Hugs and cookies and many, many thanks to all of you who read or reviewed. Chocolate and balloons to those who did both. :D

For whatever reason, last time I submitted this chapter it simply did not show up. So I deleted it and added again, and I hope that this time it works.


Disclaimer: Tu sei J. K. Rowling? No, no sono J. K. Rowling.
The Founding Of Pigwarts I – Recipe For Chaos

Chapter 4: The Four Founders

"What about Houses?" Harry inquired in a while. He seemed to have made an agreement with Ron about being really drunk and talking nonsense in turns. Although Ron kept quiet, looking at the sky above and giving out small huffs once in a while.

Which was much, much, much better than Harry's monologue about Cats versus Dogs.

"Perhaps we shouldn't have them," Hermione mused. "Then we don't have inter-house rivalry and separation, and all that bad stuff."

"Perhaps," Harry nodded. "But there was some reason for all the houses, about completing and complimenting people with the same traits of character. And if we want to make it like Hogwarts, in its memory, then we should have houses all the same."

"We can't have the same names," she argued now. "Those were the four founders of that school, but not of the new one."

"No. But there's four of us, just like there was four of them. We can each pick a former House and name it after ourselves, but perhaps keep the traits and colours the same."

"Slytherin!" Draco claimed quickly.

"Gryffindor!" Harry cried out, whether deliberately or only to oppose the last one.

"Ravenclaw, I guess," Hermione muttered. "That leaves Hufflepuff to Ron. I hope he doesn't mind. Much."

All glances turned towards Ron who was still staring at the stars and humming something under his breath.

"Ron," Harry poked him in the ribs with his elbow.

"What?" the red-hair averted his gaze from above and looked at his friend.

"Hufflepuff?" Hermione offered.

"Mind if I have one," he accepted. "I think my bottle is empty already."

"No, the houses," she explained patiently.

"Gingerbread houses? Well, I am slightly hungry now that you mention it, but…"

"The Four Houses of Hogwarts," she pressed through clenched teeth, wondering how he managed to be this annoying after the amount of alcohol he had consumed. For her knowledge, they all should have passed out some fair time ago. Or perhaps someone had done something to their drinks, made them less inebriating, or something. Good idea as it was, they hadn't probably considered the idea that sometimes it was better to drink oneself unconscious. Or let someone else do it, at least.

"What about them?" Ron inquired, his gaze slowly turning upwards again. What the hell did he find so interesting about the night's sky? He had never been a fan of Astronomy.

"Congratulations," Malfoy smirked. "You got Hufflepuff."

"Oh, lucky me," he answered with a lopsided smile. "Thanks, Ferret."

When it seemed clear that he wasn't going to add anything, Harry continued their discussion.

"Ok, that's checked. Next?"

"How do we sort people?" Hermione wondered.

"I thought about that," Harry admitted. "I thought we could make it easy and sort people by their hair colour, or perhaps the colour of their eyes."

"Yes," she said slowly, considering that thought. "This seems easy. But remember what Dumbledore used to say?"

"Would you care for a lemon drop?" Harry guessed.

"No, thanks. He said that there is the easy way and the right way. Your idea is indeed easy, but not right. We are supposed to sort people by their character, not appearance. Besides, red as a colour of hair and green for eyes is rather rare, and that way certain houses would be overflowing while other have only a couple of people."

"So all the stupid blonde bimbos do not end up in Malfoy's House? What a shame."

"Hey!" Malfoy protested. "That's discrimination. All blondes are not stupid. Look at me."

They did.

"So a person who is sitting in the ruins of their former school and getting drunk with three of his least favourite people is not stupid at all?"

"At least I'm not a bimbo!"

They looked at him again, and shrugged.

"I'm not a bimbo!" Draco cried again, using that same high-pitched girlish voice.

They ignored him.

"I suppose we could use the same old Sorting Hat then," Harry said.

"The Sorting Hat was lost with the School, Harry," Hermione reminded him sadly.

"If so then what is that Ron is sitting on?"

They looked.

It was the Sorting Hat.

"Problem solved," Harry smiled. "I love it when a plan comes together."

All of a sudden Ron leapt to his feet, giving Hermione the perfect opportunity to snatch the Sorting Hat away from his former sitting place, and, in the absence of a better plan, she simply threw it to Draco who happened to be sitting by her side.

"I don't want to be a giant wasp!" Ron screamed at the top of his lungs.

"You are not a giant wasp," Hermione reassured him, rolling her eyes at the same time, a bit curious though about where he had got that idea.

"I will be," Ron said. "Hufflepuffs are all giant wasps with their yellow and black. I don't want all the Weasleys to be giant wasps."

"No, you want them to be weasels."

For once Ron didn't rise for the bait. Perhaps he didn't feel like fighting right now. Perhaps he was too worried about the issue at hand. Perhaps the Firewhisky had given him some taste of maturity. Or perhaps he simply didn't hear it.

"Oh, come one guys. Yellow and black don't go together!"

"He's right, though," Hermione agreed in a second. "What will it be then?"

"Yellow and white?" Harry suggested.

"No, that makes them too bright. Too angelic. And too painful to look at."

"Hufflepuffs are always painful to look at," Malfoy announced almost sacredly.

"So are ferrets," Hermione mumbled under her breath.

"Of course if they all look like giant wasps," Ron nodded enthusiastically.

"Yellow and purple?"

"Too… purple."

"What's wrong with purple?"

"It's… purple."

"It's too red, and Gryffindor has red."

"Purple is not red! Purple is purple!"

"How about dark mauve and yellow?"

"What's mauve?"

"Pink."

"Mauve isn't pink. Mauve is mauve. And dark mauve is… dark mauve. Brownish, purplish…"

"Orange!"

"No yellow and orange!"

"We'll decide it later!"

"Fine."

"Fine!"

"FINE!"

"What are we talking about, anyway?"

"Umm… Ron, what were we talking about?"

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are.
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!"

Draco, who had now come to the conclusion that the only thing worse than Potter monologuing was Weasley singing, pressed his hands to his ears, and when that didn't work, grabbed the Sorting Hat Hermione had thrown to him earlier and pulled it on.

'Well, well, well, what do we have here' a voice spoke to his ear in a wholly ridiculing and obnoxious tone. He was quite familiar with this kind of tone, but usually it came from his mouth and was directed at someone else. Being the recipient of it this time, he felt exactly as awful as he hoped to make those with whom he was using that tone.

Says the one who has spent the last few hours under Weasley's ass, Draco thought back.

'Says the one who put something that has spent the last few hours under Weasley's ass onto his head quite voluntarily,' the voice sniggered.

Yes, well, you wouldn't say this if you had heard Weasley singing, he answered, trying not to let his tone shake as the Hat's last sentence made its way into his mind slowly but steadily.

The voice merely snickered, and Draco gave it a mental scowl.

'I remember you, Draco Put-Me-Into-Slytherin-Or-I'll-Cut-You-Into-Little-Pieces-And-Feed-You-To-My-House-Elves Malfoy.'

Father told me that threats not only always get one further than bribery, but also cost less.

'I suppose he would say that. I should have put you into Hufflepuff just for the spite.'

Hey! That's not very nice of you!

'And why should I be nice?'

It's the Gryffindor way, after all, is it not?

'And why should I act like a Gryffindor?'

Because you are the hat of Godric Gryffindor.

'Indeed I am,' the Hat said and paused, as if thinking whether it should say more or not. Draco who saw it for what it was – a dramatic pause – kept quiet and waited for more, since he was indeed quite intrigued, and anything was better than Weasley singing.

'But do you know where Godric got me?' it asked mysteriously at last.

From a village shop?

'Not quite. He got it as a present from his best friend.'

So what?

'His best friend at that time was Salazar Slytherin.'

Well I'll be damned.

'I suppose you are. Now, I think you should take me off. Weasley has stopped singing.'

Oh, good.

Draco pulled the Hat off just in time to hear Ron singing the forth and fortunately the last verse of his little song.

"In the dark blue sky you keep,
While you thro' my window peep,
And you never shut your eye,
Till the sun is in the sky,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!"

Definitely Slytherin tendencies, he thought sourly, giving the Sorting Hat an accusatory glare and almost hearing it laugh quietly at him.

"Hmm… I didn't know it had more than one verse," Harry commented, and from the tone of his voice and the look on his face, Draco realized he had not been the only one who thought Weasley should be deported to Hong Kong if he ever tried to sing again.

"I did," Hermione said way too cheerfully.

"Know-It-All."

"Ferret."

"Scarface."

"Weasel."

"Harry, did you just call Ron 'Weasel'?"

"Umm… did you just call me 'Scarface'?"

"Did you just call me 'Ferret'?" Draco decided to join in the fun.

"YES!"

"Oh…"


Reviews will make me happy!