The Wrong Sorting
by Teddylonglong

All recognizable characters, except for Ceridwen, belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story.
I am not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes.

Eleven-year-old Harry Potter anxiously eyed his uncle to assess his mood, before he asked, hesitantly, "Uncle Vernon, would you please take me to London in the morning? My train leaves from King's Cross at eleven o'clock."

Harry observed, horrified, how his uncle's face turned red in anger, before the man roared, "Why would I take you there to get to the freaks' school? Use your freakishness to get there, the earlier the better."

Harry returned to his room in devastation. 'How am I going to get to the station?' he mused over the rest of the evening - without any result. Eventually, he fell into a restless slumber, before he got up again in the morning, the question still standing in front of him like a huge mountain.

He hurried into the kitchen and made the best breakfast that the Dursleys could have wished for, however, not even the food made his uncle change his mind. Laughing aloud, Vernon drove away.

Harry returned into his room, pondering his situation. 'I could send Hedwig to Hagrid and ask him to fetch me,' he thought, however, he dismissed the idea immediately, not wanting anyone at Hogwarts to know just how much of a freak he was. Suddenly, a plan crossed his mind. 'Maybe I can just wish myself,' he thought, having already known for a few years that he was capable of wish magic.

Not considering that it was still only eight o'clock in the morning, he pulled his Hogwarts robes over, firmly gripped his luggage as well as Hedwig's cage, tried to make his right arm tingly, like he had done before, and wished himself to the Sorting at Hogwarts.

An instant later, the world around him began to turn, before everything became black. The movement seemed to last infinitely, and Harry suddenly felt very nauseous.

HP

When he was finally able to make out a scene in front of his eyes, he found himself sitting on the floor of a large hall, surrounded by other students. He quickly scrambled onto his feet and skimmed his surroundings. Together with several other students, he was standing in front of what seemed to be the teacher's table, while four large, empty tables seemed to be waiting for the students to take their seats.

A man with brown hair and a friendly smile rose from the head table and began to speak. "Dear students, welcome to Hogwarts and to our Sorting ceremony. I am the headmaster, and I suggest that we just let the Sorting begin."

One of his female colleagues, who had long black hair that she was wearing in a tight bun, introduced the students to Sopho, the Sorting Hat, before she began to call the students from her list to be sorted one by one.

'This must be the Great Hall,' Harry thought. He had not had much time to read his new books, but he had been able to get a glimpse at the book 'Hogwarts: A History', before Vernon had taken away his belongings. He observed how the Hat sorted the students into the four houses, wondering when it might be his turn. However, he was the last to remain standing in front of the high table, and when the student before him had been sorted into Hufflepuff, the teacher let her parchment sink.

"Excuse me," she addressed him. "You seem to not be on my list. Who are you?"

"Harry Potter," Harry almost whispered, whishing that he could just enter a mouse hole. 'Even here I'm a freak,' he thought, horrified.

The teacher turned to the head table, casting her colleagues a questioning look.

"Well, since Harry is here, I suggest that we sort him," the headmaster decided, giving Harry an encouraging nod.

Like in a trance, Harry walked up to the stool, on which the students used to sit to meet the Sorting Hat. An instant later, the Hat shouted into the Hall, "Slytherin."

Feeling very grateful that the Hat had sorted him like all the other students, Harry headed over to where he had understood the Slytherin table to be, and he was greeted enthusiastically by his housemates.

To Harry's surprise, mainly first-years along with very few older students were occupying the house table. However, before he could ask anyone where the older students were, the meal appeared on the table just by itself. Harry let his eyes wander over the table in surprise. Never before had he seen so much food at once, and everything just looked delicious. Unfortunately, he was not very hungry. Ever since he had wished himself to Hogwarts, his head hurt badly and he felt slightly dizzy.

As soon as everyone had finished eating, one of the teachers approached the table. He had black, silky hair and was wearing a very grumpy expression. "Potter, after I take you all to your common room, I need you to accompany me to the headmaster's office," he informed the boy, before he motioned the group to follow him.

Together with the other students, Harry followed the professor, who led them into what seemed to be the dungeons. 'Everyone seems very nice,' he thought, 'if I only didn't have such a headache.' Only when they entered the common room behind the teacher, a sudden thought crossed his mind. 'Where's Hagrid?' he wondered. 'He was not at dinner in the Great Hall.'

The professor showed the students their dormitories and instructed them to go to bed immediately, before he admonished them to be in the Great Hall on time for breakfast. "If you lose house points because of not being punctual, I'll use your limbs for potions ingredients." With that promise, he turned around to leave the common room, motioning Harry to accompany him.

Harry anxiously followed the professor through the empty halls, wondering why he was being singled out.

'That's clear. Because your name wasn't on the list,' a small voice spoke up from the back of his mind.

'But why was my name not on the list?' Harry replied, rubbing his forehead in a faint attempt to soothe his headache. 'I properly replied to my Hogwarts letter.'

"Go Sopho go," the professor gave the password to the gargoyle that seemed to be guarding the headmaster's office, and a short while later, Harry hesitantly followed his head of house into the office.

'What a pretty room,' he thought, eyeing the bright, round office in amazement.

"Good evening Mr. Potter," the headmaster greeted him in a friendly voice. "Please take a seat."

Harry let himself sink into the empty seat between the two female professors, who were gathered in the office together with the headmaster and his head of house.

"Mr. Potter," the headmaster began to speak again. "We're just a little surprised why you weren't on our list of students. Did you receive our Hogwarts letter, and have you replied to it?"

"Yes sir," Harry replied in confusion, only now realising that his luggage, which he had still with him when he arrived at the Great Hall, had mysteriously vanished in the meantime. 'Oh no, the letter is in my robe pocket,' he remembered.

However, before he could even pull out the parchment, the female professor to his left hand side asked, slightly reprimanding, "Don't you have proper school clothes, Mr. Potter?"

Pulling out the Hogwarts invitation letter, Harry cast the teacher a horrified look. "These are my school robes," he stammered. "Hagrid told me..." He slowly trailed off, noticing the unbelieving looks which he received from the adults.

The headmaster stared at Harry's Hogwarts invitation letter in disbelief, before he addressed Harry again. "Mr. Potter, please tell us how you came here."

Harry fidgeted in his seat. "I'm sorry, my uncle didn't want to take me to London, so I couldn't board the Hogwarts Express. I just wished me here with wish magic," he explained in a barely audible voice.

"Is he delirious?" the woman to his right side asked in apparent concern.

"No, I don't think so," the headmaster replied, smirking, before he asked, "Mr. Potter, when was your date of birth?"

"The thirty-first of July, 1980," Harry replied in a small voice, causing three of the four professor to let out a collective gasp.

"Congratulations my boy," the headmaster was the first to speak up again. "Instead of wishing yourself to the Sorting ceremony in the year... 1991?... you managed to wish yourself to the very first Sorting that took place at Hogwarts. For that you came exactly one thousand years into the past. Today is the first of September, 991."

Harry stared at the headmaster in shock. "I'm sorry," he blurted out, terrified. 'Uncle Vernon was right. I am a freak,' he thought, noticing uncomfortably that tears were welling in his eyes.

"There is nothing to be sorry about, dear," the lady on his right side told him in a soothing voice. Turning to the others, she added, "The question is when we can allow him to travel back. Let me do a quick check on him."

Harry almost backed up in fright when he suddenly found himself at wand point. The Founder waved her wand over him multiple times, muttering to herself as she proceeded. Finally, she turned back to her colleagues. "The child has completely depleted his magic, has a splitting headache and is running a temperature. I can't allow him to do magic for at least two weeks, and he mustn't use wish magic to travel through time for at least a month."

"Well Mr. Potter, it looks as if you were stuck here for a while," the headmaster spoke up, smirking. "Helga, will he allowed to attend classes?"

"If he feels well enough yes, but as I said no magic whatsoever," the lady, who had checked on him, replied in a stern voice. "I'm going to take him with me for the night in any case, and in the morning we'll see which classes he will be able to attend."

HP

When Harry woke up in the morning, a girl of about his age was sitting on the edge of his bed, observing him in apparent amusement.

"Congratulations," she said, pleasantly, causing Harry to cast her a questioning look. "For getting yourself into the hospital room on the first night at Hogwarts," she added, chuckling. "I'm Ceridwen by the way, Helga's sister. Helga told me to keep an eye on you, so you'll be stuck with me for a while. I suggest that you get dressed, and then we'll go to the Great Hall for breakfast."

"All right," Harry agreed in confusion, inwardly sighing in relief when the girl headed to the Healer's office to give him some space. 'Was she ridiculing me?' he wondered. However, the girl's smile had been so genuine and contagious that he just couldn't feel upset at her.

Ten minutes later, the girl led him to the Great Hall. "We won't be able to sit together, because you're in Slytherin and I'm in Hufflepuff," she whispered as they entered the hall. "However, we have all classes together."

Harry gave her an unobtrusive nod and took a seat at his house table, where his classmates immediately made a fuss over him and enquired why he had had to stay in the hospital room overnight.

"I'll later you later on in private," Harry whispered, resolving to tell his housemates the truth about himself. 'They'll notice that my language sounds different to theirs anyway,' he thought, feeling very grateful that Professor Ravenclaw had been so kind and transfigured his clothes to those of the past in the evening.

As soon as breakfast was over, Ceridwen resolutely pulled him with her to the Potions classroom, and all the other students followed them, glad that someone seemed to know the castle well enough to guide them.

After Professor Slytherin held a long monologue about magical and non magical potions ingredients, the first-years had to brew an easy healing potion, and Harry enjoyed himself greatly.

"I like brewing," he admitted to Ceridwen, when they walked to the Charms classroom two hours later.

"That's great," Ceridwen replied, smiling. "I don't know if you're aware that Salazar is my brother-in-law, but anyway, I'll speak to him after lunch. Maybe he'll allow you to assist in the Potions classroom in the afternoon, since you won't be able to attend Defence."

To Harry's great enthusiasm, his head of house agreed that Harry could come to the Potions classroom whenever he was unable to attend class, so that he could assist him with the brewing of the potions that his wife needed in the hospital room.

HP

During the following weeks, while Harry was not allowed to do magic, he spent much time assisting Salazar Slytherin. The Founder also introduced him to his basilisk familiar and made him help research a potion to give to the basilisk that ensured that no human at Hogwarts would be harmed looking into the animal's large, yellow eyes.

Harry enjoyed himself immensely. Classes were very interesting, his classmates were all extremely nice, Ceridwen became his best friend, and he became more and more attached to the Founders. They introduced him to the castle and taught him to communicate with her by placing his hand against her wall, and as soon as Harry was allowed to cast magic again, he assisted the Founders with unfinished building tasks.

HP

When the four weeks were over, which he had to remain in the past before he could wish himself back to the future, Harry spent a whole night skimming all his future school books along with Hogwarts: A History. 'Oh no,' he thought, after reading the last thirty pages. 'Do I really have to return to the future? I prefer to stay here.'

To his relief, no one said anything about the matter, and Harry just continued with his life as a first year in the very first Hogwarts year, feeling happier than he had been ever before in his life.

It was only a few days before Christmas, when all the other students were being picked up by their parents and only the Founders, Ceridwen and Harry remained standing in front of the castle, that the headmaster addressed Harry.

"Harry, what are you going to do?" he enquired. "Are you going to return to the future? Otherwise, we need to assign you a guardian, because students should not remain at Hogwarts during the holidays, only if they're the ward of a teacher."

Staring from the Founders to Ceridwen in shock, Harry replied in a small voice, "I'd like to remain here if that's possible, please."

"Yes stay here," Ceridwen added, pulling him in a bear's hug. "I'm sure my Mum will be willing to become your guardian."

"Harry, are you sure that no one will miss you in the future?" Rowena Ravenclaw spoke up in apparent concern, giving him a sharp look.

"I am certain, Professor," Harry replied in determination.

After a longer discussion, the four Founders decided that Godric and his wife Rowena should gain the guardianship over Harry Potter, as he was their many times great grandchild. They assigned the boy his own room at Hogwarts, right next to Ceridwen's.

"I'm so happy," Harry blurted out, tears leaking from his eyes. "Thank you so very much, everyone. I just love Hogwarts, and I'm so glad that she's my real home now."

Epilogue

On the evening after the Sorting ceremony in 1991, Albus Dumbledore gathered the five heads of the houses in his office. "We need to know what happened to Harry," he said in a grave voice.

"Hagrid said he had given him the train ticket and Harry had promised to come with the Hogwarts Express," Minerva McGonagall replied, concern written on her face.

"Leave it to Potter to attract all the attention," Severus Snape added, sneering.

The professors looked up in surprise, when Godric Gryffindor cleared his throat and began to speak from his portrait.

"Harry Potter died almost eight hundred years ago," he informed the teachers.

"Harry Potter is my many times great grandfather," Professor Hufflepuff, the Hufflepuff head of house agreed with the Founder. "He was the husband of Ceridwen, Helga Hufflepuff's sister."

"That's impossible," Dumbledore contradicted immediately.

"No," Godric Gryffindor insisted, smirking. "You must check out your self-updating copies of Hogwarts: A History. They should have been updated since this morning." Seeing five of the six people stare at him in disbelief, he added, grinning, "Who do you believe founded Merlin house, created all the shortcuts within Hogwarts and invented Quidditch as well as the magical animal zoo on the grounds? He was born in your time, but you neglected him so badly that his magic brought him to my time, where he became the fifth Founder of Hogwarts. Feel free to visit Ghost Harry as well as his portrait in Merlin house."

"Great Harry is our sweet, little Harry?" Professor Pomfrey, the Merlin head of house, blurted out in surprise, the portrait of an old wizard with emerald green eyes, grey hair and a gentle smile in front of her mind.

"The one who is said to have received the Order of Merlin six times?" McGonagall added, equally astonished.

"But the prophecy..." Dumbledore stammered, staring at the portrait in shock.

However, the Founder merely laughed, knowing that Harry Potter had lived a fulfilled, happy life at Hogwarts, surely better than if he had returned to the future.

The End

On multiple requests, I have begun to write a longer story based on this idea. The title is "Sorting to Hogwarts"

You can find my first own novel under "The Moon Whisperer" at Amazon.