Another bloater of a chapter down and I know that a lot of you won't be happy with Harry being in Gryffindor, but I haven't changed his essential character, just given him a spine and a bit of a temper.

As for Neville being a Slytherin… Don't ask. I don't know myself.

All of the characters except for my own handful of originals, as well as locations, names, titles etc are and remain the property of JKR and I hope you like it.

Principles such as Splicing are mine as well as all unique books, histories, titles, traditions and spells. I give users permission to use them, but only if you reference me in your work.

Review please whether you like it or not. Tell me what you do and do not like and why! I do love having my ego stroked with 'Wow, great!' etc, but it's not as useful for my process as having some real examples and effects.

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Chapter 15: Cake, Singing and Prejudice.

He could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him sat Hagrid, who caught his eye and gave him the thumbs up. Harry grinned back. Harry looked down the line of teachers, recognising some from recent history books of Hogwarts: A History.

One teacher he didn't recognise, however was a nervous young man wearing a purple turban. His attention was drawn away as there were only four people left to be sorted. 'Thomas, Dean,' a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined Harry at the Gryffindor table. 'Turpin, Lisa,' became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now but the hat took less than a second to declare: 'GRYFFINDOR!'

Harry clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to him.

'Well done, Ron, excellent,' said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry as 'Zabini, Blaise,' was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away. Harry looked down at his empty gold plate. He had only just realized how hungry he was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago and his stomach growled loudly.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

'Welcome!' he said. 'Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

'Thank you!' He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered.

Harry didn't, but frowned. 'Is he mad?' he asked Percy uncertainly.

'Mad?' said Percy airily. 'He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?'

Harry's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

Harry

piled his plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious.

The ghost wearing the ruff floated along the middle of the table licking his lips and staring longingly at the food. 'That does look good,' he said sadly as Harry wielded a knife against a piece of steak.

Harry recognised the ghost from descriptions but couldn't remember his name. 'Can't you?'

'I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years,' said the ghost. 'I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. I'm the resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower.'

'I know who you are!' said Ron suddenly, flicking potato from his fork across the table. 'My brothers told me about you — you're Nearly Headless Nick!'

Percy slapped at Ron's hand. 'Shut up Ron, don't be so rude!'

Ron shrank back onto his seat, but the damage was done. 'I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy —' the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

'Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?'

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted. 'Like this,' he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck save for a thin scrap of tendon and skin and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, 'So, new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the House Championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable - he's the Slytherin ghost.'

Harry looked over at the Slytherins and saw a horrible ghost sitting in the table with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy and Longbottom, neither of which seemed happy with the seating arrangements.

Harry's attention was diverted by movement at the head table. The greasy-haired teacher had left his seat and was talking secretively into the ear of the headmaster.

Harry chewed a mouthful of roast potato as the headmaster replied, waving a hand carelessly. Whatever he had said, the greasy man didn't care for it and pointed an accusing finger at the Slytherin table then at the Gryffindors.

'No, Severus.' Harry heard, even at a distance of more than twenty feet. His voice was hard and final.

'Looks interesting, doesn't it?' Hermione said, leaning in toward Harry.

'He doesn't look happy, does he – the greasy one?' Harry replied.

Percy nodded in the direction of the man the headmaster had called Severus. 'That's Severus Snape, head of Slytherin. He's got reason to be angry.'

'How so?' Hermione asked, beating Harry to it.

'Well you know that boy who fell over on his way to the stool?'

'Neville Longbottom?' Dean Thomas asked.

'Yes, well,' Percy leaned in even closer like he was revealing a great secret, 'Longbottom's a pureblood you see and his entire family have always been Gryffindors or Ravenclaws. Always.'

'I hope it's not my fault.' Harry said, chewing his lip.

'Why would it?'

'Harry killed Neville's toad.' Hermione said, matter-of-factly.

Percy, Dean and Ron all raised their eyebrows in surprise.

'I didn't mean to do it, it was an accident!' Harry cried. 'I didn't even get chance to apologise, but he's been staring daggers at me ever since.'

'Blimey Harry, between Longbottom and Malfoy, you'll have all Slytherin house after your blood at this rate.' Ron said, laughing.

'Shut up Ron!' Hermione shouted.

'Malfoy and his cronies are bullies,' Harry said, turning to glare at Ron, 'anyone can see that. I've known and lived with bullies all my life and there's no way I'll stand for it here!'

Ron shrank even further back and edged to the end of the bench that he shared with Harry, Percy and Parvati Patil.

'Well said, Harry!' Shouted George Weasley from a couple of benches down the table where they were sat with the rest of the quidditch team. Angelina and Alicia waved at Harry while Oliver gave him a thumbs-up.

'If Neville has some kind of grudge against me because of a complete accident then there's nothing I can do about it. I'll apologise as soon as I get chance.' He looked up to see Longbottom was still glaring him, a plate of untouched food in front of him.

'He does seem to be taking it rather hard.' Said Parvati.

Harry swallowed a chipolata and stood, flicking his robes off the back of the bench and stepping free. He ignored the stares and protests of those nearest him and strode across the front of the hall. As usual, everyone that saw him fell silent and hundreds of faces followed his progress as he approached Neville who was staring wide-eyed.

'Neville, I'm Harry Potter,' He said to the chubby boy with red-ringed eyes, 'I'm sorry that I didn't apologise while we were on the train for what happened, but I didn't get change between you waking up and that wizard-'

Neville looked horror-struck as a hulking Slytherin prefect stood. 'Get lost Potter. You have no business here.'

Harry looked up at least eighteen inches into the hard faced seventh-year. 'I'm apologising for a mistake, it's none of your business.'

The prefect was about to reply when a hand touched Harry's shoulder. It was Severus Snape. Up close Harry saw that he had black eyes and couldn't make out any colour in his irises. 'Is everything alright over here?' he said in a voice as oily as his hair.

'This first year is bothering Mr Longbottom.' The prefect said in a voice full of glee.

'I am not!' Harry exclaimed, 'I was apologising to Neville for what happened on the train because I haven't had chance till now.'

Snape looked down on Harry, his expression a wild mix of emotions that Harry couldn't disassemble. 'And have you delivered your apology?'

'Yes, but-'

'Then there is no reason for you to still be standing here, is there.' It was in no way a question.

Harry turned to Neville who was staring at him murderously then turned and walked back toward the Gryffindor table. During the exchange the few remaining conversations had died out and Harry felt every eye on him as he walked. He didn't care, he wanted everyone to know that Harry Potter wouldn't shirk responsibility.

He sat down again and forked a piece of steak, chewing deliberately as conversation resumed around the hall. Hermione was staring at him with concern etched into her face.

Nearly Headless Nick reappeared in front of Harry and, holding his head in place, offered him a small bow. 'Well done, sir. A most honourable display, you should be proud. You all should be so brave,' he gestured, speaking loudly enough so that several of the nearest Gryffindors could hear him, 'to behave in such a way.'

'Thanks.' Harry muttered. He felt like people had been staring at him all day.

Conversation resumed over desert and Harry learned more about Hogwarts in an hour than he had learned from all his books. When they were wading through delicious trifle, treacle tart, chocolate gateaux and ice cream and Harry was drowning a piece of cheesecake with double cream, Seamus turned to him.

'So Harry, you're halfblood right?' He asked in his thick Irish accent.

'Yes…' Harry answered tentatively.

'Me too!' Seamus said, beaming, 'me Da's a muggle and me ma' didn't tell him she was a witch till after they were married, must've been quite a shock. What about you?'

Harry laughed, 'My dad was pureblood, head of House Potter after his parents died and my mom was muggleborn.'

'Really?' Hermione said, breaking off from Percy.

'Yeah, why?'

'Well everyone says she was a halfblood.'

'Really?'

'It is the common perception,' Percy said, gesturing with his spoon, 'it's one of the old prejudices: Lily Evans was one of the greatest students of potions and – to a lesser degree – charms that Hogwarts has seen in years. The establishment finds it difficult to accept that a muggleborn could be such a prodigy and so they assume that there must be magical blood somewhere in the family.'

'That's outrageous!' Harry and Hermione declared together.

Percy nodded. 'You see it all the time: you wait and see Hermione. If you turn out to be as great as your knowledge today suggests, then people will be rooting all through your family history trying to sniff out a drop of magical blood.'

'Why?' She asked looking hurt.

'I'm not really sure other than simple ignorance. A lot of wizards – Slytherins especially – think that their pureblood makes them better than others. Complete nonsense of course, I'm pureblood myself but there are plenty of halfbloods and muggleborns in school who are more powerful than me, less skilled perhaps, but still more powerful. The only disadvantage that muggleborns like yourselves,' he said to Dean and Hermione, 'face is that you weren't raised around magic and you have a lot of background to catch up on.'

'I guess it's the same with you, Harry,' Hermione said, 'with you being raised by your aunt and uncle.'

Harry nodded. 'That's why I bought so many books over the last month: I'm surprised my glasses don't need glasses from all the reading I've done.'

That caused some laughs and any tension that had existed was long gone by the time a few of the teachers had left looking slightly worse for wear and the remains of the deserts vanished.

The odd looking teacher with the silly turban – named Professor Quirrel according to Percy – left first, stumbling drunkenly toward the rear doors. Harry felt a sudden stabbing pain in his scar as the off teacher walked out, a pain that was gone after less than a second.

Rubbing his scar, he turned back to the table where Hermione passed him a goblet of hot cherry juice. 'Thanks.' He said smiling.

Dumbledore stood ten minutes later looking lethargic himself and told them that they were forbidden from entering the forest on the edge of the grounds and that, well, Harry was feeling quite drowsy and didn't catch the second message. He perked up when quidditch was mentioned, but lapsed off again during mention of horrible death and a corridor. Most of the first years were looking sleepy following their boat ride and all-you-can-eat extravaganza.

'And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!' cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

'Everyone pick their favorite tune,' said Dumbledore, 'and off we go!'

And the school bellowed:

'Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

Just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot.'

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

'Ah, music,' he said, wiping his eyes. 'A magic beyond all we do

here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!'

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Harry's legs were like lead again, but he forced himself to keep going if only because Hermione was flagging quickly, and he was walking arm-in-arm with her and Parvati Patil meaning if they stopped, he would. He couldn't remember ever being so full of food. He was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries.

After they'd climbed five staircases and walked what felt like miles, Parvati gave up and closed her eyes, content to being led by Harry and Hermione who was herself plodding along flat-footed. Harry was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him.

'Peeves,' Percy whispered to the first years. 'A poltergeist.' He raised his voice, 'Peeves — show yourself.'

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.

'Oooooooh!' he said, with an evil cackle. 'Ickle Firsties! What fun!'

He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.

'Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!' barked Percy.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking loudly in the corridor. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armour as he passed.

'You want to watch out for Peeves,' said Percy, as they set off again. 'The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are.'

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

'Password?' she said.

'Caput Draconis,' said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs and deep, overstuffed couches. Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory where they were led by a seventh-year girl who was almost falling over herself with tiredness.

'Come on then gents.' Percy said, leading the boys up another staircase. They dropped off the sixth years first as the stairs spiralled up, followed by the seventh after which Percy directed the first years through a door and into a large dormitory holding four four-poster beds hung with deep red velvet curtains. The dormitory had enough space for at least two more beds and their trunks had already been laid out.

Too tired to do anything else, they pulled on their pyjamas and collapsed onto their beds. Harry looked over at Ron who was stroking a large brown rat on his chest.

'Good food, wasn't it?' Asked Dean, speaking with his eyes closed.

Harry nodded and sat up, using the last reserves of his strength to pop open his trunk, retrieve a very stuffy Nidhogg and climb under his sheets.

'You have arrived.' Nidhogg whispered into his ear, but Harry was already asleep.

He slept easily with Nidhogg's tiny weight against his neck.

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