OUROBOROS RISING
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Naruto, just this story.
Summary: By some kind of sheer dumb coincidence, the Sorting Hat discovers something much, much more terrifying than fragment of Voldemort's soul while Sorting one Harry James Potter.
Shout Out: Well, yes, another oneshot. It tickled in my brain, so I just had to get it out. This is only a part, which I hope I will someday write out in a whole story. Basically, Orochimaru was destroyed by Naruto's Sage chakra, but by some kind of a sheer dumb luck, he survived and was transported in Harry's universe. And it's just Harry's luck that Orochimaru wants to 'hike a ride' in his body!
Warnings: Disturbing imagery, hints of SLASH, this time Orochimaru/Harry – yes, yes, I know, I am off my rocker, and torturing of certain Sorting Hat, named Rupert.
Men are not prisoners of fate, but prisoners of their own minds.
~Franklin D. Roosevelt
Mind is the last known territory yet not explored and discussed by scientists. All of them agree that mind is a complex matter – even more complex as the most advanced computers. Even id mind doesn't have the speed and precision with which to calculate impossible odds at the drop of hat – excuse the pun - somehow, a human's mind can calculate the probabilities, outcomes and failures' rates by some kind of different means that computers would.
When someone is in a grave danger and later on, when he rescues himself out of the danger, people ask him how he had done that – but he would helplessly shrug and answer. "I don't know. I just did it." He didn't need to be a renowned mathematician or physician or anything to save himself, because sheer need for survival kicked his mind in higher gear in attempt to get him out of the situation alive.
Some say it is a case of sheer dumb luck. Maybe they are right. But those disbelievers forget the power of the mind. One mind can change the whole flow of fate, leading it down the drain, and coming up with an unexpected solution.
Two minds...What would be the repercussions of having two minds together – at all times, day and night, all year around?
Normal people often disregard mind, except when it came to scholastic and occult needs. But we won't be nitpicking about normal people. No, in fact, we will be nitpicking at abnormal, people, who call themselves witches and wizards.
You see, mind is a complicated, even more so with those... abnormal people. If normal human's mind is an equivalent of a hand grenade – figuratively speaking, of course,- a wizard's mind is an equivalent of an atomic bomb. Normal human's mind - or, as the wizards are so fond of saying, a muggle's mind is not dangerous. Well, there were mass-murderers, insane scientists, crazy leaders, but we digress. However, if we apply those traits on a wizard – a disaster is almost guaranteed to happen. You see, when wizards are young, or in extreme state of distress, their innate magic reacts – and depending on the amount of the magic they have, those disasters can be amusing or extremely disastrous. So much about safety in the wizarding world, no?
Back to the exploration of the mind. Even if we mentioned that nobody could truly scope out the workings of a mind, something came close to it.
And that something... was a hat. A Sorting Hat, to be precise.
Sorting Hat, or shortly, Hat – or Rupert, if you asked him for a name – had, in his long life, sorted many minds – dull, bright, observant, obsessive, naive – you name it, he had seen, and Sorted – 'em all.
There wasn't many things that could surprise the old boy nowadays.
However, this year, he was in for a very rude surprise.
When the witch – McGonagall, was it? - called out 'Potter, Harry', the Sorting Hat was intrigued. Well, it wasn't any day he would Sort the Saviour of the wizarding world, no? And even he was curious just how the mind of this particular boy worked. His parents were bright ones – Lily should have been Sorted into Ravenclaw, even if he briefly contemplated putting her in Hufflepuff, just for the heck of it. But the clever girl managed to con him into Sorting her into Gryffindor. Rupert was satisfied with his choice for her, although he later regretted it, if only because of a lonely little boy, named Severus Snape. Ah, that one was a Slytherin as far as one could go, even if he should have been Sorted either in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. Honestly, the boy had such a potential...
And of course, James Potter. The boy was mischievous prankster menace, devoted to his friends, and courageous to a fault, even if he wasn't one for studying very much. His sheer brilliance in Transfiguration would have lauded him as a next Transfiguration Master after Minerva McGonagall, but alas, it wasn't fated to be. Though, the boy also had mean streak a mile wide, and for that, Rupert briefly contemplated about Sorting the boy into Slytherin, but that would mean making waves and it was better to have boy Sorted on safe side rather than not.
And now, one Harry James Potter would be a treat. An offspring of such brilliant people... Rupert was honestly curious just which traits the boy inherited from his parents.
Would he be a Gryffindor, brining with courage and justice?
Would he be a Hufflepuff, loyal to the end and hardworking?
Would he be a Ravenclaw, studious, pursuing the knowledge for knowledge's sake and chasing the ideals?
Or would he be a Slytherin, cunning, ambitious little snake that would gain and hoard his precious things and people close, ready at the moment's notice to turn on the ally if needed be?
As soon as he was put on the boy's head, Rupert delved onto the boy's mind. The sensation was like someone would twist him around, before suddenly straightening him out. It was disconcerting, but he was used to it... Mostly.
He didn't have any shape – if he had to describe himself, he was like a cloth. You put the cloth on an invisible thing and person, and then, you can see the lines of the covered item or person. It was a very rudimentary technique, but it was still better than those muggle tests.
Rupert frowned. This boy was an enigma. He could enter his mind easily, but what he found here, it sincerely baffled and disturbed him. Instead of vibrant colours, there was gray, white and black. Usually, the colours would have been vibrant, in the shades of rainbow, with dominant blue, green, yellow or red colours. Rupert Sorted the kids by discerning the amount of colours in those mindscapes. Those with mostly red colours were Gryffindors. Blue were Ravenclaws. Yellow were Hufflepuffs, and green stood for Slytherins.
But this kid... Rupert frowned. It was, as if the kid was colour blind. Everywhere he turned, there were grey, white and black. It was as if someone had wiped out his personality and replaced it with some kind of a blank slate.
This boded investigation.
Rupert allowed himself to dissimulate into the boy's mind-scape, gently nudging and tugging, coaxing the colour to change, and in process, viewing the boy's memories.
'Hmmm...' Rupert blinked. Well, the boy was clearly a Hufflepuff for his hardworking ways, but he was quite a sponge for knowledge. Rowena would have been delighted to teach him, there was no doubt.
He wandered further into the mind, just to be sure, or better, for the heck of it – Harry's mind was curiously shaped and he wondered just what had changed the boy to such a degree –
- When suddenly, his mental fingers were clutched in a vice – like grip of steel, making him yelp with pain.
"Well, well, well... what do we have there?" A silky voice purred into his 'mind', making the Hat stiffen with dread.
"W – Who are you?" the Hat asked, trying to turn around. The presence chuckled, making Rupert shiver at the sound of the malevolent voice.
"No one. The true question in... what are YOU doing in my container's mind?"
If hats could pale, this one would have. The man's - he had to be a man – sheer brilliance and the atrocities he had done were on par – no, thy surpassed Riddle's by far. This – this man, being, whatever - could make Salazar outright bawl with jealously at his cunning, and Rowena would have worshipped him for his knowledge. However, Gryffindor would have opposed to his less than honest dealings with fellow humans, and Helga, while she would have admired his hard work, she would have shunned his disloyalty to his friends.
"Who are you? What are you?" the Hat asked shakily once again, appalled at the ... monster.
Briefly, he saw yellow eyes. The shade made a humming sound. "I believe I asked first... " The man said silkily. "Why do you need to dig where you are clearly unwanted, you Yamanaka reject?"
The Hat made a pained sound as the shade squeezed him harder. "I – I have to Sort the boy!" He wheezed out, shaking in the shade's grip.
"Sort?" The shade asked mildly. "So you traipse around my container's mind, feeding your curiosity only to bellow out to which House he belongs?" Saying that, he poked the Hat sharply, making it wince.
"It – it's a tradition!" The Hat – Rupert – quickly defended. "I was made for that purpose so – "
"Hmm-mm." The shade agreed noncommittally. "And for what purpose? What are the benefits of that ridiculous ceremony?"
The Hat tried to jerk out of the shade's grasp. "It's for kids! So that they would reach their maximum potential – "
The shade yanked a part of him. "Hoo? So brave have to be suicidal, loyal ones will be fanatic, those who search for knowledge will be delusional, and - well, the only ones who are marginally normal, would be cunning ones. " He commented flippantly. "Tell me, Hat, what do you intend to do with memories you have seen?"
Rupert blinked. "Well, yes – " He began hesitantly.
"Have you reached your decision?" A new voice entered the conversation. This voice was young, but scratchy, as if it's owner rarely used it. "They are becoming restless, Sir."
"Not until he tells us what he intends to do with memories he had seen." The shade volleyed back flippantly.
"Harry?" Rupert asked quietly. "Where have you been? Where are you?" He tried to look around for the origin of that young voice, but with no avail.
He screamed at the white – hot pain the shade inflicted on him. "You have no right to ask him that," The shade told him with cold voice. "You are trespasser here. Now, answer!"
"N – N – Nothing!" The Hat squeaked out."The – F – Founders enchanted me with secrecy charms!"
There was a tense pause, when he was quivering in the shade's grasp, attempting to nurse the damaged parts. The pain was like nothing he had ever felt but then, he was only dealing with minds of children, and those were relatively unprotected.
But this... Harry Potter... His defences were unique.
"I believe he is speaking the truth, Master," The boy's monotone voice spoke out again, making the Hat simultaneously perk up in hope and recoil in horror.
This – this thing was Harry's Master - !
No. It couldn't be.
No, no, no, no.
The Hat shuddered at the implications.
"Very well..." The shade spoke up again. "However, if you tell anyone of what happened here..." Yellow eyes glinted, and the Hat froze like a rabbit caught in Lumos.
The pressure was incredibly heavy, like an oily sludge that paralyzed him.
"I – I won't!" He managed to choke out. "I – I swear!"
The shade hummed. "Then Sort us."
Rupert the Hat gulped at the order.
He sighed, resigned. "Before I Sort you two, I would like to... know something," He addressed the shade bravely.
"Kukuku... You are very brave, to demand something like that of me..." The shade voiced a creepy chuckle.
"So... Ask away."
The Hat paused. "You...What is your name?"
There was a pause.
The shade sneered. "Very well...My name is Orochimaru. Now begone out of our mind!"
With that, the Hat was unceremoniously pushed back into bland landscape.
Rupert sighed. To Sort the boy, who was, in some aspects, practically tabula rasa and... This monster... He gulped.
Gryffindors would be slaughtered.
Slytherins... let's not even get there.
Hufflepuffs... No. Just... No.
Dread settled in Rupert's nonexistent stomach. When he concluded what he was about to declare.
Choosing the lesser evil – or was it the greater one in the long run? – Never felt such dismaying of an experience.
'Creators, forgive me for what I am about to do...' He thought to himself silently.
And then, the flap opened.
"RAVENCLAW!"
The last he heard before he was lifted off of the boy's head was "Excellent." The man purred out, chuckling with delight.
The Hall was stumped for a moment, before Ravenclaw table erupted in excited cheers.
The Hat could only watch the small, slender boy sit among his new housemates and praying that someone – or something – would keep the little fledglings safe from the snake in their midst.
/To Be Continued./