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Books » Harry Potter » Malfunction text size: () : (-)
Author: Noclaf 1. Malfunction2. Dead Things3. Rather Rude4. Welcome Home
PG-13 - English - Angst/Mystery - Reviews: 7 - Published: 05-28-04 - Updated: 06-21-04 id:1882466
The sorting went has Harry had expected. Dumbledore gave a long rambling speech of how moving was a terrible ordeal, especially when thrown in to a place so similar to the one left behind. There was a short ramble on how every one should be has helpful to Harry as possible, and of course the dire threats of disturbing a pawn under the protection of the great and powerful Albus Dumbledore. Then there was the intro of the Defence Association over the "hem hem's" of Umbridge the Unbecoming. And all of this was followed by a long and boring explanation of why Harry must be sorted again.
The sorting hat was brought out and set upon the spindly three legged stool, the seat looking so much smaller than the last time Harry had sat upon it- was it only nine years ago? But that didn't matter; time had little meaning in war. The only time that time mattered was when following orders. Until then, time slipped around and copied itself until the next battle was begun.
A hat slid snug about Harry's ears, and the craning looks of the great hall were shut out by the ancient blackness.
"Very difficult I see," whispered a voice in Harry's ear, bringing a strong sense of deja vu.
"I am a Gryffindor" Harry retorted annoyed, they'd already been through this. He fixed the Gryffindor seal in his mind: the red, the gold, the lion. The hat laughed.
"Very clever I see, very determined. But I will put you where I see fit." said the hat, "unlike my counter part, I have nothing to stop me." Harry frowned. He really didn't like the sound of this. The hat was cackling now. "Oh you suspect now! After all the years you spent moulding your self to the very thing you were least like! Gryffindor! Pah! Your as Slytherin as they come. You are meant for great things Mister Potter. And to do them you must enter the house you were born for and banished from!"
"If I ask nicely will you send me to Hufflepuff?" Harry asked. The hat laughed some more.
"Of course not! For you are most defiantly meant for-"
"Slytherin!"
The hat came off Harry's head and the light and noise of the Great Hall assaulted him. For a moment he was eleven again, a cowering first year. Then his eyes adjusted and he found the great hall filled with familiar faces, youthful and curious and above all for most-- dead. But that was no different form the teachers and headmaster directly behind him.
Harry slid over to the one table that he had never, in all the years of Hogwarts and the war, had he even touched. To do so was more than a little shock when the table beneath his hand seemed to move. Well not quite move, so much as ripple and hiss.
"Welcome home." it wisped. And Harry despite all the stares, the hostility, and the utter insanity of his life, relaxed. And for a moment he was Harry, simply Harry the Slytherin. Then the yelling began.
The first to begin against Harry was Harry.
Harry of the Slytherin table couldn't hear what he said exactly, but the gist was apparent. Apparently the Gryffindor was storming away to write his parents. He was flanked by Seamus, Dean, and Ron. All of who were shooting nasty glares and looking in general, outraged. The rest of the hall was reduced to yelling over each other, discussing this new development and glancing rapidly back and forth between the two Potters.
Surprisingly, Dumbledore did nothing to hinder the shouts of out rage, and a few subtle hexes sent at him under the table. It was the fastest Harry had ever seen the school turn against him. But it was still nothing new. Ignoring all but the hexes, which he deflected into hapless Ravencalws, Harry dug into his dinner.
Above him black eyes burned holes into him. But he would not turn. His life was dead and all the people he had loved with it. He would die in a few years anyway. Maybe he should kill himself before Dumbledore managed to spend any money on him….
But he was Slytherin, and if there's one thing Slytherins are good for, it was survival. Well, that and destroying rivals but it was really the same thing to most of their twisted minds….
The dorm was easy for Harry to find, due to certain adventures in his second year. Behind him trailed the more curious Slytherins, as well as his new year mates. Harry stopped at the blank stretch of wall where the Slytherin common room was housed, and turned to raise an eyebrow at the crowd following him. They stared. Harry stared. The paintings on the wall stared. Harry blinked and so did everyone else.
"Knockturn" came the voice of one of the students. The wall slid open and everyone stepped inside. They all arranged them selves around the fireplace, Harry in the front looking at the familiar faces of enemies and a few distant friends. Ginny Weasley was surprisingly present, and Harry desperately wished he could have see the casket that Ron was sure to have blown when that had happened. The arrival of Professor Severus Snape saved them all from another staring contest.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't our new celebrity. Welcome to Slytherin, Mister Potter." came Snape's voice and Harry wondered if the man had used the same words when his other self had arrived in the potions class, well minus the not quite frozen welcome. Turning to the rest of the room, Snape began a speech very much like Dumbledore's telling his little snakes to welcome there newest member to there ranks and not hold anything from his doppelganger against him. That made Harry uncomfortable. Was his other self a carbon copy of his father? The way the other Gryffindor boys had followed reminded Harry strongly of the Marauders. Were they all giant prats like his father? And who was there target? Looking at the Slytherins it want hard to guess. Malfoy looked mildly annoyed, with Crabbe and Goyle cracking there fists looking murderous. It would probably take a very long time for them to tell the difference between the two of him. Blaise Zabini was shooting him frightened looks until he realized he was doing it. Then he just drew his arms around himself and stared at the floor. Harry figured that Zabini was the 'Snivellus' of the Slytherins; taking most of the crap the Marauders must deal out. The other years, younger ones expressly were looking less than trusting.
Oh the luck of a Potter, he hadn't been hear ten minuets and he alredy had plenty of foes.
oOoOo So there you have it. A miracle. I kid you not because I though that I would never resolve certain issues with in the story. But then they're fixed now so enjoy. I'm not gong to update often because I am manic-depressant so I'll pretty much randomly update whenever I get into a "creative mood" and you'll probably then get a lot of chapters at once…. Whatever see ya all later Noclaf
Submit ReviewReport Possible AbuseAdd Story to FavoritesAdd Author to FavoritesAdd Author to Author AlertAdd Story to C2 Archive 1. Malfunction2. Dead Things3. Rather Rude4. Welcome Home
The sorting went has Harry had expected. Dumbledore gave a long rambling speech of how moving was a terrible ordeal, especially when thrown in to a place so similar to the one left behind. There was a short ramble on how every one should be has helpful to Harry as possible, and of course the dire threats of disturbing a pawn under the protection of the great and powerful Albus Dumbledore. Then there was the intro of the Defence Association over the "hem hem's" of Umbridge the Unbecoming. And all of this was followed by a long and boring explanation of why Harry must be sorted again.
The sorting hat was brought out and set upon the spindly three legged stool, the seat looking so much smaller than the last time Harry had sat upon it- was it only nine years ago? But that didn't matter; time had little meaning in war. The only time that time mattered was when following orders. Until then, time slipped around and copied itself until the next battle was begun.
A hat slid snug about Harry's ears, and the craning looks of the great hall were shut out by the ancient blackness.
"Very difficult I see," whispered a voice in Harry's ear, bringing a strong sense of deja vu.
"I am a Gryffindor" Harry retorted annoyed, they'd already been through this. He fixed the Gryffindor seal in his mind: the red, the gold, the lion. The hat laughed.
"Very clever I see, very determined. But I will put you where I see fit." said the hat, "unlike my counter part, I have nothing to stop me." Harry frowned. He really didn't like the sound of this. The hat was cackling now. "Oh you suspect now! After all the years you spent moulding your self to the very thing you were least like! Gryffindor! Pah! Your as Slytherin as they come. You are meant for great things Mister Potter. And to do them you must enter the house you were born for and banished from!"
"If I ask nicely will you send me to Hufflepuff?" Harry asked. The hat laughed some more.
"Of course not! For you are most defiantly meant for-"
"Slytherin!"
The hat came off Harry's head and the light and noise of the Great Hall assaulted him. For a moment he was eleven again, a cowering first year. Then his eyes adjusted and he found the great hall filled with familiar faces, youthful and curious and above all for most-- dead. But that was no different form the teachers and headmaster directly behind him.
Harry slid over to the one table that he had never, in all the years of Hogwarts and the war, had he even touched. To do so was more than a little shock when the table beneath his hand seemed to move. Well not quite move, so much as ripple and hiss.
"Welcome home." it wisped. And Harry despite all the stares, the hostility, and the utter insanity of his life, relaxed. And for a moment he was Harry, simply Harry the Slytherin. Then the yelling began.
The first to begin against Harry was Harry.
Harry of the Slytherin table couldn't hear what he said exactly, but the gist was apparent. Apparently the Gryffindor was storming away to write his parents. He was flanked by Seamus, Dean, and Ron. All of who were shooting nasty glares and looking in general, outraged. The rest of the hall was reduced to yelling over each other, discussing this new development and glancing rapidly back and forth between the two Potters.
Surprisingly, Dumbledore did nothing to hinder the shouts of out rage, and a few subtle hexes sent at him under the table. It was the fastest Harry had ever seen the school turn against him. But it was still nothing new. Ignoring all but the hexes, which he deflected into hapless Ravencalws, Harry dug into his dinner.
Above him black eyes burned holes into him. But he would not turn. His life was dead and all the people he had loved with it. He would die in a few years anyway. Maybe he should kill himself before Dumbledore managed to spend any money on him….
But he was Slytherin, and if there's one thing Slytherins are good for, it was survival. Well, that and destroying rivals but it was really the same thing to most of their twisted minds….
The dorm was easy for Harry to find, due to certain adventures in his second year. Behind him trailed the more curious Slytherins, as well as his new year mates. Harry stopped at the blank stretch of wall where the Slytherin common room was housed, and turned to raise an eyebrow at the crowd following him. They stared. Harry stared. The paintings on the wall stared. Harry blinked and so did everyone else.
"Knockturn" came the voice of one of the students. The wall slid open and everyone stepped inside. They all arranged them selves around the fireplace, Harry in the front looking at the familiar faces of enemies and a few distant friends. Ginny Weasley was surprisingly present, and Harry desperately wished he could have see the casket that Ron was sure to have blown when that had happened. The arrival of Professor Severus Snape saved them all from another staring contest.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't our new celebrity. Welcome to Slytherin, Mister Potter." came Snape's voice and Harry wondered if the man had used the same words when his other self had arrived in the potions class, well minus the not quite frozen welcome. Turning to the rest of the room, Snape began a speech very much like Dumbledore's telling his little snakes to welcome there newest member to there ranks and not hold anything from his doppelganger against him. That made Harry uncomfortable. Was his other self a carbon copy of his father? The way the other Gryffindor boys had followed reminded Harry strongly of the Marauders. Were they all giant prats like his father? And who was there target? Looking at the Slytherins it want hard to guess. Malfoy looked mildly annoyed, with Crabbe and Goyle cracking there fists looking murderous. It would probably take a very long time for them to tell the difference between the two of him. Blaise Zabini was shooting him frightened looks until he realized he was doing it. Then he just drew his arms around himself and stared at the floor. Harry figured that Zabini was the 'Snivellus' of the Slytherins; taking most of the crap the Marauders must deal out. The other years, younger ones expressly were looking less than trusting.
Oh the luck of a Potter, he hadn't been hear ten minuets and he alredy had plenty of foes.
oOoOo So there you have it. A miracle. I kid you not because I though that I would never resolve certain issues with in the story. But then they're fixed now so enjoy. I'm not gong to update often because I am manic-depressant so I'll pretty much randomly update whenever I get into a "creative mood" and you'll probably then get a lot of chapters at once…. Whatever see ya all later Noclaf
Submit ReviewReport Possible AbuseAdd Story to FavoritesAdd Author to FavoritesAdd Author to Author AlertAdd Story to C2 Archive 1. Malfunction2. Dead Things3. Rather Rude4. Welcome Home