He's Not Dead Yet
I don't own Harry Potter or the Philosopher's Song. (No, that's not a typo)
That Tomato's Just Ejected Itself!
In the end, Albus Dumbledore decided that his role as Headmaster of Hogwarts took primary importance; although, he was beginning to feel as though even that position would soon be snatched from him (at least, that was what he interpreted from the looks that Amelia Bones kept shooting him). A very strict, middle-aged man named Arthur Aldridge was appointed as the new Chief Warlock, and a cheerful lady named Mrs. G. Crump was appointed the Supreme Mugwump (the first woman to ever hold the title).
Albus Dumbledore soon found himself back in his Hogwarts office puzzling about how things had gone so awry and being shouted at by three of his four Heads of House about what he was thinking. Snape was…Snape, and merely made snide comments about Harry Potter's arrogance that drove the Head of Gryffindor through the roof and initiated her Mother Lioness mode. Lately, Minerva McGonagall had begun to question her loyalty to 'the great Albus Dumbledore' and his decisions; what she figured out was that blindly following Albus had nearly gotten some of her students killed.
"The Stone cannot possibly be stolen, Minerva," McGonagall repeated the memory to herself once she was in the confines of her private rooms. "If anyone mentions it, just ignore it." She shook her head. "That stupid, stupid man." She turned to the bottle of Scotch on her desk. "I've let my students down for the last time. This year, I'm going to keep my eyes and ears open."
Meanwhile beneath the floors of Gringotts, Director Ragnok was meeting with his secretary, Sharptooth.
"Has Mr. Dumbledore returned those Potter heirlooms and the stolen money yet?" Ragnok asked.
"Mr. Dumbledore says that he is not currently in the position to return the 'borrowed' funds," Sharptooth replied with contempt. "He also insists that he does not have the heirlooms."
Ragnok glared.
"If there's one thing I hate as much as a thief, it's a liar," he growled.
"When shall we make our move, sir?"
"Not yet. Soon though. We shall make our stand when the old fool doesn't expect us." Ragnok was silent for a minute. "It is imperative that we retrieve those Potter heirlooms. Among them was Mr. Potter's family grimoire. It's lucky that that book will only open for a Potter; otherwise, the old fool would have access to magic that, in the wrong hands, could destroy the world as we know it."
Both goblins shuddered.
"As for the money," Ragnok continued, "Inform Mr. Dumbledore that if he refuses to pay up, we will simply seize his personal vault and all its contents."
"What about Molly Weasley?" Sharptooth inquired. "She has been illegally receiving money from Mr. Potter's vault through Albus Dumbledore."
"Mr. Potter informed me that he wishes to deal with the Weasleys on his own terms." There was another pause.
"When should we expect Mr. Potter to take up his role as Lord Potter? To say the least of his other titles."
"Mr. Potter informed me of that as well. He says he would like to finish this year before taking up the mantle of Lord. He said he wanted one normal year before he had to do anything too serious. I think we can respect that, don't you?"
"Yes, sir." Sharptooth turned to leave, then stopped. "Sir? Do you really believe Mr. Potter is the one mentioned in the ancient texts? The one destined to bring peace to magical Britain?"
"If there is ever going to be a Chosen One, Mr. Potter is it."
Hermione's response to Harry's letter arrived not long after.
Dear Harry, it read,
Well, you certainly seem to have been keeping busy. I am happy that you found out about your godfather, Harry. I could tell that you don't care much for those relatives of yours, so, congratulations. You were right, I was definitely surprised by your ability to predict how I would react to your news (but don't think you've gotten out of a telling-off for blowing up your aunt).
My summer has actually been very splendid. My parents and I have just spent a week in Paris; we are actually coming back to England in a few days so I will be more than happy to tell you about what my holiday was like.
Harry James Potter, don't you dare think that you are a bad friend. You are the first friend I ever had and I am honored that you consider me to be your best friend; although, I always thought that Ron was your best friend.
I am delighted that you have decided to make more effort with your studies; you are a very smart person and it bothers me that you haven't tried harder to reach your full potential. I think I might just take you up on your offering of books; but not because I feel you need to make amends for anything (it's simply because I love books, and you know it).
So you want to know a bit more about me? Well…
Hermione's letter then progressed into an assortment of details about herself; things like her favorite color or foods, and things of that nature. She didn't give away too much about her personal life or childhood experiences as she was still rather hesitant to talk about that.
About a week after Sirius' trial, Hermione and Ron accosted Harry outside Florean Fortescue's. Harry had to fight the sudden urge to attack Ron; if not for what he was going to do, then certainly for being a double-crossing bastard in what he'd already done. Unlike what happened last time, when Harry saw Hermione, he pulled her into a hug that caught her slightly off-guard.
"It's good to see you," he said.
"Missed you, too," said Hermione. "But don't think I've let you off for blowing up your aunt."
"Aww," Harry mock-whined, "But, Hermione…"
Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled. Ron then decided to butt-in.
"I'd hate to see what the Ministry'd do to me if I ever blew up my aunt," Ron said. "Mind you, they'd have to dig me up first, because Mum would've killed me. Well, anyway, Harry," Ron slung his arm around Harry's shoulder and Harry grit his teeth in annoyance, "We're all staying at the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione's there, too. So, you can come with us to King's Cross tomorrow."
"Oh, uh," Harry replied, trying to force back the biting comment on the tip of his tongue. "I would, Ron, but I've already made other plans."
"What?" Ron said in a shocked voice.
"Well, you know, my godfather, Sirius Black, was just acquitted and he promised to take me there tomorrow."
"Oh, yeah," Ron said, "I heard about Black. Can't believe the git wormed his way out of Azkaban. I bet he did what Malfoy did and bribed everyone."
Harry was feeling an immense desire to punch Ron in the face.
"Honestly, Ronald," Hermione snapped, "didn't you read the paper? Black was tried under Veritaserum and it was proven that he was innocent. Besides, Harry just said that Sirius Black is his godfather. And I mentioned, over and over, that Harry had already assured me he believed in his innocence."
Ron just muttered something about Hermione being 'mental.'
"Besides, Ron," Harry added, a note of annoyance in his voice, "I was at the trial myself. I saw everything that happened."
Ron rolled his eyes and had an expression on his face as if he were trying to explain something simple to a very stupid child. Harry's desire to punch Ron was only growing by the minute.
The conversation of the last timeline followed but with some differences; Hermione was very pleased that Harry decided to take Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, but Ron complained loudly that Harry wasn't going to be with him in Divination.
"I just felt that Divination was a bit dodgy. After all, I seem to remember someone saying in first year that McGonagall told her about how woolly a subject it is."
Hermione gave Harry a playful whack on the arm. The conversation then turned to Hermione's interest in buying a pet. Harry once again had to restrain himself, this time from grabbing Pettigrew (who was looking even paler and thinner than in the last timeline; probably because Sirius was a free man and had informed the Aurors about him being an Animagus); but Harry had a plan and Sirius knew where to be when they acted. After they went off to Magical Menagerie, where Hermione purchased Crookshanks, the three headed back towards the Leaky Cauldron.
"You bought that monster?" Ron said in a disgusted tone.
"He's gorgeous, isn't he?" Hermione replied.
"Hermione, that thing nearly scalped me!" said Ron.
"He didn't mean to, did you, Crookshanks?" said Hermione.
It began to dawn on Harry that Crookshanks might have known that it wasn't just Scabbers who was untrustworthy. From what he remembered, the cat never really did like Ron.
"And what about Scabbers?" said Ron, pointing at the lump in his chest pocket. "He needs rest and relaxation! How's he going to get it with that thing around?"
"That reminds me, you forgot your rat tonic," said Hermione, slapping the small red bottle into Ron's hand. "And stop worrying. Crookshanks will be sleeping in my dormitory and Scabbers in yours, what's the problem? Poor Crookshanks, that witch said he'd been in there for ages; no one wanted him."
"Wonder why," said Ron sarcastically.
"Ron, there's no need to be rude," Harry said. "As far as I know, Hermione's decisions have tended to be good ones. Well, with the exception of believing those stupid Lockhart books; but, other than that, I feel she has always been very sensible."
"Thank you, Harry," Hermione said. Harry looked Hermione in the eyes for a moment and he saw that his words really had meant a great deal to her.
Ron, on the other hand, was looking thoroughly miffed. For one of the first times ever in their friendship, Harry had taken Hermione's side over his.
They entered the Leaky Cauldron and Harry was immediately greeted by the other Weasleys.
"Harry, how nice to see you," Percy Weasley greeted him.
"Hello, Percy," Harry replied politely as he shook the older boy's hand. "Congratulations on making Head Boy, by the way."
"Thank you, Harry."
"Harry!" Fred exclaimed, pushing Percy out of the way. "Simply splendid to see you, old boy-"
"Marvelous," George added, "absolutely spiffing!"
"That's enough, now," said Mrs. Weasley.
"Mum!" said Fred, as though he'd only just spotted her and seizing her hand, too. "How really corking to see you-"
"I said, that's enough," said Mrs. Weasley. "Hello, Harry, dear. I suppose you've heard our exciting news?" She pointed to the brand-new silver badge on Percy's chest. "Second Head Boy in the family!" she said, swelling with pride.
"And last," Fred muttered under his breath.
"I don't doubt that," said Mrs. Weasley, frowning suddenly. "I notice they haven't made you two prefects."
"What do we want to be prefects for?" said George, looking revolted at the very idea. "It'd take all the fun out of life."
"You know, my dad was a Head Boy," Harry said, "and from what I've heard he still knew how to have fun."
"Really?" Fred inquired.
"Yeah, he and his three friends were quite notorious pranksters, and one them was a prefect."
"You're joking?" George said.
"They had some sort of name for their group. What was it? Oh yeah, the 'Marauders' I believe they called themselves."
Fred and George exchanged looks of shock and awe.
"They even had their own nicknames," Harry continued, "I seem to recall that my dad was called 'Prongs.'"
Fred and George then began to mock-bow to Harry.
"We are not worthy, oh great son of Prongs," they said, "Heir of the Marauders, the purveyors of mischief, our great mentors."
People were exchanging confused glances at that point.
"You know," Harry whispered to the twins, "I might just be able to arrange it so that you guys can meet Padfoot and Moony."
"You'd really do that-"
"For us, Harrikins?"
"Of course; you guys are my friends." Harry knew that Fred and George would probably sell their souls to him for the chance to meet at least one of the Marauders. It was only natural that the Marauder's Map soon found its way into Harry's possession.
Dinner was very pleasant, just like the last time; although, this time, Harry was able to figure out there was something going on when Mrs. Weasley had him sit next to Ginny and Hermione next to Ron.
Could the old bint be more obvious? Harry thought contemptuously.
"So, Harry," Arthur said in a pleasant manner, "how's your summer been, so far?"
"It got a lot better after I left the Dursleys," he replied. "I decided to address some problems with my life and got legal representation from the magical law firm of Bayly, Black, and Prewett."
"Oh, Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley spoke up, "I don't see why a boy your age needs to be getting involved in legal nonsense like that."
"Well, Josiah Prewett has been very helpful in my financial matters, Mrs. Weasley." Harry noticed that Mrs. Weasley flinched when he mentioned the name of her Squib cousin.
"Hey, Mum," Fred added, "isn't Josiah Prewett your cousin?"
"Well, yes," she admitted grudgingly. "But we don't really talk that much. He is a very bitter man who was jealous because he and his parents were Squibs."
"Mr. Prewett didn't seem very bitter, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said. "He's perfectly happy working as an accountant at the firm. He also introduced me to his son, Elijah, who has actually shown some magical potential and may get a Hogwarts letter in a few years."
"Hey, maybe we could meet him," George suggested.
"It would be a nice chance to learn about the legal world as well as get to know more of our family," Percy added.
"Boys," Mrs. Weasley said anxiously, "don't get your hopes up. Josiah and I haven't spoken in years and I doubt that is likely to change."
The boys looked rather disappointed, but Harry whispered to George that he would see what he could do to arrange a meeting. As dinner progressed, Harry couldn't help but notice the subtle glances that Mrs. Weasley kept shooting at him and Ginny; it was really starting to grate on his nerves. Harry really hoped Sirius would hurry up.
Sure enough, Sirius appeared in the stairwell and immediately spotted Pettigrew at the table.
"There he is!" Sirius shouted and pointed towards the rat.
Peter, realizing the jig was up, wriggled free of Ron's hand and began to scurry away as fast as he could
"Stop him! Don't let him escape!"
It turned out that Hermione's decision to purchase Crookshanks was indeed a good one. The ginger-haired part-kneazle darted after the fleeing rat and snatched him by the tail right before he could escape through a hole in the wall. Throughout all of this, Ron had been vehemently shouting about why a crazy man was trying to kill Scabbers. Crookshanks carried the frantically struggling rodent over to Sirius who immediately performed the spell that forces Animagi to reveal themselves. Sure enough, there was the balding little man who had betrayed so many people standing before the patrons of the Leaky Cauldron.
"Who the bloody hell is that?!" Arthur shouted, realizing now that a strange man had been living in his home for twelve years.
"A sniveling, little, rat-faced git," Sirius replied, "Also known as Peter Pettigrew."
"Someone call the Aurors!" Molly shrieked.
About ten minutes later, Peter was being hauled off to a Ministry holding-cell. Once everyone had calmed down, Harry turned to the Weasleys and said:
"By the way, this is my godfather, Sirius Black; also known as Padfoot."
The following morning saw everyone off to Kings Cross. Sirius had decided to escort Harry to the station himself; something Harry was grateful for as the Weasleys were notorious for their inability to get there on time. Harry had invited Hermione to come with him and Sirius, so as to avoid being late; something which she readily agreed to.
At the train station, Harry headed towards the compartment where he remembered Remus Lupin would be. Harry had done some thinking about his relationship with Remus in the other timeline and it led to Harry coming up with a number of questions. Questions he was most eager to have answered. He wanted, most of all, to know why Remus hadn't tried to seek him out if he was supposed to be such a good friend of his parents. Harry didn't know that his questions would be answered without even having to ask them.
Remus was, understandably, rather emotional during his reunion with Sirius. He apologized profusely for ever believing Sirius was capable of betraying James and Lily. Sirius responded with his own apology for suspecting Remus.
"Harry," Sirius said, "This is Remus Lupin, an old friend of mine and your parents'."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Lupin," Harry said.
"It's nice to finally see you again, Harry," Remus said with a rather sad and guilty expression. "I would like to apologize to you as well." He gave a slight sigh. "I apologize for never seeking you out years ago. Your parents were two of my best friends and yet I let down their only son." Remus paused. "Once I had heard of your parents' deaths, I had, in fact, gone to Professor Dumbledore and asked about you. He had told me that you were safe and that he had placed you with a decent family." Remus' eyes darkened. "I pressed that, as a friend of your parents, I should be the one to raise you. But Dumbledore said that it was not what James and Lily had stated in their will. Not long after that, a certain bill was passed by the Wizengamot that made it impossible for…ehem, for someone like me to look after you.
"After that, I went back to Dumbledore and asked where he had sent you. I wanted to at least be able to see for myself that you were all right." Remus gave a dark chuckle. "The old man said that there was no need for it. He then brought up, very subtly, the fact that I owed him a great deal and I dropped the issue. I tried for several years to find out where it was that you lived; all that I managed to gather, though, was that you were living with Muggles. Had I known…" He trailed off for a moment then shook his head sadly. "I tried sending you numerous letters, but the owl always returned almost immediately after. Once I read that article in The Quibbler about the anti-mail wards, I knew that must have been the reason." He looked Harry straight in the eyes and the teenager could see years of regrets in them. "I am truly sorry how much I failed you, Harry. Do you think you could ever forgive me?"
Harry gave Remus a warm smile.
"I think I can, Moony," Harry said.
Seeing as there was no further need for the dementors to hang around the school, the incident on the train never happened. Fred and George also got to meet yet another of their heroes and spent just as much time hounding Remus as they had done to Sirius the night before. As the train got moving, Harry decided to get up and go look for Luna and ask her to join them.
"Where are you going, Harry?" Ron asked
"Going to find someone I met in Diagon Alley," he replied.
Ron gave him a curious glance, which he ignored. It didn't take Harry long to find Luna; she was sitting by herself and was reading a copy of The Quibbler upside-down. Harry slid open the door of the compartment and stepped inside.
"Hey, Luna," he said. "How are you?"
"Oh, hello, Harry," she replied dreamily. "I'm fine."
"Why are you sitting by yourself?"
"Oh, it's no problem but not a lot of people want to hang around me."
"Well, if you want, you're more than welcome to come and sit in my compartment with my other friends."
"Alright, then." She sounded a bit more cheerful than before. "Is it true you're friends with Ronald Weasley?"
"Um, sort of."
"You should be careful around him; he has a nasty case of wrackspurts."
"I noticed."
"Ronald and Ginevra have both had wrackspurts for a long time."
"Oh, you know Ron and Ginny already?"
"Yes, I live just over the hill from them. Ronald nicknamed me 'Looney Lovegood' when we were little."
"That's not very nice. Don't worry, Luna; if he calls you that, I'll tell him off."
"Thank you, Harry."
Unbeknownst to Harry, the young blonde girl had started to blush at his promise. No one but her daddy had ever defended her before.
Harry led her to the compartment; Fred and George had since left and the compartment now had only Ron, Hermione, and Lupin. When Ron saw who was with Harry, he cringed.
"Harry," Ron began to whisper loudly to Harry; probably with the intention of having everyone else hear, "what are you doing with Looney Lovegood?"
"Her name's Luna and she's my friend, Ron," Harry hissed. "Don't you dare make fun of her."
After a little while, Remus excused himself to go speak with the driver.
Hermione decided to make Luna feel welcome, despite being a little off-put by the younger girl's eccentric personality. Ron refused to stop scowling, and whenever he spoke he had an attitude that plainly indicated he didn't want her around. Eventually, the group was joined by Neville, whom Harry gladly welcomed.
"Oh, Harry," Neville said, "I really owe you a huge thank you for telling me about wands. When I explained to Gran what you told me about how wands are supposed to choose the wizard, she took me to Ollivander's to check. And now…" He proudly held up his new wand. "Cherry, thirteen inches, with unicorn hair core."
"If you don't mind my asking, why didn't you already have your own wand, Neville?" Hermione asked.
Neville began to blush a bit.
"I-I was using my dad's wand. Gran made me use it the past two years because she thought that if it was good enough for my dad that it would be good enough for me."
"Why were you using your dad's wand, won't he need it?" Ron asked tactlessly.
"Ron," Harry snapped as he gave the red-head a slight whack upside the head. "That's a personal question and he might not want to answer it."
"Bloody hell, Harry, when did you turn into Hermione?"
Neville gave Harry a grateful look and Hermione glared at Ron.
"Congratulations, Neville," Harry said. "Knowing that you could do magic with a wand that wasn't your own is a good sign that you're probably quite powerful."
"Th-Thanks, Harry."
A few minutes later and they were interrupted by three very unwelcome guests.
"Well, look who it is," Malfoy sneered, "Potty and the Weasel. I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley; did your mother die of shock?"
"Malfoy, your jokes get more childish every year," Harry said without even looking up at his archenemy's appearance.
"Shut up, Potter; you think you're lucky just because Black's not out to kill you?"
"No, but I am lucky because Sirius is my godfather and the official Head of the House of Black of which your mother is a member. Should he so wish, my godfather could have your parents' marriage dissolved and kick both you and your mother out of the Black family; what exactly would that mean for you, Malfoy?"
Draco looked, if possible, even paler than usual. If Black did what Potter suggested, then Draco would be a bastard with no name. However, Draco was not known for his brains and decided to pull out his wand to threaten Harry. Unfortunately for Draco, Harry had learned a thing or two. In a sudden crack and a flash of light, Draco Malfoy was replaced by a white ferret. There was a deafening silence before raucous laughter filled the entire compartment.
"Harry," Hermione said, her tone demanding, "that was very irresponsible and…how did you do that advanced a transfiguration?"
"I'll tell you later," he said with a shrug. He then bent down and picked up the struggling ferret. "So, Malfoy, have you learned your lesson?" The ferret nodded frantically. "Very well, then."
With a flick of his wand, Harry returned Malfoy to his human state. Now that he realized it would be a bad idea to further aggravate Potter, Malfoy and his goons left as quickly as they could.
"Bloody hell, Harry; that was brilliant!" Ron exclaimed.
"I have to admit," Hermione added, "that was very impressive magic. How did you do that, Harry?"
"I got some practice during the summer."
"But…we're not allowed to use magic outside of school."
"That's what they want you to think. You see, we have something called the Trace that is put on us until we're seventeen that reports use of magic to the Ministry. However, the Trace only shows if magic is used around an underage witch or wizard; it doesn't show who used magic. That's why I got in trouble last summer when Dobby used magic at my relatives' house."
By now, everyone was listening intently; including Luna, though she didn't look it.
"So, what you're saying is that we can use magic in a place where there are other witches or wizards, and we won't get in trouble?" Hermione asked.
"Well, that or you practice in a heavily warded house. With the right kind of wards, even a Muggle household is a safe place to do magic."
Hermione's eyes were wide and sparkling; Harry knew she was silently pleading with him to find out how to get those wards set up for her. Harry gave a bemused sigh.
"Yes, Hermione, I will contact some people who can ward your house."
Without warning, Hermione launched herself at Harry and hugged him.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can finally show my parents what I've been learning at school."
"You're welcome, Hermione. I was going to suggest it anyway. Having your home warded is good for other things, too. I got a catalogue from a really great warding company. You want to see it?"
"Yes!"
Harry withdrew a large, paper compendium entitled Bulwark's Warding Company that was immediately snatched from his hands by a very enthusiastic Hermione. Harry noticed the girl's eyes were glazed-over as she read every word before her. Ron was giving Hermione a disgusted look, as though he couldn't understand why anyone would want to read something they didn't have to.
It wasn't long before the train pulled into the familiar site of Hogsmeade Station. Harry was very curious about whether or not he would be able to see the thestrals. Sure enough, when the students approached the waiting carriages, there were the skeletal-looking, winged horses. Tentatively, Harry reached out a hand and patted one of the creatures on the snout.
"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione asked.
"Petting the thestrals," he responded.
"The what?"
"I can see them, too," Luna interjected.
Ron swirled a finger around next to his head to imply something about Luna's sanity.
"Harry," Hermione continued, "there's nothing there. The carriages pull themselves."
"Actually, Hermione," Neville spoke up, "I see it as well; it's sort of a skeleton horse thing."
"Thestrals," Luna repeated, "they can only be seen by those who've seen death."
Hermione looked instantly embarrassed while Ron just seemed to be getting impatient.
"Whatever," the red-head said, "can we just get in the carriage? I'm starving."
Harry, still very much the gentleman, offered Hermione and then Luna a hand into the carriage. Once they were all inside the vehicle, the thestrals began to move forward.
"This carriage smells funny," Ron complained.
It was true; the carriage had a faintly moldy smell to it. Note to self, Harry thought, have the carriages refurbished.
It had started to rain by the time the carriages pulled up outside the entrance hall. Ron and Neville were the first ones out, followed by Harry who gave the girls a hand down. As they were heading in, McGonagall called Hermione over for a quick word. A minute later, Hermione had rejoined them.
"What was that about?" Ron asked.
"Oh, nothing," Hermione answered with a smile.
Harry smirked knowingly.
"Well, it's almost time for the Sorting; let's get to our seats," he said.
Luna gave them a parting wave as they split up to go to their own House tables. Soon enough, the line of first-years entered.
"Did we ever look that terrified when we were that little?" Harry asked jokingly.
"You might have," Hermione replied.
Professor McGonagall brought forth the Sorting Hat and placed it on the stool. The rip near the brim of the Sorting Hat appeared and the ancient artefact burst into song.
"Immanuel Kant was real pissant
Who was very rarely stable.
Heidegger, Heidegger was a boozy beggar
Who could think you under the table.
David Hume could out-consume
Schopenhauer and Hegel.
And Wittgenstein was a beery swine
Who was just as schloshed as Schlegel.
There's nothing Nietzsche couldn't teach ya
'Bout the raising of the wrist.
Socrates, himself, was permanently pissed…
John Stuart Mill, of his own free will,
On half a pint of shandy was particularly ill.
Plato, they say, could stick it away;
Half a crate of whiskey every day.
Aristotle, Aristotle was a bugger for the bottle,
Hobbes was fond of his dram,
And Rene Descartes was a drunken fart: "I drink, therefore I am."
Yes, Socrates, himself, is particularly missed;
A lovely little thinker but a bugger when he's pissed."
By the end of the song, a large number of Muggle-born and half-blood students were in hysterics and applauding wildly. Almost every pure-blood in the room was confused, but most clapped politely.
"I didn't get it," Fred said.
"The song was making fun of famous Muggle intellectuals," Hermione replied through her laughter. "It implies that all the famous philosophers were drunks."
"Which probably isn't that far from the truth," Harry said with a smirk. "Though, I wish the hat had mentioned Diogenes the Cynic. He was a Greek philosopher who believed so strongly in the wickedness of material possessions that he spent much of his life living naked in a barrel."
Fred and George were looking at Harry in a way that suggested they weren't sure whether or not he was having them on.
"Harry, how do you know so much about Greek philosophers?" Hermione asked.
"Well, you have to know these things when you're the Boy-Who-Lived, you know," he replied with a shrug.
Thirty or so minutes later, the students were sorted and the feast was begun.
Yes, Harry thought, it's good to be home.
Author's Note: The little factoid about Diogenes the Cynic was just something I had to throw in there; it's also completely true. Diogenes was a crabby old philosopher who lived in a barrel and had an absolute lack of any sort of social graces (he even pissed at people he didn't like).