And the second chapter arrives.
Read, review, and feel free to point out any errors/inconsistencies.
The next chapter will be published the coming Saturday.
Harry Potter: A Flaw in Fate
The Serpentine Stone
II. The Serpent's Sorting
"Give us a look, Lee, go on!"
"Gran, I've lost my toad again."
"- and behave, understood?"
A plethora of sounds met Harry's ears as he came to a stop, his hands still wrapped tightly around his trolley. Mothers and fathers said farewell to their children, brothers and sisters bickered loudly, and friends laughed happily as they ran around the station.
Harry opened his eyes, gazing curiously at the world that suddenly surrounded him. A sign overhead read 'Hogwarts' Express - Eleven O'clock'. Harry looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, the words 'Platform Nine and Three-Quarters' written upon it in fancy script. To his right sat a scarlet steam engine, steam wafting from its front.
Harry made his way through the crowd, slowly making his way onto the train. Despite having arrived early, Harry was far from the only person present; the first few compartments were already filled to the brim, packed with children who all seemed to know one another quite well.
I'll look for a compartment further back. Harry decided, I'll be able to look through Emily's notebook again.
Harry hastily lifted his trunk, tucked Hedwig's cage under his arm, and set off towards the back. It was far more difficult of a task than it sounded. His trunk, he noted, was rather heavy, and he was far from the only person trying to navigate the train.
"Blimey, Lee, what is that?"
Harry turned his head to the left. A boy with dreadlocks sat upon the floor of a crowded compartment, an opened box held within his arms. Many of the students shrieked as something from within poked out a long, hair leg. Harry turned away, his lips curving into a slight frown.
There's loads of spiders back in the cupboard.
He continued onward, barely managing to lift his trunk forward without tipping over.
" - father wanted me to go to Durmstrang." said a blonde boy Harry had encountered in Madam Malkin's to two large boys that sat opposite him, "But mother didn't like the idea of me being so far from home."
Harry scurried forward, not wanting to be seen by the boy once more.
A bit too much like Dudley, really.
Harry eventually reached the end of the train. He chanced a look through the glass of one of the final compartments.
Icy blue eyes gazed back at him, set perfectly upon a noble face framed by beautiful blonde hair that cascaded in waves down the girl's shoulders. She stared back at Harry, a cold expression set upon her face. Opposite her sat a rather unremarkable brunette who continued to tell the blonde girl about a trip to France with poorly suppressed excitement. The blonde girl slowly turned away from him, seemingly uninterested.
She seems friendly.
Harry let out a sigh of relief as he approached the final compartment of the train, one which was mercifully empty. He set Hedwig's cage down, opening it gently to allow the owl some room to stretch her wings. Once he was sure Hedwig was fine, Harry turned to his trunk, his eyes moving between it and the luggage rack above him.
Bollocks.
Harry quickly chanced a glance down the carriage before locking the door of his compartment shut. He carefully pulled out his wand, pointing it at the trunk that lay upon the seat before him.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry intoned quietly, moving his wand in an upward motion.
The trunk soared upwards, wobbling slightly. It hovered above the luggage rack before falling upon it.
Harry smiled.
-(xXx)-
"Anything from the trolley, dear?"
Harry tore his gaze from Emily's notebook, his eyes landing upon a smiling, dimpled woman. To her side stood a large silver cart, one filled with candies and chocolate unlike any Harry had ever seen. Harry quickly set the notebook aside and leapt to his feet, causing the woman to giggle.
Harry re-entered the compartment several moments later, his pockets significantly lighter and his hands filled to the brim.
"What do you reckon?" Harry asked Hedwig, holding up a rather colourful package, "Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. You think they really mean every flavour?"
Hedwig hooted in reply, ruffling her feathers. Harry shrugged, popping a bean into his mouth. He spit it out a second later, his hands wrapped tightly around his neck.
Every flavour. They definitely mean every flavour.
Many of the other sweets, thankfully, were far more tasty than the beans. Harry was particularly fond of the Pumpkin Pasties, which were rather sweet, and the Chocolate Frogs, which bounced merrily in his stomach for many minutes after he had eaten them.
The Chocolate Frog Cards - collectible cards, one of which came with each frog - were interesting as well. Harry picked up the one nearest him, watching as a man with half-moon glasses, a long, crooked nose, and a flowing silver beard watched him curiously. He flipped it over, his eyes scanning the words printed neatly upon the back.
'Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.'
Harry set the card aside, his eyes falling upon the several others that sat beside him. All of them gazed back at him, watching him with just as much curiosity as Dumbledore had moments ago. Harry smiled softly, picking them up and standing on his tiptoes before neatly placing them within his trunk.
I'll have to get used to the moving photos.
Harry peered out of the window. It was getting dark. He could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky, clouds covering it like paint on a canvas. The train seemed to be slowing down slightly, prompting Harry to check the time on Uncle Vernon's old watch.
Time to change, I suppose.
Harry slowly took off his jacket, swapping it for the long black robes he had purchased from Madam Malkin's. He was rather nervous; never before had he been in a situation like this.
A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."
Harry took a deep breath before quickly checking Hedwig's cage. He quickly crammed his pockets with the last of the sweets, ignoring the way his hand shook ever so slightly, and joined the crowd of people making their way down the corridor.
The train slowed down before finally coming to a stop. People pushed their way toward the door and out onto a tiny, dark platform. It was not unsimilar to its counterpart at King's Cross, although it was much more cozy - at least in appearance.
It looks like those little snowy villages you'd see in a snow globe, or maybe a postcard.
Harry shivered in the cold night air, thrusting his hands back into his pockets. He quietly made his way through the crowd, trying not to be knocked over by the older and much larger students.
"Firs' years!" roared a familiar voice from somewhere near the front of the station, "Firs' years over here!"
Harry scampered towards the group near the front, his eyes eventually landing upon the oversized form of Hagrid. In his hand he held a lamp the size of a trash bin, which he waved above the bobbing heads of the many students.
"That everyone? Right, follow me - mind yer step, it's all slippery!"
The group of nervous first years followed Hagrid down a steep, narrow path, their silence broken only by the occasional sound of someone stumbling across the snow. Harry didn't bother to look around much. It was far too dark for him to see anything on either side of him.
"C'mon, round this corner!" called Hagrid over his shoulder, "Yeh'll get yer firs' look at Hogwarts in just a sec!"
Harry carefully stepped over a rather large stone, turning his head to get a look at Hogwarts. His jaw dropped.
Situated upon a cliff was a beautiful castle, complete with several towers and turrets. The night sky twinkled with hundreds of stars, illuminating the magnificent lake that separated them from the castle.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry quickly stepped into one on the left, joining the boy whom he had overheard speaking to his grandmother about a toad, a boy with flaming red hair, and a girl with bushy brown locks.
"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself, "Right then - FORWARD!"
The fleet of wooden boats slowly glided across the lake. Harry's eyes wandered from the castle itself to the forest beside it, and then down to the stadium on the far right.
"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the boats approached a sort of stone archway at the base of the cliff. Harry lowered his head, barely ducking a curtain of ivy that hung from the ceiling.
The boats finally stopped in a sort of underground harbor, where they clambered out. Harry moved to the side as Hagrid inspected the boats once more, checking for anything anyone had left behind.
"Anyone forget a toad?" questioned Hagrid, pointing at the boat Harry had just left.
"Trever!" cried the boy from earlier, blushing slightly as everyone looked at him. He silently took the toad from Hagrid, carefully placing it in the front pocket of his robes. Hagrid waved his hand, pushing the group further into the castle.
"Everyone ready?" questioned Hagrid moments later as he stood before a large set of oak doors, "Right."
Hagrid knocked thrice upon the castle door. For a moment, nothing happened, and then, suddenly, the door swung open, revealing a tall, gray-haired witch in emerald-green robes, identical in colour to Harry's eyes. Her expression was stern, as was her stance.
"Good evenin', Professor McGonagall." said Hagrid, his head bowed respectfully.
"Good evening, Hagrid. I will take them from here."
She opened the doors further, revealing a stunning entrance hall grander even than the one at Gringotts. Torches lined the sides of the room, leading towards a magnificent marble staircase on one side and a large doorway on the other. Harry could hear hundreds of quiet voices to the right - the other students had already arrived, it seemed.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall, "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.
"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you."
Harry watched as she left the chamber, trying and failing to flatten his hair. Frantic whispers broke out the moment she left the room, most of their contents surrounding the Sorting Ceremony Professor McGonagall had just mentioned.
"How are they going to sort us?" whispered a timid girl with blonde pigtails, "It won't hurt, will it?"
"My brother said something about a troll."
"W-what?"
"Don't be daft, they wouldn't let a troll in!"
"Ooh, maybe we'll have to use magic!" whispered the bushy haired girl, "I hope we have to use charms, I've learnt all of those incantations by heart!"
"Well, I haven't." muttered a tall black boy.
" - forgive and forget, that's what I say, we ought to give him a second chance!"
Several students shrieked as nearly two dozen ghosts floated through the back wall. Harry glanced at the one who had spoken. He was rather plump, though the rest of his appearance was not unsimilar to a monk.
"You mean his eighty-seventh second chance?" questioned a ghost to the right. He was adorned in a ruff and tights, his hair rather long and curly in an unkempt manner. He paused slightly, his eyes falling upon the crowd of first years beneath him. A smile made its way onto his face.
"New students!" he said happily, clapping his hands.
"About to be sorted, are you?" asked the plump ghost, continuing when several students nodded fearfully, "I hope to see you in Hufflepuff! I'm the Friar -"
" - the Fat Friar." added a ghost covered in chains.
" - the Friar, Baron." said the Fat Friar, his nose held up in the air, "Or would you prefer to be called the Bloody Baron?"
"I don't give a damn what I'm called -"
"Enough." said a sharp voice from behind them, prompting the students to turn around, "The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin."
The ghosts waved cheerfully at the students before floating through the wall behind McGonagall.
"Form a line." announced Professor McGonagall, watching as the first year scurried into place, "Now, follow me."
The oak doors behind her slowly swung open, revealing a sight only matched by the view of the castle from earlier. Thousands of candles were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. Each of these tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets, all of which were accompanied by a student adorned in Hogwarts Robes.
At the front of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Directly before it sat a lone stool, a mangly old hat resting upon it. The first years paused as Professor McGonagall turned around, turning to the hat on the stool beside her.
Harry tried not to glimpse at the hundreds of faces staring their way. He instead tightened his fist, lifting his head up to gaze at the sky above them. It perfectly matched the sky above, the gleam of the moon casting an ethereal white light upon the ancient stone floor.
""It's bewitched to look like the sky outside." whispered the bushy haired girl, standing a few feet in front of him, "I read about it in 'Hogwarts: A History'."
"Look at the hat." whispered another girl, this time standing a few feet behind him, "You reckon we ought to pull a rabbit out of it?"
But when a rip near the brim of the hat opened, a rabbit did not appear.
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
if you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"
The entire hall burst into applause as the hat's brim shut once more. Harry sighed in relief, as did many of the other first years.
"I'm going to kill Fred!" whispered the redhead boy from the boat, "We don't have to fight a troll!"
"When I call your name," said Professor McGonagall from the front, a long roll of parchment held within her hands, "you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted."
She cleared her throat quickly before calling, "Abbot, Hannah!"
The timid blonde girl from earlier stumbled out of line, making her way fearfully towards the stool. She gently put the hat on her head and sat down, her fingers wrapped tightly around the edge of the stool. There was a moment's pause, and then -
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah got off the stool, shaking slightly. She made her way towards the Hufflepuff table, smiling at the Fat Friar, who waved merrily at her.
"Bones, Susan!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and the shy redheaded girl all but leapt off the stool, quickly making her way down to join Hannah.
"Boot, Terry!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them, patting him on the back.
Harry watched nervously as his peers were called up to the stool, his fingers sweating slightly from within the pocket of his robes. He was beginning to feel rather sick. What if the hat didn't sort him into a house? What if, maybe, the hat felt he wasn't good enough to be a wizard? Would he be back at the Dursleys by this time tomorrow?
"Granger, Hermione!"
The bushy haired girl almost ran to the stool, eagerly jamming the hat onto her head.
"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.
Hermione beamed as the table on the far left cheered loudly. She happily sat down at the end of the table, shaking hands with several of the older students.
"Greengrass, Daphne!"
The blonde girl Harry had seen on the train made her way towards the stool, gracefully placing that hat upon her head.
"SLYTHERIN!"
Daphne slowly stood from the stool before making her way down to the Slytherin table and sitting opposite the brunette girl she from earlier - Tracey Davis, if Harry remembered correctly. Harry watched them for a few moments, clapping along with the rest as Neville Longbottom joined the Gryffindors.
I wonder which house I'll be in.
Harry doubted it would be Hufflepuff; he could certainly use a few friends, but he doubted he had the skill set to actually make any. It would suffice to say that his previous interactions with people were all very limited.
The same could be said for Ravenclaw; he was certainly intelligent - at least enough so to be in the house of wit - but a quick glance at the Ravenclaw students told him that this would not be the case. While he saw the value of knowledge, he did not revere it - not in the way that they clearly did.
I revere magic.
It was, as far as Harry knew, the one thing that could not be gained by any other means - the only gift that could not be given. Wisdom, bravery, wit and cunning could all be formed over time, but magic could not.
It was something he had read within Emily's notebook - a spare thought that had seemingly been jotted down in the corner of one of the pages - but it made sense to Harry unlike anything else he had ever heard.
But what house has that?
"Malfoy, Draco!"
Harry watched as the blonde boy from Madam Malkin's swaggered forward, leisurely taking a seat upon the stool. The hat had barely touched his head before its brim opened.
"SLYTHERIN!"
Harry groaned quietly as Draco sauntered towards his friends Crabbe and Goyle, both of whom had already been sorted into the house of the cunning.
It's either Gryffindor or Slytherin, but I'm not sure which.
Harry was starting to hope it was the former. He was not particularly fond of Draco Malfoy - he reminded Harry a bit too much of Dudley for that to not be the case. Still, he doubted a he'd be sorted into a different house just because he wasn't fond of a single student.
"Patil, Parvati!"
Harry paled as a rather pretty Indian girl stepped forward, placing the hat gently upon her head.
We're already on 'P'?
A moment later, the girl had been sorted into Gryffindor. Harry stood deathly still as another girl was sorted into Hufflepuff, and then -
"Potter, Harry!"
Harry stepped forward, not at all oblivious to the whispers that suddenly spread through the hall.
"It's him!"
"The Harry Potter?"
"It is, look at his scar!"
Professor McGonagall sent Harry the smallest of smiles as he sat upon the stool, lowering the hat onto his head. Harry got a quick glance of students staring at him with poorly concealed fascination before the hat dropped over his eyes, entirely obscuring his vision.
"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear, causing his grip upon the stool to tighten, "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh yes - and a thirst to prove yourself . . . but where to put you?"
I don't know, but I suppose you do.
"Not Hufflepuff," said the hat quietly, "Not Ravenclaw, either . . . they would have loved to teach you, I'm sure, but neither are what you need - oh, but what is this?"
What's what?
"Interesting, very interesting. It's all here, in your head, you see. You could be great, and this shall help you on your way to greatness . . . there's only one true house for you - better be SLYTHERIN!"
Harry took off the hat to a silent hall. There was no clapping, no thunderous applause, no cheering or whistling - nothing but silence. All of the students stared back at him, their eyes equally as wide as his own.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
Harry turned around, his eyes falling upon a man seated within a large gold chair at the center of the High Table - Albus Dumbledore. Harry recognized him at once from the card he'd gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train.
The hall was now filled with a polite applause, many of the students and professors having followed Dumbledore's lead. The aged headmaster sent Harry a subtle wink, lifting the golden goblet ever so slightly.
Harry walked over to the Slytherin table, ignoring the expressions of shock, anger and disdain sent his way by several of his newest peers.
It's not new, after all. It doesn't matter, not really.
Harry took the open seat beside the blonde girl. She glanced at him, her expression a mixture of curiosity and disapproval. A moment later she turned away, her eyes returning to the Sorting Hat.
Harry sat in silence for the rest of the Sorting Ceremony. The seat to his left was shortly taken by a boy named Theodore Nott, who, at the very least, did not glare at him.
About five minutes later the final student ("Zabini, Blaise!") was sorted into Slytherin. Harry watched as Professor McGonagall plucked up the Sorting Hat and returned to the High Table. Albus Dumbledore gently rose from his seat, raising his arms.
"Welcome!" he said, beaming at the students, "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! There is a time for speeches, and that time is not now - but before we begin our banquet, I have a few words I would like to say: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
Dumbledore sat back down in his seat, waving his left hand.
"Let the feast begin!"
Applause filled the hall as the hundreds of empty golden plates suddenly filled with food. Harry, however, was still watching Dumbledore, who had entered into a conversation with Professor McGonagall and the rather short wizard to his right.
Is he mad?
Harry shook his head, turning back to the copious amounts of food before him. He piled a bit of everything onto his plate, and began to eat. It was, as expected, far better than anything he had ever eaten at number four, Privet Drive.
Before Harry knew it, he had cleared his plate. He sat quietly, occasionally looking around the table. It was blatantly clear that his classmates were not particularly fond of him, although he wasn't entirely sure why.
Voldemort, probably. Hagrid said most of her followers were in Slytherin.
Harry paused, his hand hovering a few inches above his plate.
I'm in the same house as the followers of someone I accidentally defeated.
Harry groaned silently, his head falling into his hands. He eventually glanced back at the golden plates, smiling slightly upon seeing that they had been filled with desserts of all kinds. He settled a generous slice of Treacle Tart onto his own plate - it was perhaps the best thing he had ever tasted.
Harry brought another bite of the tart to his mouth, chewing it as he turned towards the staff table. Most of them were still eating or chatting with one another. Hagrid continued drinking deeply from his goblet, and Professor McGonagall was still talking to Professor Dumbledore.
A few of them, like Harry, were observing the hall. A man with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin was watching the redheaded twins with a look of disdain, though his gaze occasionally flickered towards the Slytherin table.
Several seats to the left sat a beautiful young woman with long brown hair, smooth skin and sapphire eyes. She too gazed around the hall, though her eyes did not land on anyone in particular.
It happened very suddenly. The woman turned her head to the side, her eyes meeting Harry's — and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead.
"Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head.
Daphne Greengrass raised an eyebrow, though she said nothing.
Harry turned back to the woman. She was still watching him, but her eyes had narrowed, her expression far from amicable.
She definitely doesn't like me.
The woman turned back to her food, taking another bite from a Treacle Tart of her own.
Just as quickly as they came, the desserts vanished, leaving the hall filled with full stomachs. Dumbledore got to his feet once more, and the students quieted.
"Now that we are all watered, fed, and ready for bed, I have a few announcements I wish to share.
"First years, as always, should note that the Forbidden Forest was named so for a reason. Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has additionally asked me to remind a few of our older students of the fact."
Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Gryffindor table, falling upon two redheaded boys.
"This year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is also out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death. It will be opened once more come the next school year."
Harry chuckled softly, though he was one of the few who did. The other students all sat in silence, their eyes still on Dumbledore.
He's being serious.
Harry sobered up rather quickly after that.
"I have once more been asked by Mr. Filch to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors." Dumbledore continued.
"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. As always, those students who find themselves in their first year at Hogwarts will not be permitted to join.
"And, lastly, I wish to inform you all that there has been a change in staff." said Dumbledore, "As many of you already know, and as all of you now know, Professor Quirrell retired at the end of the previous school year, leaving the Defense Against the Dark Arts post open.
"We are pleased to introduce Professor Lilian Baker, who will be taking the aforementioned post."
Dumbledore merrily held out his left hand, motioning towards the blue eyed brunette. She gently raised a hand in thanks, a cold expression plastered upon her face.
"Bloody hell." whispered a boy a few feet away from Harry. He sat at the Ravenclaw table, the top of his robes adorned in blue and bronze, "She's . . . she's -"
"Fit." finished one of his friends. The boy nodded blankly.
"Quiet, both of you!" hissed a girl opposite them.
Harry shook his head, turning back to the staff table. Despite trying to catch her eye, Professor Baker did not look at him again.
I wonder why my scar hurt when I looked at her?
Harry decided to look into it later, whenever he got time to check out the library. There was almost guaranteed to be something about curse scars in there. It might have been easier to ask, but Harry doubted the Slytherins would be particularly eager to help him.
"It seems that time has slipped through our grasps once again, for it is time for bed. Off you trot!"
Harry rose from his seat, making his way towards the Slytherin prefects with the other first years (although behind the other first years seemed more accurate). Gemma Farley, the fifth year Slytherin Prefect, showed them to their dormitories. They each had a room to themselves, connected by a compact hall.
That was another good thing. The blonde boy, Draco Malfoy, seemed to have already decided he didn't like Harry much. Harry had already heard him mutter a few strange words his way, though he had no idea what they meant.
Ten minutes later, Harry sank into his bed, closed his eyes and fell asleep.
