The lessons continued, and Josiah said he was getting very good at magic, though Snape never told him so. He seemed to expect Harry to be not only good, but perfect. It made their lessons very frustrating to say the least.
Life got even harder when the various professors began to arrive. Most of them were excited to meet him, though he still remembered with horror the afternoon when Professor Vector cornered him to explain the basics of arthimancy. He hadn't escaped until midnight and had then been yelled at by Snape for staying up too late.
Of all the arriving professors, McGonnagal was probably his favourite. He suspected she could be very stern when she wanted to be, but the first time they met, she invited him for a cup of tea and they talked of nothing but quidditch for over two hours. After that, she had even come out to see him fly, telling him he'd have a place on the Gryffindor team in a second if he was sorted there. She then offered to watch him fly whenever he needed to. Harry had thought that Snape would be happy to be relieved of his onerous watch duty, but he was strangely silent when Harry told him.
"Why don't you call me father anymore?" he asked suddenly. Harry was surprised. He hadn't thought that Snape had noticed.
"You said you didn't want me to."
"I said you couldn't in public, but privately is all right if you're careful," said Snape. Harry had to ask.
"Do you want me to call you father?" he asked, hating how small his voice sounded. He had totally forgotten about his vow. Snape looked away from him and growled to himself.
"Yes, I want you to call me father. Why do you always want to talk about these things?"
"Because you never do!" cried Harry. They both stared at each other, than Snape just turned and walked away.
That had been the day before the Sorting, and they hadn't spoken since. It had been McGonnagal who reminded him not to be late for the ceremony later in the day.
Harry didn't want to be the one to tell her that he wasn't going to be following her advice.
*****
He gazed out the eye of one of the crenulations. The Great Hall looked very different with all the students and professors in it. He had a good view of the High Table, but one look at the scowling face of his father and he decided to observe the students instead.
It took him only a moment to work out which table belonged to each house. Their house colours and ghosts gave them away. The students were all chatting and having a much better time than he was having.
The chatting stopped for a moment when the Great Doors opened. Professor McGonnagal walked out in her best robes, leading a queue two-deep of first-years towards the High Table. Harry regarded them closely.
"That blonde on looks like one of the boys who used to tease me," observed Josiah. Harry would have asked for an explanation, but the hall grew very quiet and Harry could clearly hear the Sorting Hat sing its opening song. Harry had been told all about it by both Snape and McGonnagal, so he shrunk back from his vantage point and leant against the wall.
He really should be out there, but a stubborn part of him made him stay where he was. If he wasn't sorted, than Snape wouldn't have to teach him, or even see him, which was obviously what Snape wanted.
"You sure I can't change your mind?" asked Josiah, breaking into Harry's thoughts.
"No," said Harry flatly. Josiah had already tried once to convince him to go to the Sorting. Josiah continued to stare frowningly at him making Harry turn away and look back down at the hall. Ravenclaw table was cheering for their latest member.
"Perks, Sally-Anne," called out Professor McGonnagal. A blonde-haired girl walked up to the stool and sat down. Professor McGonnagal dropped the hat on her head. It sat silent for a moment than screamed out.
"HUFFLEPUFF," yelled the hat. The girl headed to the Hufflepuff table amidst the cheering of its occupants.
"Potter, Harry," called Professor McGonnagal. Harry saw her look at the queue of first-years, than look again. She turned towards Dumbledore. Harry looked as well, and nearly took a step back. The Headmaster seemed to be looking directly at him.
Dumbledore took a sip from his goblet, than spoke into the silence that had fallen over the Great Hall.
"I believe I've left my lemon drops in my other robes. If you could just hold the ceremony until I get them, Minerva." He stood up and walked towards the door. The Headmaster gave no impression of haste, but he made it out the doors before McGonnagal could even think to protest.
Harry continued to watch the commotion, studiously avoiding looking at the Head Table.
"Harry," whispered Josiah in his ear a few seconds before someone tapped him on the shoulder. Harry grimaced and turned to see Dumbledore standing there with a bag of lemon drops in his hand.
"Would you like one, Harry?" asked Dumbledore genially as he conjured up two small chairs for them to sit in. Harry shook his head no and reluctantly took a seat. He didn't want to talk, but he wasn't sure how to avoid it.
"It's so much easier to get muggle sweets these days," said Dumbledore as he popped a lemon drop into his mouth. "When I was at Hogwarts, we had to sneak out and go as far as Edinburgh to get a few muggle sweets. Of course, Honeydukes wasn't in business then." He popped in another lemon drop, than sat in silence. It seemed to go on forever.
"He doesn't care!" burst out Harry. Dumbledore gave him a serious look over his half-moon spectacles.
"On the contrary, Harry. He cares very much, which is why he so desperately tries not to," said Dumbledore. Harry looked at him in confusion. As Dumbledore's statements went, this one seemed more obtuse than usual.
"I don't understand," he said. Dumbledore sighed.
"Your father was shattered by Lily's death. He was deemed a danger to himself and others, but no one understood why. It wasn't as if his wife had died. The Ministry did no support him despite his role in our cause. And he certainly wasn't fit to take care of you, no matter what he's told you," said Dumbledore, answering Harry's unspoken question. "There were some hard times, but I finally convinced him to take some time off to do potions research, something that has always calmed him. After a few years, he asked to teach here. He's never given me a reason why, but I suspect it was so he could see you as you grew up. That is, if he had never chosen to reveal himself to you."
"I don't think he wants me here," admitted Harry. He had to look away from Dumbledore's kind face.
"Has he told you that?" Dumbledore asked. Harry shook his head no. "Well," said Dumbledore in an almost playful tone. "I'm not sure if you've noticed this, but your father is rather direct for a Slytherin. If he didn't want you, you would definitely know." Dumbledore stood up and shook out his robes. "Sure you won't have a lemon drop?" Harry shook his head. "Well then, if you take the secret passage behind this tapestry," he said, gesturing to a nearby tapestry of the World Cup Quidditch Match of 1473. "You can beat me to the Great Hall." He walked out the door, and Harry stood for a moment before running for the tapestry.
He entered the Great Hall at a run, but slowed down under the weight of the stares of all the students. Without meaning to, he looked up at his father. The older wizard was glaring at him, his black eyes smouldering.
Harry shrunk away from that glare for a moment, than straightened up and met it with one of his own. It was hard to remember Dumbledore's words when he saw no evidence for them. "There was the photo," said a small voice in his head, but Harry didn't want to remember it.
He walked resolutely up to the stool and sat down. Professor McGonnagal pursed her lips at him, and waited for Dumbledore to sit down before placing the Sorting Hat on his head.
"That was very brave of you, lad," said a voice in his head.
"Put me in Gryffindor please," thought Harry before he lost his nerve. Snape wouldn't have to deal with him then, and his father could treat him as horribly as he liked.
"Not so fast. Life is never that simple," said the hat. "You'll do just as well in any house. Let me have a closer look at you." Harry sat silent. He had the strangest feeling that the hat was looking through his brain with all the ardour of an old lady at a rummage sale.
"Family is important to you, isn't it?" asked the hat in a strange tone. "You would do well in Gryffindor, but I think it's best for your sake, and your father's that I put you in SLYTHERIN!"
*****
A/N: Okay. Please don't kill me if I've put Harry in a house you didn't expect him to be in. I spent over a month trying to decide which house to put him in. Rest assured each house was equally considered. If you want a more detailed description of my thought process let me know and I will email it to you. It basically came down to plot and me deciding that I didn't just want to rewrite the first book.
To everyone who reviewed, thank you. The correctness of the wand grip lesson was taken from my own lessons in fencing since the slightest movement can make a large difference in your aim. I figured it would work just as well for 'wand waving'. Josiah's not evil, not sure where you got that idea:) My dig was a chalcolithic cemetery site in Cyprus. I found many things including, shell beads, a picrolite pendant, flint, pottery and lots of human bone. I had fun, so thanks to everyone who asked.
Cheers. Please review:)