Samael – Harry Potter.
"Perks, Sally-Anne!"
As the brunette eleven-year-old stumbled forward, half of the student body of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry glanced up and then away in boredom, eyeing their dinner plates in hunger. As Perks, Sally-Anne sat on the stool she shot her elder sister, sitting among the Hufflepuffs, a nervous smile before the Sorting Hat slid down over her eyes and silence filled the hall.
"Hufflepuff!" the Sorting Hall called and the black and yellow house let out a round of applause as the blushing girl removed the hat and hurried over to sit down beside her beaming sister.
When the buzz had died down and the student's attention had returned to their plates, Professor McGonagall raised the parchment in her hand and faltered at the next name on the list. Glancing up at the crowd of first years, Minerva cleared her throat slowly.
"Potter, Harry!"
Instantly everyone in the hall snapped to attention, eyes turning to the group of first years expectantly as they waited for the Boy-Who-Lived to make himself known.
And they weren't disappointed.
Slowly the four remaining eleven year olds parted to reveal a fifth black-haired boy who strode forward confidently as whispers exploded through the hall.
"Potter? As in Harry Potter?"
"That's Potter? I thought he'd be taller"
"That can't be Potter, he's not wearing glasses"
"Harry Potter? He's a fraud! He looks nothing like Harry Potter!"
Unaware (Or perhaps just simply not caring) of the quiet murmurs, Harry Potter continued towards the Sorting Hat with straight shoulders and a calm expression. As he sat down on the stool he had a split second glimpse of hundreds of faces craning to get a proper look at him, the Sorting Hat falling over his eyes moments later.
"Well, well, well… what do we have here?"
Harry found himself on alert instantly, his body tensing as the voice whispered in his ears.
"What a talented child you are," the voice continued slowly, "I'm afraid, young man, that you'll need to lower your shields so I can sort you. I cannot sort those whose minds are blocked".
'I'm not lowering my shields,' Harry projected awkwardly, wondering if the Hat would even get his message.
"Unfortunately you must, as I said, I cannot sort you unless you do," the Sorting Hat explained as Harry found an otherwise piercing silence filling the hall, "If it makes you feel better I am unable to reveal what I find in your mind to anyone else".
'It's not that,' Harry denied quickly, 'Well not just that. But it's because I can't lower my shields, they're not mine in the first place,' he explained.
"Is that so?" the Hat mumbled curiously, "What kind of enchanted item do you possess that you cannot remove?"
'I am not an item,' a silky voice corrected making Harry grin slightly at his 'brother's' voice.
"Oh my," the Hat exhaled, clearly sounding shocked at the presence of a second being in Harry's mind, "It's been awhile since I've sorted one of your kind my Lord".
'I am Samael. What purpose have you inside my charge's mind?' 'Samael' demanded coldly.
"I merely wish to discover his traits and sort him to one of Hogwarts' four Houses," the Sorting Hat explained as the gathered Hogwarts students started to look at each other in confusion.
'I see. My young charge here is quite the studious one, he wishes to be placed in Ravenclaw,' Samael declared, 'I'd much rather he joins Gryffindor however, he could use a little courage and daring. Also those lovely twins from the train are Gryffindors, they could teach him how to have a little fun'.
'Hey!' Harry complained as the Sorting Hat chuckled, 'Just because I'm not an uneducated barbarian like you Sammy!'
"Well the Headmaster has requested that I put you in Gryffindor for some reason," the Sorting Hat confessed, "So with your permission my Lord I will do so".
'What? Don't I get a say in this?' Harry whined with a pout.
'No,' Sam dead-panned, 'That Granger girl is in Gryffindor, spend time with her. You have my permission Gillian'.
"Oh! It's been so long since I've heard my own name," the Hat chirped, "I do hope you'll come visit me sometime my Lord, it's so awfully boring these days. GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat finished, yelling out the final word to the entire hall of students.
Taking off the Hat and handing it back to the Professor, Harry walked over to the loudly cheering Gryffindor table and slid onto the bench beside a beaming Hermione, having quickly befriended the bushy-haired girl on the train.
"You didn't tell me you were Harry Potter," Hermione instantly scolded, her frown only lasting a second before she was smiling at him again.
"I told no one", Harry whispered back as 'Thomas, Dean' went up to be sorted. "Being famous is a bitch, pardon the French".
'Stop being so polite,' Sam muttered in his mind, making Harry roll his eyes. 'I saw that,' he added.
'Oh shut up,' Harry countered,
Putting his finger to his lips and whispering "Later," to what looked like a question-filled Hermione, Harry turned back to pay attention to the rest of the Sorting as Thomas, Dean joined Gryffindor and sat beside the half-blood (Seamus, he believed) Harry had spoken to on the train. As Turpin, Lisa became a Ravenclaw, Harry grimaced as he saw the next person to go up to be Sorted, the obnoxious red-head he had bumped into while getting his school supplies stomping up to the stool with a scowl on his face.
After a minute or so of arguing with the Sorting Hat, through which Weasley's face turned a concerning red that matched his hair, the Hat finally shouted out 'Gryffindor!', sounding more than frustrated with the boy.
As Weasley's face lit up and he pulled the Hat off to hand to the Professor, Harry felt a sense of foreboding fill him as he glanced down at the empty space beside him. "Quick!" he hissed to the tall boy sitting next to him as Weasley's eyes locked onto Harry's position, "Move over, I don't want to sit next to him".
After shooting him an amused look the boy shuffled over obediently, leaning forward and saying something about 'Beating off a bludger' or something (Which Harry was almost convinced was an innuendo) to the black-skinned girl sitting opposite Hermione.
'Close one there Harry,' Sam murmured, 'I get the feeling this boy is going to be quite the nuisance'.
'Tell me about it,' Harry thought back, pretending not to notice the way Weasley scowled again before moving over to sit at the far end of the table.
'No,' Sam denied simply, the smirk audible in his voice.
As Zabini, Blaise went to Slytherin, Harry's attention was drawn to the bearded man wearing almost blinding yellow robes, the old man standing up slowly as silence rolled across the great hall. The old man beamed suddenly, spreading his arms as he looked over the students slowly, looking almost ecstatic to see them all.
"WELCOME!" the man exclaimed happily, "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! Now, before we begin our feast, I would like to say just a few words. And here they are!" he declared before clearing his throat and placing his hand on his adam's apple. "Nitwit!" Albus Dumbledore burped out, "Blubber!" he continued with another burp, "Oddment! Tweak!"
Clearing his throat again the Headmaster sat back down with a proud smile on his face as the student body clapped and cheered, Professor McGonagall looking at him in disapproval. "It was rather impressive wasn't it?" Dumbledore preened, "Thank you. Now! Let us eat!"
Turning back to the table Harry's jaw almost fell open at the sight of the steaming food that had appeared on all the dishes in front of him. "Wow," Hermione whispered from beside him, making Harry nod slowly in agreement before they exchanged a look and smiled at each other, taking a page from the older student's books and helping themselves to the delicious smelling food in front of them.
"So Potter," a Scottish voice asked making Harry glance over to the older boy sitting beside him, "If yeh don't mind me asking. But everyone says yeh have a 'lightning bolt' scar," he explained tapping his own bare forehead, "Did you really or was that just something the press made up?"
"They must have made it up," Harry agreed as he noticed the way everyone within earshot was paying attention to them, "I've never had a scar".
"What about your glasses?" a blonde boy that barely looked older than Harry himself demanded, "And your eyes are supposed to be green," he added snappishly.
"My eyes have always been grey," Harry corrected coldly, "And I've never needed glasses before".
"That's not what the Daily Prophet says," the boy argued.
'Well he's a dick,' Sam declared making Harry agree mentally.
"And who do you think knows best?" the black girl opposite Hermione interrupted, "The Daily Prophet or Potter himself?"
"What's the Daily Prophet?" Harry asked curiously, glancing at the Scottish Wizard beside him.
"Newspaper," the boy explained, "Notorious for 'forgetting' to back up their information with actual facts," he continued shooting the blonde boy an annoyed glare.
'We can't let that continue, you might need to hire a solicitor if they keep printing lies about you,' Sam advised, 'In fact you might want to do that anyway, you wanted to do something about all the Harry Potter merchandise being sold after all'.
Nodding subtly to Sam's suggestion, Harry turned back to the Scottish Wizard in time for him to stick out his hand. "Oliver Wood," the boy introduced, "Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team".
"Harry Potter," Harry replied shaking his hand, "Supporter of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team".
Oliver barked out a laugh, "That's the spirit Harry, House Pride all the way".
"What's Quidditch?" Hermione asked curiously, leaving Oliver and the three girls opposite them (Angelina, Alicia, and Katie; Gryffindor Chasers) to launch into an explanation of the 'marvellous game of Quidditch'.
That night Harry lay behind the curtains of his soft four-poster bed, silencing runes engraved in all four posters to create an area of silence with the four points.
Stretching out in his silk pyjamas, Harry glanced down to where an almost identical version of himself was twirling their wand between his fingers. "What do you think so far?" he asked Samael, his grey-haired twin blinking up at him for a moment before shrugging.
"This castle is very powerful," Sam admitted slowly, "The sheer density of the magic surrounding this place suffocated me for a moment when we first stepped onto the grounds".
"Even I can feel it," Harry agreed in an exhale, Sam smiling gently at him in response. "What do you think of Hermione?" he questioned, tilting his head as Sam flicked his wrist to cause sparks to explode from the tip of their wand.
"She needs to learn that books can be wrong," Sam confessed with a shrug, "But other than that she's a nice girl, you may finally have a friend you can trust".
"You think so?" Harry mumbled hopefully, a wistful look flashing across his face.
"I do," Sam confirmed, "In fact, the Neville boy seems like he could be a loyal friend, given a little training. Unlike Ronald McDonald".
Harry felt himself sneering automatically at the red-head's name, "I just met him today and I already hate him," he spat, making the Trickster spirit opposite him chuckle.
"You need sleep," Sam decided as Harry yawned, "I'm going to go scout out the castle while you get some rest".
"Be careful Sammy," Harry murmured sleepily as he slipped beneath the blankets, not arguing as Sam instantly reached up to tuck him in.
"Always little one," Sam whispered as he pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead, slipping his wand under his pillow.
"Don't pull any pranks," Harry added softly making Sam freeze with a scandalised look on his face. "Wait a bit so people don't blame us immediately," he explained making Sam relax, "Find out what the Twins' calling card is so we can frame them".
"Oh that's my boy," Sam declared proudly, brushing Harry's fringe out of the way as Harry yawned again. "Rest well Harry, you have a long day tomorrow, you'll need all your energy".
"Love you," Harry whispered as his eyes drifted shut and he faded into a deep sleep.
"Love you too, little one," Samael mumbled, smiling fondly down at his charge before cracking his neck and smirking, turning and diving straight off the bed, falling through the curtains and stretching as he looked around the dorm room. "Let's get this tour started shall we," he drawled, rubbing his hands together before skipping over to the door and freezing, turning to glance at Ronald Weasley's trunk as he bit his lip.
"Just one prank," he promised himself as he turned and skipped over to the boy's trunk, "Maybe two".
SAMAEL
Based on DZ2's 'Part of Me' challenge.
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