16 The beginning

September 1st came swiftly, and with little warning. One day it was the middle of August, sitting by the lake beneath the tree, reading in the warmth and light till he became drowsy. Next, it was the first day of school, and the whole castle was being made ready.

Harry had been offered the option of riding the train as a first year, but he declined.

"What's the point? I'm just coming back here. Besides, I will ride it next year, so I really don't feel the need."

Dumbledore had tried to argue, but he was overruled by Aunt Petunia; this was starting to become a regular occurrence.

So Harry waited in the castle, watching for the train from the astronomy tower. A light rain had begun to shower the land and mist rose above the green hills. Harry felt very nostalgic.

'I wonder what actual eleven year olds are thinking,' he mused. It had been a long time since he was actually eleven, after all.

Harry and his Aunt had come up with a sort of character for him to play. Strange, outlandish, and particularly weird. Mix that with a dash of aloof cheerfulness and the 'character' of 'Famous Harry Potter' was easy to ignore, or write off. He was a harmless weirdo, or so they planned.

This was also rather easy for Harry to pull off. After all, not much of his real interactions were normal by any definition.

The ghosts actively avoided him, and the house elves seemed too terrified to directly serve him. In fact, both factions refused to be in his presence and seemed to always know when he was near. Between the two, Harry found Hogwarts difficult; especially when Mrs. Norris took a great liking to him and sought him out daily with chirping and delighted meows.

"This is a weird life," He complained to the empty clock tower.

"But I would like to think it has potential," voiced his Aunt, walking up the last few stairs and coming to stand beside him on the balcony.

The clock began to chime, a total of four bell tolls. A pillar of smoke rose above the mist on the horizon, and Harry knew it was the scarlet steam engine, the Hogwarts Express. It was almost time.

"I thought you had work today," Harry said conversationally, changing the subject.

Petunia looked out over the extensive grounds, the tiny wizarding city, and the rolling hills beyond.

"I did," she agreed. "But I asked for the day off, to be here for you."

Harry waited, heart pounding for an unnamed reason. Why was he so nervous? "And why is that?"

Petunia smiled, resting her slim arms on the railing of the balcony. The wind blew through her blonde hair, and the glow of the sun gave it an amber glow, sort of like strawberry blonde. Harry thought that Lily and Petunia might look a little alike.

"Because, the house you join is very important for your future," Petunia said gently, her voice kind when she wasn't screeching. "So I made the time to find out what future you chose."

Green eyes widened. "The house I... choose? How did you--?"

"Oh, please," Petunia huffed, raising her long, thin nose into the air. "There are many things that I know about. Besides," She added, a small grin tugging at her lips. "I doubt there is anything anyone could force you to do. You'll do as you like, as you always have."

Harry felt tears collecting in his eyes and wasn't entirely sure of the reason. Petunia seemed to understand, for she gathered him in her arms, rocking him soothingly and petting his hair. To Harry, this felt very much like the touch of every mother he had ever loved, and he clung tightly to his Aunt.

After several moments spent like this, Harry lifted his head, drying his eyes on his sleeve. Petunia's sniffled and dabbed her own eyes with a small white handkerchief.

"Whatever you choose, I stand behind you, Harry," Petunia sniffed. "I'll be waiting for you after the feast, in the empty Chamber of Reception near the Great Hall. Good luck, Harry."

Harry smiled, and watching the train pull into Hogsmeade Station over his Aunt's left shoulder, realized that this was an easy part.

"Yeah," he said softly, then with more confidence. "Yeah, I'll see you then."

* * *

Harry skipped down to the large oak doors that lead to the Entrance Hall. Portraits eyed him strangely but said nothing, somewhat used to his antics after a month. Humming his favorite song, Harry hopped onto the banister and rode it side-saddle down the stairs.

Not particularly good at stopping, Harry let his body fly through the air and then glide onto the floor, sliding across the smooth, polished stone, spinning out and skidding to a halt near Professor McGonagall's feet. Several portraits gasped and screamed at his arrival, and he tried to position himself to look nonchalant.

McGonagall's lips were pinched, and an eyebrow twitched as she stared down at his prone form. As the only other first year, it was part of her duty to direct him. Presently, all the upper years had already assembled in the Great Hall, along with the other teachers.

"Ready, Mister Potter?"

Harry beamed, giving her a quick salute and stumbling to his feet with a smile.

"As you command, Admiral McGonagall, sir!"

McGonagall sighed and turned away from the hooligan behind her, opening the doors just as a great booming knock sounded; Hagrid had brought the first years across the lake.

"I'll take them from here, Hagrid," she told him stiffly, stepping aside to allow the half-giant passage beyond.

Wet and dressed in stiff woolen cloaks over their robes and uniform, the first years shuffled inside hesitantly. Most were frightened, some were curious, others more excited. But all of them were cold, so inside they went.

"First years will come with me and try to make yourselves presentable," McGonagall instructed while walking quickly, the children following behind her like ducks. "In a few moments you will join the other students in the Great Hall, wherein you will be sorted. Once you have joined your house, the Headmaster will greet you and dinner will begin."

She turned bright and sharp eyes to the group of soggy eleven year olds, glance pausing over a few.

"I suggest you tidy up, now."

With that, she swept away, and Harry pondered the change in script. Was he the cause? He hadn't done anything unusual that he could think of.

"Hey," Called out a familiar voice, the vocal training and aristocratic accent giving it's owner away instantly. "Did you hear that Harry Potter--?"

But whatever the other had been about to say, it was disrupted by the return of McGonagall.

'That was fast,' Harry thought, inwardly glad to see her.

The Head of Gryffindor lead them before the long house segregated tables, to the front near the long Staff Table. At the front sat a stool and an old, work and patched hat.

The sorting hat began to sing, but Harry was entirely too distracted; he was searching for a pair of matching redheads. Finally spotting them near the rear of the Gryffindor table, he grinned widely.

Both twins were deep in discussion, waving a scrap piece of parchment between them; it was Harry's letter, sent from the school's owls and informing them of his arrival here. Neither twin had seen his polyjuice form, nor seen him since late July.

Names were being called at an alarmingly fast pace, and Harry was pleased to note that nothing was further devolving from the original timeline. Everyone was going to the house they always went to.

But soon, it was his turn.

"Potter, Harry!"

Slowly, with hands in pockets, Harry made his way to the stool. Several eyes sought him out, some of which he knew from the teleportation visits, some from various timelines.

The twins flashed him a grin and thumbs up as the sorting hat fell over his eyes.

(('What's this? Mister... Potter, is it?')) Came the internal voice of the sorting hat.

Harry began to hum, his usual song set to the tune of 'Mary had a Little Lamb'.

The hat began to scream, at first a soundless wail, then gradually rising in volume till it rang through the entire Great Hall. A wordless scream filled with terror and pain.

'Yeah, I get that a lot,' Harry thought to himself, looking calm and unsurprised at the reaction the hat had. 'Try not to delve too deeply, and mind if I make a suggestion?'

The hat showed no sign of hearing him, or answering. All of the Great Hall seemed frozen in confusion, unable to understand the situation, or what to do. Several teachers had stood, but seemed rooted to the spot.

Finally, Dumbledore came forward and lifted the sorting hat from Harry's head.

"What in Merlin's beard is going on here?!"

The hat, separated from Harry, quieted and drooped panting to the side, which looked strange to see with its ripped brim.

"Albus... I can't... oh, sweet Godric, I can't..." The sorting hat whispered.

Albus looked both frightened and furious. He shook the sorting hat and gestured towards Harry.

"Pick a House and do your job! Pick from what you saw, or I shall return you to the boy's head," Albus commanded, looking fierce.

The hat squealed and twisted about in the Headmaster's grip, the shadows that made up its face drawn in terror.

"Gryff-- no, I... Slyth--- oh, oh no! Uh... Huffle- ah... ah... AHHHHH!" the hat shrieked. "Ra... Ra... oh save me, save me!" It wailed.

Albus shook it again, and everyone in the Great Hall looked on in confusion and fear.

"Choose!"

The hat, struggling mightily, began to wheeze. "Not possible, not possible! It's not any, no definitely not any!"

Albus stared hard, blue eyes piercing as he shook the hat. "Are you saying that Harry Potter doesn't have the qualifications for any house? Hufflepuff herself vowed to take all---"

"No, no, anything but Hufflepuff! A Hiffle.. a-ah Huffle, the P-P-Puff!" the sorting hat quivered and moaned.

"What House is for him? Speak!"

Finally, with a whine, the sorting hat opened the brim of its mouth wide and screeched, "Hogwarts Ward! All houses!"

Hogwarts herself shook in response and a chatter broke out, the noise rising rapidly.

"Silence!" Boomed the Headmaster, somehow managing to put an end to the whole thing. "Harry Potter is an example of what each House represents. He was sorted into all of Hogwarts, and will spend a week in each House. To begin with," He surveyed the House tables over the top of his gold spectacles. "Harry Potter will start in Ravenclaw, then Slytherin, Gryffindor, and finally Hufflepuff. That is all."

He gestured for Harry to move to the Ravenclaw table.

"Congratulations, Hogwarts! Let the sorting continue," he instructed, passing the sorting hat back to McGonagall and returning to his seat at the staff table.

Harry sat at the far end of the Ravenclaw table, waving cheerfully and not looking the least bit upset. The twins mimed several intricate plays from across the Gryffindor table and Harry nodded, waving with energy.

The rest of the sorting passed with no further chaos, though Harry noticed several of the staff staring at him. Refusing to react or be upset, Harry began to hum.