Chapter 11

Alden tapped the tip of his long nail against the parchment. "Your results definitely explain things."

Flicking his eyes up, Louis hesitated to grab the parchment but eventually gave into the curiosity and slid it closer, looking down at the neatly written ink. He wouldn't prevent the inevitable. These were facts, plain and true, and no matter how much he avoided them, they would still be there. They would still exist.

Hadrian James Potter

Born 31 July, 1980

To

Lilian Grace Potter nee Evans (deceased 31 October, 1981)and James Patrick Potter (deceased 31 October, 1981)

Godfather: Sirius Orion Black (incarcerated 1 November, 1981)

Godmother: Alice Maria Longbottom nee Proctor (admitted indefinitely to St. Mungos 4 November, 1981)

Heirships

Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter (direct, blood heir through father)

Most Ancient and Noble House of Black (direct, blood heir through father and appointed through godfather)

Most Ancient and Honourable House of Ravenclaw (direct, blood heir through father)

Most Ancient and Honourable House of Peverell (direct, blood heir through father)

House of Swine (appointed direct heir by previous Lord-deceased)

House of Koufay (appointed direct heir by previous Lady- deceased)

House of Jane (appointed indirect heir by previous Lord)

Vaults

Vault 23

Vault 35

Vault 3

Vault 1

Vault 275

Vault 316

Vault 708

Vault 937

Vault 912

Vault 869

Vault 687

Vault 688

Abilities

Metamorphagus - traced through Black blood. Partial development. 100% access.

Parseltongue - traced through Peverell blood. Partial development. 100% access.

Wizard - unknown. 100% access.

Animagus - traced through magical ability. Form unknown.

Natural Healer - traced through magical ability. Partial development. 100% accessed.

Struggling to keep his face blank, Louis blinked slowly, allowing himself to focus more on the way his eyelashes felt against his cheek rather than the parchment in his hand. Swallowing, he placed it back on the desk and looked at the goblin.

"Can you explain all of this for me, Master Goblin?" While the title hadn't been used by the other goblin upon entry or even on a nameplate, Louis knew from his lessons with Shira that it took a great deal of trust and respect to be given this job. To know the individual secrets and capabilities of any magical being. He knew that this was one of the few jobs that held such a title and he felt the goblin deserved to at least have it acknowledged.

Pausing for but a moment, the goblin spun the paper back towards him and cleared his throat gruffly. "I believe the heirships are pretty self-explanatory. They were appointed to you be either family members or by people grateful for defeating the Dark Lord Voldemort. The same can be said for the vaults, Mr. Potter." Waiting for Louis to give a nod of understanding, the goblin continued. "Now, as for the abilities . . . . These are what your magic has gifted you, be it through your blood or directly herself. Fortunately, you have full access to each, which means you can do everything that is possible with them. The fact that they are underdeveloped means that you haven't quite managed to do so as of yet. For example, take metamorphagi. You clearly show proficiency in changing hair and eye color as well as height and skin tone but am I correct in assuming that you have never morphed yourself into, say, a female?"

Wide eyed, Louis shook his head quickly and viciously. "You can do that?!"

Alden chuckled. "You can, yes. All this parchment says if that you have much to learn, not a bad thing at all."

Louis was silent for a moment before nodding slowly, cutting his gaze over to the goblin. "You know, you're oddly kind for a goblin."

Alden gave a toothy grin that contradicted his statement quite quickly. "And you're quite strange for a wizard. I have to work with children in here often, what's your excuse?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Do I need one?"

The goblin gave a throaty laugh.

For the next couple of hours following his trip to the bank, Louis had gone down the little side alleys and gone shopping for extra things. He had neglected to go down to his vaults today, mainly because most of them wouldn't give him access until he was much older and had done something (like accept a Lordship). With instruction for Alden to merge the extra vaults into his trust vault (which was also a merged vault of what his parents and godfather had set up for him) as they didn't hold much in them, Louis had paid for a weightless, bottomless pouch that had a direct portal link to his trust vault. While it was definitely larger than most people had, he was determined to only get all of the things he needed and maybe a few extras. He wanted this money to last him awhile because while he had no intention of being a so called trust fund baby, he didn't want to be quick to spend. He had to play this smart.

So while he was shopping, he bought many things that he had not gotten yesterday. He bought fountain pens and more books on various subjects (including metamorphagi and parseltongue). He bought pants and t-shirts and socks and boxers and a new pair of shoes (or two) and even a jacket and a nice coat. He even bought a few cloaks to blend in better. He bought spare potion ingredients as well as some more introductory and intermediate books. He even grabbed a silver lined leather journal to write in. He bought items and toys for his new friend the tiger and a charmed rock that would always stay warm for Sanguini. He bought a set of daggers from a man down in Knockturn Alley(for self defense of course) and some books on the darker side.

All in all, Louis bought many things that he figured could last him quite a while but he was glad to make it back to the Leaky Cauldron, where he immediately dumped his items onto his room's floor, plopped on the bed, and fell asleep. He didn't even take off his shoes or notice Sanguini slide up his arm, coiling along his shoulder or the tiger cub purring next to his head, tail tucked between them.

For the longest of times, he had been alone. Slipping through lives as if it were butter. He had been invisible, unseen by the world and everyone in it. He had known pain and hatred. Had seen awful things, had experienced them. Life hadn't been kind to him, he knew that now. It had been particularly cruel.

His parents had been murdered when he was just one year old, barely old enough to even capture their faces and form the echo of their laughs. He couldn't remember them. Not even in his dreams. Not really. He had vague ideas but nothing concrete, nothing definite. They were faceless heroes who had until a few years ago had also been nameless. They had given their lives to protect him, to protect the boy that was the real cause behind their deaths. Shira had told him the truth, not hiding anything. She had told him of a prophecy, one that had labeled him as a potential threat to the Dark Lord, and it was this prophecy that had shoved his parents into a hidden little house, behind wards and delicate trust. It was he who the Dark Lord came to kill. He was the reason the chance was there to be taken. Now, he wasn't a selfish little fool. He wasn't stupid. His parents had been in a war, had been key fighters in it. A war that wasn't slowing down, just getting messier and bloodier. Odds are, his parents would have died anyway. They would have fallen in the heat of a battle by the hands of some twisted, skillful Death Eater. He knew this. He knew this. But that didn't stop the guilt. It didn't stop him from placing the blame upon his shoulders.

But if their passing wasn't enough, he had been placed into the hands of the Dursley's. Oh sure, on the outside they might have seemed like every other person. Full of faults but within reason. He knew better though. Aunt Petunia was just a bitter woman that liked to dress everything up to make herself feel better. They were not rich aristocrats that were high up within society and full of friends. Petunia had only one true friend and she came from her years at university, had been her roommate before she had dropped out. Petunia despised being second best and had married big, had gone after Vernon Dursley. Vernon who was just as ugly on the inside as he was on the outside and who had enough money from his parent's will and had a big future lined up for him that he would allow her to live more than comfortably. They loved each other, he knew that. They were perfect for each other, even, but that didn't mean they were good for each other. They brought out the worst in each other and what made it even worse was that neither of them cared. They reveled in it. Then came Dudley, who was the perfect blend of the both of them. A snot nosed little brat that felt liked he was owed the world. They were all pathetic in their own right. Petunia hated him for his ancestry, for who had given him his genes, for his magic. She was jealous and that always made her turn her head. Vernon hated him for being a nuisance, for destroying their perfect little family picture. He was nothing but a black smudge on their perfectly white image. He wasn't normal. Dudley hated him for being there, for taking time that should be allocated to him, but he also hated him simply because his parents did. Like father like son. Petunia gave him chores and lists and food to cook. Vernon gave him bruises and scars and nightmares. Dudley gave him taunts and cruel words and scrapes. They had tortured him.

How he despised them.

But then they left him and France had been the best thing for him, had been the dim light at the end of a tunnel. He didn't have the best arrangements, that was for sure. The weather was always against them and money and food was tight but he had known worst, he had seen the alternative, and so he sucked it up and pushed forward. He moved on because he had to. The people of France knew him as a thief, a deviant. He stole from their stands and little shops, begged people for scraps and spare change, and he always escaped their grasps, slipping through their fingers. He had to move streets every couple of days, had to walk out farther and farther to get somewhere new, to avoid detection and arrest but he did it because he had to. There were some at that orphanage that hated him, that used him as a punching bag when things got wrong or he got too involved or something equally stupid and worthless. There were some that he would gladly punish, children that he disliked, but he wouldn't let them starve. He never gave them the food directly, always passing it on to another group, but sometimes it reached them, sometimes they tasted the soft bread he had stolen that day or the rich apples, and he stayed silent, accepting their silent nods of thanks because even though they were stupid and mean, they were children. They didn't deserve to starve. He knew that now; the problem was accepting it for himself.

He had gone many days without food, both during and after the Dursley's, and he couldn't say that the hunger pangs and empty hollows of his stomach didn't bother him. He could count his ribs at times, could run his hands over the hipbones that jutted out quite profoundly against his skin. He could tell that he was starving and that he needed to eat but the others came first. He could take it but they didn't have to. He could wait another day or two. It wouldn't matter not really. Because while he knew he needed the food, he also knew that he was avoiding the food for any particular reason. He knew how long he could last, he knew his limit. He would eat before he even reached it and he felt that that made a difference. That all of this made a difference.

Walking down the halls of Gringotts, having had discussed the Vaults under his name with Alden, Louis knew that he didn't have to go back to that life. He could make it all better for both himself and those other children. He had already asked the goblin to donate a large sum to the orphanage and he wished he could see the Matron's face when a bank deposit was made to them all, could see Little Ally Ann with a new dress and Conner Yonts with a purely white, red stitched baseball. He wished he could be there for the first real meal that they would all receive, warm and rich but light enough to not make them sick. Wished he could be there when they put in air conditioning and a heater and something for the water system. He wished he could see their faces, their smiles and tears. He wished he could join them.

Because even though he knew the truth and Alden knew the truth, he couldn't be Harry Potter here. Not yet. He had already stopped the funds from the Hogwarts Scholarship, had already ordered for the return of the money he had spent, and while he had bought a little bit more, he knew he couldn't go crazy. He couldn't look like a pureblood heir. He was the orphaned muggleborn. The one on a loan. He had to play the part. He would try his best to look good doing it though and to have all the right books and such. And so he bought more books for himself and a bigger wardrobe, full of all the basics he had missed, he got himself new shoes, his own pairs, and he bought nice shampoos and lotions and conditioners because he wanted to be clean, wanted to be the cleanest he had ever been. He was starting new here. This was his second chance all over again. Louis Thompson would be a name that they reveled in the wizarding world but one that would be forgotten.

He would learn and grow and soon, soon, he would be ready.

He would be ready.

September 1st came fast and suddenly that he barely even noticed it. He wouldn't have even packed his trunk in time if not for Tom the barkeeper. That morning, after he had been showered and fed, Tom left quick instructions to his niece and apparated him to King's Cross, where he was lead to the platform of 9 ¾ before Tom had to return, bidding him a kind goodbye.

He had arrived a little early that morning, over an hour before departure time was set, and as such there were not a lot of people around. Two men dressed in darkly colored robes stood talking to the side of the train, not even turning to look at him, and a couple of teens were chatting together near a small section of parents, laughing and exchanging jokes. As it didn't look like anyone was on the train, Louis quietly went through a door and stepped on, climbing some steps. Having had learned the charms for resizing and lightening objects, Louis had no problem getting his trunk on the train. It was in his pocket after all and so he walked by many compartments, peering inside at each of them, all empty. The first few were clean and sharp looking, decorated in light grays and creams with smoothly crafted doors and clean windows. He assumed these were for teachers and the likes. Maybe special students. Next came sections of compartments, all were decorated in medium grays and neutral shades of various colors, mostly reds, blues, and browns, though some were plum. As he went deeper, they slowly got a bit more dark for by the end of it the compartments were dark colors that resembled black, like the night sky, and had curtains to block out any lights. These would be perfect for those seeking silence. Perfect for headaches and studying. Backtracking, Louis picked a compartment that was in the middle of the train, leaning towards the back a bit. Closing the door behind him he pulled out his wand and trunk and with a simple flick a muttered phrase, it was resized and he then levitated it to the racks above the seats, where it clattered down with a little jingle of metal. Smiling a little at the accomplishment, he sat himself down by the window and waited, watching the families that appeared.

The first one he saw was of a teenage girl with long blonde hair and her father. There was no mother. She had a red scarf tied around her neck and was smiling a smile of pink lips and rosy cheeks. She chatted happily with her father, who had a small smile also on his face and thin lips. Louis couldn't tell what they were saying, nor could he even imagine it, but if he had to guess it would be of inconsequential stuff and when another family appeared, walking right through the barrier, with a set of parents and an equally pretty teenage daughter, this one with warm, chocolate skin and big eyes, the girl gave her father a hug before running over to the other, who also bid her parents farewell, and ran to meet her in the middle. Best friends, he thought with a small tilt of his lips.

Next came two men with three boys, two that looked to be quite old, probably around 16, and the other one that looked about eight. The youngest had his hands clutching his brothers, laughter escaping his lips as they swung him between him, large grins plastered on their tan skin. They all had dark brown hair and gentle eyes and big smiles. They all looked happy and he watched as they continued to laugh and smile and play around, just enjoying each others company and the opportunity to do so, before flicking his eyes over to a new group.

This one was of a young boy in thin pants with tired eyes. His parents followed closely behind him with the mother's hand on his shoulder and they exchanged wary, small smiles that looked a bit shaky. They looked at everything with wide eyes, flicking about rapidly in a chance to look and capture everything. The trolley was forgotten as they looked about, walking slowly towards the train. He watched as they enveloped one another in their arms, forming a tight hug in a desperate attempt to never let go. They would miss one another, that was clear. He looked away.

Family after family came through, each dressed in various degrees of wealth and with various expressions and people. Some came with just one person, others with ten. Some wore grins, others teary faces, and a few with no expression at all. Some were dressed in simple pants and a sweater, others in elaborate and clearly expensive robes. It was ever so fascinating.

Looking away, deciding to take a break from his people watching, Louis rolled back the sleeve of his jumper to reveal Sanguini. The snake lifted his head, bobbing it a little, and tiredly flicked its tongue out, tasting and smelling the air. Louis quirked a smile.

"We made it, Sanguini. We're going to Hogwarts."

He was alone for the next two hours. Having had pulled out a book on transfiguration, Louis entertained himself in his solitude. After waking up Sanguini, the two had exchanged a short conversation, where Sanguini and him discussed the meal plans for the reptile. Louis knew from Hogwarts: A History that there was a kitchen somewhere but until he could find it, Sanguini was allowed to roam a section of the Forbidden Forest. There was no way in hell he was going to feed his friend any food from the tables. That was for sure.

About a quarter of the way through the eighth chapter, the door to his compartment was slid open and a pudgy boy with straight locks popped his head in. He danced from one foot to the other, biting his lip and staring at Louis nervously. Louis, figuring the kid was quite shy, raised an eyebrow and tried to give a kind smile.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

"Oh . . . um . . . you haven't seen a toad around here have you? He jumped out of my pocket and I lost him." The boy started to mumble towards the end of it and his cheeks reddened with embarrassment. Louis knew that while toads were one of the three pets allowed (officially anyway) they weren't very popular. Perhaps the boy didn't consider it "cool" to own a toad?

"I haven't but I can teach you a spell to have him come to you, if you'd like?" He offered, deciding that this boy looked like he needed cheering up and a bit of confidence.

The boy's cheeks reddened even more though as he began to stutter. "T-That's okay. I w-w-wouldn't be able to cast any spells. I'm not very good at magic . . . everyone says so." Ignoring this though Louis only smiled and patted the seat next to him.

"Nonsense. You're a wizard, wouldn't be here if you weren't. You are just as capable at casting a spell as the next guy. Besides, " Louis smirked "I'm not apart of everyone, I'm afraid, so you kinda have to do the spell. If only to prove me wrong, which I already know you won't."

Looking unsure but resigned, the boy walked forward and sat himself down, allowing the door to shut behind him. Louis turned his body some more to face him better and allowed for his wand to slide out of it's holster and into his palm. He wrapped his fingers around the wood and motioned for the boy to do so as well. He did, quite reluctantly at that.

"Excellent." He smiled. "Now before I teach you this spell two things: one is that it is a bit advanced so you might have a little trouble but we'll eventually get it so don't worry about that. Second, it is only polite to know who I am teaching." Here, he allowed his smile to stretch it into something a bit more natural and relaxed, softening it. The boy returned it hesitantly after a minute.

"I'm Neville Longbottom. Nice to meet you," Louis grinned, showing his teeth.

"I'm Louis and it's been a pleasure Neville," he straightened his spine. "Now the spell I will be teaching you is the Summoning Charm. First, you-"

For the next half hour, Louis showed Neville the proper wand movements and taught him to right annunciation, adjusting his stutters and wrist twitches with a patience calm. Neville fumbled with his wands quite a bit first, flinching and jerking around as sounds escaped his lips that were vaguely said in latin but not right at all. But after the boy realized Louis was not going to scream at him, he slowly became more confident and relaxed. His hand stilled and became steady, his voice louder, firmer. Louis fixed anything the boy did wrong, providing soft tips here and there, repeating the process that Shira had done not that long ago with him. It seemed Neville was a natural because before an hour had passed, he had managed to summon the pen they were practicing with.

"I-I-I did it!" Neville cheered, eyes wide and mouth agape in astonishment. "I did it?"

Louis nodded quickly, a large grin on his face as he peered at Neville with pride. "You did it, Neville! Faster than me too, took me a couple of days. I knew you'd get it!" He clapped the slightly taller boy on the shoulder. After a second, a breathy laugh escaped Neville and before long he was howling with laughter, tears streaming down his face, repeating the phrase "I did it" under his breath.

Once his student had calmed down, Louis slid his wand back into the boy's palm, the weapon having had fallen to his lap, and closed the boy's fingers around it. "Now, let's get Trevor."

Armed with renewed confidence and his recent success, Neville cleared his throat and said clearly, "Accio Trevor the Toad" and not even a minute later a thump was heard against the door. Eyes wide, the two boys exchanged a glance before jumping up and running to the door. Outside, looking a bit dazed, was a toad that Neville loudly proclaimed as Trevor.

Louis sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, letting his fingertips dip down the hem of his shirt a little. "My bad, should have opened the door first. Sorry Trevor."

Trevor croaked happily and the two boys once more dissolved into laughter.

"By the way Neville," Louis said, catching his breath and breathing in large gasps "that was a fourth year charm. You should be really proud."

The blush and pleased smile did not leave Neville's face for the next hour.

"I'm a pureblood," The boy to his left said as he opened a Chocolate Frog "that's a wizard born to two magical parents and has two sets of magical grandparents. I live with my grandmother. She's a bit crazy. Really strict and scary." Here, Neville shivered and Louis felt his lips tip p a little in faint amusement. "No one thought I was magical for the longest time but they figured it out real quick when my uncle pushed me out of the window and all I did was bounce off the grass." Neville smiled here but Louis saw that it was a bitter one and he honestly couldn't blame the boy.

"They threw you out the window?! What if you hadn't have bounced? You could have died!" He exclaimed. Neville's head snapped up, eyes a little wide.

"It wasn't that bad, honest! I'm sure someone would have cast a charm. They probably charmed the ground to be soft just in case. Really it would have been fine,"

Louis shook his head. "You are very brave, Neville. And kind. I would have been quite angry at my relatives if they had pushed me out a window." He didn't say anything about what they had actually done. No need for depressing things.

"Iunno about that . . . ." He trailed off. "What about you Louis?"

Louis turned the candy in his head, running his hand down the curve of the box. "Me? Well, I grew up in an orphanage. My parents were said to have died in a car accident when I was one." He shrugged. "I guess I'm a muggleborn, no evidence to suggest otherwise. It's just me."

Neville looked at him for a moment, a sad silence hanging between them. "Maybe we could do a heritage potion later on, see if there's anyone out there?"

Louis smiled unhappily. "Maybe." He set the box down, not feeling hungry anymore. "Anyway, the first time I can think that I performed accidental magic was when I was four and I healed my broken arm after falling from a tree." He didn't mention that Dudley had been the one to push him from said tree.

Neville looked surprised. "You healed yourself? At four? That's a really rare ability, Louis, even for accidental magic. You should look into that. Have you ever done it, besides that time that is?"

Louis's eyebrows rose in sincere surprise. "Really? And yeah all the time. Bruises and scrapes, stuff like that. It's always gone by the time I wake."

"That's really cool, Louis. You should definitely talk to the school healer, she'll be able to help you master it."

Louis nodded, "I will. Thank you, Neville. I thought it was pretty normal."

"No problem."

They sat in comfortable silence before Louis asked, "So, what else can you tell me about the Wizarding World? Anything interesting? I already know about the last war with Voldemort and the whole bloodline issue, but is there anything else you can tell me?"
Neville looked a little unsure, eyes squinted in concentration, before they opened up more and he bit his lip once before releasing it. "Well, did they tell you about Harry Potter?"

Making sure his face was blank and voice flat, Louis nodded. "Yeah, what about him? He's the one they claim defeated Voldemort right? The baby?"

Neville nodded, looking serious. "Yeah, we call him the Boy-Who-Lived. He survived the Killing Curse, which rebounded and hit You-Know-Who. Or at least that's what Dumbledore says. Anyway. He's supposed to be coming to Hogwarts this year."

"Really?"

"Mhm," Neville hummed and nodded. "Wouldn't that be cool? To have a celebrity here at school with us and in our year too. I wonder what House he'd be in. Probably Gryffindor."
"Why Gryffindor?" Louis asked, genuinely curious about Neville's reasoning.

"Well," Neville began, looking a bit distracted as he scratched lightly at his elbow. "He is supposed to be really brave right? A hero. He's our saviour. I think everyone would have kittens if he got put anywhere else. Could you imagine the supposed "Golden Boy" in Slytherin? The world would have a field day, claiming him to be a Dark Lord in training. Bullocks that." Neville abruptly stopped here and looked a bit worried, as if he had said something he shouldn't have. Louis nodded.

"That is bullocks. Slytherins aren't evil. People are evil, if such a thing even exists."

"What do you mean? How could evil not exist?" Neville asked, confusion quite evident in his face.

Louis shrugged. "One could say that evil is just the absence of good and everyone has good in them. It might be buried and hidden and really small but it is there. And if it's there, then evil cannot be present can it? Evil is just a suggestive term. It doesn't really mean anything."

Neville nodded very slowly. "T-That . . . makes sense."

"Besides, claiming all Slytherins are evil is like saying all Gryffindor's are good. There were Death Eaters from that House and the other two just like Slytherin. Beliefs are not what defines a House. It's character and ability that does. It's our choices and mindsets. Our personality."
"S-So if you don't think Slytherins are evil and Gryffindor's good, then what do you think? My gran seems to think the only real House to be in is Gryffindor. She'd probably disown me if I went elsewhere."
"That's just bullshit," Louis snarled lowly and Neville jumped in surprise, staring at him in astonishment. "You can't let a House mean that much to you. Sure, be proud of it, but this is school. We're only here for seven years, I mean honestly. Each House has a lot to offer, to be proud of. You shouldn't let your grandmother cloud your judgement, Neville. You should be proud of whichever House suits you. Remember that. Slytherin's are ambitious and smart in their own way. Very sneaky. It takes a great deal of drive and determination to get anywhere and to accomplish that. You have to respect that, at least. Ravenclaws are intelligent and observant, often thinking outside of the box and exploring more than the norm. They're creative and the world needs that. We need color. Gryffindor is full of courage and resourceful. They use any means to do what needs to be done and sometimes that is very admirable. They're not afraid to stand up, even if it's just for their self. That takes a lot to do. Hufflepuffs are loyal and kind, full of drive. They're always there to help people out and stand by you no matter what, through thick and thin. They don't back down and believe in wholes. You can't say that about a lot of people. Each House represents something beautiful and amazing. We shouldn't discriminate them like we do."

This had been one of the things that bothered Louis: the House system and the way everyone treated each House. There were stereotypes but they rarely ever showed to be perfectly true and it was driving him mental. He was so annoyed. Not all Slytherins were bullies or jerks, there were many that felt hated their House and the ideas surrounding it, many who disagreed with violence. One of the most renowned pacifists in the Wizarding World was a Slytherin. Not all Gryffindors were rash and knights in shining armour. There were many of them that cried and screamed and hid behind the world, sticking to shadows. Many that threw curses and planned down to the last detail. It took a lot of bravery to be yourself though and there were different kinds of bravery. No one seemed to get that. There were stubborn and vicious Hufflepuffs that liked to fight and didn't know when to back down. Hufflepuffs that liked curse words and drinking and dancing and playing pranks. There were Ravenclaws that hate homework, hated studying, but loved research. They loved reading about absolutely everything involved in certain topics. Ravenclaws that could talk for hours about abstract theories in charms but when it came to the actual lesson that day, would fall asleep faster than one could say Snitch.

Breaking out of his stupor with a slight jolt, he looked over to Neville, who was staring at his with a frown, and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about that. It just annoys me."

Neville shook his head. "No you're right. No one seems to think like that but I'm glad you said it. Now there's two people who see it that way. Makes me feel a bit better about the whole thing." And because of that simple statement and the sheepish smile Neville himself flashed him at the end of it, Louis grinned.

Maybe Hogwarts wouldn't be so bad.

If Louis knew that the sorting would be done by a magical hat with the ability to read

one's mind, he might have reconsidered going to Beauxbatons. Honestly.

Walking between the two middle tables, with Neville by his side and a boy with black

hair before him, Louis had faintly listened to a girl behind him talk about the enchantments placed upon the ceiling. Apparently he wasn't the only one to have read Hogwarts: A History. Excellent. Maybe he'd talk to her later, although she'd have to slow down a bit. He didn't need to see the school's healer tonight, thanks.

For now though he stood before the entire school, students and staff alike, and stared at a stool which had a hat on it. A hat that had just sung from a tear in its brim. How odd.

He had to learn how to do that.

The woman that had lead them here, to the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall she had called herself, walked up a step onto a raised platform and grabbed a scroll that was resting beneath the hat on the stool. Unrolling it and leveling it close enough to read, she cleared her throat pointedly and rose her voice to speak.

"When I call your name, you will step forward and allow me to place the hat on your head to get sorted."

He felt the people around him fidget and twitch in their nervousness. Many of them looked pale and green with nerves. One kid was dancing on the balls of her feet, eyes darting rapidly from the professor to the hat, gnawing quite thoroughly at her lip. Another kid had his arms wrapped quite tightly around his middle and looked like he was going to cry. Louis felt sympathy for them, or rather empathy for he felt the exact same way.

He felt all eyes placed upon them and he knew that this was a moment that would seal a great deal of things to the people around them. This would set up not only their classes and roommates but what people thought of them. This would help determine their friends and beliefs, would guide them to where they needed to be. This moment would set their future because even though he didn't believe that everything was predetermined, he did believe that things were effected by single instances, that even the slightest change could, and would, change everything.

Slytherin made you a murderous dark wizard, Gryffindor a rash fool, Hufflepuff a weak tool, and Ravenclaw a cold nerd. Each House made you a freak.

He didn't want such a title again.

They had the weight of the world on their shoulders, even if it was just for a couple of seconds. He took a deep, silent sigh and released it through his nose.

"Abbott, Hannah."

A/N: I know the train scene was quite rushed but honestly I wasn't in the mood to write it, though it was needed, and I tried waiting to see if I gained any patience but it never occurred so . . . . Anyway, I have a surprise coming up for you guys in the next couple of chapters or so. It's nothing big but something a few of you have been curious about so there's that.

Last chance to get a word in about House. Please tell me what you guys prefer. Doesn't matter to me.

Please review!