Professor Snape watched as the first years began to be called to the front. Clapping when appropriate, he assessed this year's group. There were several influential families; his godson Draco for one, a Greengrass girl most likely heading for his own house, and that appeared to be the Longbottom boy.

Of course, what he was refusing to acknowledge was the fact that the Potter spawn would also be arriving. Somehow, he had reappeared after vanishing for five whole years. Slowly, the names trickled away, new students filling into houses, until...

"Potter, Harry."

Snape blinked, not entirely sure he wasn't hallucinating. The boy skipping over to the stool had the Potter hair, but his clothing was, well, odd. An old form of Muggle clothing, but with unnaturally bright colours. Everything around him seemed dimmer than it should be, lacking the vibrancy the boy's appearance excluded.

He cast a swift eye over the rest of the staff, seeing a fair few of his peers openly gaping at the scene, behaving barely any better than the gawping students.

He watched with a sharp eye, curious and weary, as the brat reached the stool.

Harry bounced over, and removed his hat with a flourish. The Sorting Hat in front of him was in terrible condition; how they had let such a wonderful specimen of the magical craft deteriorate so badly, he didn't know.

Oh well, perhaps even he would bring it up later. In a pinch, he could offer to do what he could with what his Dad had taught him. With that, he sat down and gently lowered the ancient hat onto his head.

'Well well well, Mr Hightop, this is unexpected.' A voice identical to that of the singer said. 'I was expecting a muggle raised Potter, but here we have an Underlandian. None of your kind have attended Hogwarts in over a century.'

'Then I am grateful to have the chance, my good hat.' Harry said cordially. 'If you don't mind me asking, how are you to go about sorting me?'

The Hat chuckled at his formal tone. 'No need for that, Mr Hightop. I'm no foreign dignitary or haughty owl; just a humble hat. As for the sorting, I sense loyalty and intelligence, but both are outweighed by your bravery and cunning. Gryffindor would welcome you and give you a home, but if wish to be great, Slytherin could help you on the way to greatness.'

Harry hummed. 'Snakes are great, wonderful conversationalists, and greatness is all well and good, but from what I've read, Gryffindor sounds best for me. They seem to be far muchier folk'

'I couldn't agree more, Mr Hightop,' the Hat said warmly. 'You will do well in-'

"Gryffindor!"

Harry grinned at the shout, and at the cheering that erupted in response. 'A pleasure, Sir.' he said, before removing the Hat and placing it back on the stool.

He sat down next to Ron at the benches, grinning as he heard "We got Potter!" being chanted. As much as he loved being a Hightop, he had no problems with his birth name. From the history books he had read, his parents had been brave people, much muchier than most Upperlanders.

As he settled down amongst the happy chatter of Hogwarts, he decided he was very glad he had set out on this adventure.

Harry sighed happily, double checking the blankets wrapped around his Jubjub bird egg. He had found the most excellent rabbit hole in the forest, and was enjoying being back home in Underland.

"Oh, I forgot to mention," Alice said, pouring herself more tea as she dodged a scone. "My grandniece Luna will be joining you at your school in a year."

Harry beamed at this; cousin Luna was great, so much muchier than other Upperlanders. "That will be wonderful! The school seems ever so interesting so far; I'll learn to make potions in the morning."

"Well, if you need any help, you can ask Miranda," Alice reminded him. "Just because you go to an Upperland school, doesn't mean she can't still tutor you."

He nodded happily. Lessons with Aunt Miranda were great, even if the potions always tasted horrible.

He gasped suddenly, spinning round to the egg again. "Mum! There's a crack!"

"Oh!" She exclaimed softly. She gently unwrapped the egg, watching as the small crack started to spread. "Why, aren't you a strong one."

They watched, wide eyed, as the regular taps widened the cracks. When Tarrant came out, he came and sat by them, just as amazed.

With a final tap, the egg shattered. A damp, crimson chick looked up at Harry and let out a weak "peep!"

Cooing a soft greeting to the Jubjub chick, Harry scooped it up. Grinning, Alice passed Harry the syringe of pulp Miranda had said would be good baby food for the young bird.

Even Tarrant, wary as he was of offspring of the frumious Jubjub bird, had to admit the young chick was rather fetching as it fluffed out, chirping happily at the food.

"I'll call him Jilib, son of the Jubjub bird." Harry proclaimed, as the newly named Jilib snuggled closer to him.

"A fine name," Tarrant said happily. "I think the little lass is a touch young for tea, but us whom have known Time longer may as well fetch some."

Alice nodded with a small, mad smile. "A celebration for the young one sounds excellent. Mandy should be home from her lessons soon; I'll gather Maddy and the Hare for a spot of tea."

Harry grinned. He would face tomorrow when it came; tonight he was going to have tea.

"Potions!" Harry proclaimed to his bleary-eyed friends once they reached the common room.

"Breakfast." Hermione stated. Ron and Neville nodded, while Harry sighed in defeat.

Entering the hall, Harry made a beeline to the Slytherin table. "Draco!" he cried happily. "How fare thee?"

Draco winced, glancing at his sniggering housemates. "Potter." He said shortly in greeting.

Harry frowned. "Chin up! We have potions; sounds interesting, yeah?"

"Er, yeah. I'll see you in class, Potter."

Ron shook his head as Harry bounced back. "Blimey, Harry, I don't know why you keep talking to Malfoy. He's not exactly friendly, is he?"

"He'll come around," Harry said, shrugging.

"Ah, Potter," Snape drawled. "Our new...celebrity."

The Slytherins smirked. The Gryffindors scowled.

Neville, Hermione, Ron and Draco looked vaguely baffled, but that may just have been from talking to Harry outside the classroom.

"Pleasure to meet you, sir." Harry said, sweeping his hat off in a grand gesture. Snape sent him a scowl that was a touch horrified.

Finishing the register, Snape barked "Potter!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Where would you find a bezoar?"

"You would have to ask a Colywonkle."

Snape stared for a moment. "A...what?"

"A Colywonkle. Similar to an Upperland goat, I believe. Give them a five-leafed clover and they'll regurgitate five bezoars."

"Goat." Snape repeated. His eyes looked slightly glazed, before he seemed to recover. "Mr Potter, a bezoar is from the stomach of a goat. What is this nonsense about, about clowonks?"

"Colywonkles, professor." Harry said, grinning brightly. "Nonsense is simply a word for madness, right?"

"I-"

"Wonderful!" Harry exclaimed. "Shall we have tea?"

"Tea?"

"Of course! Madness and tea!" To Snape's horror, and the rest of the class' shock, Harry pulled out a steaming teapot.

"Not now, Harry!" Hermione whispered harshly.

"But Hermione-"

"Later!"

Faced with the stern look Hermione was giving him, Harry sadly put the teapot away.

The class watched Snape. And watched. And watched.

"You broke him." Draco whispered flatly. Harry started to look vaguely concerned.

"Professor?" He asked hesitantly.

"Detention, Potter!" Snape all but screamed, white lipped.

"Oh."