"Firs' years! Firs' years!"

Harry walked toward the loud voice and saw the man who had taken him for his school shopping. Thinking back, he remembered that he had referred to himself as Hagrid.

Harry hadn't hesitated for long, but apparently, it was long enough for Ron to catch up. Harry jumped when his wrist was grabbed and the redhead dragged him towards the tremendous man.

Eventually, the man seemed to have gathered all of the children Harry and Ron's own age and began to lead them away from the train station. The sun had fully set minutes before the train pulled into the station, so they had a long walk through the forest in the dark. Just as Harry began to get restless and uneasy, the path came out of the forest onto the shore of a huge lake. A castle stood on the other shore, silhouetted against the starry sky, windows glowing with an inviting golden light.

Ron dragged Harry into a boat and two other children Harry hadn't met joined them. Ron didn't seem to know them either, and the boat ride across the lake was quiet as the four of them and every other child present drank in the castle and grounds.

When they reached the castle, they were led to an enormous dining hall in which students of varying ages sat at one of four tables, which table seemingly decided according to the colour of the trim on their robes. The adults sat at a large table at the front of the room. In front of that table was a stool, upon which sat a tattered hat.

After a moment, during which the students quieted down and all attention turned to the front of the room, a rip near the brim of the tattered hat opened up and a voice came out.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

"You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat,

And I can cap them all.

"There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

"You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are brave and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

"Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning

Will always find their kind;

"Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

"So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a thinking cap!"

The entire hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song, then Professor McGonagall began calling names from a scroll. She seemed to be going in alphabetical order by last name. He wasn't paying much attention until she got to the 'P's.

"Parkinson, Pansy."

A girl walked forward, head held high. The hat had barely touched her head before it shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

"Patil, Padma."

A girl broke from the line and walked. The hat was placed on her head. After a few seconds, it called out, "RAVENCLAW!"

The table with blue on their robes applauded as she joined them.

"Patil, Parvati."

This girl was identical to the one who had just been sorted. She took her place on the stool. After a second, the hat called out, "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Potter, Harry."

The entire hall quieted. Harry nervously walked to the stool. He had already known that he was much smaller than most children his own age. Were people whispering behind his back? He focussed on keeping his posture straight and his head up. The hat dropped over his eyes and he held his breath.

"Well, well, what have we here?" the hat's voice echoed within his mind. "Quite a difficult one, it would seem, with the courage of a Gryffindor, the loyalty of a Hufflepuff, the intelligence and desire for knowledge of a Ravenclaw, and the ambition and cunning of a Slytherin. Speaking of, you would do quite well in Slytherin, that is, if you wouldn't rather be somewhere else."

'Slytherin will likely be fine,' Harry thought, 'what was it you said? I'd find real friends there? That sounds like what I need.'

"Well, then, that's decided." And then to the room, "SLYTHERIN!"

Harry slipped off the stool and walked towards his new housemates. The hall was deathly silent for a moment before the Slytherins slowly began to applaud. Harry's eyes skipped along the table. He couldn't really tell who he should be friendly with, so he moved to the end. If someone wanted to talk to him, they could put in the effort. As he took his seat, his eyes caught one of the teachers watching him. The man's eyes and hair were dark, as were his robes. Something about him seemed to pull at Harry's soul. The rest of the ceremony passed quickly with Harry lost in the man's eyes. He didn't even notice when a boy sat next to him until he spoke.

"That's Professor Snape, our Head of House. He's pretty surly. You probably shouldn't stare at him. If you were thinking about having a crush on him, don't. He has a Soulmate. No one knows who it is, but he's incredibly loyal, whoever they are."

"Soulmate?" Harry asked.

"Do you not know about Soulmates?" The boy sounded horrified.

"I didn't ever have family who cared enough to teach me things and we never covered it in school."

The boy looked at him critically. "Raised by Muggles?"

"Yes, what has that got to do with anything?"

"Most of our housemates really hate Muggles. I would keep that a secret if I were you. As for Soulmates, Muggle schools wouldn't usually cover it until students are sixteen. It's less common for Muggles, so they don't find it as important. Basically, if you have a Soulmate, their preferred first and last name is tattooed somewhere on your body. Wixen also feel an almost physical pull for closeness when they are in close proximity to their Soulmate."

"So somewhere in the world, there is a person with my name tattooed somewhere on their body?" Harry wondered.

The boy simply shrugged. "There are also platonic Soulmates, which is much rarer. Their mark is the first words they will ever speak to you. Most people never get them, and even fewer people ever meet the one destined to speak them. The third type of mark is symbolic and applies to rivals. Only serious heroes and villains get them." Harry's mind wandered to the snake curled around a lightning bolt which matched his scar on his left shoulder blade. It had been there as long as the words Severus Prince on the sole of his right foot. Did that mean he had a rival? Was he a hero or a villain? How was he supposed to know the difference? Before he could get himself too worked up, the meal appeared. Everyone dug in and Harry's identity crisis took a back seat to the hunger that had been eating through his gut since he could remember.

Word count: 1,241

Hello, Strangers! This chapter took so long! Also, the water at my home has been out all week so I'm thirsty. I'm glad I made it past my mental blocks and finished this chapter.

All the love ,

Emmi

11/17/2020