Chapter 13: The Sorting Hat's Answer
Dumbledore awaited the Sorting Hat's answer eagerly, because it would show what sort of personality Harry Potter had and thus it would reveal his true inner character which Albus could use to manipulate the young child for the greater good. He did not think of it as manipulation, rather as careful parental guidance for the child who had no parents. He wondered his mind back to Hagrid, saying that the mansion in which Harry had lived was abandoned and he could not find Harry Potter. Albus had come to the mansion himself and found that Harry's things were present but the boy himself was gone. Plus the house looked to be in ruins as if a big fight had taken place. And worst of all, there had been no signs of the Dursleys.
He went to Privet Drive to visit the Dursleys and had found out that they had abandoned him at an orphanage of all places. From there Dumbledore had followed the trail to the obviously magical residence in which Harry had been last known to reside. In the chain of events, some parts were missing, and Albus hated to be in ignorance, unknowledgeable of the important things.
He opted to wait and watch Harry before acting, because he was supremely good at patience having lived for so long, he knew that patience was the best solution to EVERYTHING, because it always seemed to work, sooner or later. So long as you had patience your problems was as good as solved. That's why Albus always appeared happy and relaxed no matter what the situation because he was the most patient man alive.
Albus was hoping Harry Potter was put in Hufflepuff, the weakest house of the lot. They were innocent and loyal and worked hard. If Harry was put in the Hufflepuff house he would make lots of friends and he would accept Dumbledore's guidance more easily. Gryffindor was the next best. Then Slytherin. Ravenclaw would be absolutely the worst option because if Harry demanded to know everything before going into a situation, it would cause problems for Albus. He had already set up a challenge by way of the philosopher's stone for Harry, and he hoped he could get Harry to fall into the trap. But no ravenclaw would fall for traps like that. They were too smart to get themselves thrown in reckless situations.
Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, Dumbledore hoped. But his hopes would soon be squashed. He looked intensely at the hat, wondering if he should peek in on the conversation using his mind arts. That would be snooping, and Dumbledore was polite. He also did not want the hat to be angry at him later, because the hat was a good adviser to Albus, and the headmaster used him often to advise him on almost all matters from lemon drop selection to the political games played by the wizengamot and the Ministry.
The sorting hat looked at the crowd, it's black folds rippling open into the shape of the mouth. Taking in a deep wheeze of a breath, the hat shouted out in a loud roaring voice to the still and expecting crowd breaking the silence like the crack of thunder.
"SLYTHERIN!" The entire hall was silent for a few moments seeming to stretch on into eternity. Then suddenly a blonde boy whom Harry remembered as Draco Malfoy started clapping proudly and firmly, and all at once the Slytherin table joined him, until their cheers and applause drowned out the silence that came pouring out of the rest of the hall. The other three groups of children sitting at their tables looked on in astonishment and disbelief. Harry got off his stool, somewhat nervous at all the eyes staring at him, and took bold striking steps toward the Slytherin table.
Green banners hung down from the ceiling above the table billowing from an unfelt wind. The picture of a silver snake -- its eyes blue and gray sharp like the edge of a dagger gazed down at the Boy who lived.
Harry Potter calmly took his seat, taking in the accusing stares of the rest of the children in the Great Hall with a remarkable easiness that he did not feel on the inside. His heart was churning and he grew anxious but outwardly he showed a calm and relaxed face, and made sure to stretch his lips into the semblance of a natural smile. He let his eyes drift across the staff table at Albus Dumbledore, whose blue gaze was looking intently at Harry, and then at Professor Severus Snape, whom Harry had read about in the history books. Supposedly a spy. As he took in the rest of the teachers, he felt a tapping on his shoulder and turned to meet Draco Malfoy's frowning stare.
"Harry Potter, you told me you were a muggle born," he said sharply, "and you wanted to get into Hufflepuff!" He let his fingers tap the hardwood of the table in an unspoken demand. "What is the meaning of this?"
"I did not want the attention, Draco," Harry said smoothly, and tried to drown out the whispers of the Gryffindor table in particular.
He heard one of the red haired twins, whom he had noticed earlier staring at him in shock as he went to the Slytherin table, shout accusingly, "That's the house You Know Who was in!" This seemed to bring out another wave of whispers and dialogue that Harry did not particularly want nor cared for. He felt uncomfortable under the attention.
The sorting ceremony continued, not that Harry paid much attention to it. He intently focused on the golden silverware in front of him, and then felt the cold shiver of a ghost floating nearby. He turned to see the Bloody Baron look down upon him, Slytherin's ghost. The menacing phantom had a pencil thin mustache and looked like a frail sickly looking man. But he was covered in blood, his face had a menacing tint as he gazed downward toward Harry, and his whole image shouted out danger. "Mr. Potter," said the Baron in a cold gravelly voice, "There has not been a Potter in Slytherin for over seven generations."
"Is that so? I guess I must be breaking the mold then, huh?" said Harry. He felt himself being scrutinized intensely under the gaze of his fellow peers of the Slytherin house. "I wasn't expecting this myself. The hat said I would make a good student in Gryffindor."
This seemed to have the intended effect of starting up a semblance of a conversation. Tracy, a first year like himself with long golden hair and a strange scar or discoloration on the tip of her nose, said, "You are out of your place here, Potter," in a sneering manner with her upper lip pulled back contemptuously.
Draco shot her an annoyed look, "Don't be ridiculous, Tracy," he said. "Harry Potter – the Boy Who Lived – could not have been in any other house but Slytherin. This great and noble house was the only place he could have gone. Regardless, if he would have been better off in Gryffindor or not." He held out a hand to Harry, "We might have met before, but let's do this correctly this time. Draco Malfoy."
Harry wondered what Draco was playing at, considering the Malfoy family was a staunch supporter of the dark. He had expected Draco and himself to be fierce rivals, but it seemed as if Draco was trying to get in his good graces. Why, Harry wondered, thinking, what's he doing this for?
He decided to employ a subtle legilimency technique. Gazing into Draco's eyes, he focused on the boy's mind and tried to pick up his surface thoughts. He felt the boy's mind through his inner eye and entered it easily, like he was a stream of water moving between rocky outcroppings. He found out what he was looking for.
Draco wanted to use Harry for his own personal benefit. The blond boy did not care one whit about Harry; in fact he secretly hated the boy who lived. No, he just wanted to get into Harry's good graces so he could use him later in life. Now that Harry was forewarned, he could easily see through the young Malfoy scion's childish manipulations. Harry himself needed a few friends around him, especially in strange territory. Besides, Harry would not do good to rebuff Draco's advances for friendship. To do so would be impolite, and to make an unnecessary enemy out of Draco seemed…. Unnecessary.
Draco's cheeks started to redden. Realizing Harry had taken too long, he grabbed Draco's hand tightly just as the boy was about to pull back. Shaking vigorously, Harry said, "Good to meet you Draco."
Harry breathed in deeply to relax himself just as Albus Dumbledore stood up, his blue robes shimmering in the candlelight of the great hall. He prepared himself to make a speech. Harry's gaze was unexpectedly drawn to the professor in a purple turban, whose black eyes held a shimmer of red hatred. Harry felt a sharp pain in his scar, and recognized it for what it was: a direct piercing legilimency attack made from afar. He strengthened his shields, and the pain disappeared.
As Dumbledore made his speech, Harry mentally repeated his mantra with greater intensity, seeing his shield with his inner eye become stronger and more fortified. He smiled in satisfaction at the somewhat perturbed look on the strange turban headed professor's face.
"Children of Hogwarts, welcome, welcome, to another year at this splendid institution. We are particularly delighted to announce that the third floor is out of bounds to all students, as is the Forbidden Forest!"
As Dumbledore finished his speech, Draco leaned over toward him and said, "The man's barmy, I think."
"Probably is," Harry said, agreeing, "But he's extremely well respected, so I'd keep that opinion to yourself if I were you." As soon as Harry said it, he realized he had made a mistake. The other students were looking at him with suspicion and a certain sense of bei
Draco blinked, and smirked, "No wonder you were sorted into Slytherin. As cunning as a snake, Potter. I wonder how it was that you managed to defeat You Know Who…"
Harry glanced at Draco in annoyance. "I don't know," he said, "But if you ever find out, let me in on the secret."
Draco chuckled softly and then gasped aloud as food suddenly appeared on the golden plates and goblets. Thick red juice filled up inside big buckets from which one had to dip their goblets in. Harry took some and tasted it, letting the sweet juice roll around inside his mouth before swallowing. He helped himself to roasted chicken soaked in a spicy gravy sauce, as well as a bit of white rice and a little bit of yogurt to go along with it. He blended it together with his fork, and started to eat.
A seventh year sat across from him, and kept glancing repeatedly at him and then looked away fast when Harry tried to meet his gaze. After a while, he said, "My name's Tym Barlow. I'm a prefect here, so I just want to introduce myself to…" he glanced down at Harry's plate. "Is that any good? It looks disgusting."
"That's just what I was thinking," laughed Tracy aloud, "You are so right Tym. Harry, what in the world are you doing to your food?"
Harry frowned, "This stuff isn't spicy enough," he said, "I've grown used to muggle food. Curry is the best you know," he said, remembering his summer in London where he would dine at an Indian restaurant every night. He waved his wand and conjured a stream of red powder, which he sprinkled generously onto his gross mix of different food. This had two effects that Harry liked. First it let the Slytherins know he could do magic, so he wasn't just some naïve boy. He was a real wizard with a firm magical foundation. He wouldn't let himself be taken advantage of. Secondly, his spell changed his plate of food to his liking.
He looked up and met Dumbledore's blue gaze, and his twinkling eyes staring at Harry with amusement and a flicker of curiosity. Te old man raised his goblet at Harry, who did likewise, and they drank to each other. Harry shouted out a challenge to Dumbledore in his mind: 'Someday, old man, I'm going to surpass you.'
Harry felt a force that he had not even notice leave his mind, and he felt his stomach clench into a cold ball of tension. Dumbledore nodded, eyes stern and unforgiving. Harry wondered if Dumbledore had heard his challenge. He had to because Harry had been probed! And he hadn't even known it. How long had this been going on? How long had Dumbledore been reading his mind?
He felt inadequate in his own mental powers and longed to be back home in the White mansion, in safe territory where he could simply soak up in a warm tub and clear his mind of doubts and fears.
Feeling a cold drop of sweat trickle down his back, Harry went back to eating. He made a bit of small talk with those around him. He was surprised because the Slytherins seemed not to mind he was the boy who lived. In fact they respected him because of it. Strange. Harry had thought that since Slytherins were Voldemort's core supporters, they would be intensely angry at him.
Perhaps they were disguising it under a mask of sweetness. The old saying, Honey catches more flies than vinegar made Harry extremely uncomfortable right now, reminding him he did not know these children's motivations.
Children who had been sorted into Slytherin for a reason; because they were cunning and ambitious. Harry wondered whether he was an innocent babe who had fallen down the snake's pit. Then he scoffed at that notion as he remembered the numerous battles he had fought, the people he had been forced to kill. The isolation he had suffered under Mr. White. He had psychological problems, he knew. He had to. No other child could go what he had gone through and come out completely sane. He had made his first kill before he was seven years old!
He could survive Slytherin, he thought. But would he come out of it mentally healthy? He disliked mind games because he recognized his mind was already messed up. For one, he had certain antisocial tendencies. He couldn't stand big crowds like the one in Great Hall. He felt out of his depth here, or as Tracy had put it, he was out of his place. A fish that had jumped onto a boat.
When the dinner was over, Dumbledore made yet another speech, and told everybody to follow their prefects to the common room of their respective houses where they would hear the password they would need to bypass the guardian (either a portrait or a statue) and gain entrance.
Tym led the way for the first years, and Harry and the rest followed like sheep. Harry studied Hogwarts intensely, trying to memorize the elaborate route they were taking down into the dungeons. He wondered if Tym was taking a longer route on purpose. The prefect kept up a running dialogue commenting about all the aspects of Hogwarts. Harry soaked up this information like a sponge. He could naturally soak up information; it came easily to him. Effortless.
As they made their way down the dungeons, Harry felt the air getting thicker, and colder as well. He started to shiver in his thin robes that he had bought at Madam Malkins. It seemed ages ago when he had shopped for his supplies in Diagon Alley. Now that he was here in Hogwarts, he seemed to get more "spaced out" as if he was not as alert as he usually was. As if the school was lulling him into a false sense of safety and security, and drawing him into a dark pit of slumber. He shook it off as hard as he could, and decided that it must have been the heavy meal he had eaten. Indeed, he had never had such a good meal before, such a scrumptious and fulfilling meal as a Hogwart's feast. He wondered if there was something in the food that made him drowsier and more subdued. If there was, how would he survive in Hogwarts without being able to eat the food available?
Tym led them through the dark dungeons where the ground was made of hard cement and the walls were old – as old as when it had first been made over two thousand years ago in the time of Assyrian dominance in the world, when only a few handfuls of people existed in the UK. Vikings mostly. The Viking wizards had established a small school to teach children and it spiraled from there, snowballing upward into greatness.
The students came to a stop in front of a portrait of a thin pale looking man dressed in a silver and green cloak, with a snake wrapped around his body. The snake was black, as black as the night sky and had eyes like crescent moons, glowing silvery with hidden power and cunning. Harry felt sliver of fear go down his spine as he beheld the founder of Slytherin, Salazar Slytherin himself. "This man looks scary," Harry whispered to Draco, who merely chuckled, amused.
"He's supposed to be. He was the most powerful wizard in his time," Draco said. "He held out against all three of the founders for ages before simply leaving."
"What happened to him?" asked Harry. He noticed carefully that the other first years and Tym had stopped, listening to Draco eagerly as he explained the life of Salazar Slytherin.
"He simply disappeared. Some say he went to Asia where he learnt all sorts of dark and powerful magic. Even conquering life and death-"
"He's still alive?" asked Crabbe, who was standing next to Draco. "Huh? But I thought he was dead."
"Nobody know's for sure," Draco hissed in annoyance at being interrupted. "He could be dead, or he could be simply biding his time, waiting for the right moment to show himself and rid the school of mudbloods."
Harry frowned, "He was a hater of muggles, then?" He didn't know how to feel about that. He remembered the old woman he had stolen money from, as well as cast an imperio on her. The old sad face that had haunted his dreams and conscience for so long rose in his mind. He felt a wave of sadness and heart stopping despair as he comprehended her visage in his inner eye. Sadness was the prevailing emotion on her face.
Draco nodded, "Of course, muggles aren't fit to live," he said, "Salazar hated them with a passion." Harry wondered how he felt about that, since as soon as he had seen Slytherin's portrait he had felt an instant respect and liking for him. But he did not hate muggles. He liked their food, he liked their clothes, he liked them in general.
"Enough of this," said a clipped and cold voice that was sharp as a sword yet softer than a whisper. The students whirled around, and caught sight of their head of house, Severus Snape. He was dressed in black billowy robes. His hands were clasped together in front of his chest, yet hidden beneath long arm sleeves. His black eyes looked like a cobra's, ready to strike without any warning. Long greasy hair covered the sides of his face, giving a shadowy look to his pale sallow skin. "Tym, the password, please."
Tym nodded, his eyes glittering with hidden fear. Harry felt sympathy toward the prefect, because Snape looked scary and shadowy, dark and evil. He would not want to cross him in a dark alley, Harry recognized a skillful fighter when he saw one. The way Snape stood told everything about the man, his balance and his grace and poise. He was level with Dumbledore in terms of magical skill.
"Basilisk," Tym said to the portrait. Salazar had been still as a statue, but then he nodded slowly and carefully and said with a grating voice, "Enter my abode." The portrait swung open, revealing the inner chambers of House Slytherin. A fireplace crackled merrily with soft light that came from a rippling wave of fear coming strangely enough through the sides in rhythmic burst. A long sofa in front of the fireplace rested next to several armchairs. Shelves filled with books leaned against the dark walls, and curtains of the colors green and silver hung down covering the windows. They entered quietly, seeing most of the other Slytherins were already present. Snape came in last.
Harry stood in a corner next to Draco and the other first years that felt somewhat intimidated at the almost hostile stares from some of the older students. Harry realized suddenly with a jerk that most of the stares were directed at him! So much for not having any hostile anger against him from the Slytherins…
"This is something I say every year," Snape said quietly, "Something that if you don't pay attention to you will find yourself in a great pit of trouble. There are three rules for the Slytherins that all of you must follow without exception." Snape gazed at them, and when his eyes landed on Harry, he sneered in barely restrained hatred. "If you do break these rules, you shall find the consequences slightly… unpleasant." His tone suggested there was nothing slight about the unpleasantness.
"Rule number one: You will never fight amongst your house members outside of the common room. You will never fight with them where others not of your house can see you. The Slytherins must portray a sense of unity… at least, on the outside." Snape smirked at Harry viciously, and then continued on in his speech.
"Rule two, do not lose house points. This is self-explanatory, I feel. For every house point lost by a particular student, they will serve a detention with me and I guarantee, you will not like it.
"Rule three: Never, ever, ever show any signs of weakness to the other houses. Always remain strong and firm and keep all the underlying qualities of the other three houses in mind. I expect each of you to be loyal, hard working, brave, and seekers of knowledge. Slytherin must be the best house – the top most house out of all the other four houses, and therefore adapt, and develop other good qualities as well. But above all remember what characterizes Slytherin, what distinguishes us from the rest. It is our ambition."
Snape said a few more words and then left, his robes billowing against the floor. Draco turned to Harry, "Good man, Severus Snape. Father used to say he-"
"What happened to your father anyways?" asked a girl named Daphne Greengrass. She had black hair and a roundish sort of face. "I read about him in the Daily Prophet, killed by vigilantes, it said." She laughed softly as she said this. Harry at once realized this was meant not only as an insult, but as a challenge issued to let everybody in the first year know she would be their leader.
Harry felt particularly uncomfortable since he had been the person to kill Lucius Malfoy in the first place. Draco answered, sneering, "Will you be laughing when the dark lord comes back? You blood traitors, abandoning-" He froze when he realized the other students were staring at him and at Harry Potter.
Harry himself did not know what to do, should he respond to this accidental attack on his own person by the likes of a weakling of a boy, or should he simply ignore it and go on his way? If he did ignore it, he would look weak, yet if he retaliated, he might make enemies. Should he be strong and have people after his blood and life, or should he be weak and obscure. He could not handle weakness of any form because he wanted power, power over himself, power over others, and power over circumstances. So he did the only thing he could do in his circumstances. He pulled out his wand.
"The dark lord is not coming back," Harry said softly, "I destroyed him, remember?" He knew that he could easily take on this room full of Slytherins, because they would not know how to attack in sync and would simply be a hindrance to each other. He settled on making a fierce rival out of Draco Malfoy. Should he attack the boy, or should he simply insult the boy. "Tell me, do you have the power to back up your words? How do you know the dark lord is coming back when he has been absent for ten years?"
"I-" Draco stuttered, not knowing what to say. Then he took a deep breath to compose himself, and smiling reassuringly, he said, "I did not mean it like that Harry, not as an insult to you. Of course the dark lord might or might not come back, but you should not worry about that. You are the boy who lived after all so-"
Harry saw instantly what he had to do; a flash of intuiting struck him. The Slytherin house was filled with weak-minded cowards like Draco, who had very little real cunning or intelligence about them. They were the manure on which the real flowers of true Slytherin cunning blossomed. Harry could easily take control of Slytherin house, because he was powerful and strong and the powerful were meant to rule over the weak.
The entire house of Slytherins was filled with weak sheep like people, who went along with the majority. He had to establish himself as the top most person in the Slytherin house so in case the dark lord did come back, he would not be able to get recruits from here. He recognized that him being placed in Slytherin gave him a unique opportunity to develop his own power base. The sorting hat was wise indeed, and put him in this house because it was a good opportunity for Harry to test himself and to learn leadership skills, as well as to develop his charisma. If he was aiming to become somebody powerful – more powerful than Dumbledore or even Voldemort, because he was that ambitious – he had to use the power he already had to gain more.
Pointing his wand at Draco he said softly, "Expelliarmus," and Draco's body was thrown backwards into a shelf of books. His wand came sailing toward Harry. Smiling, Harry took the wand and pocketed it. He was using Ollivander's wand, the one most suited to dark magic. What to do with Draco now? The blonde boy started stuttering like a weakling, saying, "Please, Harry, I did not mean it like that-"
"Drop it Potter," said a high pitched voice from behind Harry. He felt the tip of a wand at the base of his neck. So he complied. He let go of his own wand and started to turn around to meet face to face with the girl who saved Draco. She was obviously an older student, a seventh year. "The dark lord is going to come back," she said, sneering, "And when he does your days are numbered."
"Your days are numbered right now," Harry said, and then pulled out Draco's wand from his pocket and before the girl could cast a spell, he silently blasted her off her feet. She crumpled against a wall and slumped to the floor. Harry summoned his own wand toward him, watching as the Slytherin students looked warily at him as if he were a tiger or a lion. "Anyone else have a problem with me? Let's settle this right now, hmm?" He looked at the older students, some of whom were openly glaring at Harry. Draco stood up to his feet, pale and white faced. Pansy Parkinson, a first year who had helped Draco up, pulled out her wand and shrieked out a cutting curse. Harry effortlessly blocked it and just as he was about to retaliate he heard at least five people shout their own dark curses at him.
Inwardly Harry smirked; he was in his element now. He had a few theories as to how he had gained such incredible skill. One was he was a natural genius. The other was that some of Voldemort's talents rubbed off onto him. Harry used the two wands in synchrony, using his own to cast a shield to block the curses and using the other wand in his left hand to simultaneously cast a stunner at the annoying first year.
He sweeped his wand in an arc, and let loose a stream of boiling hot water at the Slytherins who had attacked him. Some of the innocent ones fell to the floor screaming in pain because of burns, as well as a few of the guilty. More people joined the battle against Harry, launching curses and spells at him as fast as possible. Harry backed himself into a corner, because he did not want a curse coming at his back where he couldn't see it. He cast out spells faster than the entire Slytherin house – or the ones that chose to fight, which weren't that big of a number as most of them simply opted to watch the ensuing battle – and blocked, using all his skills at dueling to do so. He saw that he was fighting against ten of the Slytherins, all of them older students. He knew he could not kill them, because that would get him expelled and in a lot of trouble with the ministry. He also could not maim them too much. He had to use some of the lighter spells.
He knew what to do. Slamming Draco's wand at the floor, he wandlessly summoned Merlin's Wand and laid loose with a vast repertoire of stunners and light jinxes and hexes, churning them out faster than a machine gun. Rays of different coloured lights shot out from the crystal clear wand of Merlin, like all the colors of the rainbow, showing which spells he was casting. He stopped whispering the spells, and used his mind to issue them. It was harder to cast silent spells, and he quickly felt his energy depleting but as he got through the seventh year students' shields, he subdued them and put them down with ease.
The battle was over. He knew that before the night was over the entire school would know what he had done, particularly when the Slytherin common room slammed open, and Dumbledore walked in, followed by Severus Snape and Minerva McGonnagall. They stopped, stared at the damage Harry had done – and it was obviously him judging how he was faced off against the Slytherin students most of whom had their wands out and looked ready to attack. "Potter," hissed Snape, "What have you done? I knew having you in my house would prove to be a mistake but-"
"Enough," said Dumbledore calmly and Snape immediately stopped talking like an obedient dog. "Minerva, get these students medical attention please. Severus, Harry, follow me to my office."
Dumbledore turned around and walked briskly through the hallways, Snape on his heels. Harry reluctantly followed, wondering what would happen to him. He was feeling elated. These students were so weak and unskilled compared to him. And he was barely eleven!
He wondered again why he was so strong and skilled, when other students were so weak. He was a natural prodigy but he suspected there was something more to his immense skill.
Something, he was sure, that had to do with Voldemort and his attack on Harry as a baby. As he walked through the hallways he saw the portraits and ghosts staring at him, whispering about him. He was certain that soon the whole school would know what he had done, how he was the Slytherins' natural enemy. He wondered what would happen to him now.
And where he would go from here. One thing was certain, he had his first taste of dominance over a group of people and he would want to taste this forbidden fruit again and again.
And again.
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AN: Hello there! It's my summer vacation so expect faster updates for sure. Please leave a message for me, tell me what you think about this chapter. Also include some ideas for future chapters. Who knows, I might use them if they're good!
And give me some suggestions on how I can improve my writing too. Thanks guys, I'm counting on you readers to keep me amazingly motivated this summer!
As you can see I've decided on the house (Slytherin because Harry's super ambitious), but the PAIRINGS and the ANIMAGUS FORM are still open to debate. So leave your suggestions, don't be shy!!
Anyways, by chapter 19, first year will be over. So next chapter we're moving pretty fast through the plot. I promise that the plot will be DIFFERENT than just your average philospher's stone plot. There will be MAJOR changes!
Okay I'm done my note, which is really long. Leave a review!