Chapter 6

Harry Potter knew he was not a normal boy. Normal boys were not wizards, as a simple statistical fact.

Harry Potter knew he was not a normal wizard. This distinction was not particularly significant when he was younger. The skin-darkening soaps, lotions and makeups he wore regularly were the only concession to this fact.

Some might think he was abnormal because he knew the basics of a dozen different combat forms, both hand to hand and weapons, and was a black belt in five of them. Some might think it unusual that he learned to shoot a gun at age eight. Some might think it unusual that he was already rather competent at magic, with the theoretical comprehension of an OWL student, every spell through second year down pat, and a good many more spanning up through NEWT level under his belt already. Some might think it unusual that he knew three different languages, and had over a dozen different cyphers memorized. Still more might think him strange because of his propensity to case any space he entered, or to place his back to a wall, or to stand where he had a clear view of all entrances and exits.

However, those who thought that would likely attribute it to Harry's grandfather. Although not related by blood, Gramps had been raising Harry for five years, and that was the longest he'd spent with any guardian, including his biological parents. And Gramps was a bloody legend. But one did not survive such amazing adventures without enemies.

Hence, Harry's training. Or at least, to Harry's knowledge.

Harry Potter knew he was famous. He also knew that the wizarding public, being largely made up of sheep, thought he had defeated Voldemort. This, Harry had known for years, was a rather stupid idea.

A much more reasonable explanation was that Harry's mother had, whether through an illegal dark spell she came across or an explosion of accidental magic, given her life to protect her baby from Voldemort. Such things had, for example, been the downfall of several past Dark Lords, including Xing Hoe Ni in 200BC China and Methepsit in Egypt around 4500 BC. Unfortunately, that would require intelligence on the wizarding public's part. Something Harry knew was generally nonexistent.

However, the fact that Harry was blamed for Voldemort's defeat had never been connected in his own mind to his training. Therefore, the eleven-year-old waiting for the Hogwarts express to arrive (so that Gramps could properly secure and ward a compartment before Harry was allowed in) thought his training was simply a byproduct of his Gramp's supreme awesomeness.

When Gramps made his way on to the train to begin the sweep, Harry turned to his other companions, his tutor Remus Lupin and honorary aunt, Amelia Bones, who was fussing over her blood niece, Susan.

"Now remember Harry…" Uncle Remus started. The young wizard held back a groan. "Listen to the teachers…"

Unless, Harry knew, they were out to get him.

"Make sure you keep up your occlumency…"

In case Headmaster Dumbass felt like getting arrested for mind meddling.

"Study hard…"

Although not too hard because you already know most of the spell work and that's half your classes right there.

"Make some friends…"

But don't get to close to them in case they're spies. Or evil. Or annoying. Or brats. Probably all four, in most cases, Harry suspected. Otherwise, Gramps would trust people more.

"Cause some mischief, and most importantly…."

Harry joined Remus for the next bit.

"Don't get caught."

Both wizards laughed, and the elder ruffled the younger's hair.

"All clear." Gramps grunted from the train door. Remus handed Harry's owl cage (Hedwig, his birthday present from Remus, had flown ahead) to Gramps, before taking one end of the trunk and carrying it aboard with Harry's assistance. Susan and Aunt Amelia followed.

Luggage arranged, Gramps acquiesced to Harry's quick hug request before beating a hasty retreat. Gramps wanted the connection between 'Moody Junior' and Harry Potter to be kept quiet, just in case. People were less likely to suspect Harry's preparedness if they didn't know who his Gramps was. Susan leaned out the window to talk to Amelia and watch out for other friends expected to join them, while Harry settled down in the compartment.

Over the next hour, they were joined by a muggleborn named Hermione Granger, Susan's friend Hannah Abbott, and Susan's acquaintance Neville Longbottom. Harry already had profiles on all three (all of his year, actually), curtesy of Gramps, but the muggleborn's was considerably sparser than those of the other two, since the muggles had a far better handle on their children's privacy than wizards did.

"Oh, by the way, Hannah." Susan said, just as the train got moving. "I've wanted to tell you this and introduce you for a while. You know all those times I had to cancel on you because of other plans? Well, you see, Auntie thought Harry here needed some exposure to a witch his own age, and I've wanted to introduce you two for ages, you're my two best friends after all, but, well, we had to keep Harry's location a secret, and…"

"No. Way." Hannah gasped. Harry smirked behind his book (unlike Gramps, Harry's smirks were easily identifiable, although he had refined the art of sending silent messages with them long ago). He was wondering how long ignoring the advances of the rest of the car would last. "Harry… you don't mean…"

Harry could feel Susan nodding from where their shoulder's touched.

"Yes, I do. Harry Potter, meet my friend Hannah Abbott. Hannah, meet Harry."

Harry looked above the book to give a brief nod before returning to not-reading.

"Harry Potter!" the muggleborn burst out. "I've read all about you, you know. You're in at least two of my history books, let me find them…"

"I really don't think that's necessary Miss Granger." Susan scolded.

"But… I just wanted to show…"

"Yes, I understand. But he's rather shy, our Harry. And anyways, the only reason he's famous is because of how his mum died, and that's a bit insensitive."

Because the way you just mentioned it was so much better, Harry thought, but held his tongue.

"Oh… oh my… I'm so terribly sorry."

Harry glanced over the book to give another quick nod, hoping he didn't pink too much. This lighter skin tone was annoying, even if it was his natural one. Much easier for others to get a read on him.

Luckily, Longbottom and Abbott were shyer themselves, and Granger seemed to respect his reading time. The ride was uneventful, and once he relaxed, Harry even got some progress in the magical theory he was reading. Remus was technically no longer teaching him, now that he was at Hogwarts, but had given Harry a list of books to keep his theory sharp while he worked through spells he already understood. Amelia and Moody had, however, both hired Remus on as joint steward of the House of Potter and the House of Bones, which was just enough work to keep him busy outside full moons, and meant he collected the general Potter Steward's benefits, including medical care for all chronic conditions. It felt good to know his father's best friend (ignoring the traitor) was being cared for.

The only time Harry spoke up was on the subject of houses. Nevile was complaining that he'd let his Gran down by being a Hufflepuff.

"Is there something wrong with that?" Harry asked at those comments. Although not as boisterous as the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry in modern times, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor did have a long history of butting heads. Naturally, with Remus about all the time, Harry had heard this rivalry vocally monologed upon, from both perspectives. Harry was unsure which of those two houses he would prefer, as between his two primary male role models, he had a fair representation of the best of each. Both would jokingly get into debates or expound on the vileness of the other's house, but as neither knew whether Harry would take after his blood or adoptive relations in that matter, they both took pains to acknowledge their opponent house's positive qualities. Wouldn't do to spout prejudices that would eventually apply to their favorite little marauder, after all.

"Well, nothing, I think. Madam Bones is pretty cool, and I know Susan and Hannah both want to get in there, but my Gran wants me to be Gryffindor like my dad."

Harry mentally reviewed Neville's file. His Gran was Augusta Longbottom, who if Harry recalled, was on the list of women his Gramps avoided crossing for his own health. Although, unlike the other women Gramps was "not scared just prepared to face a worthy opponent of", Augusta was also Gramps' ex-girlfriend.

"Well, that's surprising, considering Augusta was, herself, a Hufflepuff." Nevile's jaw dropped at that. He didn't know? Interesting.

"R-really? I-I guess that makes a lot of sense. She just, um, really wants me to live up to my dad's legacy, and he was Gryffindor."

"Bullocks." Harry retorted, eliciting gasps from Abbott and Granger. Susan, who know his Gramps, was used to the language by now. "Parents don't want to have clones of themselves, they want children, reflections of themselves meshed with their partner. Children biologically and psychologically cannot be the same as their parents. You don't have to live up to a legacy, you are your father's legacy. The reflection and embodiment of his relationship with your mother. By letting someone turn you into something you aren't and don't want to be, you are failing a parent's most important wish by compromising your own happiness. Besides, it doesn't matter what house you end up in. It will never be on your resume or transcript, but your accomplishments, those will be. Let the Hat put you where you will grow the most, and as long as you do your best to remain true to yourself, you can't go wrong."

"That… was very wise, Harry." Granger replied.

Harry shrugged. "That's what I was told when I started worrying about disappointing people with my house." Quite literally. Uncle Remus liked big words. "I hope it helps, Longbottom."

"I… I'm not sure… I think… I'll have to think about this…"

They exited the train just after sundown, and the entire affair up through the sorting went just as Harry expected. Longbottom, Harry noted, ended up in Gryffindor, but he didn't look surprised. He just smiled and waved to his new housemates before running back to return the Hat he'd forgotten about, laughing all the while.

When Harry was called, a hush fell over the hall.

Sheep.

He was careful to keep his magic sense open for any attacks as he ascended the steps, as his back was a perfect target while he climbed.

As McGonagall lowered the Hat, Harry lowered his occlumency shields. He didn't want to, but there was little choice if he was going to attend Hogwarts.

"Now then, where… Oh my. How interesting."

Yes, yes, complex personal backstory, I know.

"Well, you might know, but this is all news to me. The details aren't really important, but where you go…"

Hufflepuff or Gryffindor please.

"Excuse me?"

I think one of those two, although I can't decide which. Which were you thinking?

"Well… Gryffindor and Slytherin…"

What, just because of the parcelmouth thing? No thanks. I'd kill the lot of them by the end of the week. And I'd hate to undo all that work you put into sorting the firsties…

"You know how horrid that would sound to someone not inside your head, right?"

Do you think they'll leave me alone if I end up in the snake den?

"Well, no, that is a good point… actually, I think your point has quite a bit of merit… alright, well if you won't have Slytherin, and while you have plenty of bravery, I think they could really use someone with a bit more of a spine in… HUFFLEPUFF!"

The room lost it.