Disclaimer: Well, I don't own any HP characters... I do own Sterling, this version of the Order of the Phoenix, the plot, yadda yadda yadda...

Chapter 4:
Of Sortings and Surprises


Scything through the sky on broad, pointed wings, the streamlined peregrine is an aerial predator without equal.
~ Wild-Life Facts

Thankfully, the weather was a lot better than last year; the Sun was only just going down, and still shining brightly.
Harry followed his friends inside the castle, crowds of students jostling to get inside. The Great Hall's roof - enchanted to look like the sky outside - was a warm blue, with wispy clouds dotted at intervals.
Harry mouthed a 'hi' to Remus Lupin, who had been re-hired as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.
Harry took a place at the oaken Gryffindor table, and Hermione and Ron sat beside him, Ginny moving further up the table to be with her year and Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost..
The next few minutes were spent chatting with housemates and catching up on 'what I did in the Summer holidays' stories, of which Harry had nothing to say; he couldn't very well explain staying with an ex-teacher and convicted murderer, after having his house blown up (although it would have been one of the most exciting tales).
It was two minutes past seven o'clock when McGonagall and her group of first-years came in, the eleven year olds gazing in awe at the enchanted ceiling and the floating candles that lit the hall.
Professor McGonagall set a three legged stool down at the front of the hall, and laid the Sorting Hat on it; an old, battered, pointed hat, which looked as though it had existed for centuries - which Harry knew it had.
A small tear opened at the brim - it became larger - and the hat began to sing, to the amusement of the eleven year olds.
As the hat started it's song, Dean Thomas, one of Harry's housemates, leaned over and whispered to him, "Are you the Gryffindor Prefect?"
"One of them." Harry muttered back, "They started getting two Prefects last year."
"Thought so. I asked Seamus, and he said he wasn't one, and Neville barely had a chance, so it was between you and Ron." he said. "I'm betting Hermione's the other Prefect."
"Did you really have to ask?" Harry grinned. "Straight A's, all the way. Apart from Potions, but you can't really base an opinion on that git's scoring system."
"I heard Malfoy's one. No surprise, seeing as Snape favours the slimeball, but it's a definite pain."
"Because you can't insult Malfoy in front of him anymore?"
"Exactly. Good luck as a Prefect."
"Thanks."
The Sorting Hat was finishing it's song, and the gathered students clapped.
"When your name is called," McGonagall told the waiting crowd of first-years loudly, "You will come up, sit on the stool and put the hat on your head. It will then choose your house. After you have been Sorted, go to your new house's table."
Some of the children (Obviously the Muggle borns, thought Harry) looked at the woman as though she was mad.
She unrolled a long scroll, and started reading.
"Aine, Stephany." A girl walked out and put on the hat.
"Hufflepuff!" the hat yelled after a second.
"Bakerson, Thomas!"
A small brown haired boy ran up and placed the hat on his head.
"Hufflepuff!" the hat shouted.
"Banks, Jessica."
"Slytherin!
The Slytherin table cheered, as the Gryffindors booed noisily.
"Baylem, Johanna."
"Ravenclaw!"
"Brocklehurst, Nathan."
"Ravenclaw"
"Chang, Ryuu."
"Gryffindor!"
"Was that Cho Chang's brother?" Harry asked Ron, as the Gryffindors clapped loudly.
"Probably, it isn't a very common name." Ron yelled over the noise.
They didn't stop clapping: Cormac, Michael became a Gryffindor next.
Harry listened to a few other students be sorted, and cheered Will Finnit when he became the third Gryffindor.
"Geralis, Eric."
"Slytherin!"
The Gryffindors hissed and booed again, one of the Slytherins throwing a parchment aeroplane at Fred, who was faking being sick.
Fiona Wood, Oliver Wood's younger sister, was the last Gryffindor. Harry briefly wondered what Oliver would think when he found his sister was in the same house.
The Woodley twins, David and Lisa were next, and both were Sorted into Hufflepuff.
Professor Dumbledore stood up and smiled. "I have a few start of term notices to give out. Firstly the Forbidden Forest is just as it's name, forbidden. Next, Quidditch matches are back on as of Thursday, and if I am correct, some players have finished Hogwarts this year and the last, which means there will have to be practices to decide the new players. Please remember that only second years and above may try out. Also, there will be a few new classes this year, although you do not have to take them if you do not wish to. The first is a class focusing on teaching hexes and spells which you can use to protect yourself. The second is a karate club, taught by Professor Lodesky who also teaches Muggle Studies. Finally, there will be a duelling club; note that I mean with magic, not swords." His eyes twinkled at the last remark. "I believe that is all." He sat again, and the feast appeared on all the tables.
"Finally," said Ron, skewering an innocent potato with his fork as everyone rushed to eat, "I thought he'd never finish."
"Is that Lupin at the staff table?" Neville asked in shock, at the prospect of a werewolf, "I thought he quit years ago!"
Hermione tutted. "Just the two, and he's obviously come back. It looks like they couldn't find anyone else."
"Anyone's better than Lockhart. Pity they didn't keep Mad-Eye though." Harry helped himself to some turkey, and listened to cries of disgust and amazement from the first years, as Nearly Headless Nick performed his yearly show (pulling his head not quite off). "And don't get scared, he's only a wolf once a month."
Neville shrugged slightly. "S'pose so. He was a good teacher."
Dumbledore's new sweet obsession appeared to be with Smarties: a large bowl of the multi-coloured sweets sat at every table, and Harry briefly wondered whether it was the new password for his office.
When the meal had finished, Hermione nudged Harry. "Remember what Professor McGonagall said. One of the Prefects has to show the students to their dorms."
"Oh, right." Harry muttered, and stood up with the other Prefect. "First years, follow me!" He called out to the rapidly dispersing Gryffindors. "First years - yes, that's you - come over here."
After breaking up an argument between two of the boys ('You're a Gryffindor? I didn't know they let half-trolls into school.' 'Shut it!' 'Ow! He kicked me!'), the children finally followed him. He gave a final glare at Hermione, who was leisurely buttering a roll just to spite him, and headed off towards the Gryffindor tower.
"Are you really Harry Potter?" asked a wide eyed Lewis Kettle.
"Yeah, but don't turn into my fan." Harry groaned, "I get enough of that already."
"Yeah, right." said the offending boy, rolling his eyes. "Like you don't want to be famous."
"Is that picture moving? " whispered one girl, tugging on Harry's robes. He briefly wondered how the other Prefects managed to do this when they were exhausted from an hours long train ride, and decided the others must have had some kind of genetic disposition towards it.
"Yes, pictures move in the Wizarding world. You'll get used to it."
"Duhh." sniggered one of the others to the Muggle-Born girl. "You're so-"
"Two points from Gryffindor for starting an argument." Harry interrupted, enjoying his newfound power.
The children stared at him, mouths agape. Harry smiled. "Yes, off my own house. Be warned."
After that, they didn't argue - until they reached the Gryffindor dormitories anyway, where a fight broke out over who was getting the bed closest to the window that overlooked the Quidditch pitch. Harry gave up.

~ ~ ~

The next day was Sunday, which meant Harry decided to skip breakfast and lie in bed all day.
Ron seemed to have other ideas, as he finally resorted to casually mentioning how Harry's Firebolt would look a lot better if it actually was on fire, to wake his best friend up.
"Don't you dare," sighed Harry, finally relenting and sitting up. "What do you want?"
"Sorry for disturbing you, oh high and mighty Prefect, but McGonagall sent up our lesson schedules and a list of names of the first years for you.
Either it's a normal thing, or she has serious doubts about your memory."
Harry gave a groan as he suddenly remembered he needed to check his 'Spirit Guide' as the book said. "Maybe I do have."
"Whatever, mate." Ron passed him the timetable and list.
The black-haired teenager glanced over the list. "Nathan Brocklehurst, Ravenclaw? Isn't Mandy his sister?" Ron shrugged. "Probably."
With this helpful and lengthy answer, Harry looked at his schedule. "Double divination, first thing tomorrow?"
"Yeah, but we can sleep afterwards. There's a single lesson History of Magic."
Harry stared glumly at his schedule. "Then followed by another single of Potions?"
"After that, we get our hands bitten off by whatever new monster Hagrid's found in double Care Of Magical Creatures and to follow up, we finish the day wiping bobotuber pus off our faces in double Herbology."
Sterling gave a small croak of sympathy.
"Why did you bother to wake me up? I was having a great time until you gave me that list." Harry moaned.
"First, because I had to give you the list . Next reason, Dumbledore wants to see you. He said it was important." Ron said, heading over to his bed.
This woke Harry up completely. "What about?"
"If I knew, I'd have told you. Look, just head up, he said he'd be in his office. Didn't bother telling me the password."
"I bet it's 'Smarties'." muttered Harry, grabbing his clothes.

~ ~ ~

It turned out that 'Smarties' was indeed the password, which was quite lucky; Harry hated to guess the password, as it always made him feel as though he was trespassing.
He made his way up the spiral staircase to Dumbledore's office, thinking quickly about why he had been called.
Dumbledore would not summon him for no reason; and on his first morning back meant it was something important.
After a few twists, Harry came to the office door.
He knocked on it dubiously, and was relieved to hear Dumbledore's voice perfectly normal when he called for Harry to enter.
This is probably a record for the time taken to be called to the head's office, Harry thought amused, and stood in front of the headmaster.
Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, looking at Harry in strange way. "Harry, do you know why I have called you here?"
"No sir." said Harry dutifully, "Ron just said you wanted me to come here."
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. There are a few things I'd like to say. Firstly, I am sorry about your family, and for not being there in time." He frowned. "I believed that you would be safe with the precautions we had taken, but I now know that is not the case. The next is to ask where you found the bird on your shoulder."
Harry stared at him, puzzled. "Professor, you sent her to me on my birthday," he said, confused. He took the letter out of his robes pocket, and gave it to him. "You sent this note and a list of school supplies with her."
Dumbledore read the note quickly. "I sent you your list of school supplies once I heard you were in Diagon Alley; I didn't believe you would get another chance to collect your school things. However, I sent it with a school owl, not an Aldor Raven, and this letter was not written by me."
Sterling rustled her feathers indignantly, and Harry glanced nervously at her.
"Don't worry, Harry," Dumbledore smiled, seeing his plight, "Aldor Ravens are Light creatures, such as Phoenixes and Unicorns. Whoever sent her didn't want to harm you and most likely, as the letter says, will to protect you. So, I don't see any reason why she shouldn't stay."
He rose suddenly, and opened one of desk drawers. "Also, I believe Mr. Crouch borrowed a piece of parchment from you last year, and I'm sure you would want it back." From inside the drawer, he took a piece of old, yellow parchment. Handing it to Harry, he smiled. "Now, I'm sure you have something interesting planned for the rest of the day."
Which was, when translated, 'that will be all, go away'.
Harry took the Marauders Map, thanked him, and left.

~ ~ ~

Harry met up with Ron for breakfast, and showed him the newly-returned Map. Apparently, Hermione was in the library ("She's already studying for O.W.Ls!" Ron said in disgust), so it looked like they were on their own for a while. Their conversation soon turned to Quidditch, in Harry and Ron's opinions, the greatest sport in the world.
"Have they got any empty spaces on the Quidditch team?" Ron asked, stuffing a pancake in his mouth.
"Yeah, loads." Harry replied, downing some Pumpkin Juice. "We've got to find a replacement captain and keeper. Plus Angelina's left now, and Katie, so we need two Chasers. Next year we'll have to find a pair of Beaters and another Chaser. And if we pick anyone from seventh year, we'll have to find more."
"Do you think I'd be a good Keeper?" Ron asked eagerly, leaning in. "Do you think I should try out?"
Harry thought about the last time he had seen Ron play. He had been surprisingly good; he didn't have natural talent, but he had good training, probably from playing it so much. "Yeah, I think you should. You're pretty good."
Ron was cheered considerably at this news, and declared his decision to try out for the team as soon as the auditions came round. "I'll let you use my Firebolt," Harry said, "the school ones are terrible. We really should get some new ones in."
"Yeah," Ron replied dreamily, "Just imagine the school getting some Lightning Bolts." He looked at Harry eagerly. "Have you heard about 'em? They're so fast ! The Chudley Cannons newsletter's saying that they've managed to get a couple, isn't that great? Which Broom?'s calling it the greatest broom yet!"
Harry forced himself not to duck under the table to protect himself from the onslaught of information. "Yeah, I heard." he muttered.
Ron seemed to notice his lack of interest. "Have you seen Malfoy yet? You said he was a Prefect but I thought he'd be strutting around showing off by now. I've only seen him at the Sorting."
Harry thought about this "I dunno. Maybe Pansy's dropped all the Prefect duties on him, and he doesn't have any time to annoy us."
"Maybe. Talking of Prefects, what's Hermione doing? We don't have any homework yet! She can't just be revising."
Harry shrugged. "I don't think she is. She's been acting weird lately. When I was with Snuffles, she went off to talk to him about something, but they wouldn't say what. Then, on the train she was writing something in a notebook."
Ron perked up. "Did you see what it was?"
"No. She got in a huff when I asked what she was doing."
"Bummer. Maybe she's trying to become an Animagus? That would explain the talk with Snuffles."
"I don't think so." Harry said, finishing his breakfast. "She would have told us if it was that. Probably would have asked us to become ones along with her."
"Do you think I should become an Animagus?" Ron stood up and finished his drink. "I've been thinking about it, but I can't decide."
Harry stood up as well, and they made their way to the library. "I suppose so. I've been thinking about becoming an Animagus as well; got the book and everything. I'm just waiting for night time so I can try the Spirit Guide theory."
Ron was definitely interested now. "Spirit Guide? What's that meant to be?"
Harry glared at Mrs Norris, who was watching them with beady eyes, and continued. "Apparently at birth, you get a Spirit Guide, which has the form of the animal that most fits your personality. Even some Muggles believe in it. It's meant to help you and all, but you can visit it in your sleep. Because you should choose an Animagus form that fits your personality, some Wizards find their Spirit Guide form and choose that as their Animagus form."
Ron raised an eyebrow. Harry grinned sheepishly. "I practically memorised the book. The problem is, you can only find your Spirit Guide on a holy night and the next one is Halloween."
"Cool." whistled Ron. "Can I borrow the book?"
"Yeah. I can't do anymore until I've chosen my form anyway."
"Thanks. What did Dumbledore want to talk to you about anyway?" Ron asked, holding the library door open.
"Wanted to give me the Marauders Map back, and tell me about Sterling." Harry followed Ron into the library, "He didn't send her to me."
Ron gasped, "What if it was You-Know-Who? Harry, did you tell him the truth?"
Harry resisted the urge to look annoyed. "What do you think I did? Anyway, he says she's safe, so no problem."
Ron looked doubtful. "Yeah, but there could be really good shielding charms on her."
"No, apparently there's no way she could hurt me." Harry said, heading down the 'corridor' between the shelves for 'Dark arts, Defence Against and 'Dark Arts, Laws for'.
Hermione was sitting at one of the tables further down. "Told you she was still here," Ron groaned, "I swear, she's going to be setting up camp here soon."
Hermione looked up as they approached and smiled brightly. "Oh, there you are. I was getting worried."
"You were worried?" Ron muttered darkly.
"I was looking around and I found these really interesting books." Hermione continued, pretending she hadn't heard, "And I was wondering whether you wanted to join me."
"What," Ron wondered, ever the brain-box, "Like, merge with you?"
The girl scowled. "Stop being sarcastic. I was talking about whether you'd like to do the same thing as me," She gave a dramatic pause, and came to an end, "and become an Animagus!"
"Oh, yeah. We were thinking about that on the way up here, and we were wondering whether you'd like to do it with us." Ron said smugly.
Hermione stared. Harry pretended to look around the books, so he'd avoid the upcoming fight between the two.
"You're lying," Hermione said finally, "You're just trying to make it seem like you thought of it first."
"We're not!" argued the red-haired boy. "Ask Harry, he's even got a book on it."
"Fine," Hermione snapped, "That's perfectly fine. Absolutely fine. Fine."
Harry ducked out of sight and range behind a desk.
"Ronald Weasley, when were you expecting to tell me this?"
"Right now, Harry and I came here to tell you," he retaliated.
'Please, leave me out of this,' Harry thought, 'I'm too young to die. . .'
"No, you weren't. You just decided to tell me so that you'd seem smarter. Well, I don't see any reason to tell you what else I'm doing, and I was going to tell you. Besides, I bet I can be an Animagus before you two." Hermione barked, gaining a glare from Madame Pince, the librarian so strict she could give McGonagall a run for her money.
Hermione grabbed her books, practically threw them into her bags and stormed out, earning yet another reproving glare.
Harry stepped out from his hiding place. "That didn't go as violently as I thought it would."
Ron shook his head. "She's mental. And what did she mean, what else she's doing?"
"How should I know? Maybe the talk with Snuffles didn't have anything to do with being an Animagus after all. It sounds more like she's only just thought about it, to me."
"Tell you what though," Ron grinned, clapping his hands together, "That 'I can be an Animagus before you' sounded like a challenge. Shall we get training?"
"Ron, we don't have time t-"
Ron waved his hand dismissively. "Let's skip the Spirit Guide, and just choose what we want to be. We don't have to do the Guide thing, so why bother?"
"Okay," Harry agreed, "But if we want to beat Hermione, we'd better get started right away. So what animals are we going to be?"
He took a seat, and Ron did the same, obviously thinking hard. "I don't want to swim; I'd want to change anywhere, not just in water." Ron said logically, "So that just leaves ground and flying animals. I think I'd want to be a Muggle creature, so I'd attract less attention. . ."
"That narrows it down a lot," Harry encouraged, "Go on. Keep telling me what you want, and I'll think about what Muggle animal fits the conditions."
"Right. Well, I'd like it to be red; to suit my hair now, and I don't want it to resemble a human."
"A red squirrel is a definite choice right now," Harry suggested, "Do you want it to be able to fight or anything?"
"Uh - a bit. Oh, and I want to be fast. And not too small, and not too big."
Harry went over all the Muggle animals he'd heard of in his mind. "Got it!" he said suddenly. "A fox. They can fight quite well, they're fast and they're red. I would have stuck with my old thoughts and said squirrel," he explained, "but you said you didn't want it too small."
"Great!" Ron exclaimed, excited, "I know what they look like as well, so I won't have to research them. Brill, thanks!"
Harry moved into a more comfortable position and stroked Sterling. Briefly, he thought of how free Sterling and Hedwig seemed to look when they were flying, and how easy it would be to escape the Dursley's if he had wings. "I'd like to fly," he said slowly, "but nothing magical, for the same reason as you."
"I don't know many non-magical birds; apart from robins and sparrows and stuff," Ron pointed out, "So you'll have to think of your own, mate. What do you want?"
Harry ran over a few things in his head. "I don't want to be small," he decided, "and I want to be able to fly long distances, so nothing like a budgie. And - " He was silent. "I don't want it to be a seed eater. I want it to hunt live prey."
"Some kind of eagle?" his friend suggested.
An eagle? No; there were no eagles in Britain, as far as Harry knew. That would attract too much attention. If only there was a bird; light, but not too small, speedy, native to Britain - and then he knew.

~ ~ ~

He had been seven years old when he first saw it. His junior school had a nature garden out by the playground, and whenever he could, Harry escaped Dudley's gang by going out there. Hardly anyone else went out, except during the occasional Biology lesson that they had to have live samples of frogs and newts for, so it was always quiet.
One Thursday break, however, Harry had slipped away from the crowds of screaming hooligans-to-be and had gone into the nature garden. Usually, the only birds that went in were blue tits, woodpeckers and small nut-eaters like sparrows and thrushes. Today, though, there was a dead mouse laying on the grass, it's side split open revealing it's internal organs. Standing, one clawed foot on it to hold the body down, was a peregrine falcon.
Harry knew that most of the boys in his school would have said 'cool' and thrown stones at it, and that the girls would have given a shriek and ran away, but Harry also knew that he was not like the others.
For some reason, it didn't look disgusting or cruel to him - it just looked right. The bird was so regal, with it's crown of feathers, that the young Harry had wondered how anyone could call the bald eagle the king of birds;
it stood, perched gracefully on it's kill. Beautiful, but deadly, it reached it's sharp beak inside the mouse's stomach and ripped out a string of red intestine. It turned it's head slightly to look at Harry, and spread it great white wings. Then, flapping the gently at first, and then powerfully, it rose into the air in a rush of feathers, and soared out of sight.

~ ~ ~

"A peregrine falcon." Harry said confidently. That's what I want to be."
"Great," Ron grinned. "Let's go read the next chapter of your book."

~ ~ ~

When they reached the Gryffindor common room, it appeared that Hermione hadn't come up, which Ron pointed out to be good news ('Now we don't have take the time to avoid her,' he said, nearly leaping for joy). While Ron saved two seats by the window, Harry retrieved his Animagus book from the dormitory.
"Right," he said, opening the book to the correct chapter and looking through it, "I'll basically summarise it and take out the unimportant parts."
"Start then," Ron griped impatiently.
"I am, calm down." Harry finished looking and flipped back to the starting page. "Alright. We'll find an empty classroom or something, then we've got to clear our minds of everything but the animal. We have to picture it perfectly - all it's markings, size, weight, colours, everything."
"Sounds easy enough."
"Nah, that's the easy part. You've got to imagine it from every angle, at the same time. You have to think about how it lives, how it thinks. Even how the blood runs through it. How it feels, how it senses things, what it's instincts are like, the texture of it's fur or feathers. . ."
As the list grew longer and longer, Ron's face grew from excitement interest, surprise, to shock, to complete and utter disbelief. A minute later Harry ended the list.
"So for a start, we should plan what markings and colours we're going to have." Harry concluded.
"Eep?" gasped Ron, "We can't do all that, that's impossible!"
Harry smiled. "The Marauders didn't think so, or Rita Skeeter. And Hermione didn't seem to think so either." He sighed. "Let's start with you again. What colour and markings?"
Ron groaned, but knew that Harry wasn't joking about continuing. "Reddy-brown body. Normal colours really." Eagerness shot through his face. "But I'll have silver paws, and a silver tip to my tail."
"Eyes?"
"Brown. Unquestionably, brown."
Harry smirked. "Big word for today. Okay; the underside of my wings, my stomach and up to my beak will be white, but there'll be black flecks. Eyes are most certainly black, and my back, head and top of wings will be black."
"What about markings? I can't think of a single one."
"My scar." Harry said automatically. "I'll have some kind of shape on my form's forehead. A white zigzag, like my lightning bolt."
"Cool. I'll have silver freckles." Ron said, pointing to the orange freckles on his face that always seemed to come out during Autumn and Winter.
"Okay, it's;" Harry checked his watch - Remus had fixed it over the holidays. "Two o'clock right now. Shall we practice today, or wait?"
"Might as well get a start."
Harry gave Ron The Look Of Despair. "You're just starting early so that you get a head-start on Hermione."
"So? It'll work, won't it?" Ron argued.
"Okay, don't bite me." Harry sighed. When did Ron start getting so competitive with Hermione? Usually it was just a few nerd jokes, and a small argument.
"I won't bite you, at least not as a human. I swear."
Harry forced himself to look serious. "Okay. Classroom?"
"Charms. That's always unlocked in case anyone wants to practice."
"Perfect. Let's go." Harry said, getting up. "I swear, I've traveled the whole castle today. . ."

~ ~ ~

The charms classroom hadn't changed, but then, Harry hadn't been expecting it to.
Professor Flitwick's desk sat in front of the blackboard; no one had any idea why there was a board in there - school legends said it had never been used.
The room was ideal for practicing Animagus transformations; although most of the room was in a square shape, it had a small section out of sight, like a square added on beside the wall. Harry and Ron went into the square section and Ron peered round the corner. "No one there. Right, I'll tell you if someone comes. Start trying."
"What! You're not going to try with me?" Harry asked, stunned.
"Not yet. If I'm not trying, I can tell you whether anyone about you changes. Go on."
Harry nodded in resignation and took off his glasses, Sterling hopping over to the top of a cabinet. Closing his eyes, he started to concentrate.