Help Will Always Be Given
A/N Hello and thank you for clicking. This is an idea I had that I am currently working on. It is also my first real attempt at writing outside and educational setting, so all criticism is welcome. I hope you enjoy and take care. Of course, I do not own Harry Potter and am simply playing with the world of J.K. Rowling's creation.
Chapter 1: A Different Sort
Minerva once again looked at the list of first year names and mentally breathed a sigh of relief. Despite there being four children listed in the registry with the name Potter, only the expected number of children had shown up sans the unusual Potter entries, but as the children each came up to be sorted, the expected messy dark hair, glasses and green eyes was no where to be seen. The apparent lack of the Boy-Who-Lived was being noticed by those at the house tables and the staff table.
Albus Dumbledore himself briefly showed a frown at the developing circumstances. Prior to the welcoming feast, he had checked the blood trackers he placed on the boy though they were acting oddly at times, they did confirm the boy was healthy and was here at the castle. Perhaps there was an explanation? Perhaps the Dursleys in their love and caring for the boy had provided a disguise? Yes, that must be it. Finally, the name that everyone was anticipating was called,
"POTTER, HARRY."
Minerva glanced up from the sheet expecting to see movement among the few remaining first years, but there was not. One of the students seemed to be shifting in their seat uncomfortably, a tall girl with black hair, but no one else moved. The silence in the great hall was deafening. Once again she called,
"POTTER, HARRY."
This time however, the same girl that was shifting uncomfortably in her seat stood up and began walking to the front of the room where the Sorting Hat was placed. The Great Hall began whispering in confusion wondering why a random girl had stood up to that name. Minerva was about ready to question the girl herself when something occurred that her eyes could not believe. She was starting to wonder whether someone had spiked her tea earlier when the tall girl with the black hair shifted into a shorter boy with green eyes and messy black hair. The boy reached into his pocket and began putting on a pair of glasses as he reached the front of the room. By this point the Great Hall had been stunned into silence only to erupt in questions and shouts of confusion. Two redheaded boys at the Gryffindor table soon started guffawing in laughter and the words of "Already a master prankster" and "Not even here an hour and he pranked the entire staff!" The boy himself had just reached the front and raised his hand to the elder professor.
"Hello Professor, my name is Harry Potter."
Minerva, shaken out of her confusion by being addressed, looked at the boy, shook his hand and said, "Hello Mr. Potter, as stated I am Professor Minerva McGonagall," she then adopted a hard look and said, "I do not appreciate pranks Mr. Potter, especially during the sorting ceremony."
The boy looked to the side and began staring off into space, if she didn't know better, she would think the boy was having a conversating inside his head.
Snapping back into lucidity, Harry replied, "My apologies Professor, I do believe I have something I need to disclose…"
Minerva, already annoyed at the gumption of this child, raised her hand, "Very well Mr. Potter, but I believe that can wait till after the welcoming feast and there will be no more funny business, understand?"
Harry simply nodded and took his seat on the stool. The old, tattered hat soon followed onto his head.
"That was an impressive bit of magic there boy. How did you do it? Family charm? A potion? You wouldn't happen to be a metamorphmagus would you?"
What the hat did not expect was the sound of sarcastic girl to answer.
"And what business is it of yours," the girl demanded, "you enter our head and begin demanding answers! Why should I not have myself and the others throw you out?"
The Hat in his long tenure had some very interesting conversations and had sorted many different personalities. One universal constant however, was that there was always him and the student. No one else. Yet despite that, there was distinctly two voices…no there were more. This was going to be an interesting sort.
"Calm down Iris, I expect this hat reads the mind of the student to determine personalities and ambitions in order to sort them properly," another female voice called out, except this one was not laced with sarcasm and instead had an edge of curiosity mixed into it."
"You may be right Jasmine, but I do not like the prospect of magical artifacts that can read minds. Privacy is a sacred thing and the mind should be a refuge for us, not something that an artifact can tear into," this time a burly male voice answered.
"Guys, please, we've already seen this process with the others. It should be safe. Certainly it is better than fighting a troll like Ron was talking about," yet another male voice replied, but this one had a voice of awe and wonder along with an underlying suspicion laced into it.
The Hat, finally done processing what was going on and getting slightly annoyed at the hints against his noble fabric asked the obvious question, "Who are you and just what is going on?"
"My name is Harry Potter." The last voice to speak spoke first. Its voice spoke of underlying bravery.
"My name is John Potter," The other male voice spat out, clearly still upset about the invasion of the mind.
"My name is Iris Potter," the first female voice that spoke sneered out.
"And my name is Jasmine Potter," the final voice replied with a hint of exasperation, hopefully at the other's antics and not at the Hat.
"In all my many MANY years of sorting, I have not had multiple voices speak to me from one student. Why is it that I am sitting on the head of one Harry Potter, yet there are three other voices in here?"
Jasmine was quick to answer, "It turns out that we have what muggles call Split-Personality Disorder. At least to an extent. We all live in one body, but we each draw different conclusions, different opinions, have different strengths and weaknesses."
Iris spoke up next, "That however does not mean we are crazy! We work together. It was a necessity. When a 5-year-old is getting the snot beaten out of him by his family you find some way to cope! We all work together to help each other, and we usually don't fight. We've been doing this for quite a few years now."
John added, "What we learned growing up and were very confused by was that our body would subtly shift to whichever personality was currently driving, as we call it. We had to take great measures to hide this lest we be beaten further for being a freak or get shipped off somewhere to be used as a guinea pig. Fortunately the changes were not very noticeable as we were growing up, but much more recently our entire body shifts to the driving identity."
Harry finished, "Receiving our Hogwarts letter was both the scariest thing in our lives and the best. At that point we had told no one the names of our alternatives, so to have letters flooding our house addressed to Harry, Jasmine, John and Iris was heart pounding. It also gave an explanation as to why we shift physically with the change of identity. Of course, I did not expect that answer to be magic, but it seemed to fit. We all even use different wands based on who is driving at the time."
If the Hat could slowly blink, it would have been the slowest blink that spoke volumes about the confusions that a hat should not be feeling at all.
"This is different, very very different. Normally my job is to look into a child's memories and personalities to determine which house would best serve them in the future, but I cannot do that with 4 separate identities. I also get the impression that the four of you are very different. You said that one of you drives at the time. May I have a moment with Harry to determine his house?"
The Hat got a vague sense of a conversation occurring before a muffled sense of agreement flooded through the four identities.
"On one condition, do you reveal anything you find here to anyone?" John asked.
"Despite my earlier question, that was merely curiosity, I will not and can not reveal anything I find within a child's mind. My only job is to determine which house a child belongs to," Hat replied earnestly.
"Very well, all three will take our leave, but we will be close by. Harry is that alright?"
"It's ok guys, I'll meet you later," Harry replied smothering the little bit of fear he had about being alone.
The Hat got a sense of the others leaving. They were still there, but it seemed as though Harry was now in the "driver's seat" as they referred it.
Now that the mind was clear, Hat got a better sense of the boy and what exactly caused him to develop his….identities. Images of beatings by a large, whale of a man, being tied up and beaten with a frying pan, hiding in bushes from packs of boys. Trying to tend burns on his hands from cooking large meals. Feelings of many injuries, starvation, bugs crawling across a small body in a small, dark room, sadness, loneliness and finally a voice reaching out to him. Within his own mind and his magic. Trying to comfort, trying to ease and help the boy. One voice started but two more were born to help this boy deal with things no little boy should have to deal with. With the voices help, Harry grew. Growing more agile, brave, confident. Though he was never able to develop relationships with other children, he still stood up for them only to be cast aside by his differences due to sharing a mind. That did not stop him from working on his bravery, from trying to save people from abuse he faced every day.
The hat was frankly disgusted and amazed at what he saw. The boy….Harry defended people and worked with his identities to do so. It was amazing and it made the choice all the clearer for the Hat.
By this point, people were staring at Harry Potter. It was clear that he was a hat stall. The Hat itself seemed to go through many different expressions though it was hard to tell due to the fact that the wrinkles on Hat may constitute a face, it was still difficult to determine many expressions. Finally, Hat straightened up, ironing out the wrinkles it normally displayed and bellowed,
"GRYFFINDOR!"
The Great Hall exploded with sounds of joy and some booing students, though the loudest support originated from the table to the right with the other red-trimmed robed students. The same two-red headed students were happy to pronounce, "We got Potter," to anyone and everyone. Harry's robes changed to the red-trimmed line with the Gryffindor badge proudly displayed as he walked over to the table.
Minerva had to shoot a cannon charm into the air in order to calm everyone down and continue the sorting. She once again looked down at the sheet in front of her and immediately her frow burrowed. There must still be some mistake because the other Potter students were still listed on the sheet, but there were three less students waiting to be sorted than there should be. Regardless she had a duty to say all names and if they did not show, then she and the Headmaster could work to find out where the mistake had occurred. She once again cleared her throat and yelled,
"POTTER, IRIS"
The table at Gryffindor, still excited about receiving the Boy-Who-Lived barely batted an eye at the proclamation assuming that someone had the same last name, probably a muggle-born. What they did not expect was Harry to stand up again and begin walking back to the front table.
Most were again confused and thought this was the continuation of a prank that had overstayed its welcome. One greasy-haired individual did not bother to hide the look of disdain at the approaching boy. Before he, Minerva or anyone else could question this, Ron's voice, full of annoyance, cried out. "Harry! Where are you going, whoever this Iris girl is, she ain't here!"
Harry stopped briefly for a moment, his shoulder slumping slightly before he changed again. What replaced him was the same girl from before, with dark, long hair, who was taller than Harry and had taken off the glasses. She immediately straightened out and turned around to look at the red-haired boy. The previously adorned Gryffindor robes shifted back to the standard black as if Harry had not been sorted at all. The entire Great Hall, most of who had been watching, were once again dumbfounded. Most jaws were hanging so low, the mail owls could use them as nesting perches.
A distinctly feminine voice replied, "Come now Mr. Weasley, surely your vision is not so bad as to deny my presence right in front of you?" Her tone was dripping in authority and sarcasm.
Normally such an insult would cause Ron to come out swinging with some terrible attempt at an comeback that would have inevitably lead him to scrubbing chamber pots in the evening, but the sudden shock of seeing a boy turn into a girl that looked completely different had, like everyone else, shocked him into silence. The only similarity it seemed was the lightening bolt scar that still adorned Iris's forehead, not that anyone could see it past her long locks of hair.
Iris walked up to the front of the hall and reached out her hand to Minerva, "Hello Professor, my name is Iris Potter."
Of course, Minerva, having been dealt another shock, found herself more annoyed at this clear attempt to undermine the sorting ceremony, "Mr. Potter, what is the meaning of this? You will return to your table at once, undue what spell you have place on yourself and I will have 50 points from Gryffindor and a week of detentions for disrupting the sorting ceremony!"
She shot Iris a look so vicious that it would make a troll coo to obey the proclamation. What she did not anticipate was that Iris had been dealing with withering looks that threatened punishment for most of her life and was thus far unimpressed with a so-called professor dishing out punishments without learning all the facts.
"Excuse me Professor, but my name has been called and I am here to be sorted. I do not recall you punishing the other students for following instructions," she replied. The other three could not stop her from bringing down further ire and so just groaned. Iris responded by curling her face tight and sending messages of punishment if they didn't quiet down.
This exchange, however, was lost on Minerva who was starting to see red at being so openly defied in the front of all the students.
Snape then took this opportunity to make his own grimace known, "I told you Minerva, Potter would be trouble, just like his father," the last word was said with such a sneer that it would have curdled all the milk in a fifty foot radius.
"I am beginning to see you are right, Severus, that will be an additional fifty points from Gryffindor and an additional week of detention!" Minerva returned her glare to the still non-reacting girl standing in front of her.
At this, the older Gryffindor students turned to the large hourglass in the corner of the room that displayed the house points. Most were rather peeved off at Harry for costing them such a lead of the House Cup, but when they turned the hourglass was unchanged. All indicators showed straight zeroes as if no punishment was issued. When Minerva herself noticed the sounds of confusion and directed her own gaze to the back corner, she saw that no changes were made. While she was mentally digesting this new information, Iris spoke up, "Professor, I believe when issuing a punishment, you must do it in the presence of the offending party. Since Harry Potter is not here, your punishments did not do anything."
Minerva was about to demand an explanation on how a first year tampered with the hourglass within the first hour of being admitted when another voiced boomed behind her.
"SILENCE"
Dumbledore, being the one who usually proclaims silence was himself shocked at this and turned down the staff table to see who had yelled with such authority. When the others returned the looks of confusion, their eyes snapped forward to Hat, still sitting on the customary stool.
"Minerva, I do realize Gryffindor courage causes you to act without thinking, but if you bring Ms. Potter up here, I'm sure all will be revealed momentarily," Hat said this with the authority of a parent addressing a small child and it finally got the Professor to allow Ms. Potter up to the stand where she placed the hat on her head.
Hat, clearly amused at all the stunned expressions, addressed his newest charge, "My apologies for not intervening sooner, but I did have a good laugh at the looks of confusion on everyone. Haven't seen such a sight in a long time."
"Can it Hat, I don't like being the butt of a joke. Especially in this situation. I recognize its not normal, but I'd rather not have a target burned on my back as you just did for your own entertainment!"
Hat would have displayed shocked and a little fear if possible, having just dressed down the sternest witch in the school for the past years, then finding itself being dressed down by an 11-year-old and with startling effectiveness.
"Ah yes, sorry, it does get boring having to sit up on a shelf all year. I like to take my chances when I can. Now let me just do the sorting and we can all move on."
Images once again flooded Hat's whatever-passed-for-a-mind. It saw a girl of pride and cunning, sharpening metal prods to loosen the lock that trapped the young child. Sneaking out in the dead of night to steal food, but not so much as to be noticed. A girl who taught herself facial expressions to barter sympathy with principles, teachers, police, other children and that horrible family. Tests and exams were faked to avoid showing intelligence and bringing additional ire to her. Hat saw plans made to avoid groups of bullies that would hound her constantly, as well as subtle plots to draw attention to the side that those muggles attempted to cover up. A fake limp, purposely torn clothing to show bruises, certain choices of words dropped to arouse suspicion. None of it working to the extent of granting the young child freedom, but the lack of success never stopping the child from working out more and more ideas and plans. Some worked out, buying the child a large meal or new clothes. Others landing the child in trouble that resulted in starvation and more bruises, but never did the cunning die. A mistake was made once, never twice.
Hat saw all of this and saw the workings of a cunning Slytherin. Not the lot that he had just seen, where dubious intentions and upbringings of false superiority bought their way into the house of the cunning, no this child displayed the characteristics of a true Slytherin. Decision made, Hat bellowed,
"SLYTHERIN!"
This time however, the Great Hall was silent. No applause, no cheering or booing, just silence. Just more open mouths. Iris took the opportunity to go to the far left table and take a vacant seat. Her robes clearly displaying the insignia of Slytherin along with the jade-green robes. Before the Gryffindor table could issue an objection or call foul play. Minerva shook herself out of her stupor and called the next name, only grimacing slightly at the thought of what might occur.
"POTTER, JASMINE"
Just like before, Iris stood up and began walking to the front of the hall and once again, about halfway there, transformed into a shorter girl with auburn-hair, shorter than Iris but equal to Harry. She took out a hair tie from her pocket and began tying it into a simple pig tail. Once again, her robes turned back to being black with no insignia. Everyone was staring at this, but most were still trying to determine what was really going on. The staff were beginning to realize that this really was not a joke as a metamorphagus would be unable to be called more than once and have such a radically different personality as to warrant switching to another house. Any potion or charm would be unable to hide to the Sorting Hat changes so drastic that it would warrant a new house.
Ignoring the guffaws of the staff and students, but enjoying the chance to take in everything and anything, Jasmine's head swivelled from the large banners, to the enchanted ceiling, to the floating candles. She glanced up at the staff table, glad to be able to identify most of them from her study of Hogwarts: A History as well as some introductory materials she was able to buy from Flourish & Blotts. While she was able to observe what was going on at all times, the others never really focused on the details as much as she liked and memories always did not have that perfect recollection that she tried to achieve. Making her way up to the head table, she took the initiative the others did and raised her hand to the now thoroughly confused Minerva McGonagall.
"Hello Professor, my name is Jasmine Potter."
"Yes, uh, hello, I'm Professor McGonagall. I believe you know the procedure by now."
"That I do Professor, I was watching intently the previous two times."
The last comment only served to confuse Minerva even more and she began really relishing the bottle of firewhiskey she had stored back in her office. She was even debating about having a house-elf deliver it down to her seeing as her spiking her tea would probably be overshadowed by the enigma that was Potter, or should she say Potters.
Jasmine walked up the steps intently observing the Sorting Hat as if she could take it apart with her eyes. She held it up in her hands, swirling it around to look at it from every angle, completely ignorant to the increasing wrinkles coming from Hat.
"Ms. Potter, I believe the purpose of a hat is to be worn, not spun around."
Slightly chastised, she took her seat and placed Hat on her head.
"I do not appreciate being spun around like some undignified hat, I am a sensitive piece of headwear, you know," Hat tried to put some venom in its words but failed as he began to get pieces of information from his newest bearer.
"My apologies Hat, I have not ever encountered something like you and I felt obliged to try and satisfy some curiosity."
"Curiosity, eh? Well I have an inkling where you will be going. Let me make sure though…"
Once again images flashed to Hat, showing a tale similar to the other Potters, but with different situations. Hours spent in the library looking at varying topics. Social behaviours, electronics, biology, physics, mathematics, law, and some fiction. Sometimes the desire to learn was there simply to learn, other times it was coping for pangs of hunger and the after effects of beatings. Images of rooting through dumpsters or taking broken gadgets to make tools to help survive. A night light to read in the darkness of the cupboard, a heater to warm up small tins of water and bullion cubes, a stethoscope to listen outside the walls of her small room. Tools made, broken, made again and hidden all in the hopes of getting a meal and to keep learning despite being in such a stifling environment. Hat saw the girl discover this Split-Personality Disorder and a new understanding was made between all four. They were not freaks. Different, undoubtedly, but not freaks and from then on the so-common used word did not sting as it used to. Hat also saw the many books on social behaviour. It was her, with cold logic and reasoning that began breaking down Harry's shell. The shell that thought he deserved the punishments, that he was nothing more than a freak. It was a job that was ongoing, but it started with the determination and curiosity of Jasmine. This pushed her farther to discover the reason behind other such odd circumstances and despite a lack of explanations, that thirst for knowledge did not die, instead devouring more books, more theories and more avenues of exploration.
Once again, Hat made his choice,
"RAVENCLAW!"
By this point, the Great Hall was starting to get over the shock and demands of an explanation began to be heard. Jasmine did her best to ignore this as the shouting began increasing in volume. All the students and staff were hoping that Harry would pop out of whatever magic he did and shout "Ha Ha good joke!" There was no joke to be had however as Jasmine took her seat, now sporting the insignia of Ravenclaw along with her blue-trimmed robes. The group nearest to Jasmine began to question her before one last name was shouted.
Minerva, after a quick prompting from Albus, with promises to get some answers later, shouted with only a hint of worry,
"POTTER, JOHN."
Jasmine stood up and just like Harry and Iris did before began walking forward to the front hall, shifting to a tall boy with chestnut-brown hair. The boy clearly had some strength to him despite being so young. The robes seemed a little tighter on him than they did on the two girls and one boy previously wearing them. John took a moment to undo the pig tail on his hair before letting it fall back. It was not messy like Harry's hair, but was combed off to one side and with an average length.
John walked with determination. His back straight and his stride long, he moved forward with a confidence and determination, but not in a manner of smugness that Iris tended to display. John felt a small slap on his consciousness at this thought, but ignored it in favor of trying to get out of the spotlight as soon as possible. The tall boy, looking more a teen than a child, stretched his hand to Professor McGonagall.
Giving her a firm handshake, he introduced himself, "Hello Professor, my name is John Potter."
Only the years of decorum, her stern reputation, the repeating pattern, and an ever increasing desire to get to that bottle of fire whiskey allowed her to respond with some amount of recovered sense.
"Hello Mr. Potter, my name is Professor McGonagall. Can I assume you know what to do?"
"That I do Professor, just a moment."
John wasted no time in doubling up the steps, plonking himself down on the stool before placing the hat on his head.
"In a rush, are we?"
John shook his head, "I'd rather not be in the spotlight any more than I need to be."
Hat raised a non-existent eyebrow and said, "Very well, let us see where you will go."
Hat expected the images and once more saw a tale being weaved. John was the strong man, the bruiser. He took the hits so the others did not have to and he was fine with that. He studied first aid from materials in the library and what was in school, patching himself up and enduring the pain of improper stiches and burns treated without proper medicine. Despite the little food that was had, he trained. Found ways to defend himself and defend those others so they did not have to endure the pain he had experienced. Despite being the punching bag, he always made an effort to be friendly. He tried making jokes with the local librarian, defended other children, gave an ear if needed and above all, he worked hard. It did not take much for him to agree to the others plans to lie low and avoid attention. He did not like attention much anyways. He worked hard to train both physically and mentally. He learned meditation techniques to supress hunger and pain as much as his young mind could. Hat saw and felt many memories of John closing his eyes and focusing to ignore the beatings he received. He was loyal to his other alternatives, but regretted that no one he had met had ever earned his loyalty beyond his mind. A regret he had hoped would be remedied at Hogwarts, but was becoming increasingly unlikely due to his reception thus far. Not just the attention Harry had received at Diagon Alley, but also the reactions of the other students. Then again, he couldn't really blame them as he and the others already determined that having four separate identities was not normal. Apparently though the magic only increased the problem and gave them four unique magical signatures.
Hat saw the loyalty, the desire to take the hits, the hours spent working hard with limited resources and once more made a choice.
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
John quickly descended the stairs now trimmed with the yellow trimmed robes and the badger badge of Hufflepuff. He took a seat at the far end, trying to keep his head low and hoping with sheer force of will to shake off the attention that was burning down on him from all sides.
It didn't work, but maybe one day it would.
The rest of the sorting went by but if ever a time that the Potters stole the thunder from someone, that was the time. The names were called and the pronouncements were made. Weasley making it to Gryffindor most notably, but the claps and cheers were noticeably quieter as eyes drifted back to John who had his attention focused clearly on the table in front of them.
Dumbledore, trying to bring back the usual jolliness, spouted off some nonsensical words and warnings that John didn't bother to listen to before food appeared at all the tables. John, having always had to ration food, was gobsmacked by the rows of turkey, ham, peas, carrots, butter, pork, potatoes, pitchers of liquid and other varieties he had seen on the Dursley table, but never had the ability to taste. He was ready to reach out with his hands to grab whatever and eat with renewed gusto, but was mentally slapped by Iris, Jasmine and Harry, though the hits by Harry were noticeably lighter due to his own stunned feelings at the piles of food. John though agreed with Jasmine and Iris's arguments that shovelling food down his gullet like a caveman would not help in making friends. He started dishing out a large helping of whatever, while listening to the berets of Iris to obey table manners. John was eventually glad he listened to the others arguments as he would have made himself sick trying to gorge himself on rich foods with his shrunken stomach. All the time while eating, the other people at Hufflepuff sat near by, but not close, evaluating him. He ignored the stares for the time being, but knew he would have to introduce himself along with the others at some point, but by then the prospect of a good meal knocked down Iris and Jasmine's will and they conceded to enjoy the food before worrying about social niceties.
It seemed far too quick before the Headmaster Dumbledore and the Deputy Headmaster McGonagall approached him and instructed him to join them in his private office for a discussion. John quickly finished his bite of ham, wiped his face with a napkin and agreed to join them. The Great Hall's discussion clearly focused on the Potters as he was escorted out of the hall towards the Headmaster's office.