Quick Author's Note: Credit for the Sorting Hat's song is shared with my friend, BM, who gave me the rough draft before I made finishing touches. Thanks!!

Chapter 34, Sorting Feast and Mandrakes

Harry was seated at the Slytherin table when the students poured in. Vanella and Draco came in close to first, seating themselves across from him.

The first thing Draco did was apologize for his father's performance at Flourish and Blott's.

"S'alright, Draco. I don't expect everyone to like me."

"No, see, I even told him you were my friend. He doesn't care, he only cares that you destroyed You-Know-Who." His voice dropped to a whisper that only Harry and Vanella could catch. "He was a big supporter before his downfall. We've got so much Dark Arts stuff hidden in our house."

"Isn't the Ministry performing searches now? For Dark Arts stuff like that?" Vanella asked.

Draco nodded. "That's why he was in a sour mood yesterday. He had just been selling things in Knockturn Alley, because the Ministry decided to meddle in his privacy."

Harry and Vanella nodded as the first years lined up in front of the congregation. Minerva McGonagall had put the Sorting Hat in its usual spot for the Sorting.

The hat's mouth opened and it began to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

Though I could be considered striking,

Don't judge on my appearance

If that's not to your liking.

Now let me back to my appointed subject,

And introduce myself to you,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat,

And reading your mind is what I do.

There's nothing hidden in your head,

That I, the Sorting Hat, can't see.

Unless you've a pea-brain full of lead,

There's nothing you can hide from me.

You may belong in Gryffindor,

Where most all have courage as a lion.

Their bravery, nerves and chivalry,

Place them their house in.

Or perhaps you belong in Hufflepuff;

Where all are just and loyal.

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true,

And unafraid of toil.

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind, full of wit,

Along with the ability to learn,

And satisfaction for what they get.

But perhaps you belong in Slytherin,

Where your real friends you'll acquire.

Those cunning persons use any means

To achieve their greatest desire.

I can see it all; no secrets here!

I see all that there is to see.

So step on up; put me on!

I'll tell you where you ought to be."

When it finished, Professor McGonagall unrolled a piece of parchment and began calling names for the Sorting Ceremony.

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The sorting went off without a hitch, Ron's little sister joining the rest of the family in Gryffindor, and a few others being sorted into each house.

Once the students were settled in, sitting with their newly acquired family, Dumbledore stood to give his yearly announcement.

"Nothing exciting this year, students, just the always insistent urge that you stay away from the Forbidden Forest, because, as you might guess, it is forbidden. Also, Mr. Filch has added more things to the forbidden items list this year, and that list is posted on the door of his office, if you feel the need to check it. Now that that's over with, enjoy the feast!"

The food appeared and everyone began to eat.

Harry looked down at his plate, where a chicken leg had already made its home. "How did this get here? I didn't—" he felt a tug at his navel and the world began to spin. He closed his eyes.

When the spinning stopped and Harry opened his eyes, it was to a very shocked Dursley family.

"YOU!" Vernon Dursley shouted, standing quickly, knocking over his chair and disturbing the glasses and food on the kitchen table.

Petunia Dursley and a very chubby Dudley Dursley just sat, gaping at the boy that just appeared between their kitchen table and the hallway.

"What are you doing in my house! Just appearing like you own the place. No doubt using that filth!"

"Uncle Vernon—"

"Don't you 'Uncle Vernon' me! You're supposed to be far, far away, stuck with some foster family, or dead!"

"Well—"

"Who gave you the right to even come back here!"

"I—"

"Don't you go talking to me like we're friends! We—"

"UNCLE VERNON! Silence!"

Vernon Dursley stopped talking very abruptly. He was not used to being yelled at by the nephew he had treated so badly.

"I did not mean to come here, I promise. I would never come back here had I any option at all, and I don't know how I got here in the first place." He looked down at the chicken leg still in his hand. "I suspect it had something to do with this," he said maliciously, throwing the leg at Vernon's forehead. It clanked off the head of a very shocked Dursley.

The rage was rolling off Harry in waves, and, as much as he tried to concentrate, Harry couldn't teleport himself back to Hogwarts. Harry growled and walked out the front door. He morphed painfully and carelessly into a thestral and took to the air.

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Two hours later he arrived on the front lawn of Hogwarts, landing next to the lake and galloping up to the front doors.

They were locked. The feast was over, and everyone was settling themselves into their dorms.

Harry stopped and tried to concentrate. He teleported himself to in front of the gargoyle of Dumbledore's office. It jumped away from the entrance, having been charmed to recognize him from all his trips during the summer. Harry climbed the stairs and knocked on the door, fuming.

"Come in," said a voice from the inside.

Harry entered and found himself face to face with most of the staff. He was angry enough to be smoking from the ears.

"Hello, Harry," Albus said.

"Hello, Headmaster," Harry responded through clenched teeth. "Would you like to inform me of why a piece of chicken transported me all the way back to the Dursley's kitchen? And then that I couldn't get through the front doors?"

"Oh, that's what happened? You caused quite an uproar disappearing like that."

"It's not my fault! What the bloody hell did that?"

"Most likely a portkey. Do you still have the chicken, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "I may have…accidentally, of course…" –he cleared his throat— "…thrown it at my Uncle's head."

Albus hid a smile successfully. "We will try to find the one who set up the portkey to the Dursley's house. When we find them they will be given efficient punishment, but until then, I believe your dorm members are worried about your whereabouts."

With a nod to all the other professors, Harry left.

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Harry's first class of term was Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws. McGonagall was having them transfigure beetles into buttons.

Harry immediately raised his hand. Professor McGonagall called on him.

"Can I do this without my wand, Professor?"

"Do you not have it?"

"Professor Dumbledore told me not to carry it around unless I had to."

"Oh. Well, then, can you do it without your wand?"

"Probably."

"Then stop talking and try with the rest of the class!"

With the hard work of the lesson, the confusion around Harry's lack of wand disappeared. Few people managed to turn their beetles into buttons because of their lack of practice over the summer. Vanella and Draco both managed, but Harry had a little trouble.

Afterwards, they headed to Herbology with the Hufflepuffs. Professor Sprout ushered them to Greenhouse Three.

"We'll be repotting Mandrakes today. Who can tell me what Mandrakes are?" she asked, standing beside a trestle bench in the middle of the greenhouse. A bunch of earmuffs were on the bench.

Justin Finch-Fletchley raised his hand, and Sprout called on him for the answer. He said, "The Mandrake is a powerful restorative. It's a very important part of most antidotes."

"Very good. Ten points to Hufflepuff," said Professor Sprout. "So, who can tell me why Mandrakes are also dangerous?"

Finch-Fletchley's hand raised again, and he said, "The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to those who hear it."

"Precisely. Another ten points. Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young." She pointed to a row of deep trays while she spoke. The students shuffled forward for a better look. In the trays were a hundred or so purplish-green, tufty little plants, growing in rows. They didn't look particularly exciting to Harry, who didn't really understand about the 'cry' of the Mandrake, as he read more about charms and hexes and potions, not herbology.

"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs," said Professor Sprout.

They all scrambled to retrieve a pair of earmuffs that wasn't pink and fluffy.

"When I say so, put them on and make sure that your ears are completely covered. This is dangerous, remember," said Professor Sprout. "When it's safe to remove them, I'll give you the thumbs-up. Ready? Earmuffs on."

Harry snapped the earphones over his ears while Vanella and Draco did the same. Up at the front, Professor Sprout put the pink, fluffy earmuffs over her own ears, rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grabbed one of the purplish tufts and pulled—hard.

Harry's eyes widened considerably.

Instead of roots, a small, muddy and incredibly ugly baby popped out of the pot. The leaves were growing right out of its ugly head. It had pale green, mottled skin, and was clearly bawling at the top of his lungs.

Professor Sprout took a larger plant pot from under the table and stuffed the Mandrake into it, covering it with dark, damp compost until only the tufted leaves were visible. Professor Sprout dusted off her hands and gave the students the thumbs-up sign. Then she removed her own earmuffs. The class followed suit.

"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet," she said calmly. "However, they will knock you out for a few hours, and since none of you want to miss the rest of your first day back, make sure that your earmuffs are firmly in place. I'll attract your attention when it is time to pack up.

Four to a tray—there's a large supply of pots here—compost in the sacks over there—and be careful of the Venemous Tentacula, it's teething."

Vanella, Draco, and Harry went to a tray, and were soon joined by the Hufflepuff boy, Justin Finch-Flechley.

They didn't talk much after a quick exchange of words, as they had to snap their earmuffs on to concentrate on the Mandrakes. The Mandrakes didn't like coming out of the pots, but they didn't like going back in either. Professor Sprout had made it look much easier than it actually was. They squirmed, kicked, flailed their sharp little fists, and gnashed their teeth. Harry spent ten minutes trying to squash a particularly fat one into a pot.

By the end of the class, Harry, like everyone else, was sweaty, aching, and covered in earth. Everyone traipsed back to the castle for lunch.

Harry charmed Vanella, Draco, and himself clean before walking into the Great Hall.

"What's next?" he asked Vanella.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts with Lockhart. Ought to be interesting."

Harry snorted. "Yea, interesting. That's the word."

Draco grabbed a ham sandwich and began to eat. "I hear Lockhart's a big fake."

Vanella nodded as Harry said, "I bet. When I told him to attack me the other day, he couldn't even hit me with a spell. I petrified him, no problems."

"Told him to attack you?" Draco said in disbelief, still chewing.

Harry nodded up and down and finished chewing. He swallowed hard. "I didn't tell you? Well, Dumbledore's been training me in self-defense and dueling and such, and wandless magic. All the Professors attacked me at least a hundred times, and each of them must have gotten at least one shot in. Except Lockhart."

"Self defense and dueling?"

"Wandless magic?"

"And—" Harry leaned in and lowered his voice to a whisper "—they trained me to be an animagus."

Vanella's eyes widened. "You're an animagus, Harry?"

Harry nodded.

"What animal do you become?" asked Draco.

Harry leaned back again. "A thestral."

Both of them furrowed their eyebrows. "Thestral?"

Harry nodded again. "Yes. Dumbledore says that Hagrid has a pack tamed and trained, but they're usually dangerous. Some pull the school carriages. They're horse-like."

"Pull the school carriages? Those pull themselves, don't they? I never saw any horse-like animals pulling the carriages," Draco said.

"Neither have I," said Vanella.

Harry took another bite of the apple he had started. "That's because they're only visible to people who have seen death."

Vanella shivered lightly, frowning. "That's kind of dark, Harry."

"I know."

Draco looked over Vanella's shoulder at something going on at the Gryffindor table. "What's going on?"

Harry looked and Vanella turned. "Oh," she said, "it would appear that Ron's seen Hermione's schedule."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "What's wrong with Hermione's schedule?"

"She's decorated all the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes with little hearts. She's got a thing for Lockhart."

Harry grimaced. "She'll see the err of her ways eventually."

"Hopefully the first time he makes a fool of himself," Draco said.

Vanella snorted.

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Author's Note: Okay, that's enough for today. Um… the next chapter is the first Defense Against the Dark Arts class. "Ought to be interesting."

There a three chapter update. Sorry I was this long getting these up, but I was overloaded with the beginning of school and too lazy to sit down and proofread everything. But, yesterday I took out the computer and proofread all the way to C43, then wrote another two. Maybe I'll make a pattern of the days I update now, just to keep it in some sort of order. How about, in a couple days, I'll put up another. Or maybe tomorrow. Depends on reviews, I guess.

I can almost promise it won't be this long though. It drives me insane when someone doesn't post for this long, so I'm going to do my best not to drive you all insane.

Until next time. Which should hopefully be soon. Toodles.