So, I worked hard to get this one out before I take a very long break for December. It's a long one. Mostly due to the Sorting Hat scene going on for a while. The Sorting Hat scene inspired by a one-shot I did in about 2016 or so, entitled 'A Chaotic Sorting'. Needless to say, a few people wanted me to do a follow up, and I suppose through this story, you're getting one.

The One With the Sorting Hat.

Well, it should be apparent where things are heading from here. Dozens, if not hundreds of letters ignored, so this half-giant bloke shows up in the one place where he is bound to attract too much attention. Vernon and Petunia are very furious. And they're lying and got caught lying. I am informed that I'm a wizard before them. If they were a bit smarter, they would have pointed out the fact that I already knew that particular bit of information.

"So, Mr. Hagrid…"

"Just call me Hagrid, everyone does," the half-giant said in his usual jovial and friendly tone.

I should point out that I'm mentally translating Hagrid's accent for the benefit of everyone reading. And any accents. You're welcome.

Got nothing against Hagrid. He could be a bit too loyal to Dumbledore, but Dumbledore gave him a chance after he was expelled. I can't fault the guy for loyalty.

"Right, Hagrid, sir," I responded. "This is just a lot to take in. I mean a wizard? I'm not even sure if I could pull a rabbit out of a hat, and you're telling me I'm a wizard."

"Well, you are and a damn fine one as well."

Ah, Hagrid, you're making me blush, big guy.

"How do you know that I would be a fine one?" I asked.

I had one mode I effortlessly slipped into which I knew would drive the Dursleys nuts. That is inquisitive little shit. Which means the vein in Uncle Vernon's forehead is only going to increase in prominence.

"Well, you know, your Mum and Dad were good ones…"

"But, if they're good wizards, how could they die in a car crash?"

"Well, technically your Mum was a witch…and what do you mean a car crash?"

Hagrid thundered and caused Petunia and Vernon to cower in fear. Good, I can almost smell their fear. A little bit closer, and I will be able to smell Vernon's fear. There will be a decent dry cleaning bill in his future with all the fear I am about to smell. But, I don't think I would ever push him.

So, I should point out for the record, Dudley is currently upstairs, sleeping. As much, as Dudley gets on my nerves, I feel it's unfair that he gets punished because his father is a moron. I was kind of amused by the entire pigtail thing before, but now, it just was a bit much. Vernon should have been the one to meet the brunt end of Hagrid's fabolous pink parasol of doom!

"A CAR CRASH KILL LILY AND JAMES POTTER?!" Hagrid thundered.

Yes, yes, Hagrid's not happy. Because the Dursleys are filthy liars, they're rightfully uncomfortable, as they should be.

"I…I wasn't about to have one in the house," Vernon said. "Fat lot of good it did, the boy's a menace. Maybe he should go to that madhouse of freaks. Meet the same sticky end as his parents."

Hagrid unfortunately had the self control not to impale Vernon on his fabolous pink parasol, thus disappointing me greatly.

"So, I'm a wizard, and my parents didn't die in a car crash?" I asked.

"Yeah," Hagrid said. "They didn't."

"So, how did they die?"

Hagrid shot the Dursleys the nastiest look possible. I forgot how terrified they are.

"Well, they were killed," Hagrid said. "By…well, there are good wizards and there are bad wizards. And this was the worst wizard of them all."

"What did he do that was so bad?" I asked.

"He killed a lot of good people, very good people, your parents are on the top of the list. He…well he was rotten to the core."

I feel like we're kind of retreading old ground at this point. I've seen this show before.

"So, this bad, bad, wizard, did he have a name?" I asked.

"Well…no one likes saying it," Hagrid said.

"Why?"

My favorite word, I have a feeling I'll be using it a lot from here on out. Just consider it me embracing my inner three year old.

"Well, people are afraid. Still afraid. Even after he's long gone, they don't like hearing his name or saying it or anything like that. But, you have to know, don't you?"

Yeah, although if I was told everything else I needed to know sooner it might save a lot of grief. And a lot of deaths.

"His name was…Voldemort," Hagrid said.

"You carry a kid for nine months and name him Voldemort?" I asked.

"Don't…say it…and maybe he had another name, but no one knows."

And Hagrid went into the story, which you should all know, about how Voldemort killed Lily and James Potter, and how I survived, somehow. I know how. And I also know about that little souvenir Voldemort left behind. I wonder if Hagrid ever found out that the prefect who got him expelled grew up to be the fearsome dark lord.

I can't recall off hand if I ever asked him. Surely that was something that would have come up somewhere, right?

"So, I'm going to this magical school," I replied. "How am I supposed to pay for it?"

"That's right, because I'm not paying for it!" Vernon yelled. "I see all of the rubbish on that list. Magic books and cauldrons and fancy hats and robes and all that rubbish."

"Well, don't you worry your head about it, Dursley," Hagrid said. "We don't need your help. Harry's parents have him all taken care of."

"He has money?"

Yeah, Dursley, I really would like to see you try to get gold you're not entitled to from the goblins. I dare you, I triple dog dare you to even try.

"Don't I need a key or something?" I asked.

"Got it in here somewhere, yeah," Hagrid said. "I wouldn't try anything Dursley. You wouldn't like what would happen if you try."

Oh, but I know I would.

"Wow, you weren't kidding, were you?" I asked. "You said you were the keeper of the keys, and bam, you have my vault key. That must be a lot of responsibility, holding the vault key for all of the students at Hogwarts."

"Well um,, Dumbledore had your key."

"Dumbledore, that's the Headmaster of Hogwarts, right?" I asked.

And Hagrid was off, gushing about how Albus Dumbledore was the best. I suppose even the greatest men have their flaws and their blindspots. And I don't hate Dumbledore. I just feel I should not blindly trust him either.

"Yeah, when your parents died, Dumbledore figured he would hang onto your key."

"Did Dumbledore hang onto anything else of mine?" I asked.

"Well, your Dad's old cloak, but I think he's planning on giving you that for a Christmas present."

I can see how Hagrid's a bit uncomfortable with this line of questioning. And Hagrid's very low on the list of people I want to mess with. I just had one question.

"Why me?" I asked.

"Pardon?" Hagrid asked.

"Why did Voldemort try and kill me? Was it because my Mum turned him down for the school dance or something?"

"No one really knows," Hagrid said.

"But, Dumbledore might know?"

"Well, he has his ideas, I'm sure," Hagrid said with a fond smile.

The rest of the conversation went rather swimmingly. I wondered if Vernon was going to do something extremely stupid to try and get his hands on my gold. The goblins would skin him and use his blubber as insulation for the winter if he did.

No pig tails this time. Unfortunately, I think Vernon's delusion that he could acquire any kind of wealth from me distracted him from making any kind of remarks about how Dumbledore was a crackpot old fool. And to think, I went to all of the added trouble in making sure Vernon would be the only convenient target for Hagrid's retaliation.

You win a few, you lose a few.

To London and to the Leaky Cauldron, and the crowd of middle-aged witches and wizards who seemed a bit too obsessed with meeting an eleven year old boy.

"Ah, Harry, this is Professor Quirrell, he'll be one of your professors at Hogwarts."

Here's expendable idiot number one, about ready to head over to Gringotts to commit a felony. Although, Voldemort has not taken over Quirrell just yet. So he was able to shake my hand without any

"Hello, M-m-m-r. P-p-potter, it's a pleasure to meet you T-t-today," the expendable idiot stammered.

"Hello, Professor!" I said in a bright voice. "What kind of magic do you teach at Hogwarts?"

"D-d-defence against the D-d-dark A-a-arts, not that you need it, eh?" he asked. "I'm about to pick up a book on v-v-v-vampires myself."

Well, you'll be smelling like garlic soon. This idiot's stutter is riding on my nerves already. Granted, it could be because I know he's faking it. In fact, that's exactly why.

"Well, I hope you're up for it, Professor," he said.

"Let's go, Harry, loads to buy," Hagrid said. "I'm serious, we better head out of here."

And off into Diagon Alley I went, with Hagrid using his fabolous pink parasol to open up the gates. How did I not suspect there was something amiss?

Well, the first time around, I was a foolish, wide-eyed eleven year old boy who was spellbound by the magic of magic for one thing.

I know for a fact that goblin is a lying bastard for there being one speed only on those carts. I know for a fact that it can go much faster. Much, much faster.

Lying snaggletooth prick. You better hope I never remember your name in about seven years or so.

Hagrid left the eleven-year-old boy in an unfamiliar world to his own devices while he went and got a drink at the pub. Lovely. I walked into Madam Malkin's robe shop.

I spy with my little eye the wild, and soon to be extinct, species of Albino ferret.

"Hello, Hogwarts too?"

I suppose I should be polite to the little prick. For now.

"Yes," he said. "I mean, where else would I go?"

"Well, there's Durmstrang," the prick told me. "But, you wouldn't be getting robes here, would you?"

"I suppose I wouldn't," I replied.

"My father's next door buying my books," he commented. "And my mother's up the street looking at wands."

"Why?" I asked. "I mean, what's the point? Any self-representing pureblood wizard knows that you can't just have someone else look at a wand for you. Doesn't the wand choose a wizard?"

Unless "looking at wands" was a euphemism for something. Oh, Narcissa, you kinky witch, what are you really up to? Methinks Narcissa was looking at a different kind of wand, maybe? Maybe with a special vibrating feature? I'm just saying.

If only I was a few years old. If I was, I would have a wand that I would like Narcissa to have a closer look at. Damn, being in an eleven year old body with forty year old thoughts.

"I guess so," the prick admitted. "But, after I'm done here, I'm going to drag my parents up to look at racing brooms. I don't see why the first years can't have one. I'll bully father to buy one and then I'll smuggle it in."

Yeah, sport, I'm sure that will work out nicely. I'm sure no one else in the history of forever has tried something like that.

"Good luck with that," I said.

"Do you have your own broom?"

"Mmm, not yet," I replied.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"Yes, and I'm damn good at it," I replied.

"Even if you don't have your own broom?"

"I don't need a broom," I said. "I can fly without one. But only when I get into my Aunt's secret herbs and spices."

Maybe I would explain that to him when he's older, maybe. If the prick doesn't do anything monumentally stupid to piss me off.

The truth was I can fly without a broom. Very well. Not as well as my wife, but pretty damn good.

"Do you know what house you'll be in?" he asked after finally finding his voice.

"Well, no one knows until they're sorted, right?" I asked.

"Well, yeah, but I'm going to be in Slytherin," he pompously stated. "I mean my entire family has been there. But imagine being in Hufflepuff? I would leave wouldn't you?"

"Come on Hufflepuff's not that bad," I told him. "Better than Gryffindor. They're a bunch of reckless idiots who just throw themselves into battle without any experience."

"Maybe," he said. "But, Slytherin's the best, and I guess Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad."

The absolute irony of all of this.

"You seem pretty loyal to your family though, being a Slytherin like all of them," I said. "Maybe loyal enough to be a Hufflepuff?"

"I'm not a Hufflepuff," he huffed.

"Sure, you're not," I said.

"I'm not!"

"Oh, if you say so, but I think you're a Hufflepuff."

"Just who do you think you are? What is your surname?"

Well, I was wondering when we were going to get to that part of the conversation. However, as fate would have it, once again Madam Malkin interrupted us.

"All finished, dear."

So, my robes are done and yet the little prick is still here in the shop despite being here before me. He must have some fancy pants custom order which is taking a bit longer.

I got him so flustered that he did not even notice Hagrid outside with the ice cream and made his usual snide remark.

"Well, I guess I'll see you at Hogwarts," I said brightly. "Good luck in Hufflepuff!"

I went out the door with my order, as Malkin tutted about there being nothing wrong with Hufflepuff and muttered something about how these kids take the Hogwarts house thing too seriously. I'm very inclined to agree with her. Although unfortunately there are adults who take the thing too seriously.

"Oh, by the way, the name is Potter…Harry Potter."

And before Malfoy could even react to that little bombshell, I went out to meet Hagrid.

I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream.

You know who likes ice cream. Daphne Greengrass. The ice cream queen of Slytherin. That is all.

Oh, Hagrid and I had a nice conversation about the school houses. Given that a Slytherin got him expelled, I suppose I can't fault him for a trifle biased.

Pretty much got all of my school supplies. I bought a load of books as well. Some about magical history, some about magical law, and I also bought the complete collection of the Harry Potter Adventure Series books. I want to know what kind of tales children are reading about me before I go to Hogwarts.

Then again, Muggle children know all about a slightly altered version of my life. I met this aspiring squib author on a train all of those years ago and we made a deal for her to write about my life story in the form of fantasy books. I worked with her on the first four books very closely. And they are fairly accurate. I really should have worked on her on the last three a bit better. There were massive creative liberties taken. Kind of my fault for only giving her the most basic notes because I was kind of busy with other things at the time.

I never even watched the movies.

I disavow all knowledge of there ever being a play based off of anything connected to my name.

Oh, I got my beloved owl Hedwig back in this timeline. She was excited to meet me. It's almost like she knows.

You want to know what happened to the Death Eater who killed Hedwig in the old timeline? You don't want to know what happened to the Death Eater who killed Hedwig in the old timeline.

Same old wand as well. I have a feeling that Ollivander knew that would be the wand. He just decided to play things up for dramatic effect. When you spend all these years selling wands to children, you got to mix things up a little bit.

"Here's your ticket for the train for Hogwarts."

I took the ticket from Hagrid and put down the hamburger I was eating.

"Platform Nine and Three Quarters," I remarked. "How do I get on that?"

"Well, you see it's between platform nine and ten, and you have to kind of run into it," Hagrid explained. "There's some kind of magical portal thing which is hidden from the Muggles."

"And Muggles don't see anyone going through?"

"Oh, well, they think they must be seeing things or something, bless their hearts."

I suspect there might be some kind of anti-magical person repelling spell.

"What about the parents of the Muggleborn students?" I asked.

"Well, I…I never asked," Hagrid said before he chuckled. "Sorry, Harry, but you remind me of your mother. Asking a lot of questions, about things which people just, well they accept it."

Yeah, that's the case. There's a lot of insane things which people just accept.

"Sorry, but I'm just curious."

"Ain't nothing wrong with that," Hagrid said. "After those Dursleys, I wouldn't blame you at all. I suppose they're not going to rush to see you off of the train."

As much as I would like to get Vernon trapped in some kind of magical void, I supposed it would be best if the Dursleys do not see me off. Not that I wanted to.

"I'm not the best person to answer your questions," Hagrid said. "Maybe you should talk to Professor Dumbledore or maybe Professor McGonagall or whoever your head of house will be. Not saying you'll get sorted into Gryffindor or anything."

Yeah, that's not going to happen. Not this time.

"If those Dursleys give you any problems, send a note to me with your owl. She'll find me."

Damn right she will. Although I did have a secret weapon that Hagrid did not know about. It was time to head back to the madhouse.

I was back and the Dursleys literally were mortified that I brought an owl into the house. Although, I think they tolerated Hedwig a lot more than they tolerated Kreacher. Which was damning the poor thing by faint praise.

Speaking of Kreacher, he was here in my bedroom, along with Hedwig. And Hedwig watched us both with a reproachful gaze if she knew we were up to know good. And she was right.

"So, Master met the Malfoy brat," Kreacher commented. "Begging Kreacher's indulgence, but he thinks Lady Narcissa should have done much better than Lucius Malfoy. While Kreacher supposes that the gold is worthy of a noble daughter of House Black, he is just so inadquate."

"Indeed," I responded. "Narcissa was up the street, looking at wands."

"Kreacher knows what that means, young master," the house elf replied with a shifty smirk. "She was shopping at the special wand shop in Knockturn alley."

I suppose she was. Kreacher looked at me for a long moment.

"I haven't forgotten about Regulus's final task for you," I said. "And once I get to Hogwarts, I'll have the item I need to destroy it."

"Yes, yes, of course sir," Kreacher said. "Hogwarts would have such an item and once you become a student, you can access it very well, young Master."

I mentally checked off the Horcruxes and how easy they would be to acquire.

There was the locket, which was currently at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Kreacher could find that easily.

Diadem of Ravenclaw would be next, do to it being in the Room of Requirement. Easy enough, I suppose. Could get the locket and the Diadem in one fell swoop.

Next was the diary. Have to swipe that one from Malfoy's Manor. Shouldn't be too hard.

Then there was the Ressurection Stone. It was under a lot of enchantments. Which means I would need to acquire the help of some gullible idiot who was greedy enough to think there might be treasure to do the heavy lifting.

Mundungus Fletcher it is then.

Hufflepuff Cup, oh that would be a bit of a problem. Considering it's the Lestrange family vault, that might be a difficult one. Going to have to do that one later, because it requires a bit more work.

Nagini hasn't been made into a Horcrux yet. Although, I should acquire her to be safe.

There's the Horcrux in my scar as well. I can almost smell it following me around. I'm going to have to extract it somehow. Or maybe just stab myself in the forehead with a Basilisk fang and hope that Mum's protection is enough to prevent me from dying. I'm not sure with all I've been through, if I can get a Phoenix to cry for me this time around.

Don't know if there's any other way. Killing curse from the person who created the Horcrux worked last time, not sure if I could bait anyone else into blasting me with a Killing Curse. Maybe if I broke Bellatrix out of Azkaban, I could convince her to do it, but that's a big maybe. But, I'm not sure it would work.

Making a living creature into a Horcrux is ill-advised. Just like making a person into a Portkey. Because if they were to touch themselves.

"We've got a lot of work to do Kreacher," I remarked. "A lot of work. And that's on top of getting Sirius out of Azkaban."

"Must we?" Kreacher asked.

Those puppy dog eyes might work on a lesser being than Harry Potter, although points for trying.

"Yes, we do," I said. "I help you, you help me."

It's the reason why I bought all of those magical history books and law books. Because, I needed a logical reason to start asking a lot of questions about the man who was supposed to betray my parents. And I would have to snag the rat as well. It would help. Playing to Fudge's ego would help a lot more.

"If young master insists," Kreacher said with a defeated sigh.

"Yes, I insist," I said.

It occurred to me that I am only assuming that destroying all of the Horcruxes before Voldemort returned to a physical body would cause him to just poof into the afterlife. No one created one more than one. No one created as many as Voldemort did. We were heading into uncharted magical territory.

I could very easily destroy the entire Multiverse due to some kind of weird magical paradox thingy.

Oh well, you miss one hundred percent of the shots you don't take. And I'm not about to let Voldemort return to power, just because I could risk causing an extinction level event over multiple Earths.

I have standards. Not many.

After all, I once worked for Comcast.

It occurred to me that if all went well, I would never see the Dursleys again. Vernon made a few feeble attempts to try and acquire my key. Nearly losing a finger disqualified him from doing so.

"Well, I'm off to Hogwarts," I said. "Magical school where I learn magic. Just like my magical mother, who was Aunt Petunia's magical sister, when she learned magic."

Vernon and Petunia looked at me with pure loathing, as I carried my trunk and Hedwig's cage.

"Well, I'm not taking you," Vernon said.

"Don't worry, this is goodbye," I said. "Adios! Arrivederci! Au Revoir! And Sayonara!"

"Don't know how you're getting there," Vernon said.

"On a magical train," I said. "It's magical!"

"STOP SAYING THAT!"

"No, I'm good," I said. "I want to thank you for everything you've done for me. And someday, I hope to repay the favor as you deserve."

Petunia looked extremely worried at this moment. I think I was reminding her of Lily and it was terrifying her at the moment. They say windows were the eyes to the soul.

"And I'm off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Hogwarts, because, because, because, it's magic!" I cheered. "Kreacher, do you want to say goodbye?"

"Not, particularly young master," Kreacher said.

I shrugged. Fair enough I guess. I turned and walked out of Number Four Privet Drive. I practically strutted down the street, with a house elf, my owl, and magical trunk, making sure every single neighbor saw me and would be talking about it for years to come.

Going out where everyone is going to remember me. Spin that one, Dursleys. Spin it!

I slipped on the Hogwarts Express undetected. Kreacher popped off to prepare to smuggle the locket into Hogwarts. House elves were damn good smugglers. It's a shame people used them for menial labor.

This is as good a time as any to talk about my old school chums. Ronald Billius Weasley and Hermione Jane, or is it Jean because I changed my middle name due to not wanting to share one with Umbridge, Granger. The truth is, we have not really spoken in years.

There was no big betrayal. No moment where we had a big fight. Just we went our separate ways and grew apart. Look, it happens alright. I wanted certain things, they wanted certain things.

I doubt very much I could identify with them anyway at the moment. Being eleven, well almost twelve in Hermione's case, is a hard one. Plus, Hermione's adherence to authority figures would clash with my need to question everything. Especially authority figures. Ron's insecurities, as reasonable as they may be given his mother, would get on my nerves rather quickly. Best to see what they can do without Harry Potter being a prominent part of their life.

That being said, maybe I'll give them a tiny little nudge in a different direction. I figure I'm going to give them several nudges in different directions. Mostly because I want to see chaos unfold.

I read another thrilling Harry Potter adventure. I had a couple of working theories on who might be writing these books underneath an assumed name. I ruled Lockhart out straight away. There's absolutely no way he would be able to write anything without inserting himself in the story.

Apparently, I was fighting the Dark Lord's secret daughter who had gotten ahold of a time travel device. Honestly, who comes up with this crap?

The door opened up and a quintet of students, second years by the looks of things, entered the compartment.

"Hey, bro, you mind if we sit here?"

I had to look up to see a sandy haired young man who was wearing sunglasses indoors, for some reason, and a very fancy tweed jacket, pants, and a yellow top. I recognized that git immediately. Eddie Carmichael, he tried to sell me and the Wheeze some brain stimulants for OWL year.

"Sure, I won't bother you though," I said.

"No, brother, at all, it's all good, bro."

I looked up and as I lived in breath, Cho Chang, my first crush in the old timeline, was here. She looked so young and innocent and untraumized here. Diggory's a good shit, so I'll do everything in my power not to let him get killed.

Then, I saw Roger Davies, for many years the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team captain, and the lucky overachieving bastard who went to the Yule Ball with Fleur Delacour. Nice enough guy, I suppose.

Hey, Marietta Edgecomb, Cho's friend. Hermione autographed her face after she ratted our little study group out to Umbridge. To be fair, it was not exactly fair that Cho dragged her to a meeting which she did not want to be. Maybe she was a nice person who made a mistake. I did not get a chance to know her beyond being moody and irritable in meetings and then giving us up to Umbridge, and fleeing in shame ever since she saw me and Hermione.

I think that last one is Sarah Fawcett. Snape once caught her making out with her Yule Ball Date in the bushes.

"This is the gang," Carmichael said. "Cho Chang."

"Nice to meet you," Cho said politely.

"Pleasure," I told her.

"Sarah Fawcett."

"Hello," she said quietly.

"Hey," I replied.

"Marretta Edgecombe."

"Oh, it's nice to meet a first year," she said. "I remember how we all were last year, how we were so nervous…you are a first year right? It's just that you're just so short."

Yeah, most eleven year olds are. Marietta seemed nice enough though, at least for the moment.

"You have the most beautiful green-eyes," Marietta murmured. "Doesn't he, Cho, Sarah?"

The two girls smiled, and all three looked star struck. And to think, I had not dropped my name just yet. Granted, I suppose that they would have crushes on a handsome young man such as myself, even if I'm uncomfortable with girls close to my age, due to being mentally older.

Although all three were lookers in the future.

"He does, doesn't he?" Roger asked. "Roger Davies, by the way."

"Nice to meet you Roger," he said.

"And I'm Eddie Carmichael," Carmichael said. "You need anything, anything at all, just get ahold of me, Bro, and I'll be there. I can get the rarest items possible, and I can get it for you cheaper than the other guy who tries to fleece you. I'm your guy, bro."

"Well, I'll keep that in mind."

"Don't listen to Eddie," Marietta told me. "He'll sell his own Grandmother for a Galleon."

"Bro, you're killing me."

Marietta just flashed a little smirk at Eddie.

"So, we didn't catch your name," Marietta said.

"Oh, Buddy Peacock."

It was either that or Lloyd Boner, and I did not feel comfortable making crass boner jokers in the presence of a bunch of twelve year olds.

"Well, Buddy, my bro, it's a pleasure to meet you, and real pleasure," Eddie said. "You're reading one of those Harry Potter adventure books? Well, you see, Harry Potter, he's a close personal friend of mine, brah, and Buddy, my buddy, oh my buddy, let me tell you something, brother, I can get you the best Harry Potter swag imaginable."

"Here it comes," Marietta murmured.

"You see, I can get you a one of a kind, a Harry Potter and the Depraved Descendant, minted, and autographed, by Harry Potter," Eddie said. "And normally you can get one of these for twenty galleons, but for you, I'll go a measly twelve…no ten, ten Galleons, and I'll even throw in a lock of his hair. And a Polyjuice potion so even you can be Harry Potter for a day."

"Mmm, that's interesting," I said. "But, I'm going to have to pass."

"Oh, tough break, Bro," Marietta said by patting Eddie on the forehead.

What the hell happened to you in the next five years, Edgecombe? Cho, Sarah, and Roger broke out into giggles and Eddie scowled at Marietta who continued her condensing head patting.

"Oh, don't worry, Eddie, I'm sure you will get someone to buy one of those books, yet," Cho said.

"Yeah, I think there's a fresh Weasley on the train," Marietta said.

Savage, but I'll allow it.

"Oh, no, no, not Weasleys," Eddie said. "Those twin terrors, they kill my vibe, Bro!"

The doors opened and here came the soon to be extinct Albino ferret, along with the two large NPCs he programmed to walk behind him. Goyle is marginally more stupid than Crabbe. I think.

"You!" Malfoy bellowed. "You're Harry Potter."

"Wait, I thought your name was Buddy Peacock," Cho murmured. "You…."

"I told him my name was Harry Potter," I said to the group.

"Oh, and he brought it, oh, such a mark," Eddie said. "I get it, brother, you're working a con, you're working that mark. I get it brother, but brother, let me tell you, bro, I think we've got this one, Jack. Bro, let me get this. Buddy, we got this one, Jack."

I had no idea half of what he said. Sure, let's go for it.

"That's right, it's Harry Potter, the one and only," Eddie said. "And for you, my brother, my friend, my absolute buddy, I can give you a one and a kind autographed Harry Potter photo, personally engraved. Mmm, it's such a deal, if I can just have a moment of your time, to indulge you…."

"Shut up," Malfoy groaned.

"No, no, you're going to want to hear this one," Eddie said. "It's normally a twenty four Galleon value, but you, I will give you a special deal. Twelve galleons for an autographed photo. These babies are going like hotcakes, so bro, are you in or are you out?"

"We'll take one," Crabbe grunted.

"Yeah!" Goyle yelled. "Getting a photo like that is going to be an antique when he dies."

Eddie produced the photos. Cut out from a Harry Potter Adventure book with a crude forgery of a signature which could honestly say anything. Crabbe and Goyle produced Galleons and took them. Malfoy looked like he was about to facepalm, but decided not to, because it would not be dignified.

"Bro, it's a pleasure doing business with you, Bro…hey!"

"Commissions, after all, I made your little sale's pitch credible," he said. "Let's see, I think eighty percent is fair, wouldn't you?"

"Bro, you're chapping me."

I took a huge chunk of Eddie's con money, and gave some to Cho, Sarah, Marietta, and Roger.

"For candy, when the Trolley Witch comes by," I responded. "Pleasure doing business with you, Bro."

I turned my attention to Malfoy, who looked not too pleased.

"Oh, and who are you again?"

"The name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

"Shaken, not stirred?"

To be fair, that got about the reaction I expected out of a pureblood. That being in a state of utter confusion.

"So, how is my favorite future Hufflepuff doing?" I asked.

"I will never be a Hufflepuff!" Malfoy yelled.

"Want to bet on it?"

"Did you say, bet?" Eddie asked.

Marietta and Cho on the other hand were undignified enough to facepalm themselves.

"Yes, because no Malfoy will ever go in that house of spares."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with Hufflepuff," Cho said.

"Yeah, a lot of good people go there," Marietta said. "And Professor Sprout is a sweetheart."

"So, are you ready to bet or not?" I asked. "I bet you fifty Galleons that you will go into the Hufflepuff house."

"Really, chump change," Malfoy said. "I bet you a hundred Galleons that I will never get sorted into the Hufflepuff. No Malfoy will."

The five second year Ravenclaws watched the scene, along with Crabbe and Goyle, who pulled themselves away from looking at their collectable photos.

"Why not raise the stakes?" I asked. "Why not one hundred and fifty galleons?"

"Seeker's bet, in tribute to Barberus Bragge?" Malfoy asked. "You're on."

I'm actually glad Malfoy got the significance of that.

"Good," I said. "Let's shake on me."

We shook on it. Crabbe and Goyle looked on in confusion.

"What's a Hufflepuff?" Crabbe asked Goyle.

"I don't know," Goyle said. "Some kind of pastry?"

I could not top that if I tried. Let's fast forward to the sorting.

Magically hacking the Sorting Hat might be one of the worst things that I ever done, outside of the previously mentioned Comcast employment. The first years were all here, packed in like cattle. McGonagall gave us that speech about how our houses at Hogwarts were our families and all that rot.

"Abbott, Hannah."

Nice girl. No real changes.

"Hufflepuff!"

"Bones, Susan."

Nice girl. In a few years, nicer…um girls.

"Hufflepuff!"

"Boot, Terry."

Don't really recall him. Think he was a Ravenclaw. Not anymore.

"Gryffindor!"

Terry raised his eyebrow in surprise, but moved on to the Gryffindor table to the applause of many.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy."

No real changes. I honestly don't have any memories of her at all.

"Ravenclaw!"

"Brown, Lavender."

You know, Lavender gets a bad rap. She stood out and helped with the Skrewts when half of the class went into a cabin in terror. So, she belongs where she is.

"Gryffindor!"

Another applause.

"Bulstrode, Millicent."

Sweet girl, all things considered. Great love of cats.

"Hufflepuff!"

I had to.

"Corner, Michael."

Prick.

"Slytherin."

Michael had been completely shocked but made his way over to the Slytherin table.

"Cornfoot, Stephen."

I have no idea who that is.

"Gryffindor!"

"Crabbe, Vincent."

I have to do it. I just have to.

"Gryffindor."

Crabbe looked dumbfounded. But that was his default state. He managed to get steered over to the Gryffindor table.

"Davis, Tracey."

Smart as a tack. Stunning as well when she grows up. Overlooked next to the Ice Cream Queen. She'll be better suited somewhere else though.

"Ravenclaw!"

"Entwhistle, Kevin."

I have no idea who this is.

"Slytherin!"

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin."

Oh, right, the idiot who liked Lockhart. To be fair, he kind of doesn't fit anywhere else.

"Hufflepuff!"

"Finnegan, Sheamus."

Mother was a real see you next Tuesday. Honestly, not telling your husband you were a witch until after the marriage. That's not funny at all.

"Slytherin!"

"Goldstein, Anthony."

Nerdy and Jewish. Not that's a bad thing, just stating a matter of fact.

"Hufflepuff!"

"Goyle, Gregory."

Okay, I really can't split up Crabbe and Goyle. That would be like Sigfried without Roy. Pinky without the Brain. Cheech without Chong. O.J without a questionable acquittal.

"Gryffindor!"

"Granger, Hermione."

See, she's actually here, this time around. I do have a heart. Hermione looks pretty nervous, walking up to the stool and putting on the hat.

'Hello, Ms. Granger,' I said through the hat. 'Oh, well you have an interesting mind. 'Oh, you are brave, but not too reckless. Smart, but you can go by the book a bit too much. You are extremely royal and hard working. I think I know where to put you.'

"Hufflepuff!"

'Are you sure about this?' she asked.

'Why, did you think you should go somewhere else, young lady'

'Well, I mean, I would have liked to go to Gryffindor, that's where Professor Dumbledore went.'

'And it's statements like that why I think you would be a better Hufflepuff.'

'Well, you're the hat, you know best.'

Hermione walked off to sit next to Susan and Hannah. I think they would be good for her.

"Greengrass, Daphne."

Here she comes, on the scene, she's the Ice Cream Queen.

"Ravenclaw!" the hat bellowed.

'Seriously?' Daphne asked.

'They have the best ice cream parties.'

'Cool.'

Oh dear, Arnold would not even go for that one, Ms. Greengrass. Still, I'll allow it.

"Hopkins, Wayne."

Another NPC that won't get mentioned again.

"Hufflepuff."

"Jones, Megan."

Hello, Megan! Sorry, inside joke. Still, I do like Megan and she's a sweet girl. And perfect.

"Hufflepuff!"

"Li, Su."

Don't really have anything to say about Su. She kind of just blended into the background after her sorting.

"Ravenclaw!"

"Longbottom, Neville."

Here comes Neville before he found his confidence. I think his grandmother did not do any favors. Certain family members dropping him out of windows to try and force him to do magic did him less favors.

'Don't be afraid, Neville,' I thought. "Just a hat. Your secrets are safe for me.'

'Well, could you please put me in Gryffindor?' Neville asked. 'My Grandmother wants…'

'Son, you need to be less focused with what your grandmother wants, and what you need,' I thought. 'And your parents, they would have been proud of you wherever you went. And I think the best place for you, would be…'

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Neville had been astonished and walked off to join the rest of the Hufflepuff tables.

"MacDougal, Morag."

Another extra in the story that was my life.

"Ravenclaw!"

"Macmillian, Ernie."

Ernie could be a bit pompous. A bit arrogant. And he talked about his grand wizarding heritage to try and prevent me from attacking me as the heir of Slytherin. If you have nine generations of warlocks and brag about it to save your skin, there's only one place where you could go.

"Slytherin!"

"Malfoy, Draco."

Oh, boy, here we go. The big one, well one of them. Draco strutted to the sorting stool like a pompous peacock and put me on.

'Hello, Mr. Malfoy."

'Put me in Slytherin.'

'Such loyalty,' I thought. 'Such admirable loyalty.'

'Don't you even think about it,' Malfoy thought.

'Think about what?' I asked. 'Sending you H…'

'NO!" Malfoy shouted.

'You bet with Harry Potter, that you would be in Slytherin,' I thought. 'He thought Hufflepuff.'

'I'm not losing a Bragge bet to Potter,' Malfoy said. 'You will put me in Slytherin…or…'

'Or what?' I thought. 'You're going to shout at me indignantly.?"

'I have a lot riding on this.'

'So, maybe if you want to be in Slytherin, you can cut me in on this action.'

'Why do you need gold?' Malfoy asked. "You're just a hat.'

'Well, that's rude,' I thought. "That settles it. You need to work extra hard to be that big of a douchebag. Therefore, I have no choice but to put you in…'

'I will tell my father about this!' Malfoy mentally yelled.

'I'm sure you will.'

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Malfoy looked terrified. I waved to him merrily from across the hallway and patted my palm. Malfoy walked off to join the Hufflepuffs as two certain ginger twins howled with laughter at the look on his face.

'Malone, Roger.'

Who are these people?

"Meh, Gryffindor."

Sorry guy, you can't even warrant a mention in the sorting chapter in the Muggle adaptation of my story.

"Moon, Lily."

Huh, you think someone who shared a name with my sainted mother would have warranted more than a mention. Suppose she should have been named Martha instead.

"Gryffindor!"

"Nott, Theodore"

Sorting this guy will nott be a problem.

"Slytherin!"

"Parkinson, Pansy."

Malfoy's simp. And the person who started all of those rumors that Daphne was Slytherin's Ice Queen when she muttered ice cream when half asleep.

"Gryffindor!"

This sorting is taking forever. Pansy's look of utter indignation made me smile.

"Patil, Padma."

"Ravenclaw!"

"Patil, Parvati!"

"Gryffindor!"

No real changes here. Like the Patils, nice girls when you get to know them. And I got to know them.

"Perks, Sally-Anne."

Oh, right, Sally-Anne Perks. Well, according to McGonagall and Dumbledore, she moved away, in the middle of my third year. There is a nasty rumor that on the first Hogsmeade trip, she got lost, and ran afoul of a rogue Dementor who was feeling a bit peckish. Not sure how true it was, but it's what I heard.

I mean, she could have really just moved away.

"Hufflepuff!"

"Potter, Harry."

Oh, right, that asshole. I walked up the sorting hat. Eddie looked at me, mouth wide opened, and turned towards Roger, as Marietta, Cho, and Sarah waved at me from the Ravenclaw table.

"Man, he's got even McGonagall fooled," Eddie said. "Thinks Peacock is really Potter."

Oh, Eddie, you diamond in the rough, you. I put on the Sorting Hat..

The moment the hat touched my head, it gave out a prolonged sigh.

'Having fun?' The Sorting Hat asked.

'A blast,' I thought. 'Oh, come on, cheer up, Chester. This is the most interesting sorting in years.'

'I suppose,' Chester thought to me. 'So, Ravenclaw. I noticed that you went out of your way to make sure no boys in your year were sorted there.'

'That's because I don't want to accidentally stab someone in their sleep,' I thought.

'Right, an accident,' Chester thought. 'You're lucky I'm bound by the founders not to reveal any disturbing thoughts that the students have. I'm going to need a scouring after I deal with you.'

'When's the last time you got washed anyway?'

'Oh, it's been about ten or so years,' Chester told me. 'Lucky there are charms to prevent lice.'

'Right, lucky,' I thought.

'And lucky that the dorm room can shift in size to fit the students as need.'

'Magic can be convenient sometimes, yes.'

'I suppose you're going to come to get the sword soon.'

'I'm going to try and subvert the Basilisk first,' I thought. 'I could use another pet. We can bond.'

'You are a sad, strange little man,' Chester thought.

'True.'

"RAVENCLAW!"

Everyone clapped. Marietta shoved Eddie out of the way, so I can take a seat next to her and Cho. They grinned and patted me on the back when I joined them.

"Oh, we got Harry Potter!" Cho yelled.

"Suck on it Gryffindorks!" Marietta cheered.

"Welcome to Ravenclaw," Sarah said. "I think you'll do pretty well in Ravenclaw."

I noticed Sarah was a bit shyer than her two most boisterous friends. At least right now.

"They still think you're Potter," Eddie murmured. "Bro, you're good."

Back to the Sorting. There seemed to be a few more after me than I remember.

"Rivers, Oliver."

Don't know.

"Hufflepuff!"

"Roper, Sophie."

It's amazing how few of my classmates I remember. Or how few of them were relevant to my life. Or really relevant at all.

"Ravenclaw!"

"Runcorn, Andrea."

I once polyjuiced myself as her Dad to sneak into the Ministry.

"Ravenclaw!"

"Smith, Zacharias."

This Douchebag. Thinks he's special because he might be descended from Helga Hufflepuff.

"Slytherin!"

Smith scowled. He was about ready to yell how this should be a mistake. Thankfully, sensing the students getting restless and a bit hungry, McGonagall steered Smith towards the Slytherin table.

"Thomas, Dean."

Dean's one of the good ones. Don't really have anything bad to say about him. Loyal guy.

"Hufflepuff!"

"Turpin, Lisa.'

Hey look, another student who faded into obscurity after this sorting. There sure seem to be a lot of those. Especially in the Muggle novelization.

"Ravenclaw!"

And finally, and gloriously.

"Weasley, Ronald."

Ron walked up to the Sorting Hat and looked a bit nervous while putting it on.

'Howdy, Ron,' I thought in a really bad Texas drawl. "What can I do ya for?'

'Oh, well hey, Mr. Sorting hat,' Ron thought. 'I'm Ron, you know the sixth Weasley son.'

'My, my, my, you're an interesting one,' I thought. 'You want to be greater than all of your brothers. You are quite ambitious.'

'But, no, I'm not ambitious…'

'Pretty sneaky to try and hide your true ambition from people, even an all knowing Sorting Hat,' I thought. 'I might say that seems a bit Slytherin of you.'

'I can't be sorted into Slytherin,' Ron thought.

'Why not?' I thought. 'You kids, you think you know what you want. You would think by now that you whippersnappers would understand that I know better. I've been sorting students for a thousand years. Back in the day, you know how many miles they had to walk to the Sorting Hat?'

'Um, no!'

'Fifteen miles in the snow!' I shouted at him. 'Dag nabbit and con fabbit. It's just like this other boy, Draco Malfoy. He thought he should be Slytherin, but the boy is a Hufflepuff through and through.'

'That was pretty funny.'

'Laughing at someone's misfortune, well that's a Slytherin trait, isn't it?'

'I can't be a Slytherin, I just can't be!' Ron yelled. 'Mum will kill me.'

'No, I'm sure at worst she'll just send you a howler.'

'That's even worse!'

'Well, I see it in your eyes, in your heart, and in your mind,' I thought to him. 'You should be a Slytherin.'

'No, I can't be a Slytherin,' Ron thought.

'You can.'

'Can't!'

'Can!'

"You will be a Slytherin.'

"I can't be a Slytherin.'

'You can be a Slytherin.'

'I can't be a Slytherin!'

This might take a bit. Make some cocoa. I'll be here when you get back.

'You can be a Slytherin!'

'I can't!'

'I can?'

'You can?'

'No, I can!"

"I thought you said I could.'

"Maybe I don't want to now," I thought. 'Maybe we should wait a little bit. Really suss this out.'

"But, I'm hungry.'

'You're hungry, I'm starving.'

'You're a hat!'

'More rude than the Malfoy boy. And you'll be known as the boy who made the Hogwarts sorting last for days.'

'So could you speed up the sorting?'

'So, do you want me to make you a Slytherin now or later?

Ron's stomach growled. I hummed the theme song to Jeopardy.

"Make me a Slytherin now!" Ron snapped.

"SLYTHERIN!'

Ron gasped. People screamed. I'm pretty sure Percy fainted. The twins looked gobsmacked. I was rather pleased with myself.

So, I've got one more. Ah, here's Blaise Zabini. Katrina Zabini's son. Forgot about him, her, and her many husbands who died in many accidents. Let's see if I can remember them.

Husband one died after he accidentally took a bad fall at a sawmill and got chopped in half.

Husband two was a bit droozy and took a nap on some train tracks. His loving wife made sure he was nice and secure on said train tracks by tying some nice and cozy ropes around her husband's body. Kids, never take a nap on a train track.

Instead of a nice, and cozy blanket, husband number three curled up with a Lethifold that his wife gave him by accident. Said Lethifold smothered him to death. It's an honest mistake anyone can make. Ministry agreed.

Husband number four fell into a tank of Piranhas. Since the Pirranha's tested positive for Dragon Pox, his official cause of death was given as Dragon Pox.

Husband number five died after a wild game of Badminton. A rogue shuttlecock going down his throat was the culprit.

Husband number six was stampeded by wild Walmart shoppers on Black Friday. To be fair, that could happen to anyone.

Really, that one could actually be an accident. No sarcasm.

Husband number seven was hit by a killing curse while bound and gagged. The Ministry ruled it as a suicide. Mmmm, right. And that one was uninspired, Kat.

Oh, I suppose I should get back on track.

"Slytherin! Let's eat!"

Everyone cheered. Now, our chaotic sorting was done, and some first years had been mortified by their house placements, it was time to feast.

The Insanity Continues In 2022.