To clarify, chapter 9 was an April's Fools prank left up for the sake of my sadistic personality.
Chapter 10, here, is SUPER SHORT and picks up where 8 left off.
Disclaimer: I am neither claiming ownership nor making money off of Harry Potter and co.
Congratulations are due to Goldrune09, Dedicated4reading, and partially to GinHanelle for your guesses on the House of on Harry James Potter!
-o-
Last time: Harry was fairly certain this was his own fault.
This should, technically, be better than the Great Hall, Harry mused, trying to calm himself as Dumbledore plopped the Sorting Hat on his head.
There was a pause.
"Clean!" It called, and Harry's thought process froze.
"Wait, the Affiliation test is the Sorting Hat?" He asked before he could stop himself.
"No, it's a matrix of charms on the Hat," Dumbledore twinkled.
Well, as long as the good mood lasted… "What did it look for?"
"Mind control or the Dark Mark," he replied cheerily, and Harry felt like slamming his head against the floor until his skull shattered across the ground. That'd probably be less painful than this moment. He'd overestimated. He couldn't believe that he'd actually overestimated the stupid spell. Foreign influence, his foot. The Headmaster was saying, "...of course, with Voldemort gone, most of his followers, unwilling or no, have already been put away, so you don't have to worry…"
Had he just wasted all of that, admittedly last minute, effort?
Yes, Common Sense hummed, smugness in full force. He got the image of a peacock strutting around over the remnants of his ability to use logic. And now you have to help out any students in danger until the day you leave Hogwarts to live elsewhere.
"Well, then." At least it was just until summer break, if the oath held true in the same way across dimensions.
"Now for your House, my boy," Dumbledore poked Harry's nose, in a more weirdly affectionate move than Harry remembered from Dumbledore. Come to think of it, everyone seemed a little more relaxed. All four staff members (and Harry was including the Sorting Hat) were less… uptight. And since one of them was Snape, that was saying something. Didn't Dumbledore just say Voldemort was gone? Could it be this universe didn't know about Voldemort's horcruxes?
...Or someone might have taken care of them already.
Either way, there was an edge missing, a readiness he hadn't really noted in his previous life until he saw them without it. It was… nice.
Potentially a deadly mistake, but nice.
As seemed to have become the norm for things poking about his head, there was first a great burst of pain before the Hat readjusted its approach. Harry hoped the wincing wasn't obvious.
Well, well, this is interesting, a voice sarcastically whispered in his head.
For a moment, he couldn't place whether it was his common sense or not. The Sorting Hat- that's what it was.
Harry's thought seemed to distract the Sorting Hat. Hello, again, the voice said with a sort of prod at the part of him that was still dissociated from the whole, and his Common Sense gave a meek, Hello.
Irrationally, he wondered...
I can see you're wondering if I'll be revealing your secrets, the voice sounded bored, I will take this moment to remind you that children already on a much darker path than yours have passed beneath my brim with nary a peep from me. To more important things…
"Hopefully not Slytherin," he whispered, aware that the staff in the room could probably hear him, though they were politely pretending they were not listening. That sorting would only complicate things.
Snape couldn't suppress a quiet snort, however.
Wow, the spy was slipping in this no-Voldemort mindset.
You're… Fairly cunning for one as mad as you are-
"Am not… that," Harry finished lamely, not wanting to say "mad" out loud.
-I am aware of that delusion, yes. As I was saying, there is cunning in your madness, but your implementation is rash. The Sorting Hat's whispery mind voice was almost dreary as it continued, Not much love of learning, even if you're in pursuit of a specific type of knowledge. To face death as you do, not once but over and over, is a kind of braveness… or a kind of insanity. As it stands, everything you've been doing so far has been for a singular goal- reuniting with your original family- which makes placing you much easier. Hard work due to loyalty, as it were.
The rip in the brim opened and the Hat shouted to the empty infirmary, "Hufflepuff!"
That hadn't even been considered last time.
Granted, there was a lifetime between now and then. Still, that was a bit of a turn around. Harry actually felt a little disappointed in himself. Oh, every time a child or grandchild got on the Hogwarts express, he'd tell them he'd love them no matter which House they got into, but he'd always secretly hoped it wasn't Hufflepuff: House of Cuddliness and Spare Parts. His luck had held out with only the occasional Ravenclaw among the flood of Slytherins and Gryffindors that was his family, but to be Sorted himself into the House of Duffers?
Harry wanted to pull the Hat slowly down over his face until he went wherever the sword of Gryffindor was stored.
Instead, he played it off as best he could, handing the Hat back to Dumbledore and smiling cheerily, "As the alternative to Slytherin, I'm for it."
"Now, Harry, Slytherin isn't so bad," Dumbledore chided gently, but his lips were twitching towards a smile.
"I think, Headmaster, you mean that Slytherin is just as good as the other Noble Houses," Snape muttered.
"Yes, yes," Dumbledore agreed chipperly without any sign of actually listening to what a resigned Snape had said. He tousled Harry's messy hair with an aged hand, "Now it'll be off to the feast with you. I think you'll catch dessert… and maybe the school song." The professors winced reflexively.
"Headmaster," Pomfrey interjected, "he is…" A glance at the patient listening calmly to her every word, "injured. That oath, as well, could be problematic..."
"Nonsense," Dumbledore waved at the bracelet grandly, "he's taken measures to help himself along, and a little brain damage never hurt anyone. Why, one of our finest Headmasters the school has ever seen had a rather severe lobotomy incident halfway through his term-"
An indignant expression crossed the nurse's face, "Headmaster, the school was run by House Elves for three years-"
"-and it was the very best three years Hogwarts has had in terms of mortality rates and grade averages," Dumbledore concluded, adding with a crooked finger, "Come along, Harry." Hopping off the bed quickly, Harry obeyed, ignoring the bracelet which returned to the safe placard it started on as he did so.
They walked in silence three quarters of the way there, while Harry tried to follow Dumbledore rather than lead the way. If he just pretended he were playing follow-the-leader wit his grandchildren instead of walking to the Great Hall, he might be able to keep his feet from betraying his inexplicable knowledge of the castle layout.
When Dumbledore stopped abruptly in a largish room, Harry made a quick show of looking about.
"Where is everyone?" he asked, and Dumbledore blinked owlishly before comprehension dawned.
"Ah, this isn't the Great Hall just yet, my boy," the headmaster chuckled, "I merely wanted a word or two before unleashing you on your unsuspecting classmates."
Well, that wasn't terrifying at all. "What words?"
"Be yourself," Dumbledore placed a hand on Harry's head, "I know a little of what it's like to grow up different; I had a sister who struggled with what some may think of as even greater disadvantages. As it is, you will face challenges your classmates will not understand, but you will have your own strengths, Harry. They will show in time. Never fear showing your real self; your weaknesses will draw help, your strengths, alliances, and you will draw friendship all on your own." Seriousness receding, Dumbledore ruffled his hair and resumed their journey, "Especially in Hufflepuff." The boy who might have fulfilled the prophecy smiled up at the headmaster who first heard it, eyes squinted shut with the force of said smile.
He didn't want Dumbledore to sense the half-mocking, half-hysteric laughter in his thoughts through perception or legilimency.
To Hufflepuff, we go.
"Oh, yes," Dumbledore broke the returned silence at the doors to the Great Hall, "I'll be seeing you tonight to repel the daily Acromantula raids on the granary at seven."
"What-" Harry began, but the doors were opening and Dumbledore was moving again, in a beeline for the Hufflepuff table, and Harry scrambled to catch up with the longer-limbed man. The oath, Common Sense reminded him, you idiot. "Right," Harry breathed aloud as Dumbledore introduced him to his House prefects and settled him with his classmates before sweeping up to the head table.
He didn't pay too much attention to it until a familiar face he hadn't expected caught his eye and he plopped himself down beside them. "Draco!" he crowed, grabbing the boy's hand and pumping it, "Congratulations on making Hufflepuff!"
The other first year seemed taken aback until he recognized who had just assaulted him (and was leaning into the raspberry jam to do so). Draco made an ugly face of unhappiness, "You're a Hufflepuff, too?"
"Not really," Harry returned to his own seat and slathered a piece of ham in the jam from his shirt sleeve, "but the Sorting Hat couldn't just make me Headmaster right away, could it?" He waggled the knife he'd stolen from his neighbor at Draco remonstratively, "Baby steps." Harry cherished these little silences. It let him wonder what exactly the oath and the Headmaster expected him to do tonight against a raiding party of spiders the size of dogs.
Or bigger.
Harry wasn't entirely sure how big baby Acromantulas were and he doubted the adolescents had any trouble at all with the less magical creatures in the forest. Only the desperate or weak would resort to ransacking the Hogwarts granary. Were they sucking the juice out of the fruits there?
A pineapple wept over the desiccated remains of his lover, a kindly pear, and swore eternal vengeance against the foul eight-legged beastie that had stolen her from him. Meanwhile, a Hogwarts house elf entered stage left and began mumbling about pineapple upside down cake. Harry shook the image away distractedly; perhaps granary was a misleading term that meant, place where all food is stored, and there would be juicy meats and/or carcasses in storage there.
He nodded decisively to himself and resumed eating, unaware of the multitude of polite introductions and friendly questions he'd just ignored into submission. Draco, alone, was reluctantly impressed.
Speaking of… "So why are you in Hufflepuff, again?" Harry prodded aloud, following the question with a physical reiteration of the action into Draco's side.
"That's stupidly rude and personal," Draco informed him and Harry prodded him again. Physically speaking. With his spoon. Draco flailed uselessly, and huffed, "My father! That's why!" He eyed Harry maliciously, daring him not to understand, and slowly bringing up a spoon of his own.
"We exist, too, you know," a reddish-haired Hufflepuff boy wearing a carved wooden dragon pendant across the table said flatly, resting his cheek against his hand so it squished and distorted his face. Heh, Harry used to squish his children's cheeks like that. They would complain he was embarrassing them in front of their kids. He would reply that the torment would end only when he did. Which, Harry supposed, had been made a lie now by forces beyond his control. The boy looked down at the spoons they were brandishing at each other and then back up at their faces, "Did you even notice us all introducing ourselves?"
"Of course," Harry snorted dismissively. His bracelet spun to something orange at the lie, but he ignored it.
"So, who are we?" the boy challenged, gesturing between himself and Susan Bones. Harry vaguely remembered the boy's name to be Something-With-a-Z Smith.
"Hufflepuffs," Harry answered smugly, and Draco's spoon wavered as he snorted back laughter. Not being a complete idiot, Harry took advantage of the lapse to prod Draco once more.
"Oi," Draco poked him back, so Harry prodded him again. And so forth. Something-With-a-Z was quickly forgotten as the war devolved into the two simply holding their spoons against one another's sides while they ate.
Dumbledore stood as dinner wound down and desserts and food alike began to disappear from the tables.
"Before our rendition of the school song-" Snape actually put a hand over his eyes, as if shielding himself from the very thought, and the Headmaster continued, unfazed, "I have a few pieces of doddering old man advice to pass on. Though Voldemort and his rebels' time may be over, we must remember the uselessness of violence," he paused, and his eyes flickered to a few specific points on all four tables Harry couldn't connect, due to their brevity, "in the pursuit of our ideals. Regardless of where you've come from tonight, right now we are one. We are all children of Hogwarts, and to keep her standing, we must keep our unity in the face of what may seem like dividing differences." He smiled, and clapped his hands together, "Mr. Filch requested of me to tell you that you are all the same to him, with a few descriptors I leave out for the sake of brevity-" (An upper year snorted, adding, "and decency.") "-and must obey the updated list of forbidden items nailed to the door and walls outside his office. I would also add, for our first years," he clearly glanced at the Gryffindor table, "and as a reminder for some upper years, that the Forbidden Forest is similarly off-limits unless on the direct invitation of a treatied species."
Harry lifted his spoon from Draco's side, "What's a treatied species?"
Draco did not return the favor, and instead treated Harry to a particularly scathing look, "A species we have a treaty with." Something-With-a-Z seemed similarly affected by Harry's ignorance, and they shared a bonding moment over their mutual disdain.
"A treaty of nonaggression," ah, like that springing up between Draco and Something-With-a-Z, right now, "and usually including land rights," Something-With-a-Z sneered from across the table, but before he could condescend any further Dumbledore was plowing ahead through his fellow professors' blatant dislike to announce the beginning of the school song.
"And here… we… go!" The Headmaster conducted the cacophony merrily, waving his arms almost at random as he appeared to hum something quietly under the din.
"Oh, my aunt told me about this," Susan exclaimed happily, "It's so creative."
"The school song does actually have a written tune," Something-With-a-Z whinged, his hands over his ears even as Draco mumbled along and Susan wholeheartedly began singing to the tune of a wizarding folk-song about a cauldron that refused to boil.
"Prove it," Harry suggested, enjoying toeing the edge of his oath to protect Hogwarts students by prompting an addition to the musical mess. The bracelet had spun to something red, and if it were possible, he'd say his Common Sense was holed up somewhere deep in his mind where auditory signals couldn't reach.
Something-With-a-Z, glaring all the while with hands still clasped to his ears, did just what he'd suggested. Quite loudly. And off key.
At least Dumbledore was happy.
"Maybe I can teach people the right tune," Something-With-a-Z muttered to himself as the chaos tapered off, leaving the Weasley twins singing to something funeral-y, "and then next year, everyone I've taught will sing the same melody, and if I keep getting the first years every new term, and teach them to teach others, someday the Headmaster will ask for that song and all the people who know it will drown out the ones who don't."
Susan looked amused and put a hand on his shoulder, "Or you could just not do that."
He pointed at her in unspoken agreement, unwilling to come out of his partial fugue state until the last singers were done.
"It's not that bad," Draco shrugged, "My f- someone I know used to actually get nightmares about it, so I thought it'd be worse."
Susan giggled. "I think Zachariah might have a nightmare tonight, too."
"Nightmares aren't funny," Draco replied flatly, and Susan flushed.
"Sorry," she stammered, "I forgot your father… Just, sorry."
Draco grunted, which was probably going to be the end of things if Harry hadn't butted in.
"Draco accepts your heartfelt apology and extends the hand," Harry pulled the other boy's hand out and across the table, "of friendship." The compromise he'd given himself about little Malfoy was such: as annoying as he possibly could be while remaining anywhere on the range between harmless and helpful.
"First years!" A prefect called, standing up from the table, even as they were echoed at the other three House tables by their counterparts, "Follow me!"
Harry stood, wondered what the time was, and realized from Dumbledore's significant look and subsequent wading into the crowd towards the door that it may just be Spider Time.
Spider Splatting?
Acromantula Aggravating.
Eh.
The bracelet was lingering on something red-orange.
Too late for that, Common Sense murmured, resigned to their fate of discovery or death.
"Maybe I'm an idiot savant," Harry protested, opening up a third possibility in that pessimistic viewpoint and aiming for a fourth, "Or I'll be totally fine." Not a single iota of persuasion could have been squeezed from that statement.
"...What?" Susan was looking at him oddly, alone, Draco and Something-With-a- yes, he knew his name was Zachariah- having jumped ship already, placidly standing near the prefect.
"I've a place I need to be," Harry explained without explaining, hooking a thumb over his shoulder in a random direction, "to do a thing I need to do."
Susan offered, "Do you need any help?" She nodded at Harry's quick refusal and made herself scarce with a, "See you in the common room."
Hufflepuffs, Harry thought to himself, and found his Common Sense humming agreement, for once.
The bracelet turned to something green, and Harry glanced down.
Hufflepuff, it read, with a little white arrow pointing Harry's direction.
"Oh, sod off," Harry told it, and made his way toward the front door.
-0-
So what's with the child endangerment at Hogwarts, am I right? This is like the airplane peanuts joke of the HP fandom.
Well. Promises, promises. Mine to you is that the next chapter will be longer. As soon as I write it. D: