Author's note: Forgive the stupid Sorting Hat song . . . I'm not much of a lyricist . . . but I needed to switch up the words a bit for future story plot. I still don't own J.K. or Cornelia Funke, which is all right I guess, because that's one less person I have to hold hostage in my basement. George Bush is enough . . .but let's not discuss my issues, that' not why you're here. Here is chapter five. Enjoy and please review.
**************************************Harry*********************************************
Harry was a bit disturbed to find that Ron and Hermione had gotten their O.W.L.'s back in their Hogwarts letters. It must have slipped Harry's mind somehow, with all that had been happening, meeting Scipio and all. But as the week turned quickly into days, Harry wondered if he'd ever find out what his grades from last year were. But the day before he left, Harry received an owl, one directly from Albus Dumbledore himself. Hermione and Ron peered over Harry's shoulder, anticipating and worrying at the same time.
"Of course Dumbledore hasn't forgotten about Harry. I'm sure he's just been um, sorting some things out."
"Yeah, you're right Hermione, Remember what Harry told us McGonagall said she'd do anything to help Harry become an Auror. . .maybe she's working out some kind of deal with Snape, not to mention the damage she had to undo after Umbridge-"
"Don't mention that name anymore, Ron. It makes me absolutely disgusted and delirious. I hope the old hag's thrown herself off of a building after all the things she's put Harry through . . .I take that back, even throwing herself off of a building is too good of a death for her!"
Harry and Ron stared open-mouthed at Hermione for a matter of seconds.
"What?" Hermione said snappily.
"I've never heard you talk about a professor that way, you sounded almost the way Harry and I sound when we're discussing somebody like Snape or Malfoy." Ron said in awe.
"It was rather scary, Hermione." Harry said, holding back a giggle.
"Oh put a sock in it, you two! What does it say Harry?"
Harry read the letter aloud.
Dear Mr. Potter,
By now I am sure you have realized that Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger have received their O.W.L.'s and that you have not. Due to issues with an incompetent Defense Against The Dark Arts professor last term-
"Damn Harry, you're screwed." Ron said, sitting back from the letter as if he knew what it was already going to say.
"Ron, shut up! Continue Harry."
I have managed to grade you, based upon your own extra-curricular lessons with students (whom, may I add, scored higher than usual on their finals).
"See Harry, I knew breaking the rules would pay off in the end, I knew it!" Ron said proudly, as if he'd never been surer of himself before in his life.
"Ron, if you don't shut-up, I'll hex you!"
Your final grades are enclosed in this envelope. I trust you'll be very proud of yourself.
Harry was worried for a brief moment. If he hadn't made at least an "O" in Potions, he could very well forget about becoming an Auror. He'd just about given up reading the letter when Ron pointed out to a message on the bottom of the paper.
"Look Harry, look what it says!"
Good luck furthering your training as an Auror.
Albus Dumbledore
"Harry, that must mean-"
But Harry was miles ahead of Hermione and looked over his grades:
Charms-O
Care of Magical Creatures-A
Divination-A
Defense Against the Dark Arts-O
History of Magic-A
Herbology-A
And finally, there it was. . .
Potions-O
"WHOOPIE!" Ron shouted, doing a deranged sort of victory dance on the floor.
"Harry, you did it! You'll be able to continue pursuing your career as an Auror!"
Harry stared at the grade one last time in disbelief. He was sure he had failed . . .all of those zeros must have counted for something, yet he'd managed (or Dumbledore had managed) to receive an O! He didn't know what do, or even say. Ron managed to speak for him.
"Tonight, we light all those fireworks Fred and George have been creating in their joke-shop! It's time to celebrate!"
Fred and George came around the corner and brought a great mound of caldron cakes and chocolate frogs. When they saw the confusion on Harry's face, they explained.
"As soon as we found you'd gotten your letter from Dumbledore, we knew what it was for." Fred explained, lifting the tray higher in the air so Ron couldn't reach to eat a single sweet.
"If you hadn't made it, he was going to give you a pile of dragon dung instead." George said, pointing over at Fred with the giant tray of sweets.
"Not me," Fred said, looking hurt. "We were." George winked at Harry mischievously and set off one giant firework, right there in the living room.
It was easily the best moment of Harry's life.
The summer months had gone too fast for Harry's liking. He enjoyed his freedom, his ability to do almost whatever he pleased, and in five minutes time, he would once again ride the Hogwarts' Express to Hogwarts and all those who resided there.
Harry fastened Hedwig's cage to the trolley, along with his Hogwarts' trunk and other belongings. Beside him, Ron, Hermione and Ginny did the same thing. In that order, they all disappeared casually through the barrier, reappearing upon platform nine and three-quarters.
Once again, the scarlet steam engine sat there, motionless with great puffs of billowing smoke coming from the smokestack. It seemed more inviting today; the sky was a gentle calm blue and the sun didn't even shine as brightly as it ought have. It wasn't too chilly or too warm today, just right. It was just the right day to symbolize the end of break. He and Ron loaded their luggage on the train while Hermione went to find seats. Harry realized now that he and his friends were soon to part, they were prefects and he was not.
"Well, we'll see you at the feast, Harry."
"Yeah, I'll see you then."
"You're sure you don't mind?"
"I made it through last year, didn't I?"
"Yeah, after you had to sit with Luna Lovegood the whole ride to school." Hermione said, giggling.
As if on cue, Luna dreamily glided by the three friends, nodding her head in acknowledgement to Harry and Ron, hen thrusting a picture into Hermione's hands.
"I told you I'd get a picture of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack, didn't I, Hermione?"
Hermione simply rolled her eyes and pocketed the picture. There, was a shadow of a creature, nothing too spectacular about it, it could have been anything. She handed it back to Luna who in turn gazed off into space and walked down the train until she found her own compartment.
Harry waved his friends off and sat in his compartment alone, doing nothing but twiddling his thumbs, waiting his arrival at Hogwarts.
***************************************Scipio*********************************************
Scipio managed to get on the train with ease; it was finding a compartment that wanted him that seemed to be the issue now. Oh sure there was room in most of the compartments, but he was as welcomed as rain on a parade. He could see the glares, hear the whispers, feel the awkward silence and it made him sick. He'd wished he hadn't told that group of gossipy girls who he was, it was undoubtedly them who were spreading around who he was: the son of a convicted murderer. It didn't matter to people that his father was innocent; it was the fact that he'd been convicted and spent thirteen years time in the highest guarded wizarding prison in the world that made them worry. It made them worry about genetics. . .it made them worry about him. Picking up his luggage, he made his way towards the front of the train and knocked on the compartment door before entering, meeting the person he thought he was least likely to see there: Harry Potter.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Hey Harry, didn't expect to see you here."
"Hey Scip, if you mean that I'm not with Draco or the rest of the Prefects, it's because I wasn't chosen to be one."
"You're joshing me! You above all people not qualified for the job? Now I know my ass is going to Slytherin."
Harry and Scipio chuckled for a moment.
"What house do you want to get sorted into?" Harry said, crossing his arms and leaning back into his seat.
"I don't know too much about Hogwarts, but I do know whatever house Draco thinks is slime is the house I need to be in."
"Gryffindor?"
"Yeah, that's the name of it. He said you were in it."
"Yeah, I'm in Gryffindor and so are Ron and Hermione, that's partially why Draco can't stand us. Draco was born to be a Slytherin, it's a most horrible house to get sorted into, and they say all witches and wizards who are sorted into Slytherin end up going over to thee dark side."
"From what I've seen, Draco's already on the dark side, Harry." Scipio said darkly.
"What do
you mean?"
"Draco's been acting strange
lately, disappearing in the middle of the night and saying that he had to go do
something. Until recently I've thought nothing of it. . ." Scipio looked
outside the window uncomfortably.
"What made you think twice?"
"He's got the tattoo, Harry. It's perched up on his left-arm like some sort of trophy . . . and if I'm not terribly mistaken, which I don't think I am, Crabbe and Goyle have them too."
"Bloody hell. . .it's really begun then."
"What has Harry?"
"The Second War."
Both sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity, until the snack trolley came around.
"I'll take one of everything, ma'am." Scipio said, giving the witch a handful of coins.
"Same here," Harry added.
The rest of the trip was lighter and more pleasant for the two boys. Harry shared his adventures at Hogwarts with Scipio and Scipio shared stories of Venice and Kikaider with Harry. The two found they had many things in common, favorite colors, foods, and even similar dislikes: Malfoy.
"You know what I thought of you when I first met you?" Scipio asked Harry with a sneer.
"What?"
"I thought you were going to be some spoiled little brat who desperately craved attention."
"What? Well I'm far from spoiled, and I can't stand the attention I get, sometimes I wish I could just get rid of this stupid scar for good." Harry said, pulling back his hair to reveal his scar.
"I know what you mean . . .minus the stupid scar thing."
"You're getting a taste of fame?"
"Yeah. And I did nothing to deserve it. . . the way people stare makes me just want to bomb-rush them all . . . make them stop staring at me for a second and ask me my name . . .it happens it isn't Sirius."
"Yeah, I know what you mean, the stares are what makes it really difficult. I still can't cope with them sometimes."
"Must suck to be you."
"You have no idea."
Harry laughed randomly at Scipio and Scipio pulled out a mirror to look at his face.
"What? Do I have a booger hanging out my nose? What is it?"
"I wonder if this has all been pre-ordained somehow, that we'd meet."
"And become good friends too."
"It's probably got something to do with our parents being Marauders."
"What? Marauders?"
"It's a long story, but I think we've got the time."
Harry told Scipio the tale of the Four Hogwarts Marauders and the havoc they unleashed, what he'd seen in Snape's Pensieve and the Marauder's Map, pausing to hear Scipio's comments and laughter in-between ("Dingy old boxers? Ha!"). By the time Harry had finished his story, it was time for the train to come to a stop. Quickly throwing on their robes, they headed off the train and onto the threstral-driven carts. Apparently, Scipio could see them too and asked what they were, unknowingly. Harry only told them that they were a type of magical creature that drove the carriages. Scipio didn't have to know why he couldn't see them; it would only bring him misery.
The two boys made their way up the steps of the Hogwarts castle, where they were taken inside the castle. Harry was leading Scipio over to the Gryffindor table, but Professor McGonagall interceded.
"Scipio Black I presume?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Call me Professor McGonagall. If you would, follow me over here towards the sorting hat with the first years."
"Professor, you aren't going to make Scip, I mean Scipio get sorted with the first years, are you?"
"Is it at your disapproval Mr. Potter? Scipio will be sorted as all other Hogwarts students who enter this school. No exception. Though he will be properly explained by Dumbledore and sorted before the first years are."
"What? Hey, public humiliation was nowhere in the contract Professor McGonagall, I'm not so good in front of crowds . . . and an introduction? I don't know."
"Oh hush now, it's not as if you'll be the one speaking. Besides, I'm sure you'd rather have Dumbledore explain why you're being sorted with the first years. It could be rather embarrassing being seen with them, I'm sure."
"Alright then, see you around Harry."
"See you Scip."
Harry took his usual seat beside Hermione and Ron, who had saved an extra seat for Scipio, just in case.
Scipio made his way over to the crowd of first years and stood in the front of the Great Hall. He was, by far, the tallest and oldest person there, at least by two or three heads. Some students had begun to snicker while a few pointed in realization of who he was. The girls mostly whistled. Scipio, who had talked so horribly about receiving attention, took the time to wink at a few seventh-year girls sitting at the front of the table. Dumbledore noticed and smiled. Then, he stood and the hall became very quiet. Dumbledore had never spoken before a sorting before; it was a very silent moment.
"I know most of you are wondering why I have interrupted the sorting ceremony. As many of the seventh-year young ladies have noticed, a sixth-year young man stands in the midst of these young ones here. Not to worry, he is far from slow."
A few giggles came from the girls at the heads of the tables. Dumbledore continued.
"Before you stands a transfer student from Kikaider School of Witchcraft and Wizardry of Venice, Italy. Some of you may already know him as Scipio Black."
A few murmurs and pointing and then Dumbledore continued.
"I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Black in Venice, Italy over my vacation. He intended to rob me."
More fits of laughter erupted.
"But instead, I brought him back here to Hogwarts to show him what a genuine learning environment we have. Now that I have introduced Mr. Black, we will begin our regularly scheduled sorting, followed by my usual commentary of the year." Dumbledore finished quite dully.
Professor McGonagall sat the Sorting Hat upon its stool and to the first-years' amazement, it had begun to sing. Scipio yawned.
For those of you who've been here,
And heard the sorting song,
I do regret to inform you:
This year it's all gone wrong.
The unity sought last year,
Happened more or less I'd say,
But you'll need to join together,
To prepare for a future day.
A prophecy foretold,
Must this year be fulfilled,
I say with great deal of sorrow . . .
That one of you may be killed.
The tides of time are vicious,
Not strongest man can stand,
Without the help of his fellow brother;
Offering his hand.
For now I will continue,
And sing my little tune,
But know that a time of darkness comes,
It comes very, very soon.
Now Gryffindor is for the bravest;
The most courageous with great heart,
And Ravenclaw for the talented;
The oh-so-very smart.
In Hufflepuff it's said those who work
Are most worthy of admission,
While those who crave for power
Are often sorted "Slytherin."
Now slip me snug about your ears,
I've never yet been wrong,
I'll have a look inside your mind,
And tell you where you belong!
"Hmm, rather short this year." Harry said, joining the afterward clapping of the song. He had been disturbed about the line about the prophecy foretold saying one of the students here would be killed. He prayed silently that the hat wasn't referring to him.
"Yes it is, with the same warning as last year too, about unity between the houses." Hermione said looking solemnly at the hat.
"Well the old hat might as well stick post-it notes to each of our foreheads, because the day when Slytherin and Gryffindor are all 'chummy-chummy' is the day Snape gives Harry a hug." Ron said, pointing over to Snape, who now wore his patented glare at Scipio.
Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment.
"When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool. When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table."
"Black, Scipio!" Professor McGonagall announced without so much as looking at the parchment. Apparently, Dumbledore wished to sort Scipio first to get him out of the way.
Scipio made his was over to the stool and slouched over, tilting the hat to one side of his face like some sort of joke. Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes and awaited the hat's decision.
***************************************Scipio*********************************************
This was by far the weirdest thing Scipio had ever done. Besides the time he dressed in drag . . .but that was another story.
Hmm, you've got the cunning and bravery of your father, you know. Your mother was a bit of a quiet one. Well, that makes you even easier to sort.
Just as long as you don't put me in Slytherin, Scipio thought, smiling towards the Slytherin table.
Yes, you are your father's son, he thought the same thing after his cousin was sorted a year before, Bellatrix Lestrange. Well if you're sure it'd better be. . .
***************************************Harry********************************************
What on earth is taking him so long? Is he telling the hat a joke? He's taking almost as long as I did . . .I just hope he's not sorted into Slytherin. . .anything but Slytherin . . .
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"GRYFFINDOR!"
"Yes!" Ron and Harry screamed above the crowd. There was an immediate uproar of laughter and clapping from the Gryffindor table and Harry could just make out the look of disgust and shock from Malfoy's face. Snape was now glaring from Scipio to Harry in contempt. But not even Snape could ruin the occasion as Scipio joined the Gryffindor table along side Harry. This was going to be one heck of a year, Harry thought as the sorting continued.
He couldn't have been more right.
Or more wrong.
Author's note: I told you this was going to be a long chapter, it wasn't really. I was going to separate it into two small-sized chapters: The Hogwarts Express and then The Sorting Hat, but I liked the way it looked when it was one big chapter. Don't forget to R/R because it's kind of stupid to go through the trouble of writing a story when it hardly has any reviews. Thanks! Chapter 6 up soon!