Disclaimer: I (obviously) don't own Harry Potter.
Thanks to everyone who's reading and reviewing :)
So... Everyone thought he was dead. That was great.
He should have predicted this would happen. After all apparently half of wizarding Britain had spent the past year searching for him - he'd seen the 'missing' posters when he'd gone to Diagon Alley, sharing a strained look with his father at the faceless poster: he'd been only a baby when they'd last seen him, they didn't know what he looked like now, the only descriptors were dark hair, green eyes and a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead (how they knew that Harry had no idea).
Luckily Harry didn't have dark hair and green eyes anymore: his eyes blue with the contacts - he no longer hid them because he wanted to forget about his birth parents, now he used them as a disguise - and his hair still blonde from after his accident. Harry now knew this must have been some type of magic, accidental maybe, but maybe not because his hair was still a dirty blonde (opposite to the sleek platinum of Draco Malfoy) and Harry had learnt that accidental magic was normally temporary - like with the lion at that school.
Perhaps it was some other form of magic, Harry absentmindedly wondered, casting it to the back of his mind as he tried to focus on the sorting in front of him.
"Creevey, Colin." Was sorted into Gryffindor as Harry gently raised his hand to his forehead, where the concealer covered his scar, before shaking his head and running his hand through his hair - something which was becoming a nervous habit.
"I just want the food already." Anthony moaned desperately - as though he hadn't spent the entire train ride stuffing his mouth with chocolate frogs and fizzing whizzbees.
"I second that." Michael asserted, tapping his knife and fork on the table as though he was about to start a riot for food.
Perhaps it was a good thing, Harry mused, if everyone thought he was dead then no one would be looking for him - and he didn't need the responsibility of being the Boy-Who-Lived.
"Ravenclaw!" The house yelled and a blonde girl made her way to the claws' table as they all clapped eagerly, excited to welcome their new arrival as climbed off the stool, gently putting the hat back on the chair. Harry and Terry couldn't help but share a look as she skipped over, her eyes looking around but not fixating on anything, seeming to just be passing through the hall.
It also felt wrong - to make everyone think he was dead when he was really at Hogwarts sitting at the Ravenclaw table and waiting for the sorting to be over. He knew that the symbol of the Boy-Who-Lived was important in the wizarding world: that he was viewed as a saviour of sorts, the boy who put an end to the war - perhaps it was wrong to take that symbol away from everyone.
Harry smiled as he caught sight of Neville at the Gryffindor table, waving at the boy who'd seem to have gotten thinner over the summer. Ron was sitting next to him, his ginger hair looked a little darker than it should be, almost as though it had gotten soot in it or something, and the boy offered a reluctant, yet oddly tired, smile as he saw Harry, luckily Hermione was facing the other way so he didn't have to pretend to be happy to see her (he tried hard to like her but she was obnoxious, and bossy, and so superior - it was too hard). Harry scanned the table, searching for Dean, who'd he gotten closer with over the last year through the art club.
"Another Weasley?" Harry turned his head back to his friends as he heard Terry's incredulous voice. "How many is that?" He asked and Harry shrugged.
"First girl." Michael noted, and Harry turned to where the sorting hat sat on the head of a small girl, with the trademark ginger hair falling from her head, "Gryffindor" the hat called to no-one's surprise, and the red and gold table's applause was the loudest it had been all night as the Weasley twins began to holler and whistle as their little sister got sorted into their house.
"Imagine having six brothers." Lisa said, almost sounding like she pitied the girl, and the boys all turned to her.
"What's wrong with that?" Michael asked in an almost in offended tone.
"Everything." Lisa retorted quickly and Michael pouted slightly, beginning to open his mouth to retort when Dumbledore stood up.
"I don't want a speech. I want food." Anthony groaned as the old man surveyed the room, his eyes twinkling as they peered over his half-moon glasses. Harry nodded fervently in response to Anthony. The last thing he wanted was to hear Dumbledore give a speech.
Luckily the speech didn't last long - in fact all Dumbledore did was string a bunch of random words together which only caused Harry to have more questions over his sanity.
"That was weird." Harry mumbled, but the others didn't seem to care at all, instead grabbing ferociously at the food as though it would all disappear if they waited for long - which for the record it would not, there was enough food here to feed a dozen armies, not that that stopped Anthony from heaping copious amounts of mash potatoes and Yorkshire puddings on his plate.
Harry sighed slightly as the bowl of sausages was snatched from his just before his hand reached him, Terry letting out a victorious laugh as he started loading his own plate with said sausages.
Everything was back to normal it seemed - well other than that everybody thought he was dead.
"Harold!" Cameron exclaimed as he walked over to them and Harry shot him an annoyed glance.
"Harold? Seriously?" He asked as Terry laughed, high-fiving the older boy. "Don't you have, you know, friends you should be hanging out with?" Harry snarked.
"And miss the opportunity to chat with my favourite second years?" Cameron laughed. "Besides all of my mates only want to talk about our OWL grades and how hard NEWTS are going to be." Cameron told him already sounding frustrated at his friends despite it only being the second day of school.
"So, how were your OWLS?" Terry asked as Cameron sat down, reaching for an apple, and Harry couldn't help but laugh at the disgruntled expression on his face.
"Fine." Cameron replied shortly taking a bite of the apple.
"What're you doing for NEWTS?" Harry asked teasingly, mainly to see that disgruntled expression again.
Cameron groaned dramatically before sighing and answering, "DADA, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and Herbology." He replied and Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Interesting assortment." He noted and Cameron nodded.
"Keeping my options open." He replied. "Though I am already regretting choosing DADA considering our prof."
"Lockhart?" Terry asked.
"Yeah. I do not get the obsession - besides even if the guy is some sort of hero at defeating magical beasts and what not, that doesn't make him a good professor. And these are my NEWTS - they're actually important."
"I guess Dumbledore's options are quite low," Harry mused, "I mean with the curse and all - and Quirrell dying isn't exactly the best advertisement to the post."
"I still can't believe that that stuttering, nervous mess of a professor was really a conman trying to get the Philosopher's Stone. He really didn't seem like the type who wanted to live until the next year let alone forever." Cameron retorted twisting the stalk of the apple.
"We don't have DADA until last period Friday." Terry noted as he looked at the timetable, fully distracted from his plate that he'd loaded with a full English breakfast before they'd been given their timetables and Cameron had come over.
"I've got it first period today." Cameron said dramatically letting his head fall and hit the table.
"You don't know he'll be bad?" Terry offered half-heartedly, sounding as though he was trying to convince himself rather than Cameron - who momentarily paused in banging his head on the table to send Terry a sceptical glance.
"Good luck." Harry said sympathetically as the older boy returned to banging his head on the table. "At least you don't have herbology with the snakes."
"My year's Slytherin aren't too bad," Cameron returned, and Harry looked at him in shock - the only interactions he'd ever had with Slytherins had been negative experiences, "Other than Cassius, who's a prick, they're alright. Besides my brother's a Slytherin, and he might be annoying as hell, but he's not that bad a person or anything."
"You have a brother?" Terry asked, it was news to Harry too.
Cameron frowned, as if he hadn't realised that Terry and Harry didn't know about him. "Yeah Graham, he's a third year - well... fourth year now I suppose."
Harry paused as he consolidated his information before continuing, "Well... you don't have Draco Malfoy in your year." Harry replied, glancing over towards the Slytherin table to see whether he could catch sight of the blonde prince.
Cameron laughed at Harry's exasperated tone and Terry followed Harry's glance to the snakes' table, "Blaise is alright." The brunette mused.
"Who?" Harry replied, quickly turning back to his plate as he accidentally made eye contact with Malfoy.
"Blaise Zabini?" Terry offered. "Dark hair-"
"Oh yeah, that one." Harry quickly interrupted, vaguely remembering seeing him with that Nott boy in defence class last year.
"I should be off." Cameron said, looking in the direction of the doors where a Ravenclaw sixth year had just come in.
"Ooh does Cameron have a crush?" Terry teased as the sixth year stood up and started to make his way towards the girl who's name Harry didn't quiet.
Cameron sent an exasperated look over his shoulder, "This is why I prefer Harry!" He declared dramatically as he walked away.
"Who doesn't!" Terry snarked as he picked up his fork, finally discarding his timetable and starting to make his way through the mountain of food on top of his head.
"It's because of all the Wrackspurts." A voice interrupted from Harry's left, an airy voice which seemed to float through the hall belonging to a girl with dirty blonde hair and almost silvery-looking eyes. She wore a necklace made of butterbeer caps and had her wand tucked on her left ear.
"The what?" Harry asked confused but the girl no longer seemed interested in the conversation so didn't explain any further, instead she just sat with a newspaper in her hands staring out of the window dreamily - Harry had never properly understood the expression 'head in the clouds' until this moment. He shared a confused expression with Terry, raising his eyebrow at the behaviour of the quirky girl.
"So, are you going to try out for the Quidditch team?" Terry asked Harry, moving the conversation away the girl who's name Harry didn't even know.
"Maybe" Harry replied, truth be told he was still uncertain at the premise of trialling for the Ravenclaw quidditch team, whilst he really wanted to join - he loved flying, and the exhilarated feeling it gave him was second to none - he didn't think his father would approve of the dangerous aspect to it (who seriously thought it was a good idea to be hitting solid iron balls at other children), and he also didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to himself.
"You know if you join you get an extra free?" Terry told him, half-sounding as though he was trying to convince Harry to join - despite Harry potentially being Terry's competition in the try-outs.
"Wait, really?" Harry asked confused as to why joining a sports team would give somebody an extra free period. "Why?"
"Well, only for seconds years because we still have a flying lesson. I think it's because it is generally assumed that if you're good enough to be on the team you're good enough to not need flying lessons - plus if you're on the team you have your own practice sessions so it also gives you more time to stay on top of your studies. Don't worry about that part too much though, we are still Ravenclaw, the team makes sure to still value studies - unlike Gryffindor, their captain, Oliver Wood, is obsessed with quidditch, apparently he makes them train four times a week!" Terry explained, starting to ramble as he talked about the habits of the Gryffindor quidditch team.
"I guess that makes sense - not the part about you knowing so much about the Gryffindor quidditch team - but the stuff about not needing the extra flying session." Harry replied thoughtfully.
"So does that mean you're considering it?" Terry asked eagerly.
"I don't even know what position I'd try out for." Harry told him reluctantly, still doubting whether this was a good idea.
"Seeker of course." Terry replied as if it was obvious. "You're the right size and shape for it, plus I've seen you on a broom, your reflexes are good and you're quick - really quick." Terry rambled, sounding extremely enthusiastic with regards to Harry's quidditch abilities.
"Why do you want me to try out so bad?" Harry asked, genuinely confused about the antics of his friend, who'd gone back to ignoring his breakfast, prioritising the conversation. "You realise I'd be your competition?"
Terry waved off the last question. "I wouldn't get in anyway." He told Harry seriously - and Harry knew this wasn't some false modesty, but Terry being realistic. "Besides, why wouldn't I want you to join? You're good Harry, and to be frank, the Ravenclaw quidditch team is not. It'd be nice to go to matches and actually win more than just the Hufflepuff game - and to be honest, with how good that Diggory is we barely even won that."
"There's no way I'm better than Diggory." Harry rebutted, reluctant at the idea of not only being on the Ravenclaw quidditch team, but being the game-winning (or game-losing) player - everyone knew the seeker was the most important player on the team.
"You might be." Terry replied seriously causing Harry to shoot him an incredulous look as he looked down at his timetable again, as if double-checking that they really did have to start the term with Herbology and the Slytherins, silently wishing time to slow down so he didn't have to go to the class, but with a quick glance at his watch he reluctantly stood up.
"We have to go to Herbology. Anthony and Mike are probably already there." Harry explained picking up his bag and starting to move in the direction of the exit which was already being swarmed with other students starting to make their way to their first classes of the term. Terry groaned dramatically, picking up his bag and grabbing a couple of rashes of bacon before jogging to catch up with Harry.
"You might be." Terry repeated to Harry's confusion. "Or at least you could be." Terry continued as they made their way out of the mess of students in the doorway.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Harry replied as they made their way outside, starting the short walk to the greenhouses.
"Short-term memory much." Terry muttered under his breath. "Better than Diggory." He finally elaborated.
"Oh." Harry paused as they reached the greenhouse, opening the door before quickly shaking his head as they started to walk in. "No way."
"You've never tried being a seeker. You don't know how good you'll be."
"Reynolds? A seeker? You must be kidding me." A voice drawled followed by the laughter of his two goons, Crabbe and Goyle. Harry rolled his eyes at Malfoy's behaviour. "I, on the other hand," Malfoy began pompously. "Will be seeker of the Slytherin team this season." He finished smugly.
"It's the first day of term Malfoy, no team have had try-outs yet." Terry rebutted, doubtful of Malfoy's claim.
"I don't need to try out. I've already talked with Flint. I'm on the team." The boy boasted. "Then again Reynolds, Ravenclaw's pretty awful at Quidditch, so unlike with myself who had to battle to get on a Quidditch cup-winning team, it'd probably be pretty easy to make it onto the Ravenclaw team." The boy paused as though he was thinking (when really he'd probably planned his words already). "It would be fun to beat you."
"Right." Harry laughed, making his way to the spare seats in the greenhouse whilst trying to diffuse the situation by diminishing Malfoy - he knew by now that what annoyed the blonde prince the most was for no one to care about him or what he said. He could just about hear the blonde huff in annoyance as he sat down, grinning slightly at the small victory as Professor Sprout came into the classroom.