A/N: Disclaimers and such on first chapter. Bit of a misleading chapter title, but I thought it had a ring to it!


Underestimated

Hat Attack

Harry opened one eye in what he knew was a pained expression. All faces were turned to him, some looking nervous, some sympathetic, some looking downright ecstatic. He just sat there for a while; shoulders slumped, staring at the worn wood of the Gryffindor table.

"Harry, you better go up there." Hermione murmured after several moments of silence.

He watched as his legs moved of their own accord and he slowly rose out of his seat, stepping over the bench and striding out between the tables. He kept his eyes on the floor, muttering angrily to himself as he passed rows of students that he was sure were all thinking- I'm glad that isn't me.

Professor McGonagall came into view as he came nearer the front of the hall. She had a peculiar look on her face and Harry wondered if she was upset about the prospect of him changing houses. He couldn't see why – Harry must have lost the house more points since he started Hogwarts than the rest of the students in his year combined.

As he turned to sit on the stool he braved a look at Snape. My future head of house, Harry thought wryly. This brought a forced smile to his face which he directed at the potions-master. Might as well start building bridges. Snape just sat there with his arms folded and narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

Harry turned his head back to the four house tables and caught a last thumbs-up from Ron before the hat was settled on his head. Because he had indeed grown since first year, the hat sat comfortably on his black hair and did not cover his face as it had done before. Still, Harry closed his eyes in order to concentrate better on his impending doom.

He supposed the hat might put him in Ravenclaw… Perhaps he was jumping to conclusions too soon. Even Hufflepuff would be- well, would it? Thinking it through, Harry decided he didn't really want to be re-sorted into Hufflepuff. Not that he was being-

Would you like some help in your deliberations? Came an amused voice that cut off his train of thought, Or am I merely keeping your head warm tonight? Don't get me wrong, I don't mind- I am a hat after all.

"Sorry." Harry muttered uncomfortably, thanking all the heavens that Snape's mind-reading wasn't as finely honed as the hat's.

Not at all, not at all. Now, Mr Potter, it is good to see you again.

Harry tried not to deliberate too much on the hat's use of 'see', knowing full well that it had access to all of his thoughts.

In quite a situation here aren't we now? I remember quite well the protest that you put up against entering Slytherin in your first year.

"I'm quite prepared to put up a protest again." Harry said, the many ways he could be strangled in his sleep by Slytherin students flashing through his mind. He added threateningly, "And I know more hexes now too."

The hat was quiet for a moment and Harry smirked in triumph, taking this to be a sign of defeat. He then realised in horror the two people he most associated with smirking. It appeared the hat had cottoned-on to this also, as it told him quietly,

You're more suited to that house than you think.

Harry felt his grip tightening on the edges of the stool, "No I'm not."

The hat sounded like it was smiling, How many students do you think I get up here that are prepared to threaten me with magic if they don't get their way?

Harry considered this whilst biting his bottom lip and decided to remain silent.

I won't tell you the last young man who did, as I'm sure it would only make you more uncomfortable… Suffice to say I had little choice on the matter, his bloodline being what it was.

There was silence as Harry processed what he had just been told. Bloodline as in- Slytherin bloodline? Riddle? Tom Riddle had threatened the hat? But he had been a psychotic- Harry hadn't threatened it maliciously. And besides, he thought, trying to relieve the guilty feeling swirling around inside his chest - how would he go about hexing something sitting on his head anyway?

"I wouldn't really have hexed you, you know." He told the hat slowly, "And besides, that's all the more reason not to put me in Slytherin. They're all a bunch of blood-proud lunatics, I'd be killed."

You know I had rather hoped that you'd have grown out of these prejudices.

"I'm not prejudiced." Harry grumbled.

Hmm. Well then, why don't we compromise? The hat fell silent for a moment. I won't put you in Slytherin… How does Hufflepuff sound?

"What?" Harry sat there stunned, "No."

It had come out of his mouth before he had realised what he'd said. And the implications that it had.

And why not? The smile sounded like it had returned to the hat's voice. No prejudices, eh?

"Well you see-"

And I'm afraid Ravenclaw just won't do, you're far too… high spirited for that house…

"Hold on now, I-"

The hat sounded almost playful now,speaking with a bounce on each word, It's going to have to be…

"Don't you dare." Harry ground out.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry sat there for a few moments just listening to the mutterings and whispers that had erupted from the house tables, keeping his eyes firmly closed so that he didn't have to see his friend's faces.

The hat sounded very pleased with itself as it added seriously, Don't be put off by first impressions,allow it time.

Harry didn't have a chance to reply before the hat was removed from his head and Professor McGonagall's stern face came into view.

"Were you planning on sitting there all evening?"

Harry stood up so that she could place the hat back on the stool. Dumbledore called out the next name as McGonagall drew Harry to the side. Sweeping his eyes across the room he took in the dismayed faces of his Gryffindor friends, Ron's wide open mouth, Hermione's it'll-be-okay expression, and Neville's oh-my-god-you're-going-to-be-murdered look. His gaze also took in the suspicious looks of several pupils, and the afraid glances that some were shooting him. It was the whole Heir-of-Slytherin thing all over again.

He looked across at the hat, a scowl on his face,

"I think you need a new hat Professor," He watched as the sorting hat turned to listen, "This one's broken."

She folded her arms and showed no sign of hearing him, but to Harry's dismay, rather than getting mad at his words, the hat started giving a little dance on it's stool. In fact it looked so ridiculous that Harry felt a grin creeping across his face which he quickly smothered in irritation. Now was hardly the time to be grinning.

"You're going to have to sit down at the Slytherin table." McGonagall whispered to him, "Off you go now, quickly."

Thankfully, the next student (who happened to be a Ravenclaw girl Harry recognised from Charms classes) had taken up position on the stool. This meant that Harry was able to walk over to the Slytherin table without much trouble as most of the hall were now watching her being sorted. The next problem though, was where on earth was he supposed to sit?

Harry scanned the length of the table. The majority of sixth year students were up near the top of the table and Harry had a flash-urge to waltz up there and settle himself down next to Malfoy and Co. He'd show them a thing or two about arrogance. A mixture of Petunia Dursley, Professor Lockhart, and Umbridge entered his mind. But, he decided, after a second's deliberation, that that probably wasn't the best way to go about building 'inter-house relations', and so he settled for a seat with the first year Slytherins.

What young, innocent and impressionable minds, he thought with a little smile as a short brown haired boy moved aside to give him space. Lots of bright eyes looked up at him expectantly and he suddenly wondered if this had been such a good idea.

"Er… hello." He said quietly to those nearest him.

Several replies were audible from the first years, some sounding more pleased with his presence than others.

"You're Harry Potter."

Harry looked over to a round faced boy with tufty brown hair. He didn't think that this deserved a reply and instead gave a short nod. This seemed to be enough for the table of first years, and so they turned back to watch the sorting.

Harry took the next few minutes to see how Snape had reacted to his re-sorting but found (somewhat thankfully) that the teacher wasn't visible from where he was sitting. If I can't see him, he can't see me, he thought happily.However, he'd be seeing plenty of him later, Harry was sure.

By the time the food had appeared on the large table Harry had almost fallen asleep. The first years weren't exactly riveting company, so he had decided to concentrate on what was to come tonight. Apart from answering the odd worried question on teachers and classes, he kept quiet and tried to calm his nerves. The prospect of spending the night in the Slytherin dormitories made his stomach twist and he found that the usually appetising feast had become decidedly less appetising.

Harry pushed his plate away from him and rested his head in his hand, elbow sitting on the table. As he glanced up the Slytherin table a second year girl noticed him looking and gave him a very deliberate glare. Harry blinked, startled at the ferocity in her face and looked back at his goblet. His Slytherin goblet.

If that was what the second years thought of him, how in all-that-was-holy would he survive the rest of the house?


Hope you're enjoying it so far. Bit slow I know, but will pick up pace I promise. x x x