Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
A/N: I'm ba-ack, with an early chapter to boot
A combination of free time and a sudden wave of inspiration meant it got finished early, and who am I to keep you lovely readers waiting?
This is the moment you have all been waiting for: Harry's journey to Hogwarts, and the beginning of the plot.
Enjoy. ;)
Chapter 4: Of Trains and Sorting Hats
Harry woke up at the crack of dawn. It was the day. He was heading to Hogwarts at long last, where he would finally learn to cast spells! Of course, he did know some spells, he just wasn't allowed to cast them.
He had brewed a collection of extremely potent potions, and had continued to work on his Animorphmagism, though he aimed to keep that, and his other Gifts, hidden, at least to those outside of his house. After all, the element of surprise was an advantageous one, one which would be particularly helpful towards his main plot.
But first, before he could conquer Britain as a whole, he would need to conquer Hogwarts. And what better place than his own house. He hoped it was Slytherin - it was the most Noble house, and would help with alliances.
He strode into Draco's room, where the younger boy was predictably asleep.
'Draco,' he hissed. Draco's eyes shot open. Bolting upright, he fell into a sort of mad dash throughout the manor, joining Harry in packing their bags, followed by eating their house-elf prepared breakfast.
'Alright, alright,' Lucius called down. 'You've got me up! What have I raised, a herd of Erumpants?' Looking abashed, the slightly younger boy calmed himself down, preparing for the exciting day ahead. As usual, Lucius refused to explain the contents of the sorting.
'It's tradition,' he would say. 'It's part of the process - you don't know what's coming.'
The boys soon found themselves on Platform 9¾, amazed by the trick wall entering a subspace, a small magical area removed from the muggle world. They were, however, slightly disappointed by the train. As glorious as it was, they were expecting something a bit more… magical. It was fleeting however, and they soon found a lovely compartment, separated and alone, but open enough that some possible acquaintances could be forged.
They sat there playing magical chess for a while, evenly matched and incredibly skilled, until other wizards began to trickle in. It was one of the things that father had taught them.
'Chess is a wizard's game,' he had said. 'Make no mistake about that. It is also a pureblood's game. It shows off your skill and strategy, and demonstrates your wit. It is also an enjoyable pastime, and can be used to start a new alliance.'
It was indeed. In fact, for a, ah, less educated pureblood, he would not even seem to be trying to entice them into an alliance. It would be subtle, more a demonstration of good will. Yet it was an opportunity nonetheless.
The first boy to chance into their apartment, seeking a lost toad, seemed a promising ally, at least for Harry (for the boy was of a light family), but he soon moved on. The first person to actually join them, however, would only ever be a superficial ally of Harry's, at best. For this boy, with his ginger hair and hand-me down clothes, was a Weasley.
The Malfoys and Weasleys had an ancestral hatred, begun through some long forgotten act and fuelled through centuries of revenge and retaliation. The boy, however, seemed willing to chance it - for he was greeting the legendary Boy-Who-Lived!
'I don't s'ppose I could share this apartment - everywhere else is full!' the boy said.
'No, I don't think so Weasley,' Draco sneered. 'Don't you recall our feud? Or have you forgotten the reason you're so poor?'
The boy started to go pink, and started to withdraw, so Harry interjected, putting on his new persona. 'Draco!' he reprimanded. 'And to think you're so polite at home. I think you should perhaps leave me and Weasley to think things over.'
Thankfully, Draco realised what was going on, and left with only superficial complaints. 'I'm terribly sorry about him. Even if our families hate each other's guts, it isn't right to force that blame onto someone you have never met. Oh, where are my manners? I haven't introduced myself yet! Harry Potter-Malfoy, at your service.'
'Harry Potter?' Weasley looked like he'd won the muggle lottery without even entering - amazed, but slightly sceptical.
'Potter-Malfoy,' Harry corrected.
'Oh sorry,' the boy said. 'I'm Ronald, Ron for short, by the way. Have you really got the, you know.'
Harry thought of his response. While he typically hid his dreadful scar with his newfound metamorphmagus abilities, he supposed he didn't want to inform others of his advantage. Willing it to reappear, and this time leaving it there, he showed the boy. 'Yeah, right here.'
Before Ron could reply, however, a bushy haired girl poked her head in. 'Your Harry Potter, aren't you? I've read all about you. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way.' As an afterthought she added. 'Oh, I wasn't eavesdropping, by the way. I just have very good hearing.'
Interesting, Harry thought. She was clearly a Mudblood. Perhaps she was from a long since squibbed-out line, for she was clearly a Hypermagus, having heard from the other end of the carriage. He invited her to join, for it would be good to be seen to have more 'Light-Orientated' beliefs. She declined, however. 'I'm helping a boy named Neville Longbottom find his toad,' she explained. Remembering the first boy, Harry filed away that potentially useful tidbit.
'So, Ronald,' Harry drawled. 'Fancy a game of chess?' And so the two settled into a casual round of chess. Ron was purely playing for fun, but Harry was not wasting the opportunity.
A pawn moved. Standard set up. Knight soon after. Trying to bait him in. Pawns lining up. A sacrifice for the upper hand. Soon, the game was decided. Ronald had won. Of course, Harry had not focussed completely upon the game, but it was impressive nonetheless.
The boy had not seemed the intelligent type, but he was clearly quite strategic, which did require brains. No, he clearly had potential, just an aptitude towards laziness. He also seemed quite ready to make sacrifices, and so might not be the most loyal of followers. Of course, the final assumption could be incorrect, but he had a feeling he was right.
Along the journey, a couple more boys joined them. Two half bloods, named Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. None knew anything about the sorting, though they figured he would join Gryffindor. 'The house of the Pure and Brave,' Ron explained.
Harry once again hoped secretly for Slytherin - not only was it advantageous, but almost all the Malfoys and Blacks had been there! One fact about his new companions, however, was the stubborn insistence to call him 'Potter', and not his full name. Perhaps it was due to his families 'Dark' Affiliation. They seemed to like him, however, fooled by his pleasant and polite demeanour, aimed towards the idea of him being some sort of Light Lord in waiting.
The rest of the journey was a neither dreadful nor particularly enjoyable; he discussed his 'personal' beliefs on Blood Status (Lying through his teeth, of course - it would do him no good having others find out this early), which they seemed awfully interested in - perhaps it was to do with being raised by the Malfoys? - and then settled into a game of Wizarding Chess with Ron.
By the end of the train ride, having changed into his Hogwarts robes, Harry reflected upon the meeting. While not the most beneficial allies, for even the pureblood wasn't really worth lowering himself to, it was helpful to create superficial friendships with them. It would, after all, help construct his image of a Muggle-loving Light Lord, disguising his true plans.
The boys left the train quickly, carrying their luggage. Harry had much less problem hauling his - it was in a single expanded leather suitcase with a featherweight charm, and his more dubious items - such as his potions and Peruvian Instant Darkness (Actually imported from Peru!) - hidden inside a secret compartment that required a password. After careful decision, it had been set to Vol de la mort - French for Flight of Death, and similar enough to Voldemort that many wouldn't think to try it.
The First years were separated from the other students by an oafish half-giant named Hagrid, and were taken across the Black Lake, staring up at the towering Hogwarts Castle. Brilliant stonemasonry, it was a work of art, but many students - including Harry - had no time to wonder at it, instead focussing upon the mysterious Sorting.
The bushy haired Hypermagus - Hermione, he recalled - seemed to think it would be an entry exam, and Ronald seemed to have gotten the strange idea that they had to fight a Troll! Apparently he had been told that by his older twin brothers, notorious pranksters, and so it was not taken seriously by anyone. Well, anyone except Ron. Harry, on the other hand, did not worry about the test per se - he worried about the results. For Harry's structured plan necessitated Slytherin, and so that was where he must go.
The First Years, about forty odd students, gathered in the atrium of the castle, now under the eye of Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor. Definitely not Gryffindor now, Harry thought. The woman reminded him of a cat - ever watchful - and his plan would surely fail under her care. He did not know whom the head of Slytherin was, but they would surely respect his plan and desire.
'First Year Students!' the elderly Professor called out. 'It is my pleasure and privilege to welcome you today, and to lead you into the Sorting. Do not be alarmed, it is not an exam, and it is definitely not a Troll, regardless of what a certain pair of twins have said.' Ron went pink. 'Now, if you will follow me.'
The doors to the great hall swung open, and the children feasted their eyes on the glory. Levitating candles, four great tables. Hoards of elder students - Harry could see Nymphadora in Hufflepuff (TONKS Harry thought - she hated her name) and a pair of ginger-haired twins in Gryffindor. At the head table, underneath the Slytherin banner, sat one of Lucius's friends - Severus Snape, Godfather of Draco. Ah, though Harry. Now he definitely wanted Slytherin.
An old hat and stool were brought out, much to the perplexity of the first years. And then, before their very eyes, it seems split, forming eyes and a mouth, and it burst out in song. It sang of the qualities of the houses, and its founders. It sang of Regal Bloodlines (surely aimed at Harry) and, to the perplection of many, it sang of an Uncle.
Not named, but Harry (and Draco, probably) recognised him - Merlin Emrys Ambrosius. It was not a well known fact, that the founders were his nieces and nephews, nor that Merlin was the son of Arthur himself, and the knowledge was known only to a few, the Malfoys being one of two in Britain to know the truth. Many, due to the complications of Time Travel, assumed Merlin to be simply a friend and adviser - of not just to the founders, but to their fathers and their father, Arthur Pendragon.
After it had finished its rendition to a round of polite applause, Professor McGonagall stood at the front of the room with a scroll. She began calling out names, and students had the hat placed upon their head. The hat, after varying periods of time, would then call out the name of a Student's new house. Harry supposed it must be having a mental conversation. He wondered if it would work for him, being an Occumagus.
A few notable names came up. The children of Crabbe and Goyle, two of Lucius's friends, were both sorted into Slytherin. Susan Bones, the daughter of a prominent ministry worker, was sorted into Hufflepuff. Seamus, Thomas and Neville were all quickly sorted into Gryffindor, much to their delight. No sooner had it been placed upon Draco's head had he been placed into Slytherin, and Hermione was placed into Gryffindor.
It was soon Harry's turn. 'Harry Potter,' was the name called out. After correcting the teacher, he placed the hat on, and felt an intrusive force. It was not malicious, he could feel, and clearly recognised his Gift of being an Occumagus. It seemed to be asking for permission, which he quickly gave.
Ah, an Occumagus AND a Telepath, a voice said.
Who are you, Harry thought back. He was careful to remain shielding his deeper thoughts, however, not knowing how reliable the voice was. After all, it was a disembodied voice floating inside his head.
Ho ho, boy, it said. Feisty, aren't you. I'm the Sorting Hat, and I'm here to Sort you. But first, you need to allow me to see your thoughts.
How do I know you won't report on my actions? There are some things I don't want the teachers to know.
Ho ho boy, the Hat said again. It's part of my enchantment - everything I see is confidential. In fact, I forget it immediately after I Sort you. It did sound true, and had a sort of reassuring resonance. After a long consideration, he lowered mental guard.
The Hat went silent, as if scanning through his thoughts. Well, it said at last. This plan of yours, restoring the world to the time of my stitching. Not very honourable, but oh so very cunning and manipulative. And you are very intelligent. Brave, too. And I mustn't forget your connection to Gryffindor and …
Here the Hat was interrupted with a sort of gagging sound. Sorry boy, it seems you don't know that yet. Anyway, you seem very brave and noble.
No, No! thought Harry, Panicking. Not Gryffindor, my plan will fail there!
Not very trusting of my judgement, eh? The hat replied, amused. Well you certainly are NOT a Hufflepuff. You have the brains for Ravenclaw…
No! Harry cut in. I MUST go to Slytherin. My plan depends on it.
Why did you bother coming if you wouldn't let me sort you myself? The Hat sounded like it was sulking. Well, if you're certain, it better be SLYTHERIN! The final word was announced out loud, followed by a sudden hush. It seemed that the majority believed he would be going to Gryffindor. Oh well.
The hush did not last long, with cheering erupting from the table of Snakes, and polite clapping from the rest. And, not that anyone noticed, Snape actually smiled. And not his cruel smile - a genuine, happy smile! But, as everyone was focused upon Harry, there was no-one to glimpse the rare sight, soon returning to the typical scowl that dominated his face.
Harry sat down between Draco and Goyle, with a couple of Pureblood girls opposite. They continued to watch the Sorting, with Ronald being placed with the rest of his family in Gryffindor.
'May I have your attention,' an elderly man stood up, calling for attention. Dumbledore, Harry realised. Likely to be his eventual staunch opposition, he needed to curry favour, and fast - as senile as he was, he was an exceptionally powerful wizard. 'As usual, the Forbidden Forest is forbidden ('Yes that includes you, Weasleys' he added at the affronted looks of the Twins) and Filch has a list of banned items. This year, however, the third floor corridor is also out of bounds. Now, I'd like to say a few final words: Bobble, flimble, squeak!' As he said that, he raised his hands above him, and the magically prepared food appeared, and the students began to dig in.
'Merlin's beard!' Draco said. 'The man's a nutter!' Harry nodded in agreement. The man was clearly unfit for the role as Headmaster.
'You say that,' the girl directly opposite him said. 'But he is an incredibly wise wizard, albeit muggle-loving, and could be doing it to cause people to underestimate him.'
Harry thought about that. 'That's actually pretty likely,' he conceded. He stretched his hand across in greeting, smiling. 'Harry Potter-Malfoy, pleasure making your acquaintance.'
'Daphne Greengrass,' she replied, taking his hand and returning the smile. 'Of course, Master Potter-Malfoy, we already know who you are.'
Harry smirked. 'Glad my reputation precedes me. And Miss Greengrass, call me Harry.'
'If you would be so kind to return the favour,' she said, smirking back.
Harry and Daphne engaged in conversation for the rest of the evening. Harry corrected a few common misnomers with the tale of the Boy-Who-Lived, and the two discussed multiple forms of misdirection, such as Dumbledore's senility. He was introduced to her two companions, Pansy Parkinson, a Pureblood, and Tracey Davis, a Half-blood. He did not broach the topic of his plan, however, nor anything to do with Blood Status. He would rather save that for the common room, whence there would only be supporters of neutral parties.
He learnt the employment of his Birth parents, James Potter being an Auror and Lily Potter being a Spellcrafter, and learnt the employment of his new acquaintances' parents. Tracey understandably did not refer to her muggle father, she explained how her mother was a journalist for the Daily Prophet.
The Parkinsons followed a family trade and reared Pegasi, much to the delight of Daphne and Tracey. The Greengrasses also had a family trade, but it was monitored only by her mother: growing herbal potion ingredients. It sounded a fascinating line of employment, but it seemed Daphne's father preferred the verbal games of the Wizengamot - he was the head of the Grey Faction as the Nott Patriarch was head of the Dark Faction, with Dumbledore predictably head of the Light Faction. As such, this could turn out to be a very beneficial friendship.
Soon after, they made their way to the Slytherin common room in the dungeons, where Harry would enact the first part of his plan.
A/N: And that's a wrap!
Harry Potter, a Slytherin? Who would have guessed? Probably all of you, from his plan and the cover art! :D
So, how do you like Harry's interactions with the other students? I have tried to make him seem more mature and enigmatic, so I hope that shows.
If I have said it once, I will say it again: please review! Reviews are how I can grow as an author, and tailor the story to you, my lovely readers!
On a separate note, I have a new story coming up soon! I don't know exactly when I will put it up, by I have started a new story. It is a crossover between Harry Potter and Percy Jackson, set during GOF. It will, of course, follow the Triwizard Tournament, but will also have a couple of other main plots running through it. I have tried to make it unique, so I hope you guys will enjoy. It will be up sometime in the next two weeks, so if you are interested, keep an eye out!
So long, and I'll see you next time! By-ye! :)