Chapter 6: House Decision
The first years entered the Great Hall for the first time. Most were too nervous to speak, though some managed to eke out some excitement at the long tables, massive windows, and magical ceiling which reflected the night's sky. Harry looked up at the ceiling in wonder. It was beautiful, powerful magic in a way most didn't think of power. Imagining the founders creating such a ceiling, with all they had at their disposal. It was absurd, but also everything Harry ever wanted out of magic.
A talking hat was placed on a stool and began to sing about the various houses and their qualities. Nothing terribly interesting. Harry wondered how the hat sorted. Did it read people when they wore it? Was there a conversation? How sentient was the hat? He would observe.
After the hat's speech, the moment had arrived. Children were called in alphabetical order, sat upon the stool with the hat on their head, and it would call out the house they had been sorted into. Some were instant, others took a little longer. This showed it to be less automatic, there appeared to be some discussion with the hat by some. Whether it took these discussions into consideration, Harry did not know. Were the stated traits what the person strived for? What they valued? Or what they embodied? Dumbledore was a Gryffindor, yet no intellectual slouch. Crabbe had been sorted into Slytherin; the kid was a pureblooded goon, hardly a shrewd ambitious type. Tracey had made it into Slytherin as well, but she was a half-blood.
"Longbottom, Neville!" called McGonagall.
Neville stumbled his way to the stool, his legs frozen and stiff as if they refused to bend for him.
With a small amount of time on the hat, it called out, "Gryffindor!"
Neville beamed as Gryffindor house cheered and the rest clapped politely. He plopped down at Gryffindor table as if he had just undergone an ordeal. Neville's eyes met Harry's eyes in the crowd and he signaled a thumb's up.
A few more sorts and they were on the Ps. Unfortunately, there were a lot of PAs. Parkinson, Patil, Patil, yikes. Then it was his turn.
"Potter, Harry!" McGonagall called out with the same stern no-nonsense attitude. She stared down the students who were overreacting to the name.
Harry took a breath and got his emotions under control. He stepped out from the crowd and sat on the stool where McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat upon his head.
The hat spoke in his mind. "Oh, what's this? So much in your head. All safe with me, not to worry. Ha! Curiosity and cleverness in spades, true. Shrewdness and ambition aplenty. And such boldness! But more calculated than anything. None would deny your work ethic, your loyalty is hard-fought. Difficult, difficult. Oh? And you wished to avoid Slytherin, in such a Slytherin way too. Irony of ironies."
"Is it my choice then?" Harry asked the hat.
"I do consider choice, but only if it fits. I would not accept a request from you to be put into Hufflepuff, for instance. Too often have there been attempts to create spies within houses, I don't abide by it. Are you certain you don't wish to be in Slytherin? You could be great you know. Slytherin would pave the path to greatness like no other. You are a strong fit for Ravenclaw and Slytherin, but Slytherin especially."
"I don't want to be great; I want to be free. I want to be clever and have fun and learn. Slytherin sounds like a mire of politics I have zero interest in."
"Hmm, yes. It is true. No desire to involve yourself with the world overmuch. You are ambitious, but in Ravenclaw pursuits, and yet… not very Ravenclaw in the way you would go about it. You check the boxes, but you will not fit in with the Ravenclaw crowd, I promise you. They will resent you for scholarly reasons just as much as the Slytherins would for political ones. You could win the Slytherins over, but jealousy will always hound you in Ravenclaw."
"I would rather the conflict be to my preferences. Bringing the Slytherins over politically would be a distraction. As for scholarly jealousy, let them come. I don't care for grades; they cannot sabotage my learning. Let them try."
"Then better be, Ravenclaw!"
Harry opened his eyes and walked to the Ravenclaw table as the hat was taken off of his head. He was sure the discussion had taken by far the longest of any student. Harry glanced over to Dumbledore whose eyes twinkled with happiness. The headmaster was glad enough he didn't go to Slytherin then. The Gryffindors were feeling much the same, though they were more shocked obviously. Ravenclaw was equally shocked by the cheers. Some cheered very loudly. With others at the Ravenclaw table, it didn't register he was coming to their table. Polite clapping and odd looks all around.
When the sorting was finished, Dumbledore gave a speech about the parts of the castle and ground which were off-limits and various other announcements. Harry tuned them out mostly. He did notice a teacher at the head table glaring at him not paying attention. He'd cross the bridge when he came to it.
Managing to hear Dumbledore finished his speech, Harry was glad he caught the tail end, or he might have jumped ten feet when mounds of food suddenly appeared on the table in front of him. He grabbed a little bit of everything, sampling the fare to get a sense of what was good. Around him, there was a good mix of first-year boys and girls who hadn't said anything until now. Among them was the girl who had gone into his compartment, Emma Vane. Stressful.
A few of the boys were already getting along from the train ride apparently, as well as a few girls. One of the girls stepped up to the plate and broke the silence among the first years, Lisa Turpin, she suggested they introduce themselves. They went around the table, snickering when Harry introduced himself.
"Bit unnecessary Harry," said a blonde kid named Anthony Goldstein as the whole group laughed.
Harry became slightly irritated but clamped down on the feeling. They just heard each other's names during the sorting, it was all unnecessary. Being famous didn't mean any more than that, all they knew was his name and that his parents were dead. Harry reminded himself to be more charitable to his new classmates. Instead of reacting, he just grunted in acknowledgment.
"Now Harry," one of the Indian twins Padma Patil started, "you didn't go to Gryffindor. We're all a bit surprised, I think. Your parents were both Gryffindors, right? I'm one to talk, my twin is in Gryffindor, but we also have mixed parentage."
"I wasn't raised by my parents," Harry answered simply as he bit into a chicken leg. His simple statement was met with complete silence. "Sorry, I didn't mean to put you off there. I respect the memory of my parents, but I never met them. I wasn't raised to be a Gryffindor, and I think little of blood being determinative of anything." He tried his best to salvage the situation.
"It's okay. I knew about your parents and I'm the one who brought them into the conversation, I'm sorry Harry." Padma teared up, whether for feeling bad for bringing it up, or the tragedy of the situation, Harry did not know.
Harry ignored the awkwardness surrounding him, and the conversation returned to normal when everyone realized he wasn't bothered by what was said. Harry busied himself gorging on a nice slice of ham and a treacle tart. Quickly, the boys and girls began to split into groups of conversation and began whispering. Harry was the exception, as he was sat next to both groups and kept to himself. The older years didn't bother them.
"Harry, is it true you were raised by goblins?" asked Terry Boot, a light-brown haired boy who was a bit squat asked as he looked nervously to Goldstein.
"No."
Both groups heard his statement and immediately their chatter intensified. Harry groaned internally, they weren't actually talking about him, were they? No, it might have just come up. They would have more interesting things to talk about, a world of magic and all that.
"Harry, Emma said you were with Longbottom, you aren't friends with Longbottom, are you?" asked Mandy Brocklehurst.
"Yes, I am friends with Neville."
More chatter, Harry picked up another tart. These were damn good. After a final swipe of another tart, the food disappeared from in front of him.
"First-year Ravenclaws! First years, follow me to Ravenclaw Tower!" a male prefect called out.
They all got up and left the Great Hall, Harry memorized the route they were taking as they snaked through the various corridors and stairs. Until finally, they went up a spiral staircase to a door with a bronze eagle knocker. The eagle sprung to life.
"This is the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room. To enter you must answer a riddle. Should you fail to give a satisfactory answer, you will have to wait for another person to come and answer. Who wants to give it a try?" said the prefect.
"I'll do it!" said Michael Corner, the most jock looking of the Ravenclaw bunch pushed his way to the front.
"The lighter I am, the harder I am to hold."
"A feather!" answered Corner smugly. He soon turned red when the door didn't open.
"Anyone know?" asked Robert the prefect.
"I'll try," said a timid dark-skinned boy. Harry remembered his name to be Kevin Entwhistle. "It's your breath, right?"
The Eagle nodded and the door swung open. Some of the kids groaned at the answer. Riddles were like that, always obvious after the fact. Harry was one of the last inside the Ravenclaw common room. It was a round room, with high ceilings and tall arched windows. Everything was draped in Ravenclaw blue, with bronze trim. Metal eagle statuettes littered the occasional shelf or desk, and comfy looking chairs, couched and loungers formed little semi-circles around the room. The carpet in most of the room looked like the night sky, around the stairs it turned to carved stone. Harry only thought it was absolute luxury.
"Now for the Ravenclaw pitch," said Robert, "Welcome! This house has high standards for you, you have been sorted well. Filius Flitwick, the Charms professor, is our head of house. In my opinion, he is the finest teacher and greatest mentor you could wish for. Tonight, you should head right to your dorms and get some sleep, tomorrow at breakfast we will hand out your schedules. Your luggage will be waiting at the foot of your bed. Any troubles, and you should reach out to one of the prefects. If that doesn't work, Professor Flitwick has office hours after dinner. Just remember, Hogwarts teachers have heavy loads and little time. Second-year NEWT students help with pre-owl grading, so don't come crying to the teacher over every little point. There are almost no circumstances where a grade can be changed."
A few of the students were wide-eyed in terror at the last piece of news. Before they could react or complain another prefect came over.
"I'm Penelope Clearwater, I'm a prefect with Robert here. Let's go girls," she commanded.
The girls followed Penelope up a winding stair to the right.
"Just remember, for future reference, the girls can go into the boy's dorms, the boys cannot go in the girls. The stairs are enchanted and will prevent your access. There's always one boy getting ejected, and it's embarrassing for all." Robert grimaced. "ANYwho, I'll show you your room and the facilities."
# # #
Harry lay awake, he could hear the other boys through the curtains of his four-poster bed, but couldn't make out what they were saying. They had stayed up to socialize, where Harry was not interested. If he was honest with himself, he didn't like them. Terry and Kevin were possibly very nice, but Anthony and Michael were unbearable. The group dynamic was completely dominated by those two. Harry turned the covers over his head. He was coming off as unsociable, he knew it. He would rather they thought him unsociable than use him as a prop though.
Tomorrow he would be in mission mode once again, this time in a magical castle. It was unhealthy for a boy as young as himself to think in this way, but without it, Harry felt he would go mad. At the end of seven long years, Harry wanted to be able to go anywhere, and do as he pleased.
# # #
Waking up in the morning again at the crack of dawn, Harry made his way into the showers. Upon his return, none of the other boys had yet awoken and breakfast would not be for another hour. If he woke them, it would definitely make them angry, so Harry shrugged and got dressed. His ties had been changed to Ravenclaw colors in the night, was it magic, or something else? He made his way through the empty common room, and retook the route to the Great Hall.
The Great Hall was mostly empty, a few older students gave Harry a strange look as he passed by them.
"Can I help you?" a slightly pompous looking redheaded prefect approached him. Gryffindor, Robert told them the names of the other prefects. With the red hair, it must be…
"Percy is it?" The boy lit up like a Christmas tree when Harry knew his name. "I am trying to get my bearings, you wouldn't happen to know of a Hogwarts map, would you?"
"No, prefects will give directions to new students after your schedule is handed out," Percy replied. Harry got the sense that the boy was very happy with his prefect status, he described the scenario as if giving directions to new students was a noble pursuit, and looked offended that Harry would want a map.
Harry smirked. "Ah, of course! Could you give me directions to the library, the owlery, the dungeons, the astronomy tower, and anything else you deem important?"
"Well I should think the Ravenclaw-"
Harry pretended to look downcast. "How rude of me. Prefects are only supposed to deal with their own houses, aren't they? I thought since you offered to help- but I'm imposing."
"Now see here! A prefect's duty is to the whole of the school! I will be happy to help you find your way!" said Percy, incensed at the challenge to prefecthood. "I'll even tell you where your charms and transfiguration classes will be, the first-year classroom is always the same for those."
# # #
After squeezing out every instruction he could from the poor guy, Harry decided to explore the routes he described. The first of which would be the library. The library was never locked, but was officially only open after breakfast, except during exam time. Harry used Neville's present to imprint a very large book of potion recipes. Over the summer, he had been restricted in his ability to do magic of any sort. Much to his annoyance, Harry found potion making was included, there was a reason squibs didn't become potion masters. The potion drew upon wizard's magic during brewing and often required wand work.
On top of it, potion recipes were often crazily expensive or restricted. At Hogwarts, he could brew, if he could find a way to get ingredients on the sly.
An hour of exploration and internally mapping the castle later, and Harry was ready to get to breakfast. When he arrived, there were tons more people. It was past starting time for breakfast and all sorts of food was strewn about the tables. Scanning the room, Harry didn't see Tracey or Neville, and so he sat at the Ravenclaw table beside some older boys. His roommates were likely still asleep, Harry had no idea when they went to bed. He scooped some eggs onto his plate and grabbed some bacon.
Harry felt a pair of small hands on his shoulders. "Harry! I wanted to talk to you, how's life in Ravenclaw?"
Harry turned to see Tracey grinning at him, he smiled back. Then he saw the unfriendly looks given to him by the older students. They couldn't possibly be mad about her Slytherin status, could they? Ha! There were benefits to being antisocial, he didn't have to give a crap about what they thought. No social life, no social consequences.
"Getting better! Sit! Sit! How about you Trace?" He grinned like a Cheshire cat.
Tracey raised one eyebrow at his immediate change in demeanor and didn't respond to his nickname.
"Slytherin is good. Daphne and I are still friends. Everyone else got a bit weird about my going off and making friends with Harry Potter," she said morosely, "I didn't say anything about you," she added with a worried frown.
"Say whatever you want. My reputation can't get much weirder, might as well be the truth," Harry said as he stabbed some eggs. "I didn't even mention you, and I'm already not doing well. They dislike me, they love Harry Potter."
Tracey barked with laughter. "I told the Slytherins they'd love you even if they hate Harry Potter."
There was a larger noisy crowd entering the Great Hall all at once, wearing Gryffindor neckties. Neville was at the front surrounding by other boys, having a great time. Harry almost died of laughter at the irony of all this. Neville was flourishing socially, good for him. Harry tapped Tracey on the shoulder and pointed out Neville.
"Really? Of all the social butterflies—you were holding him back Potter," Tracey snorted.
Neville scanned the room until he locked eyes with Harry, then he ran over and sat down on Harry's other side.
"Harry, it's bloody awful!" Neville exclaimed.
"What's awful? It looked like you were friends with every one of the Gryffindor boys," said Harry.
"It's like I'm a celebrity! I loved it for the first few hours, now I hate it! They made me stay up late talking a lot about you, and then my parents got brought into it. With our similar birthdays and parents, and then our friendship. They're calling me 'the second' to the boy who lived!" Neville unloaded in his typically panicked style.
"You would be his second in a duel. I'm 'the girl' in our little triad, you're the loyal second; we just need a rival…" Tracey said with a serious look of concern.
"Draco?" Neville reminded Tracey with a squint as if she were daft for not realizing.
"A rival would be able to keep up, next!" Harry waved his hand while shoveling more eggs into his mouth. "Is it okay for you guys to be here by the way?" Harry put his hand to his mouth full of eggs.
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Tracey reprimanded, "I should leave now actually. I left early so I could talk with you."
"Well, I could always visit the other tables," said Harry.
"Tracey wouldn't be welcome in Gryffindor, we were warned about Slytherins. It's already breaking 'code' to sit at a different table at all."
"Neither of you would be welcome at the Slytherin table." Tracey sighed.
Harry realized; he had severely underestimated the social stigmas. What were once rivalries, were now deep biases and tribalism. He expected cultural shock no matter how much he read; this was just another moment to be expected. The civil war had trickled down to children.
"Damn politics. I don't care for it. I'll do what I want! I refuse to sit without either of you, I'll switch off if I have to. Is that too far? I know we just met yesterday Tracey… and Neville we just met over the summer a bit…"
"I won't stop you, the Gryffindors might give you trouble about where you stand," said Neville.
"Y-you don't care if they try and bully you?" Tracey hesitated.
"FUCK EM!"
"MR. POTTER!" It was Flitwick with schedules in his hands behind them. The man was very very short, and so had been able to sneak up on them without catching their eye. "While I appreciate the anti-bullying sentiment, I will ask you to watch your language! I won't take points as I've intruded upon a private conversation, but I expect you to comport yourself admirably when you represent my house!"
Harry scratched the back of his head and bit his lips trying not to grin. "Yes Professor, sorry to meet you like this… first impressions and all." Neville and Tracey were almost boiling over with laughter they were keeping contained.
"Well, here's your schedule in any case. Curse in goblin if you must," Flitwick winked at him after speaking in gobbledygook.
Harry nodded without batting an eye. "Yessir."
Someone spoke as Flitwick walked away, "Is professor Flitwick okay? Sounded like he was ill."
# # #
After comparing their schedules, there were only a few overlaps. They all shared long free periods on Tuesday and Friday after lunch, all the first-year schedules had this period. They each shared two classes with the other by themselves, Neville and Tracey also shared flying lessons, which would fill the shared free period for a bit. Astronomy was once a week at midnight with all of the first years.
Tracey and Neville went back to their tables, as it felt right to make friends with their houses on their first day of school. Harry set about to reading his book, something shared by many Ravenclaws at the table. His first class would be… potions with Professor Snape! He had been looking forward to potions, unfortunately, it was with the Hufflepuffs.
At this moment, Harry's roommates appeared for breakfast. The clock in the great hall read 8:37, they would have to rush breakfast. Class started at 9:00, breakfast only went until 9:00, generally for those who had a free period after. Harry decided to leave then, in order to be a few minutes early. They sat down at the closest end of the table. Harry approached them on his way out of the Great Hall.
"Guys! We've got class at 9:00 in the dungeons. I'm leaving now, you should stuff what you can and come with me."
"Stuff it, Potter, we've got ten minutes until we have to go. Let us enjoy our breakfasts," Anthony remarked irritably. There were dark circles under his eyes.
"Sorry, don't mind Goldstein, we're hungry. Why didn't you wake us up?" Terry whined.
"I woke at sunset, and left at six. You would've been furious with me," Harry explained.
"Fair… Just go. If we're late, we're late. It's the first day, how bad could it be?" said Terry.