Harry lined up to be sorted a second time, possibly having secured a second life-long friendship. He couldn't say that Dementor aftercare was quite the same as troll fighting, but Scarlett and Astoria had come together to protect him after he had literally fainted, and apparently Astoria had known that chocolate was needed to restore him to vitality. Perhaps she had read about it while searching for dragons.
Still, he had two eleven year old girls standing fiercely on either side of him, ready to defend if he should be attacked again. Harry almost pitied Peeves if he tried to harass the first years again this year.
The line was a lot longer than it had been in Harry's first year, but as a "Fortescue" he was going near the beginning. Scarlett kept patting his elbow, so he supposed that some of his nerves at deceiving the sorting hat must be showing through.
"Fortescue, Fabergé," McGonagall called, and there was no pause, no stares, no whispers. Barely a polite interest. Harry was able to scurry up to the stool and sit-down without anyone repeating his name reverently to themselves. It was fantastic.
"Ah, back again Harry?" It was the first time he'd been addressed by name in weeks.
"My my, but you have been up to some adventures. I don't think I've seen a student as frequently as you in a couple hundred years!"
Harry couldn't help but wonder if it were under quite the same circumstances. "Oh yes, quite." The hat answered his thoughts, "you'd be surprised how often students find it useful to go to school under different identities... No no, I shan't be telling any secrets. No, the sorting hat is bound to keep the thoughts of students under wraps."
Did that mean, was it possible?
"It is not only possible, but probable! What a good joke, The- Boy-Who-Lived back at Hogwarts under everybody's nose. It'll keep the professors on their toes. They like to think they've seen everything, but I can assure you they have not."
Harry smiled a bit at that. He could personally vouch that some teachers had not seen much of anything.
"Now, a bit of advice if you really wish to go undetected" Harry's mind didn't quiet, exactly, but his focus intensified.
"You'll never succeed in deceiving anyone if you meet their eyes straight on. There's a magic in direct eye contact. It will serve you particularly well to avoid the gaze of the headmaster, or the potions master."
Harry remembered last year, in the Headmaster's office, "Is there anything you wish to tell me?" He had felt like the Headmaster had looked right through him and seen everything.
Is that all? Harry wondered. Just avoid eye contact and they wouldn't know?
"Well, you'd be well served to learn to protect your mind. But that could take years without a proper tutor. Hmmm." The hat seemed to think for a bit. Harry had no idea how long this sorting was taking, but he could afford to stand out a little if it meant he had the tools necessary to succeed.
Suddenly an image of a book appeared in his head. "Find this book. It'll be slow going, but you can learn to protect your mind from all but me. And who knows, maybe we'll meet again."
And then, without so much as a token discussion, the sorting hat shouted "Slytherin!"
It took Harry a good moment to take action, blinking stupidly as light flooded his eyes and Professor McGonagall shooed him off the stool.
He should have realized that going undercover to attend school again would not land him in Gryffindor.
It was going to be a long year.
[line break]
Fred and George sat on either side of Ron, and did their level worst to cheer him up. "Maybe he was told that he's secretly half Djinn, and they whisked him off to Bengal before he accidently started granting wishes." George mused.
"Have you ever wished for anything around Harry?" Fred asked.
"What was his response?"
"Did he flinch?"
"Did it come true, only in the worst way possible"
"He is missing!" Percy hissed, and for once Ron was grateful that Percy had absolutely no sense of humor.
"He could have-" Fred started.
"Have some respect and don't make Ron cry at the welcoming feast." Percy snapped.
"Can we make him cry when he's not at the welcome feast"
"We weren't going to make him cry!" George blatantly lied.
"Just stop." Percy scrubbed his entire arm across his eyes, apparently trying to wipe away the memory that he was related to sociopaths.
Fred and George we're silent for approximately thirty seconds, then a tiny piece of parchment fluttered over to him. Ron picked up the parchment and shoved it straight into his mouth. Swallowing any more theories about his best friend's disappearance before he could read them. He should have sat by Neville when Hermione skipped the sorting.
[line break]
The running dialog in Harry's head after he got sorted for the second time was something along the lines of "They know, they know, everyone is looking at me because they know."
But in fact, no one was looking at him. He was at the beginning of the alphabet now, so Astoria and Scarlett hadn't been sorted yet, and everyone else had turned their attention politely to the next in line.
Harry walked slowly down the side of the Slytherin table, eyes not meeting any of his new housemates, looking for a barren spot where he might not talk to anyone. When he found one, he looked up to see that it had been cleared apparently by a fifth year that he knew on sight, but couldn't recall ever learning the name of. She had a shiny prefect's badge, and the people on either side of the gap she had created we're wincing and rubbing at their shins.
"Welcome!" She mouthed, and waited for him to sit. Harry hopped over the bench, and collapsed down onto it, a tense pile of ramrod limbs stuck in some approximation of a relaxed slouch. It would do him no favors to let his new housemates know that his whole brain was a series of flashing sirens drowning out the thoughtful hemming and hawing of the sorting hat.
The hat shouted "Slytherin!" As it brushed Astoria's kinky curls, and the person to his left quickly jumped out of the way before the fifth year prefect could even draw back a foot, so Astoria came and sat gracefully next to Harry.
"I told the sorting hat I wanted to meet Slytherin's Basilisk! Do you think it's kept near the common room?" Was the first thing Astoria whispered as she pretended to clap politely for the new Ravenclaw who was sorted after her.
Harry mulled over how to break it to her that the monster was dead at his own hand before simply shrugging and hissing, "I bet there's loads of monsters lurking around this place. It's definitely too big to be housing just the students." Chances were that Hagrid had gotten /something/ new by now. He had a history. And Harry had an equal history of stumbling across such beasts.
By the end of the sorting, a dull roar of whispered commentary had arisen from the bored students, made more noticeable by its sudden cut off after the last name had been read and the sorting hat vanished.
Dumbledore stood and made his typically vague and disconcerting remarks about the new school year. Then he introduced the dementors.
"The ministry has asked that we accept the dementors of Azkaban as our protectors this year, in the wake of the escape of Sirius Black, and the disappearance of Harry Potter." Harry, who had been staring up at Dumbledore for the length of this speech snapped his gaze down at the table with the abrupt remembrance of the Sorting Hat's warning. He was going to need to find that book sooner rather than later.
[line break]
The group of Aurors standing the anteroom off the side of the Great Hall had brought out a pack of exploding snap cards to pass the time, and had to hastily hide their smouldering piles as Professor McGonagall swept into the room. Her nose twitched slightly, picking up the hint of sulfur with the speed and acumen of a life-long educator, but she did not comment.
"He is not here," she said, none of the anti-glamour charms had revealed anything but the usual vanity of the upperclassmen. "We must consider that he really was kidnapped by Sirius Black."
Kingsley looked grim, but unsurprised. "We have prepared for this. Thank you for your time."
"And the dementors?" Minerva raised her eyebrows, but refrained from making a moue of distaste.
"Still the best guard if Black is headed this way."
"Surely he has what he wants. Why risk Hogwarts?" And why not slip past them as he had at Azkaban, she carefully did not ask.
"We'll revisit the plan when there has been a sighting. We know he was headed this direction, who knows what he was thinking."
Minerva pressed her lips together. "I see." It was going to be a long year.
[line break]
Harry stood in front of a particular patch of bare Dungeon wall for the second time in his life.
"Pureblood" the prefect intoned. Harry struggled to keep his face straight. Did they really /never/ change the password? How had Fred and George not taken shameless advantage? The female prefect, hurried them inside, and once again Harry was struck with the darkness of the inside of the common room. Harry had the impression that if a single, cheerful red cushion from the Gryffindor common room had found it's way down here, it would be murdered by the straight backed black leather chairs.
'Welcome first years." The soft voice of a male prefect jerked Harry's attention from a particularly agonized looking silver candlestick, "You have passed your first test." One small titter from the first years, and some discreet coughing from the upper years. "Slytherin will be your home for the next seven years. It's triumphs are now your triumphs and it's failures are now your failures." The prefect scanned his audience, pinning them all with gimlet gaze. "Conversely, your failures are also Slytherin's failures, so failures will not be tolerated. If you have difficulty in class, you will be assigned a tutor. If you receive punishment for misbehaving, you will receive double punishment when you get back here. Some of the other houses express the sentiment that house is family, and that true in a way. You are here to honor your family. And we won't tolerate anything but the best from you. So shape up or get out." There was absolutely no humor in the prefect's gaze, which Harry thought was a bit rich coming from the house that had released a giant serpent to eat the school last year. He was pretty sure Malfoy acted out everyday of his life, but perhaps that was a special privilege of having a parent on the school board.
"And on that exciting note," the girl prefect broke in, had she introduced herself? At any point? "We're also here to make sure you have a good time. Classes start tomorrow and I'll be directing you to the classrooms as it's quite easy to be lost. Be prepared to go to breakfast at eight o'clock sharp, we won't explain anymore while your sleep from the feast, but we'll discuss more expectations during the meal. Boys, your bedrooms are through the left hallway, there will be plaques on the doors. Girls, you're on the left. I'm headed that way now, so I'll show you around. Any questions?"
"The bathroom?" A gangly boy asked with a bit of a squeak.
"Gareth?" The girl prefect asked pointedly.
"Follow me." The male prefect looked offended at the concept of first years and bathrooms and Harry was frankly grateful he didn't have to go with him.
When he had gone, the prefect said, "alright ladies, to the powder room, I know you're tired, but Slytherin's are not grubby. I'm going to teach you your first bit of magic tonight." With a mysterious smirk, she whirled around, robes flaring out in a pale imitation of professor Snape.
Harry looked to Astoria and shrugged before following after.