Disclaimer: I didn't come up with this Harry Potter stuff… all of the characters and places belong to Ms. Joanne Kathleen Rowling. (Who was born on July 31, 1965!)
A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Jon for two reasons. One, he seemed to be highly amused by much of this chapter, and two, because I stole a few of his perverted teenage thoughts to add to Harry's hormones! Thanks, Jon!
Chapter 4: The Sorting, the Surprise
Harry was annoyed. The trip to Hogwarts was long and boring, especially since he spent the whole time listening to Luna have a conversation with Ginny. Neville looked out the window miserably, and Harry longed to have Luna jump in his arms… but she was on the other end of the compartment.
It was obvious that Luna liked Ron. She had been talking about him nearly the whole time, even when he was around. As sixth year prefects, Ron and Hermione only popped in every ten minutes or so, since they were monitoring the halls of the Hogwarts Express.
And who else was to be Head Girl, but Harry's ex girlfriend: Cho Chang? It hurt to think about their past relationship, for the same question hit Harry over the head all summer: What the HELL was he thinking?
And to top it all off, Harry believed he was the boy that everyone knew but no one liked. Ginny had a boyfriend, Luna liked Ron, Hermione obviously liked Ron… God, does everyone like Ron these days?
It didn't matter. So Harry was a loser… big deal. He was certain he was going down the right path when Ginny liked him for a few years, followed by Cho… at least it was someone… but now, Cho was avoiding Harry like the plague and on top of it all: Ginny had a boyfriend. The only one Harry really wanted was Luna, but she seemed focused on other matters.
Okay, so Harry wasn't annoyed. He was jealous. Why, so suddenly, did he care about girls so much? Why was he suddenly noticing everything about them, from the way their hair is styled to what shoes they are wearing?
I'll talk to Sirius about it…thought Harry. Yeah, that was it. But his heart was already sinking. He knew Sirius was dead, but it still hadn't sunk in. Seeing him plunge to his deal behind a mysterious veil hadn't been enough… he wanted his Godfather back.
As his attitude was slowing ebbing away, Harry started to contemplate the year ahead. Certainly a year at Hogwarts was never normal; especially for him. But he sure hoped for the best and most normal year possible.
He could sense the failure, the fun, the excitement, and the fear a year of Hogwarts held. He couldn't wait to get back on the Quidditch field, since his lifetime ban had been lifted when Umbridge left.
And thinking of Umbridge… who had taken over the spot for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post? Who had Dumbledore appointed? Harry was certain the job would easy to get, but no one would want it… who could teach in a jinxed job?
But Harry was falling asleep. He was extremely tired, and he didn't care that Luna was watching him with wide and curious eyes. He only knew that his dreams would be filled with her and only she, for the moon would shine bright tonight.
The Hogwarts Express was rattling to a stop. The windows were covered in a new sheet of rain, and Harry had slept through most of the journey. Fatigued faces stared out through compartment doors, making clear evidence of their attempts to take naps through the storm that had just happened. No one had got much sleep; no one but Harry.
Luna's eyes were as wide as they ever were. She was alert, and Harry wondered if she ever closed those eyes of hers in fear that she might miss something. Luna seemed like the girl that was amazed with everything, and always knew there was something new to see.
He wished he was one of those things Luna longed to stare at… just that extra eye candy. As Harry was thinking these thoughts, he had a rather perverted notion. Luna, Ginny and Hermione were all in their compartment… there are six boobs in this room!
Harry had never had a thought like that before, and he decided he would keep those views to a minimal.
The train was halting in the Hogsmeade station, so Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna and Ginny all left the compartment together, and waited for the doors to open so they could proceed to the thestral-drawn carriages that would take them to Hogwarts.
Year six, thought Harry. He couldn't believe he had made it that far, with all the threats to his life not only in his fifth year, but in his whole life. As a baby, Harry had survived the deadly avada kedavra curse. In return, Harry had gotten his lightning shaped scar, which served as a curse within itself. Everyone knew who Harry Potter was, for the mark stood out on his forehead. Also, the murderer who had given him this scar, deadly in his name, sometimes accidentally spoke to Harry through the white hot pain that shot through the scar like lightning.
Voldemort, as some called him. Most called him You-Know-Who, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or if cunning enough: The Dark Lord. The man had always considered himself a Lord, but Harry knew he had only given himself that name after striking fear on the entire wizard populous. Only a select group of people dared to call him Voldemort.
Professor Dumbledore's true followers seemed to be the only ones. Harry had called Voldemort You-Know-Who for most of his first year, and had found it increased fear of the person who had killed his parents and so many others. "Fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself." Dumbledore had told Harry when he was in the hospital wing after capturing the powerful sorcerer's stone.
From that day on, Harry had always called Voldemort by his proper name, and despite what others thought, he continued. Harry couldn't pretend he didn't know that Voldemort was amused by it… he knew Voldemort could laugh for hours on how Harry was "falsely brave."
And what bothered Harry the most was that he was… Harry, though all this time had thought himself brave, knew he couldn't face Voldemort again.
The sorting hat was silent. The first years waited nervously for it to do something, and the older students simply waited in bated breath for the new song. Last year, the sorting hat had given a warning… a warning to unite the houses.
Harry felt sick to his stomach. He didn't know anyone who was being sorted, and therefore he didn't care much. Hermione was eagerly staring over the heads of their fellow Gryffindors to get a good look at the new students, and Ron had his wand out and was making his fork dance across his plate.
"Bloody hell," he said. "On with the sorting, I don't think I can go another minute without food!"
"Ron," Hermione started, "you ate twelve chocolate frogs on the train! I think you can wait for the sorting to get finished first, and give these first years the respect they deserve! I bet you wouldn't feel so hot if you'd heard a nasty sixth year prefect begging for food right before your sorting!"
Ron rolled his eyes. "I don't think I'd have cared so much, because I was too concerned that we would have to wrestle a troll."
Hermione sighed drastically. "But that's only because Fred and-"
"How are the twins anyhow?" Harry interrupted. "I haven't heard from either of them since they left Hogwarts last year."
"Mum's disowned them." Ron said with distaste. "She doesn't think respectable gentlemen own joke shops. Of course, she'll warm up to them come Christmas. She always does, even with Percy."
Percy, the third to oldest Weasley, had turned against his family and went with the Ministry of Magic the previous year. Harry had remembered Ron receiving a letter from Percy telling Ron to start avoiding both Harry and Dumbledore, and Harry still wasn't feeling too warm towards Percy.
"Why isn't the hat doing anything?" Seamus Finnigan wondered. "It's just… sitting there."
Hearing this, Harry focused his attention on the old wizard's hat. It was, indeed, doing nothing. Harry wondered if the hat had run out of songs to sing, but that seemed hardly possible.
Suddenly, the hat opened a mouth and sang:
In times of old when I was new
And Hogwarts barely started
The founders of our noble school
Thought never to be parted:
United by a common goal,
They had the selfsame yearning,
To make the world's best magic school
And pass along their learning.
"Together we will build and teach!"
The four good friends decided
And never did they dream that they
Might someday be divided,
For were there such friends anywhere
As Slytherin and Gryffindor?
Unless it was the second pair
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?
So how could it have gone so wrong?
How could such friendships fail?
Why, I was there and so can tell
The whole sad, sorry tale.
Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those
Whose ancestry is purest."
Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach all those whose
Intelligence is surest."
Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those
With brave deeds to their name,"
Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot
And treat them just the same."
These differences caused little strife
When they first came to light,
For each of the four founders had
A house in which they might
Take only those they wanted, so,
For instance, Slytherin
Took only pure-blood wizards
Of great cunning just like him,
And only those of sharpest mind
Were taught by Ravenclaw
While the bravest and the boldest
Went to daring Gryffindor.
Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest
And taught them all she knew,
Thus the houses and their founders
Retained friendships firm and true.
So Hogwarts worked in harmony
For several happy hears,
But then discord crept among us,
Feeding our faults and fears.
The Houses that, like pillars four,
Had once held up our school,
Now turned upon each other and,
Divided, sought to rule.
And for a while it seemed the school
Must meet an early end,
What with dueling and with fighting
And the clash of friend on friend
And at last there came a morning
When old Slytherin departed
And though the fighting then died out
He left us quite downhearted.
And never since the founders four
Were whittled down to three
Have the Houses been united
And they once were meant to be.
And now the Sorting Hat is here
And you all know the score:
I sort you into Houses
Because that is what I'm for,
But this year I'll go further,
Listen closely to my song:
Though condemned I am to split you
Still I worry that it's wrong,
Though I must fulfill my duty
And must quarter every year
Still I wonder whether sorting
May not bring the end I fear.
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,
The warning history shows,
For our Hogwarts is in danger
From external, deadly foes
And we must unite inside her
Or we'll crumble from within
I have told you, I have warned you...
Let the sorting now begin.
The hall was silent. Not even Dumbledore was clapping at what the sorting hat had just sung. The seconds of silence lasted for an eternity, before Dean Thomas leaned across the table to ask Seamus something.
"Isn't that the same song it sang last year?"
Seamus said nothing, and tiny conversations were now popping up around the hall at different times, causing Dumbledore to break the conversation by clapping a few times and standing up.
"I have a few start of the term announcements to make before the feast begins." he said, and the Great Hall fell silent at his voice. "Taking over the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts classes will be Nymphadora Tonks, who is an auror and a Metamorphamagus. We're all very excited to have her here this year."
Harry choked on the extra chocolate frog he was eating. "WHAT?"
A few people around put finger to their lips to shut him up, but nothing could mute the surprise Harry felt by learning that Tonks was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
Looking up at the staff table, Harry noticed that Tonks winked at him. Today, she had normal long blonde hair and a slender nose, and Harry noticed that a few guys were gawking at her and whispering to their friends behind their hands.
"That being said, I will not postpone the sorting any longer." Dumbledore said suddenly, who looked as though he had forgotten there were still students to sort. "I just want you all to give Professor Tonks a warm welcome to our humble Hogwarts home!"
Everyone clapped as Professor McGonagall sighed and took the long bit of parchment from her pocket. "Abercrombie, Nathan!" she called out to the hall and a blonde boy stumbled forward.
Harry looked over at second year Euan Abercrombie, who wasn't even looking at his little brother, but at the sorting hat. Though the hat was not moving, the twelve year old boy was looking at it dangerously, as though frightened for his life.
"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted, causing huge amounts of applause at the Gryffindor table.
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat to call out the next name. "Cork, David!" she called. The hat thought for a moment before shouting out that David Cork belonged in Slytherin.
The sorting continued on until McGonagall read off a certain name, and Harry punched Ron in the arm to get him to stop complaining.
"Evans, Mark!"
A familiar boy with blazing red hair and dazzling green eyes stumbled forward, placing the sorting hat upon his head.