Author's Notes:

Hi everyone! SURPRISE! I just couldn't wait to post this. I ended up have a TON of free time today because we were too tired to go out and do anything after the last several days. I spent the last few days with my daughter at the pool and at Hershey Park (while wearing our masks!) and we had a blast. I also got to see a bunch of my regulars/friends at a 4th of July party this weekend. It was nice to see everyone again and be a bit social but I'm sore as hell now. I haven't moved around that much since before the Rona! Clearly I am not getting enough exercise.

Beer of the Week: This chapter I enjoyed a nice, cold, Sam Adams Boston Lager! It's not my favorite beer, but it came in the variety pack I got for Memorial day so I figured it was time to start finishing it off.

Lcwintersoldier: If I write a sequel to Igoring Destiny it will be because I felt there was a natural end to the first but Harry's story hasn't finished. i.e. he didnt defeat Voldemort yet/hasnt finished school. Midnitewanderer: I definitely have some INTERESTING stuff planned for Snape during this series. He's one of my LEAST favorite characters for so many reasons and I'm down right excited to exploit that. And, yes, I thought it was time for Ginny's crush to develop. I haven't decided when Harry will reciprocate those feelings, but it will happen, I swear! The whole gang will be reunited by the summer, I promise. ProfessorMarauder: Firstly, love your name! Secondly, I hadn't thought of that to be honest! Oh the delicious ideas you've given me on that. You'll have to wait for the next chapter or two though! As to your comment regarding the Horcrux; it's not that one puts the object to be a horcrux into the infant's stomach and then heals them and waits, they literally gut the baby, put the object inside the stomach and let them bleed out. The naturally part is so that the maker can't speed up the process. I felt it made it much more dispicable and didn't allow for any mercy on the maker's part. It's sort of a suffering for them, too. Or, it's supposed to be anyway. Smallwjl: WELCOME BACK! I'd wondered where you wandered off to! I'm glad you've enjoyed what you missed, though, and hope you enjoy this surprise update! And, I hope to be doing family law. The firm I was going to work at ended up being super crazy and restricting and my CDO office said to bounce. So, I'm gainfully unemployed again.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter and don't be too upset with the outcome! *Spoilers*! I'm almost at 100 reviews. Think we can make it this chapter? Also, if you haven't already please make sure to go to my page and read "Little League Quidditch"! It's a one shot I wrote based on Harry's little league days from this series. Enjoy!

Chapter Thirty-Three: The Sorting

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" Harry heard a familiar voice calling out as he stepped off the train and onto the platform. He turned and caught sight of an overly large, hairy man, "Alright there, Harry?" Hagrid called out in a booming voice as he beamed at him over the sea of heads.

"C'mon, follow me—any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

"Hagrid! How are you?" Harry asked as he approached Hagrid; Draco, Ron, and Hermione trailing behind him, the latter two in awe of Hagrid's largeness.

"Good, good. Head on over there now, you four. I'll be there in a minute."

The four made their way, slipping and stumbling, down a steep narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Harry thought there must be thick trees there.

"That must be forbidden forest," Draco whispered, "We're not supposed to go near there."

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "Jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud, "Oooooh!" as students received their first glimpse of the enormous castle that was Hogwarts.

As Harry and his friends rounded the narrow path, it opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry, Ron, Draco, and Hermione all scrambled into a boat together, not wanting to be separated on this journey.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself, "Right then—Forward!"

Harry and company sat in their boat admiring the view as the floated closer and closer to Hogwarts. They all ducked as they reached a cliff, floating under a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliffside. Once they reached the underground harbor, they quickly disembarked their boat and stud together as they walked through a passageway and up a set of stone steps before crowding in front of a large, oak door.

Hagrid quickly knocked on that oak door and, moments later, a tall, stern looking woman in emerald-green robes swung the door open and stepped onto the landing.

"Nana!" Harry shouted without thinking and began moving toward her before he caught sight of her face. Realizing what he'd done, Harry took an embarrassing step back into the crowd but he couldn't help but think he saw a small smile grace the professor's lips.

Hagrid beamed at Harry before saying, "The firs' years, Professor McGonagall."

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

McGonagall flung the large oak doors open wide, revealing the entrance hall of Hogwarts. It was so big that Harry thought you might have been able to fit all of Potter Manner into the room. it had beautiful marble slabs for the floor; large, flaming torches on the walls to light the room; and a magnificent marble staircase that led to the upper floors. In the center of the room was the Hogwarts crest which appeared to be made out of colored tiles or gemstones with golden inlay. Harry looked at the house crests, wondering silently which house each of his friends would end up being in. He carefully snuck a glance at Draco, who was also looking at the crest, his grey eyes downcast.

They group followed McGonagall across the hall and into a side chamber where they stood shoulder to shoulder, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said, "The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses."

They listened as McGonagall explained to them all why the sorting is important and what each of the four houses represented. Draco was only half listening as he was absorbed in his own thoughts about the sorting ceremony they were about to undergo. Draco only snapped back to reality as McGonagall was taking her leave and exited the room. he swallowed and turned to his friends who were already anxiously speculating which houses they would be in.

"I don't have to wonder," Ron said with a frown, "My whole family's in Gryffindor. Doubt I'll be any different."

"Well, I for one think Gryffindor would be a fine house to be in. Of course I think I'll be in Ravenclaw. Only those who are intelligent enough end up in there," Hermione prattled on.

"I wouldn't say that," Draco interrupted, "Not all Ravenclaws are smart, you know. They just value the ability to learn and be creative. No offense, Hermione, you're smart but you're not very creative. I bet you're in Gryffindor. You're way too courageous not to be. I'll probably end up in Slytherin though. Just like everyone else in my family," Draco looked at the ground.

"So what?" Harry asked, "As if we care what house you end up in. Why would that change anything and what's so bad with Slytherin?"

"Well, not a single witch or wizard who went bad wasn't in Slytherin," Ron piped up.

Harry scowled, "The man who sold my parents out to Voldemort was a Gryffindor. I think that shreds that idea, doesn't it?"

Ron looked away from Harry, his face turning scarlet, "Sorry, I forgot."

Hermione rolled her eyes and opened her mouth, probably to say something about Ron's tact—or lack there of—when there was a rush of noise and cold air above them as about twenty ghosts filled the hall. They seemed to be arguing amongst each other. A fat little monk was saying, "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance—"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost—I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years occupying the side hall they had just flown into. When nobody answered him, the Fat Friar stated, "New students! About to be sorted, I suppose? Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."

"Move along now, the sorting ceremony's about to start," McGonagall said as she stepped back into the side chamber. She watched as the ghosts exited the room one by one, leaving only her and the first years, "Please form a line and follow me."

Feeling as though his legs had turned to lead, Draco got into line between Harry and Hermione as they walked out of the chamber and back across the hall again before going through another set of oak double doors which led to the Great Hall.

All of the first years were in awe upon entering the dining hall as the saw thousands of candles floating in the air lighting up the room. there were four long tables spanning the impressive length of the room filled with golden plates, goblets, and bowls for the feast. Draco paled as he walked in the line as hundreds of eyes were boring down on him. He gulped and, instead of looking around the room, he looked up at the ceiling and was shocked to see the glittering night sky above them instead of a roof.

Seeing him looking up, Hermione whispered to him, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History."

"Right," Draco replied in a quiet voice. Maybe he should have skimmed through that book. He bet money there would be a copy to peruse in the library. He would have to go check it out in the morning if he had time.

Draco watched, as if in slow motion, McGonagall place a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she placed a pointed wizard's hat that sported several patches and frays. Then the hat twitched, a rp near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and it began to sing:

Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they 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,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!

When the hat had finished its song the whole hall burst into applause. It then bowed towards each table before becoming ridged and still again.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward toward the chair holding a long roll of parchment, "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted. Abbott, Hannah!"

As Hannah Abbott made her way up to the hat, stumbling, Draco's knees went weak. What if he wasn't in Slytherin? What would his father do? What if he was in Slytherin? What did that say about him? And what would happen to his friendships if he were in the opposing house to what would likely be theirs?

He watched as Hannah Abbott sat on the stool, the hat slipping down over her eyes. There was a momentary pause before the hat shouted, "Hufflepuff!"

A table to the right of the line cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down with them. He gulped as "Bones, Susan!" was called next.

"Hufflepuff!" the hat said again and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"Ravenclaw!"

He listened as more students were sorted. Brocklehurst, Mandy want to the Ravenclaw table while Brown, Lavender became the first Gryffindor. Bulstrode, Millicent became the first Slytherin. Draco looked toward the table cheering for Millicent and frowned. He thought they looked like an unpleasant lot but he recognized a few of the older students sitting there from dinner parties with his parents.

Draco listened as a few more students were sorted. Finch-Fletchley, Justin was sent to Hufflepuff while Finnigan, Seamus was next to go to Gryffindor. Then, Hermione was called.

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. There was only a split seconds pause before the hat shouted, "Gryffindor!" and she made her way to the table, beaming, while Harry, Ron, and Draco clapped for her, excited that she was sorted.

Next, Neville was sorted into Gryffindor while MacDougal, Morag was sent to Ravenclaw.

As Morag made his way to his table, Draco gulped, knowing he would be next.

"Malfoy, Draco!"

He let out a deep breath and wiped his hands on his pants, as he clumsily made his way up to the stool. He could feel sweat pouring down his face as he sat on the stool and the hat slipped over his eyes.

"Hmm. What do we have here? A Malfoy? You certainly have what it takes to be in Slytherin. Lots of ambition, a drive to prove yourself, to do whatever it takes to help your friends."

Draco thought of his friends, how they would be in Gryffindor without him; what it would be like to be in Slytherin, the opposite house from them—their rival. He frowned, sadness welling inside of him.

"I see, I see," the hat spoke into his mind, "There is conflict here. You would do well in Slytherin, it would help you on your way to greatness. But there's intelligence here; a thirst for knowledge and creativity. Ravenclaw would help you cultivate and quench that thirst. But which suits you better? Difficult. You are very difficult young Malfoy."

The memory of his father discussing which house he would be in before he left for Hogwarts swam to the front of his mind, "It is my expectation that with this new start you cut ties with any and all poor relationships and should I receive word that such relationships have continued, well, there will be a problem."

Draco gulped, "Yes, Father, I understand."

Lucius sat back in his chair, a sly smile on his face, "I am pleased, Draco. And when you're sorted into Slytherin your mother and I shall make sure you're rewarded appropriately."

Draco frowned, "Father?"

"Yes, Draco?"

"What—what if I'm not sorted into Slytherin? I mean, I don't have control over that decision," Draco asked carefully.

Lucius frowned, his eyes flashing black, "You will be sorted into Slytherin, Draco. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear."

"Ah, yes. Will you be able to withstand the familial pressure if you aren't in Slytherin? But what is best for you—where will you thrive? Better be…"

"Ravenclaw!" the hat shouted to the hall.

Draco's eyes widened in shock, his entire body went ridged as he sat on the spindle legged chair and the hat was pulled from his head. He could hear the murmurs coming from the Slytherin table as several of the students sat with their heads together, looking back at him on the stool.

He quickly looked at Harry who was staring at him wide eyed and open mouthed, a large grin forming on his face as he realized what was happening.

"Mr. Malfoy, please take your seat with the rest of your house, if you would," McGonagall said as she indicated the Ravenclaw table which was applauding him and beckoning him to take his seat amongst them.

"But, Professor, there's been a mistake, i—"

"There are no mistakes, Mr. Malfoy. Please, go take your seat."

Draco nodded solemnly and stood up on shaky legs; he wondered if they would support his legs long enough to make it to his table. As if in a daze that he can't quite remember, Draco managed to make his way to the table and found himself sitting next to the boy named Terry Boot who slapped a hand on his shoulder and congratulated him on being sorted into Ravenclaw.

Draco mumbled a quick thanks before looking back up at the ceremony, his mind otherwise occupied. He barely listened as Nott and Parkinson were sorted into Slytherin, Patil to Gryffindor, Patil to Ravenclaw—she took a seat next to him and smiled—before his ears perked up at Harry's name.

"Potter, Harry."

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

Harry glanced up at the head table at his Uncle who was sitting on the end to his left. Remus was beaming at Harry, giving him a small thumbs up and mouthing, "It'll be ok!" as he sat down.

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

"Hmm," said a soft voice in his ear, "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes—and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting…so where shall I put you?"

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, With my friends.

"Hmm. Why not Slytherin though?" said the small voice, "You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin would help you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that."

With my friends—Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.

"No? Well, if you're sure—better be Gryffindor!"

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table, but not before chancing a look back at Remus who had stood up to clap for Harry, his face alight with excitement. He made a mental note to go check in with Remus tomorrow.

Harry hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. Percy had actually stood up and shook his hand vigorously, while Fred and George yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Harry sat down opposite to the ghost he had seen earlier. The ghost patted his arm, giving Harry the sudden, horrible feeling he'd just plunged into a bucket of ice-cold water.

Harry watched as the remaining students were sorted into their houses. He clapped loudly when Ron was sorted into Gryffindor with him and Hermione.

"Alright, mate! The three of us made it into Gryffindor! And Draco, a Ravenclaw—never thought I'd see the day," Ron said as he let out a whistle, "Blimey. How do you think he's feeling right now? His dad might kill him."

Harry paled. He'd been so concerned with where he was going to end up, he had completely forgotten about Draco's issues with his dad. What was going to happen now that he'd been sorted into Ravenclaw? Harry looked down at the empty plate in front of him as the last few students were finally sorted. It wasn't long before McGonagall took the stool away and Dumbledore got to his feet, beaming, and welcomed them.

"Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here hey are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

Thank you! Tuck in."

Confused, Harry looked back at the plates in front of him, wondering how the food would get out to them. His mouth fell open when he realized that they were now filled with every kind of food he could think of.

Everyone ate, drank, and talked during dinner. Ron had somehow managed to eat what seemed like an entire chicken and several potatoes by the time pudding was presented to them. It never ceased to amaze Harry just how much food Ron was capable of eating. While he wasn't talking much during dinner, he had been listening to Hermione cheerfully tell anyone who would listen all the spells she had been learning before they had arrived. She was currently talking to Percy who seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. They had always gotten along if Harry's memory served him.

As Harry had begun to feel warm and sleepy, he looked back up at the head table, but this time he wanted to see the other professors. He noticed that Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet while Nana was deeply engrossed in a conversation with Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.

It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrel's turban straight into Harry's eyes—a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on his forehead as their eyes met.

"Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head.

"What is it?" asked Percy.

Ron and Hermione looked at him, concern on their faces.

"N—nothing."

The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling he had gotten from the teacher's look—like he didn't like Harry at all. He brushed it off, though. He wouldn't believe a teacher would hate him before he even spoke to them.

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?"

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches potions—"

"Snape you said?" Harry asked, his eyes wide as he tried to remember why that name sounded so familiar.

"Yes. Professor Severus Snape. He's the head of Slytherin house."

"Snape…Snape…" Harry mumbled to himself. He knew he had heard that name before. But why? And when?

Harry listened with the rest of the students as Dumbledore gave his usual end of feast speech outlining the major rules of Hogwarts before sending the students off to their dormitories.

As they stood up, Ron, Harry, and Hermione attempted to make their way toward Draco to make sure he was ok but they were blocked by Percy who began herding them toward the rest of the Gryffindor first years out the door and up the staircase. As they walked, the three of them agreed they would track Draco down at breakfast the next morning since tonight was going to be impossible.

As they walked, Harry was wondering how much longer they were going to be when the group came to a sudden halt. He noticed a bundle of walking sticks in front of them and watched as Percy stepped forward, mumbling about something called a Peeves.

"Peeves, show yourself!" Percy demanded.

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks. He swooped at them and they all ducked.

"Go away Peeves! Or the Baron will hear about this!"

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished.

"You'll want to avoid Peeves if you can," Percy said as they began to walk again.

It wasn't long before they reached the Gryffindor portrait hole, which was guarded by a woman called the fat lady. Once Percy said the password, they all clambered into the common room and were directed to their dormitories. The boys and girls separated and made their way up to their beds.

Upon entering their room, the boys realized that their stuff had already been placed at the foot of a bed, their robes laid out for the next day with new badges affixed to them indicating they were in Gryffindor.

Harry and Ron bid each other good night and got into bed, closing their hangings. Harry waited for what seemed like an hour before the other boys fell asleep in their beds and he was the last one awake before he pulled out the mirror in his pocket.

"Dad!" he whispered at the mirror, unsure of whether it would work or if his dad was even still awake, "Dad!"

Suddenly, James' face appeared in the mirror, sleepy eyed and groggy as he yawned and asked, "Harry, it's late. I didn't expect you to call till morning. Did something happen?"

"You could say that," Harry said slowly before entering into the stories of how Draco was sorted into Ravenclaw and about how his scar had hurt when he looked at the Professor named Snape, "And I can't remember why his name sounds familiar but something told me you would know. Why would my scar hurt like that? It's never happened before."

James frowned and then sighed as his eyes flashed in anger, "I'm going to just take a second before answering those questions and discuss Draco because I need a minute to calm down. First off, I'm glad that Draco was strong enough to ignore his father's influence and allow the hat to sort him into the house that best suited him. He's going to have a rough road ahead of him, Harry, and he's going to need you three there for him now more than ever. He might even get disowned from his family; I don't know. I'm not sure how seriously Lucius Malfoy takes the Slytherin legacy and whether Narcissa will stand up for Draco or not. Make sure he knows he always has a room with us if he needs it, ok? Actually, I'll write him a letter. It might be better if he knows I'm here for him.

"As for Professor Snape," James sneered, "That would be your mother's old friend from school I told you about. The one who I didn't get along with. Snivellus."

Then it clicked in Harry's mind why he knew that name and he remembered the conversation he had had with his father before leaving for school, "Wait, you didn't know he was a professor here?"

James shook his head, "No. Moony probably felt it best not to tell me. I don't know why. But, just be careful around him. He used to be a death eater. Dumbledore vouched for him after Voldemort's fall and no one knows why—but he has Dumbledore's trust. That doesn't mean he's going to treat you fairly but I hope he hasn't held onto his childhood grudge for this long. I guess we'll find out. Let me know if he gives you any trouble, ok?"

"Ok. But what about my scar?"

"That I don't know. I'm going to look into it an discuss it with Dumbledore. Call me immediately if it happens again, ok? We're going to take this issue seriously and find the reason it's happening. It can't be a good sign.

"You haven't told me which house you were sorted into, though. Care to share?"

"Oh, right," Harry had forgotten all about his sorting, "Gryffindor with Ron and Hermione."

"Hermione? Like, Hermione Granger? I think I missed something here!" James exclaimed in confusion and surprise.

"Yeah! Apparently she's a muggle born and we never knew! Isn't that awesome? But how did none of us notice her using magic when we were kids?"

"Now that you mention it, I'm not sure. She may have been subtle about it. If she's anything like Lily she may have even had a level of control over her magic and was able to control when she used it and displayed it. Hermione was never temperamental as a child so she might not have been prone to the emotional and magical outbursts you were."

"Yeah, but I feel like we should have noticed it."

James shrugged, "Sometimes you just don't. Anyway, get some sleep. You'll have lessons in the morning. Call if your scar hurts again, ok?"

"I will. Thanks dad."

"Night, Harry."

"Night."

Harry put the mirror on his bed side table before rolling over for the night. It didn't take long before he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Draco lay awake in his dormitory bed, his mind racing as he lay under the dark blue ceiling. How was his father going to react to his sorting? Would he be pulled from school? Or maybe banished from his home? Draco tossed and turned before finally getting up and out of bed.

He wandered into the bathroom where he splashed some water on his face and looked at himself in the mirror before walking back out again, restless.

Not wanting to wake his dormmates up because he was pacing around, he decided to go down to the common room for a while. Draco quickly grabbed a book from his trunk at random and made his way downstairs.

The fire in the fireplace had burnt down to embers as the students had gone to bed. He looked around and took up a spot on the couch by the fire where he put a pillow behind his head and lay down, holding his book above him. But he couldn't concentrate. He realized he had been reading the same paragraph several times but hadn't taken any of it in. He sighed as he rolled on his side and looked into the dying fire, his thoughts on the sorting ceremony. Why hadn't he just let the hat put him in Slytherin? It would have been much easier even if it meant being ostracized from his friends.

Draco spent the next hour switching between laying on the couch and pacing the room while he replayed the conversation with his father and his sorting in his mind over and over, wondering what was going to happen next. It wasn't until nearly three in the morning before he finally passed out on the couch in the common room, his arm flung off of the cushions and onto the floor.

End Notes

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