happened for a moment, but Harry could have sworn that he could still feel Hagrid's knocks reverberating though the ground. He couldn't help but grin at the thought of what would have happened if it had been Hagrid that had knocked upon the Dursley's door that fateful Wednesday, instead of Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey. Harry quietly chucked to himself; the door never would have stood a chance.

Eventually, the massive doors opened to frame a tall woman in bright emerald-green robes; Professor McGonagall.

"The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid stated, sounding oddly formal compared to how he had been talking earlier.

"Thank you, Hagrid," she replied in a somewhat distracted voice. She was busily scanning the mass of children in front of her. Harry didn't know what she was looking for but as soon as her gaze had passed by him, her stern face softened slightly.

"Follow me, please," she instructed, and without another word she turned and made her way deeper into the castle.

Like most of the new students around him, Harry couldn't help but feel awed by the castle interior. Looking around at the massive hallways and impressive masonry, it made him feel like he had just stepped into a story about knights, quests and dragons. Harry almost tripped over his own feet at that thought. They wouldn't keep dragons at a school full of children... would they?

In no time at all, they had followed Professor McGonagall into a small room. A rumbling of voices could be heard somewhere nearby, which could have only been the remainder of the students that had been on the train. McGonagall then turned to them and waited for them all to cram into the room before addressing them.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. In a moment, you will be taken though these doors and into the main hall where you will be sorted into your house. During your time here, your house will be like your family. You will eat with your house, sleep in your house dormitory and attend classes with your house. For those that..."

Harry couldn't help but gulp. He didn't have any family and couldn't help but wonder if they wouldn't want him to be part of this "like your family" thing? What if he didn't know how to act? What if he wasn't good enough for them?

In all his worrying he never did get to hear the rest of McGonagall's speech; he didn't even realise that she had finished until the sound of a closing door made him jump. Glancing around at the nervous faces of the other students, he cursed himself for not paying attention. They gave the appearance that she had just said something that he should have paid attention to.

"H-how are they going t-to sort us?" asked someone from behind Harry.

"Some sort of test, I think," said a very pale, but very freckly boy nearby. "Fred said it hurts a lot; but I think he was joking."

The first boy tried to laugh, but it ended up sounding rather like a whimper. Harry couldn't blame him; how was he supposed to sit a test about magic when he had been told not to try any over the summer. He could hear Hermione whispering madly, from somewhere to his left; going over all the spells that she had learned already. He couldn't help but wonder just how she was able to know so much already. His worry was slowing beginning to turn into panic as he wondered if he was supposed to know all of that as well. It didn't turn into full-blown panic though, until it happened: someone screamed.

Spinning around, he soon felt his heart pounding in his chest as he stared wide-eyed at a short, oddly-dressed, slightly translucent man floating above the heads of his fellow first-years.

"Oooh! Ickle, ickle, firsties!" the man... ghost?... cried. "What fun! What fun! What fu-"

The odd creature broke off from his obvious bout of glee to silently stare, wide-eyed, at the cluster of first-years that Harry had been pushed into the middle of.

"Peeves!" yelled a voice with a thick Scottish accent. "Leave the first-years alone!"

Looking towards the source of the voice, Harry once again vowed to always use a quill in his transfiguration classes. He wasn't sure what was scarier at that moment, the sight of a ghost-like... thing (apparently called Peeves) or the sight of Professor McGonagall when she was angry. One thing was for sure though; if he survived this year, Uncle Vernon's anger would never have the same effect on him.

"Was only sayings hello, Professor. Honests," Peeves replied innocently with an sing-song voice.

"Well go and say 'hello' somewhere else. You know the rules regarding the welcoming ceremony."

"Aww, but I'll be good. Honests."

"Go, Peeves. Or would you prefer me to fetch the Baron?"

Harry didn't know who the Baron was, but he was sure that he didn't want to meet the man, given the effect that the threat had had on Peeves. The ghost-like little man had actually managed to pale considerably, before disappearing up though the ceiling. For all the wonders of magic that he had seen when he had been taken to Diagon Alley, he was now beginning to wonder if it would have been a smarter idea to just go to Stonewall High, like his aunt and uncle had wanted.

"In case you hadn't deduced it already," the professor explained to the slightly quivering mass of students, "that was Peeves; a poltergeist. If you have any trouble with him, then just tell one of the prefects, or a professor. Now, if you would form a line and follow me."

Sill feeling rather unnerved from his encounter with his first poltergeist, Harry fell into line behind a girl with a rather squashed looking face who, oddly enough, reminded him of one of 'Aunt' Marge's dogs. The line wormed its way out of the room, around a corner, through an entrance hall and up to a set of elaborately carved doors; behind which, the noise of the student body could be heard very clearly.

The noise dropped to barely a whisper as the Professor opened the doors and lead the first-years down one of the aisles formed by a number of long tables, each of which was filled with teenagers that just sat there and stared at them. Harry struggled not to fidget under their gazes and ended up raising his eyes to try to prevent himself from glancing at them. However, doing so was probably not the wisest of ideas, as he quickly came to a halt and stared at the sight of thousands of candles floating against the night sky. Unfortunately, the person behind him was still walking forward at the time and ended up running into Harry, causing many of the students sitting around them to snicker.

"S-sorry," Harry mumbled as he hurried to catch up with the line in front of him. He could hear Hermione whisper to someone behind him. Something about reading something in a book. He didn't really pay much attention to her though, as Professor McGonagall was waving him over to join a steadily growing group formed by the rest of the first-years. It didn't take long for the remainder of them to join him.

He was wondering what they were all waiting for, when he noticed a lone stool, upon which sat a rather old looking wizard's hat. Perhaps the test was to pull a rabbit out of it? Hopefully, it wasn't though, as Harry didn't have a single clue as to how to make a rabbit appear out of thin air (no matter how much a part of him wanted to know). After a few seconds of complete silence, the hat twitched; a rip near the brim opened wide, and the hat... began to sing?

Harry stood there and blinked, transfixed at the sight of a singing hat. It sung about the four different houses that made up the student body, and the qualities of each one. Eventually, the hat stopped singing and bowed to each of the tables as the entire hall erupted into applause.

"A hat? All we have to do is put on a stupid hat? I'm going to kill Fred," he heard the freckled boy whisper fiercely.

It was alright for him, Harry thought, at least he probably matched one of these four houses. Harry couldn't help but think of how he wasn't daring, quick-witted, cunning or unafraid. What happened, he pondered, to people who didn't match any of these qualities? Would he be told that he had to go back to Surrey; that he wasn't cut out to be a wizard?

Professor McGonagall stepped out in front of them and pulled out a scroll from one of her pockets. She glanced over them to make sure she had their attention, before speaking.

"When I call your name, your will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted."

"Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blond pig-tails stumbled out of the group, picked up the hat and sat down, with the hat falling further down head, to rest just past her chin. There were a few moments of pause, in which the hat twitched and murmured. Eventually, the rip on the hat opened once more.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" it called out

The table to the right of the aisle which they had walked up earlier cheered and clapped as Hannah sat down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry paled when he noticed what could only be described as ghost sitting a little further down from her.

"Bones, Susan!"

~oOo~

High up in the rafters, above the enchanted sky, Hedwig sat eyeing everyone in the room. She had managed to find her way here by following the noise caused by all the fledglings and wanted to scout out any potential threats before she turned in for the night. It was a good thing too, as there was something decidedly... off within this room. It was something that sent shivers down to the tips of her tail feathers, but she couldn't pinpoint it. It was so strong that it actually felt like it was everywhere at once.

Well, not everywhere, of course. She had almost fallen off her perch when she had first realised what was perched among the older magic users: an immortal one. She had long been told stories of the immortals, but she had never imagined that they actually existed. Hedwig's gaze flickered back to the immortal and wondered if it would know what it was that felt so wrong in this place. For a fleeting moment, she considered asking it; but that would mean having to actually talk to it. She wasn't sure if she was brave enough for that, just yet.

She was about to turn back to the room in general, when the immortal's head moved. Great Lord of Flight! It was looking right at her. Hedwig compulsively gulped; perhaps she wouldn't have any choice about having that conversation.

~oOo~

Albus smiled as he leant back and stroked the feathers of his phoenix companion. It had been quite a surprise when Fawkes had started making a habit of attending the sorting ceremonies, back when he was still teaching. But then Fawkes was a lot older than he was; so he guessed that if he was allowed a few eccentricities, then so was the phoenix.

He had been looking forward to this year. He was finally going to get a chance to see the chosen one in action. With the Philosopher's Stone also safely locked away and everything in place, there was also a slim chance of being able to buy some more time. All he needed was for Tom to take the bait.

"Li, Su!"

Almost there, he thought as he sat up straighter.

...

"RAVENCLAW!"

...

"Longbottom, Neville"

Albus watched closely as a nervous looking boy approached to stool and put the hat on. He frowned slightly, behind his beard; the boy wasn't exactly what he had been expecting. But then again, he was a product of both Frank and Alice. He wished, not for the first time, that he could have had access to the boy sooner, so he could guarantee his readiness, but that would mean having to disclose sensitive information to Augusta and he didn't wish to do that. It seemed that every person he had told, thus far, had met with a rather unpleasant end. Augusta was the only close family the boy had left.

Albus' frown deepened; this was taking too long.

He knew better than to try to influence this sorting. After a whole year of arguing with the blasted hat, he had finally come to the conclusion that he would have to have faith in the prophecy to sort the boy where he would need to be to be able to grow into what was needed.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Albus smiled broadly as he applauded. The prophecy had indeed put the boy where he needed to be. After a year or two to let the boy find his feet, he would be able to tailor some special tuition for the lad. He didn't know when Tom would regain power, but he would make sure that the boy was ready for him.

He never noticed the concerned glance that the school's resident healer sent the young boy as he rushed back to the stool to replace the hat. Neither did a certain other professor, but said professor did notice the rather unusual interest which the Headmaster had displayed in the boy whom had just been sorted.

~oOo~

Harry was getting nervous. No, strike that, Harry was beyond nervous and was now at the point of trying not to throw up. He had finally learned the name of the boy that had reminded him so much of Dudley: Draco Malfoy. The name of Slytherin House had been called out almost before the hat had even touched the boy's head.

Looking over the other people in that house, he got the feeling that that was one house he did not want to be in. Many of the people certainly looked like they would be okay, and would probably just ignore him like many of the kids from his old school, but the others looked like they were auditioning for the part of the villain in the school play. No, Harry did not want to be sorted into that house.

He was surprised that the Indian looking twins had been separated into different houses. He had thought that identical twins were supposed to be identical everything. Obviously he had learnt incorrectly, again.

"Potter, Harry!"

Harry gulped before stepping forward. He could hear a number of the students whispering, which didn't do a single thing to calm his nerves.

"Potter, did she say?"

"I wonder if he's related to Lily Potter?"

"I thought he died?"

"Nah, can't be."

"Potters have red hair, don't they?"

"Must be a cousin or something"

Harry tried to swallow the bile rising in his throat as he took the hat and carefully sat down on the stool (It wouldn't do to make a fool of himself by falling on the floor). Once seated, he put the hat on and it promptly fell down to rest upon his shoulders causing Harry to let out a small sigh; he really hated being small. He endured it though, like he always had, and waited for the hat to call out the name of the house he was to be sorted into.

A few moments later, he was still waiting.

"Well don't just sit there, child; put me on," called out a voice from about the level of his throat, causing Harry to let out a started eep.

The whispering immediately gained in volume, even while Harry replied in an uncertain (and rather muffled) voice. "But I already have."

"You have?" the hat twitched. "But then... why... oh my! Just sit right there, Young Lady."

Harry blinked to himself as a wave of laughter spread though-out the hall, and an odd trilling sound came from behind him. Not once had he been mistaken for a girl before, but here he was being called a 'Young Lady' by a hat (of all things) and he wasn't exactly sure how to respond. To make matters worse, he was suddenly getting a very tight, rather uncomfortable feeling in his chest as he felt... something... crawling over his skull.

The feeling eventually began to dissipate and a voice (which surprisingly sounded like the hat) gradually began to form within his mind. ~... left... down there... no, no it was a right... another right and... aha!~

~Oh my word!~ the voice exclaimed softly. ~May I be among the first to welcome you to Hogwarts, Young La- ~

The voice was cut off as the hat upon his head twitched violently and was silent for a few seconds.

~You're a boy!~ the voice stated incredulously.

Harry thought that it was a rather odd manner in which to state such a painfully obvious fact. He had been a boy for as long as he could remember, and was still a boy the last time that he had checked (not that he needed to check).

By now the laughter in the hall had died down, but the odd trilling sound was still coming from behind Harry, causing the Hat to twist upon his head.

"Put a sock in it, you blasted bird! I am not going blind!" the Hat called out, causing gasps from students and professors alike.

~You'll have to forgive us there, Mr Potter,~ the voice hesitantly said. ~It's just that this is... well... unexpected. I guess I should also apologise for the appalling manners of our resident fire-turkey, as well.~

Harry frowned at that. It sounded like the voice (which he could only assume was the sorting hat) was somehow expecting someone else. And what on earth was a fire-turkey?

~Oh dear, we seem to have drawn a bit more attention than we should have. It's probably best if I just get on with the sorting now. Before I make a right mess of things.~

What followed next, for Harry, were a few very confused moments of sitting there with a murmuring, magical hat perched on his head. Aside from the gender mishap, he was finding that the whole thing was rather surreal. When he awoken this morning, the last thing he would have imagined doing now was to sit down and place a talking hat upon his head. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if the hat was even alive.

~Oh, I don't know about being alive, Mr Potter, but I've got enough brains in my noggin to know what I am.~

Harry blinked again as he briefly wondered if he was talking to the hat without actually... talking.

~Yes, I have been known to talk to people from time to time,~ the hat chuckled in reply.

Another few moments passed, and a few more, until the whispers of the other students could be heard gaining in volume once more. Finally, the hat slumped down slightly upon Harry's shoulders.

~You're not going to make this easy for me are you?~ it asked and Harry's fears of not fitting in to any of the houses began to rise once more.

~Now, now, don't be thinking like that. Under normal circumstances, I know just were I would put you. Underneath all that uncertainty you seem to carry around, you have the potential to be a brilliant Gryffindor, you know,~ the hat stated, before letting out a slight mental sigh. ~But that is one place that I can't put you at the moment.~

Gryffindor? Harry wasn't so sure about that. He wasn't brave at all. How could he be? He was scared of a number of things. Perhaps that was why the hat said that it couldn't place him in Gryffindor.

~Bravery isn't so much about not being scared, Mr Potter; it's more about being able to face those fears and step beyond them,~ the hat replied as the memory of Harry's trip to the zoo unexpectedly sprung up before him. ~And that's the reason why I can't put you in Gryffindor, there would be too much exposure and too many questions. What we need is to put you somewhere where...~ the voice trailed off for a moment, leaving Harry to frown in his mounting confusion over the hat's words.

~Yes, yes; that would work. It would take would be a little bit of effort, but you should be able to fit right in. Okay, Mr Potter, I have a house for you and... well, we'll have to talk later, I guess.~

There was a slight pause, before the hat called out once more.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Both relieved and confused, Harry removed the hat from his head and made his way to the table that was clapping and cheering for him. Having people cheer for him was a novel experience, and he found that it felt rather nice. However, he didn't fail to notice the number of students from the other houses that seemed to be finding amusement in his sorting.

~oOo~

Harry's placement into Hufflepuff had generated a number of differing reactions from the Hogwarts staff.

Minerva was shocked, to say the least. She had been certain that the boy had been a shoe-in for Gryffindor. She snuck a look at her friend and scowled slightly. Poppy would never let her live this one down.

Albus was silent as he slowly clapped, his mind racing about what had just happened. The hat seemed to have reacted as though it couldn't read the Potter boy. More intriguing was that the hat had openly insulted Fawkes in front of the entire population of the school and yet the phoenix had sat there and... well it sounded like he had laughed.

He knew, from the portraits in his office, that the hat and the phoenix had an unusual friendship that had built up over the years. But still, it was an incredibly odd time for the two to joke around. This required more thought, he concluded.

Severus Snape had been watching the sorting with his usual indifference. More than three quarters of the student population were either idiots or rascals that didn't deserve to be graced with his time, and he would much rather be eating his dinner than listen to an old relic call out random names.

The Potter boy had taken his interest though (as loathe he was to admit it). Curiously enough, the brat had looked every bit like a young James Potter strutting down that isle. He even had the nerve to stop and admire the scenery, the arrogant whelp. It was then, though, that he had noticed the brat's eyes. He would recognise those eyes anywhere; they were Lily's eyes. He wasn't sure how it was possible, as he had been certain that the child had died.

Either way, his sorting had turned into a complete farce. How he had gotten the hat to play along with his little prank, he didn't know. But he did know one thing: Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, James Potter's son would get no mercy from him.

~oOo~

Harry sat down at the Hufflepuff table with a flop, next to a brown-haired boy named... Ed... Earl... Er.. well, something beginning with 'E'.

"Ernie McMillan," the boy said as he offered Harry his hand.

"Harry Potter," he replied as the two boys shook hands.

"I must say, you caused quite a stir up there."

"I did?" Harry asked, as he tried not to squirm.

"I've never heard of the hat acting like that during a sorting," commented an older girl a couple of places down. "And to insult the headmaster's phoenix and get away with it? That... well that's just not done."

"Phoenix?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, phoenix."

Harry turned to where the girl was pointing and (next to what had to be the oldest man on the planet) was the most beautiful bird Harry that had ever seen. Part of him felt a rather guilty about forcing Hedwig down a peg or two on the appearance scale, but he was sure she would understand... well, he hoped she would understand.

The bird in question turned to face him, as though sensing his gaze. The phoenix cocked its head before nodding once and rising into the air only to disappear in a burst of flame. Startled, Harry blinked a few times before turning back to the older girl.

"I take it that that's why he called it a fire-turkey?" he asked as he pointed over his shoulder.

The girl, who had been taking a sip of water at the time, promptly sprayed said drink all over the boy sitting opposite her before breaking into a coughing fit.

"Fire-turkey?" she spluttered between coughs.

"Well, that's what the hat called it."

In what felt like no time at all (now that he had actually been sorted), the sorting ceremony was finally over, with the last first-year being sorted into Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and quickly removed the stool and hat from the hall.

Harry had to guess that being a hat meant that he probably wasn't as hungry as he was himself. Glancing at his plate, he couldn't help but wonder when dinner was. He glanced at his watch, only to find that it had stopped working. Frowning he tapped it a couple of times, but still it sat there doing nothing.

"Didn't any one tell you?" asked the older girl with a concerned look. "Electrical things won't work here; because of all the magic. I'm afraid your watch is going to be pretty much useless until the end of the year."

Well that was just great, Harry groused to himself. He had been quite pleased with being able to rescue it, and now he wouldn't be able to use thing. He idly noticed Justin also giving his watch an experimental tap and felt better that at least he wasn't the only one who hadn't known that little piece of information.

"Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!"

Harry turned to see that the old man, whom was obviously the headmaster, had risen from his seat. His eyebrows shot up into his hairline as he saw that the man had a beard that was long enough to be tucked into his belt.

"Before we begin out banquet," the old man continued. "I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you."

The old man sat back down and Harry tried desperately to work out what he had said. He sincerely hoped that he wouldn't have to learn another language just to be able to learn things here. Turning back to ask one of the others what he had meant, he was startled to see that the table, which had previously only held of goblets and water jugs, was now absolutely covered in food.

"Wha?" was about the most intelligible thing he could come up with.

"Come on dig in, before it's all gone," came a call from down the table.

"Yeah, like that would ever be possible," someone replied with a chuckle.

Harry saw Justin tentatively poking a roasted potato with a fork. Obviously satisfied with the result, Justin began loading up his plate. Harry shrugged and poured himself some orange juice. He hadn't had much to drink all day and the sweets on the train had made him thirsty. However, taking a sip made him immediately regret his decision and he quickly spat the liquid back into his goblet.

"Ugh! What happened to the orange juice?" he asked nobody in particular.

"Orange juice?" Asked the girl opposite him. Hannah if he remembered correctly. "Why would anyone want to juice an orange?"

Harry blinked.

"This isn't orange juice?" he asked looking closer at the orange liquid. It looked like orange juice.

"No, silly! It's pumpkin juice," Hannah giggled.

Pumpkin juice? Harry screwed his face up and pushed the goblet away from him. "I think I'll stick to water for now," he said as he reached for a clean goblet and the water jug.

"Suit yourself. Personally, I prefer the juice," she commented.

Harry raised an eyebrow at her. People actually enjoyed drinking that stuff?

Thankfully, Harry found the food actually tasted like what it appeared to be, unlike the drink. The potatoes tasted like potatoes and the beef tasted like beef. All in all, he found that the food was actually very good. He couldn't help but smile at the thought of Dudley suffering though Aunt Petunia's mediocre cooking while Harry, the usual cook, was here at Hogwarts enjoying a well cooked meal and listening to all the chatter going on around him. He had found it surprisingly enjoyable to be included in a few odd conversations, but for now he was content in just sitting there basking in the friendly atmosphere the Hufflepuffs seemed to be projecting.

In what felt like no time at all, the tables had cleared themselves by simply vanishing their contents, much to Harry's awe. He would love to be able to clear the table like that at the Dursley's.

Once everyone had quietened down, the Headmaster began speaking once more. "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.

"I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact either their Madam Hooch, their Head of House or their appropriate team captain.

"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."

Much whispering followed this last announcement and Harry gazed around the hall, seeing many confused faces. He himself was wondering what what so dangerous about this hall. Surely there couldn't be anything dangerous in a school could there? He couldn't help but ponder this as vague images of dragons, snakes and giants danced past his imagination. He eventually concluded that perhaps it would be a good idea to stay away from the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side... wherever that was, exactly. A shiver went down his spine as he thought about what could happen if he got lost and ended up there by accident.

"And now before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!"

Dumbledore flicked his wand and words sprung up above him. At the same time, Harry couldn't help but notice that a number of the professors cringed rather violently. A really short professor had even covered his ears with his hands and mumbled something before relaxing. Another professor, this one wearing nothing but black, waved his wand in a peculiar pattern at the table in front of him. What was the big deal about singing a song?

Harry didn't have to ponder that question for long, as a cacophony of noise soon pounded against his ears. He found that he wasn't the only one wincing at the sound, and it was all he could do to not clap his hands over his ears as hundreds of voices started singing in horribly conflicting tunes. Just when he thought that he wouldn't be able to take much more, the voices died down, until finally there was silence.

After being dismissed from the hall, Harry found himself amongst a group of other first-year students, being led out of the hall. The trek to the Hufflepuff dormitories was a quiet one for the first-years. It was not that they were introspective or shy at the moment, it was more for the reason that they were being led down so many stair cases, portrait-filled corridors and through an innumerable amount of turns, that most were rather concerned about finding their way back out again.

"And here we are," said the older girl that Harry had talked to at dinner. "This is the entrance to our common room and dormitories."

Harry looked around him to see that they had ended up in a long corridor lined with tapestries. What he could not see however was a door.

"You need to remember that only we Hufflepuffs are supposed to know where this is," said the male prefect with them, "so don't go spreading the location around. If someone from another house does happen to make their way down here, then be sure not to open the door while they're here."

"Uh, what door?" asked Ernie as he scanned the hallway with the other first-years.

"I think a better question would be: where are we?" added Susan who, by this stage, was looking thoroughly lost.

"Well done, Patrick," the older girl commented as she sighed. "You may remember that this was why we were given a map in our first year?"

"I told you before, Sammie; we have enough trouble with those twins as it is. The last thing we need is them getting a hold of a map."

The older girl, whom Harry now realised was called Sammie (which he thought was a rather odd name for a girl), stood there with her arms crossed and glared at her fellow prefect. It wasn't long before all the first-years had joined Harry in watching the older students, wondering when they would be shown where the door was, or even better, how to escape the maze of corridors that they had passed through. Eventually, Sammie gracefully raised one of her eye-brows (oddly enough, reminding Harry of Professor McGonagall) and Patrick finally backed down.

"Okay, fine," he grumbled, "I'll have the maps ready for them at breakfast."

Sammie turned to the gathered first-years and smiled at them. "Right, now that that's settled let's get you inside. If you take a look at this tapestry, you should see a badger running around in it somewhere..." she broke off while she examined the tapestry.

Harry found the badger rather quickly, but wasn't sure if he was supposed to call it out or not. He was rather conscious of the fact that he had already caused a bit of a stir this evening, and was not looking forward to causing another one.

"Aha; there your are!" Sammie cried when she spotted it. "Now this little guy is called Max, short for Maximilian. All you have to do is to give Max the password and he'll open the door for you, like this: Goldfish"

"Goldfish?" asked a blond-haired boy that Harry couldn't remember the name of. He did have very snobbish tone about him that made Harry feel a bit uncomfortable about asking him.

"Yes, well, I have to admit it isn't exactly the type of password that I would choose. But then I don't get to choose them. Now why don't we get you all inside."

"But where's the door?" asked the same boy.

"Behind you."

Harry turned with the others to find that one of the tapestries had rolled itself up to reveal a doorway. Harry glanced at the badger (which was now watching the group), then looked back to the doorway. Try as he might, he just couldn't work out why the badger was on one wall, yet the doorway was the other. Shaking his head at the strangeness of it all, he followed the others though the doorway into a large room that was filled with many comfortable looking seats, couches and work tables. A number of pot plants were dotted the rather yellow-looking room and there appeared to be a group of older students waiting for them.

"They're all yours, Joanne," yelled Sammie from behind them as she took a seat in the background.

An even older girl turned towards Sammie, then stood up and walked over to the group of first-years, carrying a bowl with her.

"Hi there guys and girls, I'm Joanne, as you've probably worked out already. I'm one of the seventh-year prefects this year for Hufflepuff, and it's my duty to get you paired of.

"Now, as you should know, Hufflepuff is a house known for loyalty and friendliness. As such, we have a tradition here to always make sure that our youngest students are looked after. Each of our first and second years has someone assigned to them that they can call on to help out if they get stuck with their work, can't find where some place is, or just need someone to talk to. A mentor, of sorts.

"In here," she added as she held up the bowl, "is a list of all the names of those students that are in third or fourth year that haven't already been paired up with anyone yet. And yes, that does mean that when you get to your third year, you will be likely paired up with a new student, to help them as these guys behind me are going to be helping you."

Harry felt his stomach tighten again. He couldn't help but wonder if his luck would land him with someone who was a lot like Dudley. The older students hovering in the background looked friendly, but then so could some of Dudley's friends... just before they ended up putting a fist in your gut.

"Okay. I want you guys to form a line; any order will do, it makes no difference; then come up here and pull a name out of the bowl. Call out the name, and that person will come and introduce themselves. They'll let you know what to do from there."

After a brief moment of chaos (where the group of first-years did their best to arrange themselves into something that resembled a line), one by one, they pulled a name from the bowl and read it out. As soon as they did, one of the older students would come up and introduce themselves before leading them away and allowing the next person to come up to the bowl.

Harry, who was used to being picked last for things at school, had automatically dropped to the back of the group. By the time he had his turn at the bowl, he had noticed that many of his fellow first-years had already left the common room, the boys heading in one direction and the girls in another. Taking what he hoped was a calming breath, he stepped up and raised his hand to place it in the the bowl.

He fished around for a second or two, until he had separated out a piece of thick paper (no... parchment,he corrected himself) so that he could grab it. Pulling it out, he unfolded it and frowned. The name had been been scribbled out. At a loss as to what he should do he glanced up at Joanne. He was about to ask whether he should pull another one out when she glanced at the parchment and rolled her eyes.

"Nymphadora," she called.

"Oy. How many times to I have to tell you not to call me that!"

"Whatever," Joanne sighed. "Just get over here, your name's been pulled."

Harry wasn't sure what to make of the situation. Obviously something had happened between these two in the past, but he didn't know what. He was even more confused when a red-haired girl whom had sounded so angry just a moment ago, bounded over to them, threw a nasty look at Joanne, then turned at Harry and thrust her hand in his face.

"Hi, I'm Tonks, you can call me Tonks and if you remember that I'm called Tonks then we'll get along fine. Call me that other name and I'll curse you into oblivion," she said with a bright smile.

Harry could feel his eyes widen slightly as he took a step back. She had said all that with a bright smile, but many years around Dudley meant that he knew a threat when he heard one. He was rather surprised, however, to see Joanne clip the younger girl on the back of her head.

"Be nice! You're scaring the firstie."

"Hey, I can't help it if I'm cursed with that word rather than a proper name!"

Joanne rolled her eyes again before waving her finger in front of the red-head's nose.

"Be nice!" she enunciated slowly, before shaking her head and walking away.

Harry stood there, staring warily at the girl that had just threatened him. Eventually, the girl noticed his posture and her shoulders dropped a bit.

"Oh, don't go like that on me. I just don't like the name, okay?"

Still, Harry didn't move.

"Okay, let's start again," she said as she held out her hand, "Hi, I'm Tonks. I'm a third-year and I'm going to play the part of your mentor for the next two years. I do have another name that I don't let people use, because it's a horrible, horrible name. It's a name that should never be given to anyone and if you remember that it's a horrible name then we'll get along swimmingly."

Harry tentatively reached out to take the girl's hand.

"H-Harry," he stammered.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" she said with a grin.

"I guess not," Harry replied slowly. This girl was... confusing.

Tonks regarded him curiously for a moment and tilted her head to one side.

"Do I know you from somewhere?"

"I don't think so," he said. Harry was sure he would remember some one like her.

"Hmm, what's your family name?"

"Potter."

Harry watched as she pursed her lips for a few seconds, as though trying to remember something, before her eyes bulged comically. He felt like laughing at the sight of the goldfish impersonation she started doing, but felt that laughing at this girl probably wouldn't be the best thing to do. Finally she gulped and replied with a rather nervous expression on her face.

"Right," she said. "Well... um... breakfast starts at seven, so I guess... I guess I'll meet you here around then and... and then take you up to breakfast... Oh right! Heh-heh, yeah, um, your dorm room... it's through that door, just uh... just look for the one that says first-years."

Harry couldn't help feel like his hopes were falling to his feet. This girl was acting as though she knew him, but not in the way that Hermione and a few others had. No, Tonks was acting in much the same way as kids at his old school would, when he introduced himself. It was the same mixture of nerves and anxiety that they got when they realised that they were going to be beaten up by Dudley, just for talking to him.

Harry's shoulders slumped; his reputation had followed him to Hogwarts. Before he could say anything, Tonks spun around and stumbled a few steps before rapidly retreating towards where Harry assumed the girl's dorms were.

Harry, feeling rather dejected, turned to the boys dorms to go and find his room. He eventually found both it and a bed that had his new trunk sitting at its foot. Changing quickly into some pyjamas, he climbed into bed and closed the curtains that hung around it, doing his best to ignore the curious looks he received from some of the other boys in the room.

~oOo~

Tonks tugged at fistfuls of her hair as she paced around her dorm room, oblivious to the concerned looks she was getting from her dorm-mates. She had been picked to mentor the one person who had the potential to ruin her time here at Hogwarts. Why, oh why, did Harry Potter have to pull out her name? This was not good, not good; no, definitely not good.

She desperately needed to solve this; but how? With a flash of inspiration, she spun around made for the exit. Perhaps Professor Sprout could fix this.


AN: So, nobody managed to guess what the hat was going to say. I'm not sure if that is a sign that people don't care, or that my idea was just highly... strange.

Any-who, Harry is now a Hufflepuff so I expect to hear a number of groans about a Harry turning all mary-sue. I'll try to disappoint those groaners now by pointing out that the sorting hat said that Harry is actually better suited for Gryffindor, not Hufflepuff.

By the way, the mentor thing was an idea I picked up from a story called 'Welcome to the World' (by Kyuubi08, adopted by Shimo Ino). I also took advantage of this to de-age Tonks by a few years as I have need for her to be closer to Harry's age (I can neither confirm nor deny if this is to do with possible ships. I have already said that I won't give away the plot).