Disclaimer: I'm not J. K. Rowling so I don't own the plot or characters.
The Janus Order
Chapter 2
Harry, clothed in his formal black robe, waited until the last of the first years had passed the staircase behind which he was hiding. As quietly as possible he slid behind the pack. No one noticed that there was suddenly one more student then had disembarked from the boats.
He hadn't arrived by train but had been at Hogwarts for two months. He arrived in London via British Airways. Professor Snape met him at Heathrow and escorted Harry to Diagon Alley where they bought the recommended school supplies and a few odds and ends that the potions master said would come in handy during his studies. Harry's actual arrival to Hogwarts came by way of the floo network.
Most of July and August had been spent with Professor Dumbledore and a retired Auror named Alastor Moody learning Legilimency and Occlumency as well as about Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Dumbledore remained concerned about loading more on Harry then he could handle at such a young age but Moody had no such worries.
"You can't fight evil from a position of weakness or ignorance," he continuously said. "Constant Vigilance! Be prepared! Expect the unexpected!"
To ensure that Harry got some relaxation and exercise, Dumbledore also taught Harry the basics of riding a broomstick.
"It's not your horses, I know," he told Harry. "But they'll have to do."
"Can the thestrals be riddened," Harry had asked.
Dumbledore looked momentarily startled but he recovered quickly. "They can, young Harry, but let's stick with broomsticks for awhile, shall we."
"Well, they smell better anyway," Harry joked.
Much to Dumbledore's surprise and relief, Harry and Severus got along fairly well. Severus even had gone so far as to begin to teach Harry the fundamentals of potion brewing and the more common ingredients used in the art.
"He's a good egg," Snape said to Dumbledore and McGonagall during a lunch some three weeks after he had brought Harry to Hogwarts. "He's respectful, intelligent and grasps concepts and principles readily. How he could be Potter's son and been raised by Black yet turn out like he did is beyond me. I think maybe we ought to recruit more students from Canada."
"He's Lily's boy through and through," Minerva said sipping her tea. "Even if he is a mirror image of his father."
Professor McGonagall had left the first years alone in the antechamber. Most of them fell to whispering amongst themselves as to what awaited them. They were nervous, excited, and some were even a wee bit frightened. The bushy haired girl in front of Harry seemed more so the most by the way she kept shifting her weight from one leg to the other. After a few moments, Harry realized what ailed her.
"Girls Lavatory's that second door on the right," he said softly in her ear.
She was momentary torn between fear of having the professor return before she got back and the pressure of her bladder. The bladder won. Heads turned as she scampered away. When they realized where she was going, two other girls broke ranks and quickly followed her.
"Is there a gents?" one pleasant faced boy asked in an Irish lilt.
Harry pretended to looked around. "That first door there says boys on it." He said pointing to his right.
"Thank God," someone exclaimed as five boys rushed to it.
A tall, slender, blond boy, so pale that Harry wondered if he had ever been out in the sunlight, piped up from near the front of the group. "Are you an American? You talk funny."
"I'm from Canada,"
"What's the difference?" he smirked causing two large boys by him to laugh.
Harry ignored the slight about his adopted land. A lot of people had trouble accepting Canada as a sovereign nation state instead of some odd addendum to the United States. The fact that you could tuck two United Kingdoms into Alberta and still have room left over probably never occurred to the blond kid.
One by one, those who had left returned to the pack most of them looking somewhat less nervous. The bushy haired girl especially looked calm.
"Thank you," she said gratefully.
Professor McGonagall chose that moment to return.
"Follow me," she commanded and lead the first years into the great hall.
Harry enjoyed the sorting ceremony. He tried to guess which house someone was going to be placed in by what little he observed of them. He was usually wrong. The ceremony was going smoothly until Professor McGonagall called out Harry's name. The fact that The Boy Who Lived was reentering the everyday life of Magical Britain had been a closely guarded secret, unknown to anyone not in Dumbledore's inner circle. The hall exploded with conversation as everyone craned their necks to get a look at Harry.
Harry calmly sat down on the stool and awaited his fate. Dumbledore had told him that the selection of houses was entirely up to the hat which McGonagall lowered on to his head.
"Well, well, laddie," Harry heard the Hat's thoughts inside of his mind. "Where shall we put you?"
"Does it really matter?" Harry thought back at the Hat.
The Sorting Hat chuckled. "Between you, me, and the stool, kid, the only two differences is that one, you are more at ease with people of a similar nature and the other is who ends up on your Christmas card list twenty years after you graduate. In light of the reason that you are here, I going to place you in…."
"GRYFFINDOR"
Harry looked oddly at the Gryffindor table where pandemonium erupted. With a slight shake of his head, he left the dais and walked over to where the rest of his now housemates were.
"Good Grief," He thought as they swarmed over him. Professor Snape had warned him to expect this sort of reaction but Harry simply could not understand about being famous for something he couldn't even remember. He briefly wondered if the house elves were going to move his stuff from the unused teacher's apartment that he had been staying in to the Gryffindor dormitory before he gave himself to the crowd.
