HPDBZ and the Sorcerers' Stone

by KlosetAuthor

What if Harry hadn't been given to the Dursleys, but had been taken to live with the Worlds Strongest Martial Artist. I saw a few crossovers with this idea, but most were poorly written or abandoned. I thought there was potential, so here's my attempt.

3. Platform 9 34

Harry Potter Z: And the Sorcerer's Stone

See Chapter 1 and remember, if you're charging people to read this, the crystal ball knows who you are, and soon some really nasty, goblin-like lawyers will too.

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Chapter 3: The Journey from Platform Nine and Three-quarters

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The day after Harry's shopping trip Professor Dumbledore sat in his office pondering the news his gamekeeper had brought him the night before. Hagrid had returned with the item intact and had nothing but praise for the boy he'd taken to get his school things. But now Dumbledore wished he'd have gone himself. It had been the perfect cover for Hagrid to pick up the item secretly. Everyone looked down on him oddly enough for his giant size, and as long as he was doing something else, no one would suspect him of being Dumbledore's agent.

But it wasn't the item Hagrid had retrieved that Dumbledore was interested in; it was the remarkable young boy. He knew he couldn't have gone. If he'd have gone the people that were guarding the item would have known he'd taken it and secrecy was vital to the item's protection. And even if Hagrid was right and having the headmaster of the school take him to collect his school supplies wouldn't give the boy a big head, the boy would have detractors that would complain that he was getting special treatment. It was sure to happen eventually, there was no need to give them ammunition this early. Mr. Potter's life would go much smoother if his grand reentrance into the wizarding world after all of these years was free of bad publicity.

He had originally planned to make his own observations about Harry Potter when he arrived at the school. There would be plenty of opportunities to see the measure of the man the boy was becoming, but now it seemed so much more important. Wizard children whether raised by wizard or muggle parents usually displayed magical talent before coming to school, but remarkably almost none ever learned to control their magic on their own without a wand. He had his theories about this. In the wizarding world it seemed that the idea that a wand was essential to magic was so ubiquitous that wizard children almost never tried to intentionally use their magic without. They were more likely to steal one of their parent's wands and experiment with it. In the muggle world he suspected that most children ignored or doubted their magical abilities, because they didn't fit with how they perceived their world. Like their muggle parents they explain away what they see or ignore it, because they don't believe it could be possible.

But Dumbledore himself had met one wizard that had learned to have some limited control over his magic before he learned about the wizarding world—just one. Oh, he suspected a couple of others may have and he never found out, but he knew of only one. One that had gone on to call himself Lord Voldemort. One that had mounted a new kind of reign of terror that Britain and much of Europe hadn't recovered from.

But according to Hagrid, young Harry, who had bemoaned his lack of magical knowledge, had without the aid of a wand summoned a heavy trunk straight to him and hung it over his shoulder as if it were a sack of pillows. The young Voldemort had told him when they first met that he could make filings move. Young Harry's trunk had definitely been more than a filing. And to aparate himself to somewhere in Asia, even over the course of a day, let alone in one jump, was more than many fully trained adult wizards could hope to do.

There had been a prophecy made before the boy was born. It has spoken of them being equals. But it never said anything about whether the boy would be light or dark; only that the two would be opposed. And if Harry was already this powerful, it suddenly felt more urgent to know about his disposition. Would he have to try to turn this boy away from the dark path as he had failed to do for the other?

Hagrid was convinced that Harry was the kindest boy one could meet, but the boy that had become Voldemort had charmed everyone at Hogwarts as well. Dumbledore had asked about the environment the boy had grown up in. All Hagrid could say was that he had a stern mother. But something about his description of the woman bothered Dumbledore. If a common woman had offered to fist-fight Hagrid of all people, he just didn't know what to think about her.

It seemed to the good Professor that every time he learned patience he had to learn some more. He would just have to wait until the young Harry Potter arrived before he would have the answers to his questions.

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Sirius Black spent days hunting down his reclusive friend. Remus Lupin could be hard to find. Sirius found the prematurely graying man in a run down apartment building in Scotland. The down on his luck wizard had been going wherever he could find work, often in the muggle world due to his condition. He wouldn't accept handouts, even from his wealthy friends.

But Sirius' excitement had known no bounds. Even after the several day long hunt to find his last remaining friend Sirius couldn't contain his glee as he regaled his friend with descriptions of their deceased friend's son, Harry Potter.

Remus didn't know when he'd last seen Sirius this happy. When James and Lilly had died with Harry missing he'd take it hard. Sirius was taking care of himself now, but the last Remus had seen the old dog, he was a shadow of his former self. Remus had told his friend to get serious with someone and settle down and start a family. It was something that due to his condition he could never do safely, but he hoped it would help his friend.

Now after seeing how happy Sirius was after one day with young Harry, Remus was sure he'd been right about his friend. Though he definitely had to admit that the casual display of magic Sirius told him about was impressive. James and Lilly's boy had always been special to all of them. They'd thought any bit of magic the boy had managed was exceptional no matter how small. But if what Sirius said was true they young man was exceptional, he wished he could have seen it.

But Sirius seemed to be more excited about Harry and the little red-headed girl. He seemed so excited about Harry's interest that Remus wasn't convinced that it wasn't more an issue of what Sirius wanted to see than what actually happened. Either way he was happy for both Harry and Sirius.

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September 1st found Harry sitting on his trunk in the middle of Kings Cross Station in London. The sun was up now. It hadn't been when Harry had arrived. For that matter it hadn't even been September when he'd arrived thanks to the over seven hour time difference between where he lived and his mother insisting that he leave early in the morning for a trip that he could make in less than an hour flying.

But boredom wasn't Harry's problem right now. If it was he could probably just read one of the several books in his trunk. He'd read them all before, his mother had insisted that he read all of his textbooks to familiarize himself with the material before showing up at school. She'd also insisted that he go back to the bookstore to buy some more books on the wizarding world. He'd picked up a book on manners, recent history as well as a few other topics that Harry had thought would be interesting and even a couple of issues of a newspaper called the Daily Prophet. He'd left the newspapers and several of the books at home as he didn't think that they'd be useful. He could even reread the copy of Quidditch Through the Ages that Sirius had sent him. Harry thought it would be fun to watch a game if it required as much aerial acrobatics as he suspected. It would probably be more fun to play. But boredom wasn't Harry's problem

Harry couldn't find his platform. The ticket he'd been given said platform nine and three-quarters. He was sitting on his trunk in between platforms nine and ten waiting for the ticket inspector or guard to change. He'd asked several of them about a train to Hogwarts or a train that left at eleven o'clock. He'd even risked asking about platform nine and three-quarters directly. No one seemed to know about Hogwarts or where it was, there was no train leaving at eleven o'clock and the person he'd dared to ask about platform nine and three-quarters had gotten angry with him. Harry tried to placate the man by showing him the ticket, but he'd just gotten angrier and tried to take the fake ticket from Harry. Harry didn't let him.

Harry didn't think it helped that the way he was dressed showed that he was a foreigner. He'd wanted to wear some more western clothes, but his mother had insisted that he wear a green Chinese silk shirt that she said brought out his eyes. This one had gold embroidered fastenings. He was getting strange looks from several passers-by and most of the train station employees looked at him strangely now. He didn't think he could ask any of them for help anymore.

Harry hoped he could run into a friendly witch or wizard to help him. Sirius said he was going to be waiting for him. Where was he? Harry had even seen Hermione and her parents. He had wanted to ask if they knew how to get on the platform, but they'd run into the same boy Harry had kept from hitting her before. Harry ended up distracting the boy, which was pretty easy, as the boy had become completely terrified of Harry once he turned around. Unfortunately by the time Harry had turned back to where Hermione and her family had been they had disappeared.

Time was running out. It was ten minutes to eleven and he still hadn't found the platform. Then he felt it, that strange energy he was starting to think might be magic itself. He started looking for anyone that might be a wizard or witch while trying to locate the source of this power. That was when he saw them, six redheads.

"…packed with Muggles, of course…" said the short matronly woman, as she guided on little girl and four boys with trunks through the crowd. This looked like the family he saw in the robe shop and even if they weren't the same, they have to be magical if they're talking about muggles.

"Now what's the platform number?" the boys' mother asked. "Platform nine and three-quarters," the read headed girl, who was holding her mother's hand said excitedly. "Can't I go too?" she pleaded.

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first."

The oldest looking boy, who Harry was sure he hadn't seen in the shop marched away from his family, pushing his card in front of him in a thoroughly dignified manner. Harry was certain that he was about to see how to get onto the platform, but a large group of people exited a train got in between Harry and the red headed boy. When he could finally see where the boy had been, he was gone.

"Fred, you next," Harry heard the woman say

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," the boy said. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear."

"Only joking, I am Fred," the cheeky boy rushed off, his twin calling for him to hurry as if they were trying to escape from their mother's wrath for their little joke. Whatever the reason they were too fast for Harry to see through the crowd.

Harry was out of options, so he stood up and grabbed his trunk by one of the handles and swung it around, over his shoulder until it was hanging over his back as he stepped up to the redheaded family. He wasn't sure why he'd been so clandestine about it when he could have just asked for help in the first place. He didn't want to give Sirius anything more to encourage him to tease him about the little redheaded girl, but this was too important for that to stop him. It had to be the strange power that he could just barely sense from them. It was eerily different from anything he'd sensed before he'd stepped on Diagon Alley. He'd felt it strongly at Ollivander's and when he'd been looking for it he found traces of it around the alley when he went back with Gohan for his other books. But the faint energy still made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and gave him this ache between his shoulder blades like there was a sword tip just a hairs breadth away from stabbing him in his back.

"Excuse me," Harry interrupted the woman before she could direct her next son through to the platform.

"Hello, dear," she said. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too." She pointed to her remaining son, who was taller than Harry and gangly, like he hadn't completely grown into his body.

"Yes," Harry bowed. "The thing is no one told me how to get on the platform."

The red-heads didn't seem to know how to handle Harry's strange behavior. Harry knew to expect that, but his mother had thoroughly trained his manners into him. The girl curtsied and Harry smiled at her as her mother continued speaking.

"Not to worry, all you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron."

Harry was a little hesitant to follow the red-haired woman's instructions. He knew that with his incredible strength he could run right through a brick barrier. Taking a deep calming breath Harry stepped toward the barrier slowly. He hoped that being slow wouldn't interfere with whatever the magic or trick was for getting on the platform. The worst that could happen was that he got covered in rubble right?

When he got to the barrier he gently placed his foot against the barrier between the platforms expecting to meet resistance, but his toe just disappeared into the wall. Breathing deeply he just walked the rest of the way through.

It was pitch black inside the barrier. He stopped and waved his hand in front of his face, but he couldn't even see it. Not wanting to be stuck he took two more steps before he was dazzled by the light.

Directly ahead of him he could see a shiny red steam engine. The platform was filled with children and parents bustling on and off the train, talking in groups, hugging and waving their goodbyes. Their dress varied from sharp business suits, to T-shirts and jeans, to robes of every color. Harry didn't get a chance to take much of it in, because someone was calling his name.

Sirius black nearly tackled him again. He wrapped his arms around Harry and tried to lift him up, but the heavy trunk Harry had over his shoulder kept the older man from being very successful. "Let's get your stuff on the train." Sirius began to guide Harry toward the back of the train. "Harry, where have you been? I've been looking for you for over an hour?"

"Did you think to look outside?" Harry asked.

"No," Sirius looked sheepish. "What were you doing out there?"

"I've been trying to find out how to get in here since last night."

"Why did you get here so early?" Sirius looked perplexed, but Harry was pretty sure he was trying to direct the conversation away from his and Hagrid's omission.

"Mum wanted to be sure I came early and with the time difference I got here just before midnight."

"Your mum?" It took Sirius a moment to remember that Harry had been adopted after his parents' death.

"It's actually a little strange for me too. Until now I never knew anything about my birth parents." Harry was a little hesitant.

"You know no one is trying to take your parents away from you," Sirius said. "We just want to be a part of you life too." Sirius didn't know if he'd been able to express what he meant until Harry muttered a quiet thank you. But somber wasn't Sirius' strength. "So how did you find out how to get through?" Sirius asked loudly.

"I had to ask that family we saw in Madam Malkin's how to get through."

Harry knew it was coming before Sirius even opened his mouth. "I told you Harry, I could have gotten you introduced to that red-haired girl if wanted me to."

Before Harry could make another rebuttal about his alleged illicit interest in the little red-haired girl a voice interrupted their conversation. "Hey, what exactly are you intentions toward our baby sister?"

Harry saw the girl's two twin brothers looking at him in a way they seemed to think would be casually menacing. He didn't bother to answer and just climbed into the last car and started toward the last compartment. Fortunately or unfortunately Sirius had an answer for him. "Oh, it's just that no Potter has fallen in love with a girl that didn't have red hair in a dozen or so generations."

Sirius had intended to let the two boys stew over that as he followed Harry on the train to help him with his trunk. However the twins didn't appear to be content to be left behind. They all caught up with Harry in time to see him jump up slightly and slide his trunk into one of the overhead compartments. It was a deceptively easy looking feat.

"Are you really him?" one of the twins asked with more than a little hint of awe in his voice.

"Who?" Harry asked even though he was pretty sure they knew who he was.

"Harry Potter," the other twin supplied.

"Oh, no…" Harry smirked. "I'm just Harry Potter."

Sirius laughed as the twin boys looked Harry up and down suspiciously. "Then you better be good," one of them started. "To our sister," the other finished.

Harry just sighed and shook his head. "Look," he said exasperatedly. "I'm eleven years old, it's a little early for me to be worrying too much about what girl I'm going to fall in love with."

The twins looked like they knew something he didn't and were about to rebut what Harry had said, but where interrupted by a woman's voice yelling "Fred? George? Are you there?"

One of them stepped past Harry and opened the window. "Coming mother!" he called. Then the twins walked of shaking their heads, talking to each other about something too quietly for Harry to hear. But Harry did manage to hear them saying something about not being able to get away so easily as they passed under the compartment window.

Sirius obviously wanted to say something, but seemed to be having trouble figuring out what. "I wish I could go with you kid…maybe I'll apply next time there's a teaching position open."

Harry was about to tell Sirius that maybe he find a girl himself and get a life of his own when he heard a familiar shrill voice. "…If I get one more owl telling me you've – you've blown up a toilet or…"

Harry and Sirius looked out the window to see one of the twins answer their mother. "Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."

"Great idea though, thanks, Mom," the other finished.

Harry and Sirius both pulled their heads in and threw themselves on the nearest seat before they laughed. After a moment of laughter Sirius got up and swatted Harry on the arm. "I'm afraid I've got to let you get going." But instead of telling him not to get into trouble he said: "Don't get caught."

Harry sat back down and tried to fight his apprehension about everything that was happening. He looked out the window when he heard one of the twins say his name. He looked out the window in just in time to see the little redhead girl bouncing excitedly. "Oh, Mom, can I go on the train and see him, Mom, oh please..."

Harry quickly looked for Sirius to see if he'd seen it. If he had, Harry had little doubt that he'd be receiving formal introductions very shortly. And Sirius lived up to expectations. "Looks like she wants to meet you, maybe I should ask her if she wants to be introduced."

"Sirius do you have any idea what my mum would do to me if she thought I was spending my time chasing girls instead of doing my homework?"

Sirius started to say something back, but stopped when the whistle blew. Harry looked up toward the front of the train where the sound comes from and saw each of the redheaded boys sticking their heads out of the train and their mother kissing them good-bye.

"I bet we could get the little redhead to kiss you goodbye," Sirius whispered in Harry's ear just as the train started moving. Harry turned back to see Sirius leering at him. Behind him he heard the red headed family shouting their good-natured goodbyes.

"Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls."

"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat."

"George!"

"Only joking, Mom."

Trying not to laugh Harry yelled goodbye to Sirius and looked forward before he pulled his head back into his compartment. He saw the boys' sister laughing through her tears as she chased the train. The scene was poignant and reminded Harry about how much he was going to miss his brother. If the girl had five older brothers it would probably be a bit of a shock to not have any of them around, and from the looks of it she was the youngest, so it would be just her. Harry could sympathize with her. Even when Mr. Piccolo had left Harry and Gohan alone in the monster infested wilderness of Yonzabit Heights they'd still had each other. They'd always had each other. Harry remembered that for the eight months he'd trained with Mr. Piccolo in the hyperbolic time chamber he'd missed his brother terribly. But then he'd been with Mr. Piccolo, now he wouldn't even have him.

"Is anyone sitting there?" Harry looked up to see the youngest redheaded boy standing in the doorway of the compartment. His mother had said his name was Ron. "Everywhere else was full."

Harry nodded his head. He could really use a good distraction from his worries. He was trying to figure out how to start a conversation when the redheaded twins stuck their heads back in the compartment. "Hey, Ron. Listen, we're going down the middle of the train—Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," mumbled Ron. Harry wondered if he was upset about being left alone on the train trip.

"Harry," the other twin said, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then."

"Are you really him?" Ron asked as soon as he was sure his brothers were gone.

"Who?" Harry asked even though he was pretty sure Ron knew who he was.

"Harry Potter,"

"Yes…" Harry answered.

Ron immediately looked up to Harry's bare forehead to look at the scar. Harry wasn't aware of this, but since his first trip to Diagon Alley the news had been full of all the details they could find about him and the fact that he was going to Hogwarts. And where there wasn't information the news had been full of supposition. His scar was no exception. "Was that really where you-know-who…?"

"Don't know." Harry ran his fingers through his hair making it stand up more. It was a habit he'd picked up when he was young to make his hair look like the spiky hair that all sayains, including his father and brother had. "I've had it since I can remember, so it could be. That sounds cooler than if I got it falling down or something anyway."

Ron laughed. "Are you really as strong as Fred and George said?"

"I'm not a sissy if that's what you're asking," Harry replied trying to sound casual. He did not want people asking about how strong he was until he was sure that there wouldn't be problems with people accepting him. So he decided to change the subject to something that was a bit less risky and more interesting to him. "So, are all your family wizards?"

"Er—Yes, I think so," Ron said. "I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"What's it like, how much magic do you already know?" Harry was actually very interesting in what wizard life was like, and what it would be like to live in a house where everyone could do magic.

"Not much," Ron obviously didn't share Harry's enthusiasm. He just couldn't think of his home life as exciting. "Mum taught my sister some cleaning spells, but I've only learned a couple of spells that work."

Harry nodded his head at that. He was honestly surprised though he didn't show it. He wondered if that was normal. He would have expected that Wizards would teach their kids all kinds of magic. "I feel sorry for your sister. I already miss my brother and I haven't been gone very long. Must be worse in a big family, your sister being used to having four brothers."

"Six counting me." For some reason, he was looking gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left—Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of the Quidditch team. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Harry could see that Ron had really wanted to get that off his chest. "Well, my brother and I are only six months apart, so we don't have hand me downs, though we do share a lot. But at least you can do what your brothers have done if you want to. I'll never be able to do what my brother has done."

Ron seemed confused. "You have a brother, no one ever talks about you having a brother?"

"Oh, well I was adopted after my birth parents died." Harry didn't know why he felt a little uneasy mentioning it

"Oh, Are they Wizards?"

"No, they're Muggles." Harry started to brace himself for if Ron reacted like the other boy.

"What are they like?" Ron seemed to be genuinely curious.

"Well they're not normal for muggles, they're martial artists, so we spent a lot of time learning how to fight."

"So that's what makes you so strong, yeah?" Ron asked excitedly. "And you could probably even beat-up a guy that was loads stronger than you?"

"Well not too much stronger than me," Harry said uneasily. "That's why I won't ever be as strong as my brother."

"But you're a wizard, you can do loads that he won't be able to do."

"But will it make a difference?" Harry mumbled dejectedly.

"Sure it will," Ron said confidently. "This is magic we're talking about. You just give it a couple of years and you're brother won't know what hit him."

Harry hoped so. He knew this was his only chance to catch up to his brother. But Ron had never seen Gohan fight. He was so powerful Harry didn't know if even magic would enable him to bridge the gap. But Harry couldn't really let Ron know that. "And we'll just have to find something that you're brothers have never done." Harry said, trying to push his uncertainty to the back of his mind.

"But what's left for me to do?"

"This is magic we're talking about," Harry responded. "There's got to be tons of things you can do with magic that you're brothers never tried. We just have to find the one for you."

They spent the next hour talking about all the things you could do with magic and what Ron's brothers had and hadn't done. Harry wasn't much help here, because he wasn't familiar with magic. He thought it was cool that Ron's brother Charley took care of dragons. And he thought that raiding ancient tombs and sneaking past all kinds of magical traps would be much more exciting than the way muggles did archeology.

Harry of course couldn't escape his upbringing and had suggested that he and Ron could train to be great fighters. From there Ron had told him about how wizards dueled and how they sometimes had championships. Harry didn't say anything, but he didn't think that wizard dueling was for him if you couldn't punch the guy you were fighting. But Ron really liked the idea. So after they ran out of ideas Harry drifted off into sleep while Ron sat with his eyes glazed over with dreams of being an international dueling champion.

Harry woke to the sound of something rattling outside the door. The door to the compartment slid open and a smiling woman with big dimples asked if they wanted anything of the cart. Harry had already eaten the sandwiches his mother had packed for breakfast while he was trying to get on the platform in London and now he was ravenous. He'd had western sweets several times before, but they had never been anything like what he saw on the lady's cart. There were Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and a number of other strange things. Hungry and not wanting to miss out on anything he bought plenty of everything. After paying the lady one galleon and 12 knuts, it took Harry two trips to dump all of his bounty on an empty seat.

Ron looked impressed. "Hungry?" he asked. His eyes were wide enough that you couldn't be sure that he wasn't concerned that Harry might take a bite out of him next.

"Starving," Harry replied.

Ron pulled out his lunch and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches inside. After he examined the insides of one of them he muttered a complaint about roast beef.

"I'll trade you a couple of pumpkin pasty's for a couple of your sandwiches," Harry offered.

"You don't want one of these, they're dry." Ron grumbled.

"All right four pastys for two of your sandwiches," Harry responded. "I ate all of mine for breakfast while I was looking for the platform."

Ron finally caved in at six pasties for half of his sandwiches, but in the end they both ended up eating whatever they wanted from Harry's sweets. Though unlike Ron, Harry ate his share of the sandwiches.

Harry opened a box of what was labeled a chocolate frog. The idea of a chocolate flavored frog didn't bother him, but when the frog jumped out of the box and managed to escape out the window he had to ask Ron if they were alive, as the idea of eating a live frog did bother him.

"Nah, they're just chocolate, but they're enchanted to jump once or twice once they're out of the box." Ron answered. "But never mind that, who's on the card? I'm missing Aggripa."

Relieved and excited to see even that simple a feat of magic, Harry didn't hear Ron's question. He opened another package and watched the frog jump until it stopped moving. This time he made sure to keep it away from the window. He was biting into the now stationary frog when Ron got finally got his attention again to ask what cards he'd gotten.

Ron explained to Harry that the chocolate frogs each came with cards with famous witches and wizards on them. Ron collected them and had every one that was currently available except for Aggripa and Ptolemy, who Harry hadn't known was a wizard.

Harry looked into the empty boxes and had to pry the cards off the bottom with his fingernail. He had Morgan le Fay, who the card said was a bird animegus, whatever that was. The other was Albus Dumbledore. "So that's what he looks like," Harry showed the card to Ron.

"Yah, his is pretty common, I got about ten of him." Ron said distractedly. "Do you mind if I have one, I might get lucky and get Aggripa."

Harry just nodded as he read the back of Dumbledore's card:

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.

And he seemed to be very kind according to what Hagrid had said. Harry flipped the card back over to find that Dumbledore had disappeared out of the picture. Harry tried looking at it from different angles to see if it was one of those optical illusions or holograms or something. "He's gone," Harry said when he finally gave up.

"Well you can't expect him to hang around all day," Ron replied around a mouthful of chocolate.

Confused Harry looked down at the card just in time to see Dumbledore slide back into his picture. The cheeky old man winked at him. Harry decided that some things in the magical world would take some getting used to.

Ron helped Harry finish off the frogs with gusto, but Harry was more interested in the cards. He read each of them at least twice while he chewed. He was reading about Circe when he picked up a bag of colorful beans.

"You want to be careful with those! When they say every flavor, they mean every flavor," Ron warned. Harry looked at the bag he'd just opened. It was labeled: Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. "You know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a booger flavored one once."

The two of them spent the next several minutes carefully picking through the beans. Harry thought it was hilarious to watch the face Ron made when he got a sprout-flavored bean. Harry seemed to be a bit more tolerant than Ron. He even ate the strange gray bean that after an experimental nibble he found tasted like pepper.

But their fun was interrupted by a knock on the door. A moment later a round-faced boy stepped in asking if they'd seen a toad. He looked to be near tears. Harry and Ron both said they hadn't seen him. Harry tied to encourage him, telling the boy that the toad was sure to turn up. It didn't seem to help. Harry figured everyone else had probably said the same thing.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," Ron said as soon as the door closed. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk." Ron's very fat pet rat was lying inert on his lap. Ron poked it in the stomach gently, but Scabbers didn't move. "He could die and you couldn't tell the difference," Ron muttered. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..." Ron all but dove into his trunk, but somehow he didn't disturb Scabbers, who didn't even twitch while he was jostled on Ron's lap.

Ron's whole body stiffened for a moment when he found what he wanted. He straightened up holding a very beat-up looking wand. It was chipped and cracked and there was something white visible at the end. "Unicorn hair's nearly poking out," Ron said disgustedly. "Anyway…"

Ron lifted his wand into the air dramatically, but before he could wave it or say an incantation the compartment door slid open. "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one." Hermione, already dressed in her school robes, stepped in. The boy from before, Neville followed her looking lost.

"We already told him that we haven't seen it." Ron sounded exasperated, but Hermione didn't seem to notice. She was staring transfixed at Ron's wand, almost as if she'd never seen one before. She'd told Harry that her parents weren't magical, so maybe she'd never seen one in use before.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then." Hermione sat right down as if there was nothing out of the ordinary with her request and after adjusting her robes looked at Ron expectantly.

Ron looked taken aback. "Oh, er…all right." Ron cleared his throat dramatically before he began his incantation waving his wand side to side over the sleeping rat. "Sun…"

"Ron!" Harry interrupted. "Are you sure you want to be trying that spell with Scabbers on your lap, you don't want it to turn more than just him yellow."

Ron looked shocked at the implications at first, but the embarrassment about talking about his lap in front of a girl seemed to overcome his fear of accidentally harming himself if the red color of his ears were anything to go by. "Uh, I don't think anything will happen, I told you it didn't work before, I think the spell is a dud."

"Then you really don't want something to go wrong do you?" Harry replied. He had to force himself not to laugh as Ron's face seemed to be trying to turn white and red at the same time. Hermione covered her mouth while Neville turned even more ashen in sympathy.

"Right then," Ron cleared his throat and gently sat the fat rat onto the seat beside him. His wand waving seemed to twitch as he moved it in a circle around the sleeping rat. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow." He ended the spell with a violent thrust toward the rat. Nothing happened.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" Hermione asked, but continued before anyone could answer. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard – I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough – How about you Harry?" Hermione turned away from Ron and looked at Harry expectantly.

Harry wasn't sure just what she was asking and the look Ron was giving him didn't help. "What?"

"Magic," Hermione seemed to think that was enough to go on. "Have you tried any yet?"

"Oh," Harry said. "My mom wouldn't let me. She took away my wand and didn't give it back to me until I left for the train. She didn't want me to accidentally blow up the house or something."

"Bummer, mate," Ron commiserated.

"You're mum?" Hermione seemed confused. "But everything I read said that your parents died on Halloween when…"

Harry was about to mention being adopted when Hermione trailed off, but changed his mind. "Everything you've read?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Oh, well, when I found out that I was going to be going to Hogwarts I got a few extra books for background reading. And you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"Oh," Harry replied hesitantly. "Did any of the others have anything more than The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts did?"

Hermione turned her head to one side and pouted for a moment. When she straightened up, she seemed to have come to a conclusion. "No, not really; The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts was the most comprehensive and had the most theories about…well…how you survived."

"But that's just it," Harry replied. "It only had a bunch of theories about what happened, it didn't really know much of anything about it."

"But no one really knows what really happened for sure. Except maybe Dumbledore, that's probably why he hid you away. He must have known something…"

"But Dumbledore didn't hide me," Harry interrupted. "I was adopted by a family in Asia. According to Mr. Piccolo, Dumbledore didn't know where I was."

"But I thought that was how you knew Marital Arts," Hermione was having trouble with the idea that a book could be wrong. "Dumbledore was training you to fight you-know-who."

"No I study my family's style of martial arts. My dad was once the world champion."

Ron and Neville weren't quite sure what Harry's dad was the champion of, but it sounded really cool. Hermione however wanted to move the conversation to more comfortable subject away from any possible failings books might conceivably have. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad for me. But I'm sure you'll be in Gryffindor Harry, what with how brave you are. You didn't even flinch when Smithy punched you in the face."

Harry smiled and winked at her. "I told you he was obviously a martial arts master. He wouldn't punch hard enough to hurt me. I had nothing to be afraid of." Harry smirked to himself. The last part was true even if the boy in question had obviously never had any training in the martial arts.

Hermione blushed. "Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know. I expect we'll be there soon." Hermione seemed to be trying to regain her composure as she exited the compartment.

"Do you know her?" Ron asked as soon as the door slid shut.

"I met her when I was out to get my school supplies," Harry responded. "I tried to ask her how to get onto the train platform, but she went through when I was talking to someone else."

"Can you believe her, acting like she knew you just because she read some books about you! And I told her that spell was a dud," Ron chose that moment to throw his wand back in his trunk. Harry suspected he knew which of the two complaints bothered his new friend more. "Stupid spell—George gave it to me, bet he just made it up. And whatever house I end up in, I hope SHE'S NOT IN IT!"

"What houses are your brothers in?" Harry asked, hoping to distract him.

"Gryffindor," Ron seemed to calm down, but instead of cheering up, he seemed gloomy. "Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."

"What's wrong with Slytherin?"

"They're a bunch of dark wizards," Ron's voice was eerily quiet. "Every dark wizard you've ever heard of came from Slytherin."

"All of them?" Harry asked. He didn't like the idea of attending classes along side students that were studying black magic and some of his uncertainty must have shown on his face, because Ron's face lost a little of it's confidence as well.

"Well I'm sure some of them go on to be harmless book keepers or politicians," Ron didn't quite sound so sure of himself. "But most of the dark wizards this century were once in Slytherin." Ron sounded more confident. "And You-Know-Who was in Slytherin."

"Voldemort went to Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"Well even he had to learn the basics somewhere didn't he?" Ron sounded like it was obvious.

"You mean they teach dark magic at Hogwarts?" Harry asked

"No, Dumbledore would never allow it, but I hear they do at Drumstrang." Harry never got to ask about Drumstrang, because just as Ron finished the compartment door slid open again. This time by a pail faced boy with platinum blond hair slicked back over his head. Two boys followed him in. Their low hairline, thick brows and general size suggested there might have been some gorilla in their ancestry. They wore Hogwarts robes, but these two were obviously the first boy's thugs.

"Is it true?" the first boy asked, his voice had a lazy drawling sound. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," Harry's voice was frosty. He had never met anyone that kept toughs around that hadn't been up to no good.

The pail-faced boy must have noticed the way that Harry kept his eye on his two thugs, because he introduced them. "This is Crabbe and this is Goyle," he pointed at his two companions respectively. "And I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron tried to hide his sniggering with a cough, but it didn't seem to work. "Think my name's funny, do you?" Draco rounded on Ron. "No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

Ron looked cowed by Malfoy's comments about money. Harry wanted to wipe the smug grin off of Draco's face when the boy turned back toward him. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." Draco extended his pail hand out toward Harry.

Harry heard Ron gasp when he stood up and took the pale boy's hand. Harry just smirked when he gripped it far too tightly and pulled the boy forward so he could whisper in Draco's ear. "I've been hunting down the wrong sort since I was six, Malfoy. I can tell who they are when I see them." Harry's voice was quiet but it carried over the deathly silent compartment.

Harry did his best impression of Mr. Piccolo's smirk for Crabbe and Goyle before sitting down as casually as possible. When he finally looked Draco in the face, it was as white as a sheet.

Draco was sure that he had just been insulted. Not only that, but he had been threatened. No one had ever dared to threaten the son of Lucious Malfoy. But Harry Potter had defeated the Dark Lord himself. Could he actually…?

No. Potter was only a baby then, he couldn't possibly have done anything. He'd show Potter that miracles don't happen twice. Whatever saved him from the Dark Lord won't help him now. No one crosses a Malfoy!

Harry watched as what little color he had returned to Draco's face. Then, the boy's mouth twisted into a grimace and his cheeks turned slightly pink. Rather than make him look intimidating it just made him look more effeminate. "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter. Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys, and it'll rub off on you."

Later Harry would wonder why he reacted the way he did. He should have known that Malfoy didn't know that he'd been adopted. But he still wasn't used to people talking about his birth parents. Maybe he was nervous about school and wasn't thinking clearly. Maybe it was because his dad had recently died. He didn't know, but somehow at that time what Malfoy said sounded like a threat to his mother.

Harry was so angry he didn't hear Ron stand up or tell Draco to get out. He lifted his head and stared at the blonde boy. Malfoy's snide comment about the staying to eat the food in the comment drowned out Harry's whispering voice.

"What's that Potter?" Malfoy said smugly. "Want to apologize? It might not be too late yet."

Harry stood up and stared Malfoy in the eyes. He moved so close that their noses nearly touched. "Did you just threaten my mum?" Harry's voice sounded like something sliding over gravel.

No one will ever know if Malfoy would have been cowed by Harry's show of anger or if he would have continued his taunting and got what was coming to him, because at the mention of food Crabbe and Goyle each reached for one of the piles of food in the compartment. Goyle had the misfortune to reach into the pile next to Scabbers, and before Draco could respond to Harry's question, Goyle let out a piercing wail as he lifted his hand out of the pile with Ron's pet rat hanging by one of the thug's knuckles.

Goyle only stopped wailing to catch his breath as he jerked his hand side to side, up and down and around in a circle hoping to dislodge the rat's teeth from his hand. Crabbe and Malfoy were forced back to avoid Goyle's frantic movements. And as soon as Goyle managed to fling the fat rat off of his hand the three intruders fled the compartment.

Ron was bending over to pick up Scabbers when the door slid open and Hermione stormed back in. "What has been going on here?"

Ron pointedly ignored her as he examined his rat. "I think he's been knocked out…no…he's gone back to sleep."

Harry couldn't help himself. That was funny.

"It's not funny," Ron groused to the now sitting and laughing Harry. "He could have been hurt being thrown around like that." It didn't stop Harry's laughing so Ron tried to change the subject. "So do you know Malfoy?"

Harry took a deep breath to stop laughing before he replied. "No."

Harry turned toward Hermione and was about to apologize for ignoring her but Ron had other ideas. "Yah, well he probably figures that since his daddy's rich he can just chum up to anybody famous like he knows them." Ron said darkly. "But I've heard of his family, they were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." Having said his peace he finally turned to Hermione. "Can we help you with something?"

Hermione sighed, looking put out and Harry tried to appease her by looking apologetic. "You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"

"Scabbers was fighting, not us," Ron replied while Harry tried not to laugh.

"What's so funny about getting into trouble," Hermione asked Harry archly.

Harry had to suppress a new round of laughter and it showed. "I think I must be nervous or tiered or something, but the way you were standing and telling us not to fight and everything, for a minute there you reminded me of my mother."

Hermione didn't seem to take the comparison well. "I was just trying to help," Hermione yelled as she ran out of the compartment. Harry yelled for her to stop as he started to follow her out of the compartment, but she wouldn't stop.

When he pulled his head back into the compartment Ron was pulling his robe over his head. "That got rid of her; I wish I had thought of it."

"I didn't mean to hurt her feelings, for a moment there she really did remind me of my mother," Harry replied.

"That's kind of spooky you know," Ron said.

"I'll just have to apologize to her later." Harry pulled his trunk off the overhead compartment to get his robes. He took a moment to look outside at the inky darkness. He could see forest and make out the outline of Mountains in the background. And the train was definitely slowing down.

"We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately." A voice boomed through out the train, but Harry couldn't see any speakers for a PA system. He quickly through his robes on and began to put the candy that remained into its pockets. Ron did the same.

Once his hands stopped moving and Harry sat down he felt more nervous than he'd felt since Hagrid had first arrived at his home. Ron didn't look too particularly confident either, so they sat in a tense silence until the train screeched to a stop.

Once there, they stepped out of their compartment and into the press of students trying to get off the train. Harry didn't know if the slow pace made his nerves better or worse. But when he got outside it was a relief to hear a familiar voice. "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" Hagrid was easy to spot towering over the crowd. Harry smiled when he saw him and moved toward him. Hagrid smiled back. "All right there, Harry?"

Harry nodded, he was.

Hagrid called out a few more times before he was sure that he had all the first years with him then with a call to follow him he led them down a steep and narrow path. The trees made it so dark on either side that you could only see the path in front of you. No one said much as the walked.

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

Everyone stopped and oohed and awed as they rounded the bend in the path. It slowed everyone down, but when Harry got to the corner he could understand. The path came up to a dark lake and the large castle sat atop a mountain on the far side. Its many turrets were bathed in starlight and lights flickered through its many windows. Magical was the only word he could use to describe the castle.

Harry was drawn out of his reverie by Hagrid's voice calling "No more'n four to a boat." Harry and Ron immediately climbed into one of the many miniature looking row boats in front of them. Hermione and Neville climbed in after them.

"All right then," Hagrid cleared his throat. He had an entire boat to himself. "Forward," he called and all of the boats started to move along the glass-like surface of the lake. Everyone was silent, captivated by the sight of the castle that was getting larger and larger as they approached. Harry was awed by its incredible size.

As they approached the cliff-face Hagrid called for everyone to duck their heads. They passed through a curtain of ivy that hid the entrance to a dark cave that the boats floated down until they came to a stop at a small gravelly harbor underneath the castle.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" Hagrid asked as he checked the boats after everyone had climbed out.

"Trevor!" Neville came running up to the friendly giant to reclaim his errant pet. Hagrid just smiled and led everyone up a long tunnel that finally took them up to the grassy top of the mountain right in front of the castle. He then led them up a flight of stairs right up to the huge front door to the castle. Once everyone stood crowded on the steps he raised his enormous hand and knocked on the large oak double doors three times.

The doors made a creaking sound as they opened revealing a stern looking witch with emerald green robes and jet black hair tied in a bun. Harry was reminded of his mother for the second time that evening.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid did his best at a formal introduction.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." Professor McGonagall pushed one of the doors wide open. The entrance hall was so large that Harry's entire home could fit inside it. The stone walls had torches just like Gringots had. There was a large staircase that led to the upper floors. But what Harry noticed most of all could not be seen. The castle itself seemed to hum with the strange energy he'd been sensing since he had entered the magical world. He could sense that most of the school was behind a set of double doors right, but Professor McGonagall led them to a small empty chamber just off the hall that they had to stand a little more closely to each other than most would have liked.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall turned to face everyone. "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. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. "The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

She looked over the entire group of students, though she seemed to be trying to send Neville and Ron a message with her eyes. Harry nervously ran his fingers through his hair.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," Professor McGonagall said. "Please wait quietly."

"How do they sort us into houses?" Harry whispered to Ron.

"Some sort of test," Ron whispered back. "Fred said it hurts a lot, but I'm pretty sure he was only joking."

Ron didn't sound that sure. In fact he sounded terrified, but a little bit of pain didn't scare Harry Potter. Quite frankly a lot of pain didn't scare Harry Potter. But Pretests, those scared Harry Potter. No one seemed to be talking, except Hermione who was quietly going over the list of spells she knew and trying to figure out which ones she'd need. Harry wished that his mother had let him practice magic before he got here. He'd never done magic with a wand before. He knew that in addition to his martial art's powers he could teleport, become invisible, move things around, and call a sword out of thin air, but he wasn't even really sure that those things were magic. Well he was pretty sure the sword thing had to be, but still as far as magic went it didn't seem like a very impressive list compared to Hermione's.

He was contemplating which of his inhuman looking martial arts skills might help him when someone screamed. Everyone seemed to be looking over behind them where no less than twenty ghosts had passed through the back wall. They were pail white and slightly transparent, just like Harry remembered the spirits in other-world. But what were they doing in the living world? He'd never seen a ghost in this world. He wanted to ask, but he was sure it wouldn't be a good idea to talk about having been dead and being allowed to keep his body and travel down the great snake way to be trained by King Kai, because his friends and family were planning on wishing him back with the dragon balls.

The ghosts didn't seem to pay any attention to the first years and they appeared to be arguing about something until a ghost in tights with a ruffled neck seemed to notice them. "I say what are you all doing here?"

No one answered.

"New students!" a fat monk said excitedly. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few of the students nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" the bubbly monk said. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now, the sorting ceremony is about to start." McGonagall had returned and at her instruction the ghosts passed through the wall in front of them. "Form a line and follow me."

Remembering his nervousness Harry got in line with Ron right behind him as they left the chamber and this time entered the great hall and walked them up to the stand where the teachers sat facing the rest of the school. There were four tables each ran the length of the hall toward the stand and the rest of the school seemed to be sitting at them eyeing the newcomers. Above their heads the room was illuminated by hundreds of floating candles and above that he could see the night sky. He'd read in Hogwarts a History, one of the books he'd gotten when his mother had told him to find out more about the magical world, that the ceiling was enchanted to look like the sky outside. Hermione had apparently read this too, because she was telling someone next to her. It was so well done, that Harry couldn't tell that there was a ceiling at all.

Harry turned to look at professor McGonagall as she set a stool down in front of the line of first years and then sat an old, patched up, ragged, pointed hat on top of it. Harry wasn't sure what was going on, but hopefully whatever they were supposed to do would be as easy, like calling the hat to them.

Harry looked at McGonagall, who was looking intently at the hat. She didn't seem to have any intention of giving them any instructions. Harry looked down at the hat and saw it come to life. A rip in the brim opened up 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!"

A wave of relief swept through the line of new students. "I'm gonna kill Fred," Ron whispered in Harry's ear. "He was going on about wrestling a troll." Harry didn't say anything, but he thought he'd rather wrestle a troll than have some strange hat try to read his mind and then tell the entire school about it.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," Professor McGonagall had pulled out a roll of parchment from which she began to call out names. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A blond, rosy faced girl ambled up to the stool and placed the hat on her head. It fell over her eyes. After a moment she was the first to be sorted into Hufflepuff. The table on the middle-right cheered and Hannah went to sit with them. Bones, Susan was next and after being sorted into Hufflepuff went to sit next to Hannah.

After watching a few people get sorted Harry saw that the table on the far left was for Gryffindor, then Ravenclaw in the middle-left then Hufflepuff and Slytherin was on the far right. Lavender Brown had been the first to be sorted into Gryffindor. She was pretty, but Harry was sure Ron's twin brother's cat-calls and wolf-whistles were more in jest then real appreciation of her good looks. Terry Boot and Mandy Brocklehurst were the first to be sorted into Ravenclaw. And Bulstrode, Millicent, a thickset and thoroughly unpleasant looking girl was the first to be sorted into Slytherin. She seemed to fit right in with the rough looking bunch at that table. Harry had hoped that Ron's opinion of Slytherin was just bias on his part, but looking over at that table Harry wondered if it didn't at least have a strong basis in fact.

As the sorting went on Harry noticed that some people took longer than others to be sorted. That Hat took a couple of minutes to sort Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept loosing his toad, into Gryffindor; though it didn't take quite so long to place Hermione in Gryffindor as well. The latter earned a groan out of Ron. The hat hadn't finished being placed on Malfoy's head before it called out Slytherin. Malfoy seemed to be very pleased with himself as he walked over to the Slytherin table to sit next to his stooges Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry could tell his turn was getting close when two exotic looking, identical twin sisters by the name of Patil were called. One sister went to Ravenclaw and the other to Gryffindor, proving that not all families were sorted together. Perks, Sally-Anne was next. Then Potter, Harry was called.

The entire Great Hall seemed to erupt into whispering at the sound of his name.

"The Harry Potter?"

"Is that really him?"

"He's cute."

"Hair's a mess"

"Doesn't look like much of a hero to me."

Harry walked rigidly up to the hat. He was so busy trying to ignore the crowd's whisperings and quell the nervous fluttering in his stomach that he didn't even notice when he made the sorting hat jump six inches into his outstretched hand or the gasps from the people who saw it.

Harry was glad when the hat finally fell over his eyes so he couldn't see all the people stretching their necks and twisting around in their seats to try and get a better look at him.

Harry felt the familiar sensation of someone speaking to his mind just before he heard the hat's quiet voice in his head. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see, nearly fearless. Loyalty proven by the ultimate sacrifice, I dare say you're the first to have taken that opportunity and ended up here afterward." Harry couldn't help but chuckle at that. He heard the hat chuckle too, this time with his ears. "You have good friends Mr. Potter, one of the better measures of a man," the hat continued in his head. "Not a bad mind. There's talent, oh my goodness, and cunning, yes—and a nice thirst to prove yourself, with a great deal of determination and discipline to go with it. Sadly I don't get to see that combination very often. So where shall I put you?"

Harry focused his mind so he could send a message back just the way Mr. Piccolo had taught him. "Please, anything but Slytherin."

"Not Slytherin, eh?" the hat asked. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that."

"But from the looks of it I'll end up beating up every one in Slytherin by the end of the year," Harry replied. Harry didn't realize that he was fast approaching the longest time under the hat yet. Nor did he realize that he was the only one to have made the hat chuckle. And he definitely didn't notice how deathly quiet the hall had become when that happened.

The hat chuckled again at Harry's response. "I dare say that might do some of them some good, convince them of the error of their ways."

"But I really would rather not have to spend all my time with people that are preparing to become dark wizards."

The hat didn't disagree with Harry, which scared him. "Ah, but it would be the best place to be to protect everyone else from them. Give them someone in their house to focus their animosity on instead of the others; a brilliant tactical maneuver!"

"I can't disagree with you there," Harry began hesitantly. "But I'd really rather not spend all my time surrounded by people I've made enemies of instead of friends."

"Ah, but your friend Piccolo was a very evil man when you and your brother first encountered him was he not? And some of them would certainly stand up for the side of good if they had a peer in their own house that they knew would do so no matter what. Perhaps some of the nobility of the Knights of Slytherin could be restored to Slytherin House!" The hat seemed to be excited. And if it was the right thing to do how could Harry say no, but still he wavered. "Think of the people you could save," the hat whispered into Harry's mind. "Both in Slytherin and without."

"If that's what you think is best, I'll do it." Harry had a heavy heart, but he was willing to take on the burden if it was the right thing to do.

"Gryffindor!" the hat Shouted. And The Gryffindor table did too, doing their best to deafen everyone in the room

Harry wanted to shout. He felt betrayed. He'd just gone through all that mental anguish to work up the courage to be sorted into Slytherin and he was placed into Gryffindor instead. That seemed to have been the point of the test, Harry figured, but it still felt like a let down.

Harry had been slow to take the sorting hat off and place it on the stool due to his musings. When he finally came back to himself he was nearly to the cheering Gryffindor table. The Weasley twins had their arms interlinked and were dancing around yelling "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Ron's last brother Percy shook his hand vigorously, Harry recognized him from the train station.

When Harry sat down he finally got a good look at the staff table in the front. Hagrid was sitting there and when he caught his eye he smiled and gave him the thumbs up. Harry recognized Albus Dumbledore sitting in a golden high-backed chair in the center of the table. He even saw the turban clad Professor Quirrell.

The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers while Harry wasn't paying attention. Dean Thomas, a black skinned boy that was even taller than Ron got sorted into Gryffindor as well. Turpin, Lisa was sorted into Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He looked terrified, but after just a second on his head the hat yelled "Gryffindor!" and Ron quickly took his place by Harry. Percy reached across Harry to shake his brother's hand and congratulate him for making it into Gryffindor when the last first year, Zabini Blaise was sorted into Slytherin.

Harry looked at the shining gold plate in front of him while Professor McGonagall took the Sorting Hat and it's stool out of the great hall. Now that Harry was no longer nervous, he was hungry. The sweets he and Ron had shared weren't very substantial. Harry realized that it had been nearly been an entire day since his last good meal. That was when he felt his stomach twist on itself and embarrass him with an audible growl.

"Ronald," Percy sounded scandalized as he began to scold his brother for Harry's crime.

But before Percy could continue the lecture he seemed poised to give and before Ron could profess his innocence, Dumbledore stood up and began to address the students. "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!" With that he sat down.

Harry just stared at the old headmaster. The only person that Harry knew that was near Dumbledore's age was Master Roshi. And saying that he had his own eccentricities was putting it nicely. But Professor Dumbledore, who having noticed his stare had just winked at him, must be insane.

"He's mad," Harry muttered.

"Dumbledore?" Percy asked. "He's a genius!" Percy answered without waiting for a reply. His words sounded almost worshiping. "Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

Harry looked over at Percy to see him holding a bowl of mashed potatoes. Now seeing the table again for the first time since the headmaster's 'speech' he saw that it was covered in platters of various types of meat and poultry and bowls of several different types of potatoes and other vegetables. "Sure," Harry replied dumbly as he set about filling his plate with some of everything.

Now Harry couldn't eat as much his dad and brother could. They were Saiyans and could easily put away enough food for a dozen normal humans each and plenty more if they were really hungry. But due to his training he ate a good deal more than most normal people. His body required it to maintain his muscle mass and keep producing the amount of ki it did. And after a day full of worrying and only a few sandwiches and some sweets, he was ravenous.

Harry was using his best table manners. He didn't want to make a scene, but the impressive amount of food he was putting away it seemed a scene was inevitable. He looked up to see several people looking at him in awe, including the ghost with the ruffle around his neck, who was sitting in front of him. Harry noticed that the plate in front of it was clean. "Don't you…"

"No," the ghost cut him off. "I don't need to of course, but one does miss it."

It was strange to Harry. He had been dead once, but he'd been allowed to keep his body to train with King Kai. He'd eaten while he was there and King Kai kept complaining about how Harry's dad had nearly eaten him out of house and home while he had been there the year before.

The ghost continued on cutting Harry's musings short. "I don't think I've introduced myself. Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" Ron interrupted excitedly. "My brothers told me about you—you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy…" the ghost began stiffly, only to be interrupted by a sandy-haired boy, Seamus Finnigan.

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

Sir Nicholas didn't look like he appreciated the interruption. "Like this." The ghost grabbed his own left ear and pulled. His head fell onto his chest, hanging from his neck by a small bit of skin. It looked like someone had started to behead him, but didn't finish. After waiting a second or two the ghost carefully lifted his head back on his shoulders.

The ghost grinned at the shocked and slightly nauseous looking faces around him. Harry almost laughed. He stuffed some food in his mouth instead. A less skilled person might have choked, but it wasn't a problem for Harry.

"Well now, new Gryffindor's," Sir Nicholas started to speak excitedly. "I hope you'll help us win the house cup this year. Slytherin has won it for the last six years in a row. It's the longest Gryffindor has ever gone without a win and the Bloody Barron has been insufferable about it."

"The Bloody Barron?" Harry asked.

"He's the Slytherin ghost," Sir Nicholas nodded very slightly toward the Slytherin table. Harry twisted around to look. At first he thought that the nearly headless ghost had been careful about where he nodded his head to be sure he kept it on his shoulders, but after looking at the Slytherin ghost he wondered if Sir Nicholas didn't want to keep from drawing it's attention. The Bloody Barron was the most surly and foul looking ghost he'd ever seen. His robes were covered in a glistening silver substance that looked like blood. Harry noticed that he was sitting next to Malfoy, who was having trouble eating his dinner. Harry laughed and returned to his dinner.

Harry heard Seamus ask, "How did he get covered in blood?"

"I never asked?" Sir Nicholas answered weakly.

When everyone had finished eating, except perhaps Harry, he'd been trying to decide between another stake or a couple of drumsticks, the food vanished off of the dishes leaving them as spotless as they were before the feast began. A moment later the tables were covered with all sorts of deserts. Harry ate at a much more sedate pace and the conversations turned to family.

Listening Harry learned that Seamus was what he called half and half. Apparently his mother was a witch and didn't tell her husband until after they were married. Neville was raised by his Grandmother, who he simply called Gran. He didn't mention what happened to his parents, but it was pretty funny to hear about all of the things that his relatives had done to try to scare him into using some magic. Thinking back Harry realized that he had been deathly scared most of the first times he'd ever used most of his magical powers. He'd lost the sword that Mr. Piccolo had given him in a fight with one of the monsters in Yonsabit Heights and it was charging at his brother Gohan's unconscious body. That had been the first time he'd teleported himself and when he'd gotten in front of his brother he'd had a sword in his hand. He stabbed the sword into the dinosaur like monster's mouth.

Harry hadn't heard the whole question that drew him out of his reverie, but it had made the whole table go quiet. "I'm sorry, what?" he asked.

"Never mind," Lavender Brown looked down embarrassed by the shaking heads of several people at the table including Percy and Sir Nicholas.

Harry felt bad for the girl who was surrounded by new people, who all seemed to know something she didn't. And he was also curious about what she could have asked that got this response. "That's ok, what did you want to know?"

She was blushing when she looked up. She looked nervous. "I was just wondering about your family." Lavender said very quietly.

She looked back at her half full plate rather then meet the withering stares of the people around her. Harry smiled and did his best to look kind. "Thank you for asking Lavender, I live with my mum and brother." Harry smirked at the gobbsmaked looks around the table. One of Ron's twin brothers had dropped their goblet. When he looked back however they were hamming it up, each trying to look more surprised. One had his eyes open as wide as he could. The other had leaned forward as far as he could and had his tongue sticking out of his mouth.

For the benefit of the gob smacked people all around him as well as the girl that had originally asked the question Harry went on to explain that he had been adopted after his birth parents had been killed by a powerful dark wizard. The entire Gryffindor table erupted in whispers after his explanation. Harry leaned back while everyone began to discuss the matter like he wasn't there. It was a part of being a celebrity that Harry thought he wasn't going to like very much. But Harry figured at least this time after the scene most of the people at the table made they were probably too embarrassed to talk to him about it.

Harry looked back up toward the staff table. Hagrid was wiping his beard with his hand. Professor Dumbledore was talking to Professor McGonagall. And looking farther down the table he saw Professor Querrell's turban turn toward him as he spoke to another professor with a hooked nose and greasy black hair. The other professor glared at Harry and he felt a piercing pain in his forehead just where his scar was.

The pain caught him off guard and Harry gasped. Beside him Percy was explaining to Hermione how classes would start with small things like changing matchsticks into needles when Hermione interrupted him. "Harry, are you all right?"

The pain had gone away immediately. "Just a headache, Hermione," Harry tried to explain his outburst away as he turned toward Percy. The boy looked miffed at having his explanation interrupted. "Percy, who's that talking to Professor Querrell?" Harry asked.

Percy suddenly seemed pleased at the opportunity to explain something else. "Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to. Everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Harry didn't like the sound of that, especially if he knew how to cause pain just by looking at someone. Harry might have to avoid his eyes during class. "Does he usually glare at his students like that?" Harry asked.

Percy looked at the head table before answering. "Like I said, he wants Quirrell's job. Now he's a stern teacher, and some people say he's mean, but potions can be a very dangerous subject. We had a neighbor that died in a potions accident."

"So he probably takes a lot of extra time explaining things and pointing out what not to do?" Harry asked.

"No, he usually just writes the instructions on the board and expects everyone to have read the book before class." Percy explained. "When someone makes a mistake he can tell exactly what they did and warns the whole class not to do the same thing."

Harry decided he'd have to reserve judgment until he had attended the man's class. The chemistry tutor his mother had gotten for Harry and Gohan had always explained exactly what they would be doing with dangerous chemicals before they did it and made sure to tell them exactly what not to do and what the consequences of doing so would be. But then again nothing that Piccolo had ever taught him could be classified as safe and he'd almost never gave them any warnings.

Harry watched the potions teacher as well as he could without being obvious the rest of the night, but the greasy haired man never looked back, until finally the head master stood up and addressed the hall. "Ahem—just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." The head master seemed to be looking over the Weasley twins. It seemed their mother may not have been exaggerating the amount of trouble they got in at all.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry laughed at the headmaster's last comment, but he quickly stopped as he was one of only a select few who seemed to think it was a joke. "He can't be serious," Harry whispered to Percy.

"Must be," Percy said, looking thoroughly disgruntled. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere – the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

"Before we go to bed lets sing the school song." Dumbledore called out and drew his wand. He pointed it straight in front of him he began waving it as if to fling something off the end of it. After a few moments a streamer exploded out of the tip and began to form the words to the song. Harry noticed that while Dumbledore was smiling gleefully the other staff member's smiles looked very forced. Except for Professor Snape, who wasn't smiling at all.

"Everyone pick your favorite tune and off we go!"

"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.

The hall was filled with a cacaffony of overlapping voices. Due to the different tempos they weren't even all on the same words, some finishing well before the others. Fred and George were the last ones singing, something that sounded like a funeral dirge. Dumbledore waved his wand like a conductor's baton as they finished. "Music magic beyond all we do here," the head master looked misty eyed as he spoke. "And now bed time, off you trot."

Percy called for all of the Gryffindor first years to follow him. Harry along with the rest of the first years got up and followed him as if on autopilot. After a long stressful day and now being stuffed to the gills with food he was so sleepy that he didn't pay much attention to where he was going. (Something that he'd later berate himself for when he had to make his way back down for breakfast the next day.) Harry was so tiered that he didn't notice the portraits talking in their frames as he passed them. He didn't realize that the stairs that they were climbing moved until Percy warned them that to pay attention to them.

They traveled through several hidden panels and doors hidden behind tapestries and up a couple extra flights of stairs before they stopped in front of a bundle of walking sticks that were floating in the air. They started throwing themselves at Percy when he took a step toward them. "Peeves, he's a poltergeist." Percy whispered to the first years. "Show yourself Peeves!"

The only response Percy got was a loud noise that sounded something like the air being let out of a balloon.

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

This threat seemed to hold more weight with the poltergeist, because he immediately appeared with a loud pop.

"Oooooooh!" the silvery old man cackled from where he floated in the air. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!" He dove toward the new students causing the students to duck. Harry just stood there.

"Go away Peeves," Percy shouted, "or I'll go get the Baron; I mean it!"

Looking disappointed the poltergeist dropped the walking sticks on Neville's head and flew off down the corridor causing the suits of armor to rattle as he past them.

"Only baron can control him, won't even listen to prefects," Percy sounded exhasperated. It seemed to Harry that Percy expected the position of prefect to be considerably more than it was turning out to be.

"Here we are," Percy announced as they walked down a corridor that had a large portrait at the end. "This is the fat lady, the guardian of Gryffindor tower."

"Password," The large woman in the portrait said tonelessly. "Caput Draconis," Percy supplied and the portrait swung open to reveal a circular hole in the wall. Everyone scrambled through till they came to a large cozy room decorated in red and gold with a large fireplace and filled with large squish chairs and couches and several wooden tables. Percy directed the girls through one door and the boys through another. The door led to a twisting staircase.

Once at the top of the stairs they came to a door leading to a circular room filled with five four-poster beds with red silk hangings. Each of their trunks were at the foot of one of the beds. Recognizing his trunk Harry removed his shoes and threw himself into the bed. Ron said something about the food, but Harry was already falling asleep.

Harry didn't know if it was because of all the strange food he'd eaten or just because he'd spent nearly the whole day worrying, but he had a very strange nightmare that night. He was wearing Professor Querell's turban and it kept telling him that he had to transfer to Slytherin, because it was his duty. The strange hat kept getting heavier and heavier and started to wrap itself around his throat and arms. He saw the hook-nosed potions teacher who glared at him. Harry shut his eyes when he felt the pain in his scar and when he opened them again he could see only darkness. "Why do I have to go to Slytherin?" He yelled, but his voice was muffled by the tight wrappings that now covered most of his body. "That's were they put cowards like you," Harry heard the resonating voice of Cell, the insect-like humanoid monster that had killed his father. "You know what you did," the voice accused and started laughing. The laughter started out deep and rich like Cell's laughter had been, but it quickly turned high and if possible even colder, before there was a flash of green light and Harry woke up.

---

Omake:

The ghosts didn't seem to pay any attention to the first years and they appeared to be arguing about something until a ghost in tights with a ruffled neck seemed to notice them. "I say what are you all doing here?"

Harry looked around and noticing that every one else was too stunned to speak. "What are we doing here?" Harry asked incredulously. "What are you doing here?"

"My dear boy," the ghost with the ruffle around his neck began. "We are the Hogwarts ghosts.

"But what are you doing here?" Harry asked again.

"Well, we wouldn't be the Hogwarts ghosts, if we didn't haunt Hogwarts castle now would we?" All the ghosts nodded at that.

Harry just sighed exasperatedly. "But isn't King Yamma looking for you? Don't you need special permission to be here or something?"

"King who my boy?" ghost in tights asked.

"You know, King Yamma," Harry looked at the ghosts incredibly. "You know big guy, horns, red skin, business suit, judges people's souls when they die."

The ghosts all started laughing at this. "And I suppose you've met him then?" one of the ghosts asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied.

One of the Ghosts floated up right next to Harry and glared into his eyes. The ghost looked extremely unfriendly and the front of his robes was covered in a silver substance that looked a lot like blood. "And how did you do that boy?"

"Well I was dead at the time," Harry replied back.

There was a loud thumping sound as the new students hit the floor. The ghosts however didn't stop at the floor and fell all the way through. Harry was the only one standing in the room when Professor McGonagall opened the door.