A/N: So, I had this fascinating idea bloom in my head while reading Harry's New Home by Kbinnz, (that was a shoutout, the story may be more well read than anything I've currently written and not need the help, but it is truly hilarious once you get past the first few chapters [which are necessary] and is well worth a read) and I couldn't resist immediately doing all necessary research and planning before writing out the first chapter. At any rate, Harry's running late, so I should probably start writing before he misses the train! Shut up, that's totally how it works.

Harry was panicking. Hagrid hadn't told him how to get to platform 9 ¾ and thanks to a fit from Dudley about sitting in the car, first because he'd be next to Harry, then because of his tail, Harry only had five minutes to find it! What was he going to do? The Dursleys had left in a storm of laughter, leaving Harry with five minutes to find something that they didn't think existed. Harry was growing suspicious of Dudley's fit. It wasn't as if he'd had any problems sitting on the couch.

Just as Harry got desperate enough to take his wand out and begin tapping on bricks like the entrance to Diagon alley, he heard a voice startlingly close on his left side.

"What are you doing?" He jumped, looking to see a family of three, a young girl with bushy brown hair who was clearly the one who'd spoken, and a man and woman he assumed were he parents, from their similarities to her. Unfortunately, they looked completely normal, not like anyone he'd seen in Diagon Alley, so they were probably…what was it? Muggles, that was it, and Hagrid had mentioned that he wasn't supposed to do magic in the muggle world. That could only be because most of them were unaware of it, right? Yet here he was, waving a wand in public!

"I-er…" he began, not sure how to explain to a muggle that he was looking for a secret magical train he'd barely even heard of.

"Professor McGonagall must have told you not to use magic in public! You don't even need it to get onto the platform, what on Earth are you doing waving a wand about?" the girl exclaimed fiercely. Relief flooded Harry, obviously these weren't muggles, and they even knew how to get onto the platform!

"You know how to get to Platform 9 ¾?" He asked eagerly, "That's what I was trying to do, but no one told me how to find it!"

"No one told you how to…Goodness gracious!" the woman exclaimed, "How on earth did they expect you to find it? If Professor McGonagall hadn't shown us we'd never have had any idea it was there!"

"I don't know," Harry said, "Hagrid was the one who gave me my ticket, and he only mentioned that the train leaves at eleven o'clock…"

"Speaking of, we really ought to get moving," the man interjected, "The train leaves in less than five minutes!"

This got them all moving. The girl grabbed her trolley, which Harry hadn't noticed, and then, turning to her parents said, "I'll go first," before turning and, after looking around, ran straight at the wall, to Harry's great shock. Before he could shout a warning or stop her, however, she disappeared from view entirely. Harry blinked. He couldn't possibly have seen what he'd just seen, could he? She appeared to have run straight through a solid brick wall! Seeing his expression, the woman laughed.

"Oh dear, this magic stuff must be new to you to. It's incredible, isn't it?"

"It-she…" Harry stammered.

The man spoke up, "Yes, apparently the wall is charmed to let people who know about it through. I hear the trick is to take it at a bit of a run, if you're nervous. Now you'd best get over your surprise and get after her if you don't want to be late."

That got Harry's attention. He glanced at the clock. Only three minutes left. There was nothing else to do. Harry grabbed his trolley, pointed it at the wall, and was about to start running when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Wait, son. This is like crossing the road, you need to look both ways first," the man said, "Wouldn't want someone to notice you running through a wall, would you?"

Harry supposed he had a point. Checking back and forth for anyone looking his direction, he didn't see anyone.

"Now, as we're in a hurry, we'll be going with you dear," the woman said, gently grabbing Harry's arm. To be honest, he was glad for the mental support having someone else alongside him provided. Harry looked for the man, who was casting one last cursory glance around the station.

"Right, let's go then," the man said. Harry was left with little choice but to move forward as the two adults guided him forward, slowly but surely approaching the wall. Harry braced himself, but reassured by the knowledge that he had seen someone do this just seconds ago, managed not to close his eyes, and so he noticed that his trolley in front of him didn't hit the wall, and by the time he'd realized that, he had stepped through after it. The first thing he saw was a scarlet locomotive sitting on the tracks, and the second was the sign overhead which read Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock.

The third was an impatient young girl waving her parents onward, "Come on mum, dad, it's going to leave any minute!"

Harry heard a chuckle from the man beside him. "Darling, we were merely helping this young man. He could barely even believe what you did, and hurry or no, you shouldn't just take off like that!"

"I know dad, but come on! I'll be late!" the girl turned and hurried off through the crowd. Harry noticed that there were very few students still on the platform, and most of the parents were facing the train, waving if they saw their child through the window. He hurried after the girl, only catching up to her as she attempted to lift her trunk into an empty carriage at the end of the train.

"Here, let me help," he said, grabbing one end. She nodded, and together they managed to lift her trunk to the top of the stairs, with no small amount of difficulty.

"Sorry, I did bring quite a lot of books," she apologized, "I'm actually so late because I couldn't fit all of them into my trunk." As she finished speaking, a train whistle blasted from the front of the train. Her face suddenly more panicked, she said, "Here, let me help with your trunk, we don't have much time," but as they turned to pick his trunk, they saw the girl's father lifting it up the stairs.

"Figured you could use a hand, and time is short," he said, putting down the trunk at the top of the stairs. He turned, grabbed something, and with a quick, "Thank you, dear," placed Hedwig in her cage on the trunk. He then moved around Harry's suitcase and completely engulfed the girl in a hug, eliciting a muffled squeak.

"We're going to miss you, Hermione," the man said, his voice suddenly thick with emotion.

The woman, who had also walked around Harry's trunk, simply lay a hand on the girl's shoulder, waiting for the embrace to end. When it did, the woman embraced the girl, simply saying, "Do…do have fun Hermione. Don't get too wrapped up in schoolwork like you always do." The woman's voice was also breaking slightly with emotion, making Harry feel quite awkward and left out. He hurriedly busied himself dragging his trunk into the luggage compartment, catching some declarations of love and promises to write regularly as he did so. He didn't begin to cry, he had far too much practice holding back tears. Instead he felt envy and longing.

The train gave a lurch into motion as Harry pushed his trunk into an adequate position in the luggage compartment, and when he exited it, he saw only the girl standing there, facing him. Her face was slightly red.

"Sorry about that," she said awkwardly, "parents can be…well you know…"

"I'm sure they can," he said, not really managing to hide his bitterness. The girl looked at him, shocked. The silence stretched out.

"Do you mean…?" she began in a small voice, before trailing off again.

The awkward silence stretched once more. "I…oh forget it." Looking around, he saw her trunk sitting beside her, and hastening to change the subject, offered his help stowing it. After doing so, and leaving Hedwig a few owl treats, they went in search of a compartment. Everywhere seemed quite full by this point, so when they found a compartment with only a small, round-faced boy in it, Hermione hesitantly opened the door.

"Is it alright if we sit in here?" she asked, "Everywhere else seems full." The boy looked up, apparently quite startled, but nonetheless nodded, watching as Harry and Hermione came in and sat down.

"Well, my name is Hermione Granger. It's nice to meet you. And what are your names?"

Seeing the other boy looking still quite shocked, Harry spoke up first. "My name is Harry Potter." The reaction was immediate. The other boy muttered something, now looking even more shocked.

Hermione, on the other hand, burst out, "Really? You're that guy? The one in Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century?" Harry was quite overwhelmed. Hagrid had told him he was famous, but he was this famous? Harry wasn't sure what to say.

"Y-yeah," the other boy spoke for the first time, "I thought I recognized you, Harry. My name's Longbottom, by the way. Neville Longbottom."

"Nice to meet you," Harry managed, still getting over being in three history books.

"But then where were your guardians?" Hermione asked, clearly confused, "I mean, you're a huge celebrity in the wizarding world! Those books almost talked about you like you were the second coming of Christ, but you were left at the train station, alone?"

Harry really didn't want to talk about the Dursleys.

"Well, where Harry Potter is staying, and who looks after him is one of the bigger mysteries of our time," Neville said, "Apparently Dumbledore put him somewhere safe, and refused to say much more than that. Probably best that way, actually, since…" and then Neville trailed off, looking quite uncertain.

"But that doesn't explain where your guardians were on the platform," Hermione pressed on, "whoever they are; they can't possibly have had a reason to leave you alone on the muggle side of the barrier with no idea how to get through, could they?"

"Wait, you didn't know how to get through the barrier?" Neville was clearly very shocked to hear this.

"No," said Harry quietly, "I didn't. Hagrid didn't think to tell me, he probably forgot."

"Hagrid's been looking after you this whole time? I thought he was just a groundskeeper!" Neville exclaimed.

"No, he was just the one who showed me around Diagon Alley and helped me find my school things," Harry said, "I live with the Dursleys." He spat the last word out.

Harry saw comprehension dawn on Hermione. "And they…they're muggles, aren't they?" Harry nodded. "But…they…they aren't very nice, are they?" Apparently the look on Harry's face was confirmation enough.

Hermione still looked a bit confused. "So…Dumbledore left you with a random family of muggles? Why? Especially if they…aren't nice." Hermione was clearly using being euphemistic.

"Well, they are my only remaining family, at least as far as I know…" Harry began to wonder the same thing himself. Why had he been left with his awful relatives? He was probably famous enough that people would line up to adopt him, and he was hardly famous for a bad reason.

Neville, apparently had an idea, "Well, I think I may have heard something once about how it was a shame you had no relatives, because of some ward or something that could keep you safe if you stayed with family. Maybe, since you do have family Dumbledore used that ward to keep you safe?"

"And it would make sense to put you with muggles, as well, because the wizarding world is so separate from muggles that they didn't even know you had family there!" Hermione exclaimed, looking extremely satisfied with herself. Then her face fell. "But is that really worth it if it means putting you with the kind of people who wouldn't even see you to the train? People who…who wouldn't…" Hermione trailed off, probably thinking of Harry's clear bitterness at her presumption of his knowledge about loving parents.

Neville suddenly looked quite awkward, and Hermione didn't seem to want to press the issue. This was perfectly fine with Harry, and he found himself looking out the window at the passing scenery. Eventually, Hermione got out a book and began reading. They continued to sit in silence until just after 12:45, when there was a clattering in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman opened the door.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" she asked. Harry, who hadn't had any breakfast, jumped at the opportunity, ready to take advantage of his newly discovered money to buy as many Mars Bars as the trolley carried. Only slightly deterred by the lack of mars bars, Harry nonetheless bought some of each of the increasingly unusual sweets the trolley did have. When he was done, Neville purchased a cockroach cluster, a licorice wand, and a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Hermione, looking a bit hesitant, asked Neville if he had any recommendations.

"Well, licorice wands are probably my favorite, but if you want chocolate you should probably go with the frogs," here Neville indicated the chocolate frogs, "and I've always enjoyed a bit of adventure from Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, they really do mean every flavor."

Looking a bit skeptical, Hermione nonetheless bought three chocolate frogs and a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. As they sat back down, she looked disapprovingly at Harry.

"Your teeth will rot if you eat so much candy," she stated with absolute certainty.

Harry hadn't thought of it that way, he just hadn't wanted to miss out on anything.

"Rot? Ridiculous!" Neville exclaimed, "Teeth don't rot!"

Hermione turned her disapproving glare to him, "It may not be rotting as such, but cavities are no joke! My parents are dentists, I know all about them!"

Now Neville just looked confused, "What's a cavidy?" he asked.

Hermione's glare ramped down a few notches into uncertainty. "It's when your teeth turn brown because you've had too much sugar and not brushed your teeth. Surely even wizards have heard of them?"

"Muggles use brushes on their teeth?" Neville looked puzzled by the mere thought of such a practice.

"Well of course they do," Harry interjected, "How else would you keep them clean?"

"Well, my gran just casts this charm every so often…"

Hermione looked at him as though he'd turned blue, grown another head, and then revealed that cats were really dogs.

"You mean…wizards don't get cavities?"

"I guess not," Harry interjected, "It would make sense that with magic, a few things like that get much easier to fix."

Hermione looked as though her whole world had been turned on its head. And, Harry supposed, when a dentist's child discovered that dentists were completely irrelevant, that was exactly what happened.

Leaving such heady matters to Hermione, Harry looked over the candy he had bought. "Well Neville, you probably know this stuff better than I do, do you have any suggestions where I start?"

"Hmm?" Neville had already started on his licorice wand. Swallowing, he said, "Well cockroach clusters are universally agreed to be fairly revolting, so maybe you should start there, just so you still have plenty of things to wash the taste down. I only got some myself because Trevor here likes them." He reached into his robes and pulled out a large toad.

"Oh my!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Oh, sorry," Neville apologized, putting Trevor down on the seat next to him, on the opposite side that Hermione was sitting. He then tore open a bag of cockroach clusters and dumped them on the seat. Trevor dug in with clear fervor.

Hermione took a bite out of one of her chocolate frogs as he did this. "Well," she said after swallowing, "it's more the size of him that surprised me. I didn't think toads got that big."

"Oh, I don't know about mundane frogs," Neville said, "but Trevor is definitely a bit magical. I forget how, exactly, because it wasn't terribly interesting, but it could just be that he's bigger for all I know."

As they chatted, Harry picked up the bag of cockroach clusters. They really did look revolting. Deciding to save them for later, perhaps never, Harry put them in a pocket and got out something called a pumpkin pasty. It tasted a bit like the bit of pumpkin pie he'd managed to sneak a few years back, although perhaps a bit less sweet and more bread-y.

For a few minutes, there was no sound but silence and chewing, until Neville finished his licorice wand, got up, and said, "I've gotta to hit the toilet."

Nodding, Harry moved on to a chocolate frog. It was so lifelike that he was almost surprised when it didn't jump out of the package, but he supposed that animating candy to run away from you would be a bit rude. As he bit the head off, he saw a card with a picture of a clever-looking wizard with black hair, dark eyes, a pointed beard and thin eyebrows. Underneath the picture was his name, Phineas Nigellus Black. Harry turned the card over and read the short description.

Phineas Nigellus Black (1847-1925)

Previous Headmaster of Hogwarts

Phineas Black was one of few Slytherin headmasters of Hogwarts.

Quite a clever man, Phineas was the instigator of many policies at

Hogwarts that remain to this day, banning student access to the now-

Forbidden Forest, refusing help from the ministry to establish an

independence of education, and negotiating the peace treaty that

still holds the centaurs in check.

"There's trivia cards in these!" He exclaimed in surprise.

Hermione looked up from her own card. She had started on a second frog and was reading that card. "Oh, yes. Who did you get? I've got Cornelius Agrippa and Albus Dumbledore so far."

"I got some bloke named…Phineas Nigellus Black," Harry said, needing to check the wizard's name. It really was a mouthful. "Apparently he used to be headmaster."

"Ooh, can I have a look?" she asked. Harry handed the card over. "Here, you can look at mine. Dumbledore's pretty interesting, if you ask me." She handed over two cards. The top one was Cornelius Agrippa, apparently some wizard who was imprisoned by muggles for his writings. His card didn't have much on it. Dumbledore's on the other hand nearly called him the greatest wizard of modern times, mentioning the defeat of some dark lord, some intellectual sounding achievements involving dragon's blood and alchemy, and still found room to mention his personal taste in music and recreation. Perhaps more recent wizards were easier to find information about. Phineas Black had plenty of information like Dumbledore, but Agrippa, who was from centuries ago, only had a single sentence.

"Ooh, I read a bit about Phineas in Hogwarts, a History, but I didn't know he'd done all those things, and I didn't notice that being a Slytherin headmaster was so rare!" Hermione sounded quite enthused to have discovered something new.

"If what Hagrid said about Slytherin is true, I wouldn't be surprised that he's one of the only ones that turned out good enough to become headmaster," Harry said, "Slytherin is apparently the only house that dark wizards come from." He was secretly worried he'd end up in Slytherin, to be honest. He'd defeated the worst dark lord out there, from what Hagrid had said, so he had every possibility to turn out worse.

"Oh that's just silly!" Hermione exclaimed, "It's statistically impossible that dark wizards only come from Slytherin, they can't be too much more than a quarter of the population. The defining traits of a Slytherin are cleverness, ingenuity, and ambition; it says so in Hogwarts, a History. None of those make people evil!"

"Well I'll say!" a voice exclaimed from Hermione's lap, "My house may get a bad reputation, but this young lady knows her stuff!" Hermione looked at the chocolate frog card in surprise.

"You can talk!"

"Well of course I can young lady, do I look like a mute? At any rate, you are quite right about my house, nothing makes a Slytherin inherently evil, and plenty outside of it have strayed to dark magic. Why, just ten years ago there was a great hoo-hah about some Gryffindor who'd betrayed his friends to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named! Lumping Slytherin with evil is a sure way to be mistaken."

Harry, who was too shocked by the words to pay attention to what was saying them, spoke up, "So why would someone lump Slytherin with evil then? And for that matter, why are there so few Slytherin headmasters?"

"Oh, my boy, plenty of people seem to think that cunning and ambition lead one to horrid acts and the absence of morality, but none ever seem to realize that the world simply doesn't work in absolutes like that."

The man suddenly tilted his head as if listening to something. "Oh dear, that sounds interesting. I must go!" The dark haired man in the picture that Hermione was now holding up in amazement turned and simply walked into the edge of the picture, disappearing. A stunned silence followed.

Hermione was the first to speak. "So…let me get this straight. Pictures can talk in the wizarding world? Pictures can talk! And hold a meaningful conversation!"

"Apparently so," Harry replied, still more surprised by what the picture had said than the fact that it could talk. Slytherin wasn't a place for evil wizards and gits like that one from the robe shop? It even sounded like he might fit in there fairly well. He certainly had ambition after finally emerging from the Dursleys, and Dudley's shadow. And while he didn't know about cleverness so much, he'd usually been able to outthink Dudley's gang. But why did Hagrid seem so convinced that Slytherin was a horrible house?

His train of thought was interrupted when Neville burst back into the compartment, shouting, "Trevor!" He went over to the seat where Trevor had been munching on the cockroach clusters, but Trevor wasn't there anymore. "No, no, no! I can't have lost him again already. Where is he? Trevor!" Apparently Trevor had the tendency to wander off.

"Calm down Neville," Hermione said, "when did you last see him for sure?"

Neville did not calm down. "It was before I left for the bathroom, and now I have no idea where he went, he could be anywhere!" The round-faced boy began checking underneath the seats. He didn't stop talking, though his voice was slightly muffled from the cushioning on and under the seats. "He could have followed me out the door, and now he could be anywhere on the train! He might even have jumped off! Why does this always happen?"

Hermione stood up, hauling Neville by the back of his shirt (this required both arms and quite a bit of effort on her part) as she did so. She then turned him around until he was facing her and placer her hands on his shoulders.

"Neville! Calm down!" she shouted, "We probably would have noticed Trevor leaving, so we should check around here thoroughly before we look anywhere else. Even if he is wandering the train, no frog or toad is stupid enough to crawl out a window and jump off or something, so we can find him! Someone must have seen something."

Neville looked quite shocked, but did calm down a bit.

"Right, now let's get the basics out of the way." Hermione pulled out her wand and said something like, "Loomose," before getting down and checking under the seats like Neville had, though her wand tip now had a light on it, which helped illuminate the space under the seats.

"Okay," said Hermione as she stood back up, "He's definitely not under there." She looked up at the overhead luggage racks for smaller baggage. "Do you think he could jump high enough to get up there?"

Neville followed her gaze. "I wouldn't be surprised. We usually find him in the craziest places."

"Alright then, let's check up there." Hermione looked thoughtfully up at the racks, which weren't really placed in easy reach of an eleven year old.

"Here, let me check, I'm pretty good at climbing," Harry said, getting up. He then stood on the seat and grabbed the edge of the rack, pulling himself up with his arms and a bit of a boost from his feet. Once he got his chin hooked over the edge, he called down, "Hey, could you hold that light up here?"

Hermione climbed onto the seat next to him and held the wand above the rack. Even with the light, Harry didn't see any toads. Dropping back down, he said, "Not there. Let's try the other side."

After checking there, and still not finding Trevor, Neville was clearly ready to start panicking again, but Hermione stopped him short. "You stay with Harry and check around this carriage, I'll see if anyone has seen a toad in the next one over. He probably hasn't gotten very far, so you and Harry should have the best chance of finding him, which is good, since there are two of you and you know the most about him, Neville."

Hermione did come off as a bit bossy, but she was also quite smart. Having no objections, the three split as she'd said and began their search. Harry and Neville, keeping their eyes peeled for Trevor, walked down the corridor toward the end of the train. There was no way out of the back, since they were in the very last car. There was simply the baggage compartment and a locked door. Starting their search in the baggage compartment, Neville and Harry searched high and low. Hedwig was sleeping in her cage, her head under her wing as always, but there wasn't any sign of a toad. Then Harry heard a small rustle behind one of the smaller suitcases.

"Neville, did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"That rustle. Be quiet and listen for another one." Harry saw a slightly doubtful look on Neville's face, but the boy nonetheless stopped moving to listen. The silence stretched out, until—

"There!" Harry exclaimed, pointing at the suitcase he heard the sound from. That was twice now. He quickly walked over and pulled the suitcase off the rack. Nothing was there. Still determined, Harry shifted the cases around that space, calling Trevor's name softly. But to no avail. Whatever the rustling had been, it was gone now.

"I swear, something was moving here," Harry said.

"Yeah, but maybe we should leave it alone," Neville said nervously, "You never know what it was that was moving."

Harry supposed that was a valid point in a world where even things like solid walls weren't always what they seemed. After one last once-over of the baggage compartment, Harry put back the suitcase and made for the exit with Neville. Just as he passed the final luggage rack, however, Harry was attacked. He felt a sudden weight hit his hip hard enough that he stumbled, followed by a squirming that made him shriek in a very embarrassing manner that he instantly regretted, mostly because when he looked down, he saw the rear half of a rather familiar toad sticking out of his pocket.

"What is it Harry?" Neville demanded, looking very tense.

"Well, it appears that he was looking for us, too," Harry said as he grabbed Trevor and gently extracted him from the pocket. Clamped determinedly in the toad's mouth was the bag of cockroach clusters that Harry had decided against eating earlier. "Or perhaps he was still a bit peckish after the candy from earlier…"

"Trevor!" Neville exclaimed, joyously snatching him from Harry, and managing to dislodge the bag of candy from the toad's mouth. Harry bent down and picked it up.

"You know, you probably have more use for these than I do, I only bought them because I had no idea what they were," he said, offering the bag to the other boy, "And you should probably keep some of these around in case you lose him again."

"Thanks Harry!" Neville said as he shuffled Trevor into one hand and took candy in the other. Harry felt a warmth of happiness spread through his chest. He'd never had anything to share before, and certainly never been thanked for something in his memory. He found he quite liked the sensation.

As they headed back to their compartment, they saw Hermione coming back into their car. Neville held Trevor up triumphantly, and Hermione, looking relieved, joined them back in their compartment.

"Thank goodness you found him," Hermione said, "I was asking around, and I'd just gotten through talking to a rather rude boy who was attempting some odd spell on his pet rat when I decided to see how you were faring. So where was he?"

"He'd wandered off to the baggage compartment," Neville explained, "and apparently he was a bit puckish, because he went after these in Harry's pocket," he held up the cockroach clusters, "We didn't even really find him, he sort of jumped on Harry to get at the cockroach clusters."

"He was still hungry after eating a whole bag of the things?" Hermione questioned. The bags were about as big as Harry's hand, and rather full.

"Well, he may not have eaten anything this morning, I didn't check before we left. And he always does have a big appetite."

"Hmmm, well he must be magical in some way if he can eat that much and still have room for more, no mundane that size could eat that much." Trevor's body, not counting his extensive rear legs, was around the size of a bag of cockroach clusters.

As he listened, Harry began munching on a licorice wand. It wasn't so different from what little he knew of muggle licorice, though it did have a sort of…sweet kick he couldn't really identify that he was certain the muggle candy didn't have. Hermione and Neville discussed Trevor's diet for a few more minutes, before falling silent. Harry moved on to a cauldron cake. The one he chose was apparently peppermint flavored, despite a lack of label. Were they all filled with a peppermint flavored "potion?" How odd.

At this point Harry noticed Neville eyeing his licorice wands, and Hermione finishing off her last frog as she read her book again. Remembering how nice sharing had felt, he decided to offer them some of his incredibly large collection. Neville happily took two more licorice wands while Hermione looked at him for a very long time before taking one single chocolate frog. Harry though he heard he mutter something about it being better to binge than savor. He wondered just how strictly the daughter of dentists had been raised. If four chocolate frogs constituted a 'binge,' it had probably been pretty strict, even if her parents did clearly love her.

The rest of the journey passed relatively uneventfully, though Hermione did go wandering around at one point, and when she returned said she'd confirmed with the conductor that they were almost there, and should get changed into their school robes. Then she left for the bathroom as Neville and Harry changed into their school robes. She returned shortly, a few minutes before a voice informed them that they would arrive at Hogwarts in five minutes, and should leave their luggage on the train to be brought up separately.

When they arrived at the station, it was a crush of bodies and confusion as they tried to make their way out to the dark, cold station. Then Harry spotted a lamp bobbing over the heads of the students and heard a familiar voice.

"Firs' years! Firs' years this way! Alright there Harry?" Hagrid was there to lead the first years. Harry was quietly relieved.

"Come on, follow me—any more firs' years? Mind yer step now, follow me!"

Staggering and stumbling, the group of first years managed to follow the big man down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. Harry thought he heard a crunching from Neville's pocket, and figured that Trevor was being bribed with cockroach clusters to stay put for once.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "Jus' around this bend here.

There was a loud "Oooooh!" A castle came into view atop a mountain and across a dark lake, windows and lights sparkling in marvelous glory. It was quite a vast structure, with many turrets and towers. Harry was impressed. He'd been picturing something more like a typical muggle school, though he wasn't really sure why, after having seen Diagon Alley.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, and Harry quickly found Hermione and Neville as he headed for a boat. By unspoken agreement, the three boarded the same boat. Everyone else seemed to be in groups of at least two, and no one else joined their boat.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a whole boat to himself. "Right then—FORWARD!"

And the little fleet of boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was smooth as glass. Hogwarts towered over them more and more the closer they got, inspiring silent awe from everyone.

"Heads down!" Hagrid called as they approached the cliff face. They all bent their heads as the boats took them through a mossy curtain and into a cave that must have led underneath the castle to an underground harbor of sorts. As they disembarked, Hagrid checked the boats before leading them up a passage to a set of great oaken doors. Checking one last time that they were all together, Hagrid turned and knocked three times on the large doors.

The door swung open at once. There was a tall, black haired witch in emerald robes waiting for them with a stern look on her face. Harry's first thought was that she was not someone to cross.

"The firs' years, professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you Hagrid, I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide and led them across an entrance hall so big the whole Dursley's house would have fit inside. A great staircase facing them led to upper floors. Harry could hear hundreds of voices from a doorway nearby; the rest of the school must have already arrived. They were led to a small empty chamber off the hall, however crowding into the small space nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. The start-of-tern 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."

Her eyes traveled over the students, focusing on details like Neville's off-kilter cloak and belching pocket, Harry's forever unruly hair, and other minor wardrobe malfunctions. Harry tried desperately to flatten his hair.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall, "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber. Harry swallowed.

"How exactly do they sort us into the houses?" Harry asked Neville as the boy hastily straightened his cloak and patted at his pocket lightly to quiet Trevor.

"I don't know, exactly. I think my gran mentioned something about a longstanding tradition, but I…I wasn't really paying attention." Neville was buzzing slightly with nervousness, scratching here and straightening clothing there. Harry turned to Hermione only to find that she was whispering very quickly about spells she had learned and might possibly need. Harry listened for long enough to realize that now was too late to try to study and learn. What if he had to perform anyway? He'd managed some impressive things in his childhood, but he'd never actually been in control of those, and the closest he come to magic was the sparks from his wand. What if he was judged poorly based on his lack of knowledge, and had to go back to the Dursleys? Harry hadn't been away long, but he was starting to realize just how far he could get when he emerged from their shadow and he didn't want to go back. He wanted to stay at Hogwarts and keep sharing his candy with Hermione and Neville, and maybe even learn a thing or two from Hermione, because she seemed like the type who knew everything.

And then, as if to add to everyone's terror, (Harry was far from alone in his fear, if everyone else's faces were anything to go by) several…ghosts emerged from a wall, mid-conversation.

"What the—?"

Harry gasped and jumped about a foot in the air, and several people around him did the same. Around twenty ghosts had just streamed into the room. And they didn't appear to have noticed the first years yet.

"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance—"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost—I say, what are you all doing here?" A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had just noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the smiling friar, who was very fat. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the front wall.

"Now form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line behind Neville and in front of Hermione, whose muttering had ceased instantly when Professor McGonagall had returned. So ordered, they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Harry had never imagined such a strange and splendid place. Candles floated everywhere, lighting the hall thoroughly. There were four main tables laden with glittering plates and goblets where all of the students sat, and perpendicular to those at the front of the room was a table for staff members. This was where Professor McGonagall led the first years, so that they ended up standing in a line in front of the staff table, looking out at the rest of the school. Mostly to avoid meeting the sea of eyes now staring his way, Harry looked up to see the ceiling was velvety black and dotted with stars, nearly indistinguishable from the real night sky. It was almost as though the hall was open to the stars. Beside him, Hermione whispered, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, a History." It seemed that Hermione had read a great many things in that book. Perhaps it was worth a look.

Harry noticed Professor McGonagall place a stool in front of the first years, on top of which she placed a pointed wizard's hat. The hat was patched, frayed, and dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn't have let it in the house.

Maybe we have to pull a rabbit out of it, Harry thought wildly, fears of a test returning. Looking around, all he saw were people staring at the hat, so he stared at it too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth—and the hat began to sing:

"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 sap 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 whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables, before once again going still.

Harry briefly reflected that trying on the hat was better than having to do a spell, but he really wasn't feeling to brave, or smart, or cunning right now. If only the hat had mentioned a house for the slightly queasy, he'd fit right in. Harry heard Hermione muttering something next to him again, and missed what McGonagall said as he caught hints of words like "bravery" and "intelligence" and "oh dear" from that general direction. The thrust of Professor McGonagall's instruction was clear, however, first one, then two girls came up at the sound of their name to be sorted into Hufflepuff. After that everything was a blur of worry, between whatever Hermione was whispering about next to him and his sudden recollection of Hufflepuff's reputation. Apparently according to that rude boy at least Hufflepuff wasn't all that great. A house for the queasy if there ever was one.

Harry barely caught the call of "Granger, Hermoine!" but he did notice when the muttering to his left trailed off toward the stool. Watching with baited breath himself, Harry wasn't sure how to react when he heard the hat's decision.

"Gryffindor!"

He wasn't so stunned that he forgot to clap, though he was sure in at least some part of his brain that something about that struck him as odd. The hat had taken longer to reach the decision about Hermione that many of the others. Did that mean something? She wasn't the only one who had taken a long time to sort, but something about Hermione's sorting just…stuck with Harry. Niggling there.

"Longbottom, Neville!"

Once again, Harry felt the absence at his side more than he really registered Professor McGonagall calling the name. Once again, the hat took a significant amount of time deciding where Neville would go. Long enough that a horrible thought occurred to Harry. What if he simply wasn't sorted? What if the sorting hat just sat there until they took it off and told him there'd been a mistake, he had to return to the Dursleys'? Harry felt no relief from this notion as Neville ran off to Gryffindor still wearing the hat only to double back in embarrassment. After all, Neville was raised as a wizard. And Hermione probably wasn't, but she was incredibly intelligent. Whereas Harry was…just Harry. Like he'd told Hagrid.

Harry peripherally noticed the boy he'd met at the robe shop (Malfoy, Draco) go into Slytherin, but he was so preoccupied by his latest thought that nothing else penetrated his panicked haze until, "Potter, Harry!"

Harry's heart stopped. There was no noise, only a rushing sound. Then someone seemed to ask if it was really him. Similar whispers followed him all the way to the hat, until it fell over his eyes, every eye in the hall pointed straight at him being the last thing he saw. His mind went blank in panic.

"Oh, I wouldn't say blank," said a small voice, "There's quite a lot going on in this head, yes indeed! Why, you could probably fit in nicely anywhere I put you, although…yes. No personal objections that I can see and a mind as yet unmolded. Yes, you will go quite far in SLYTHERIN!"

The last word was shouted out to the entire hall. A moment passed and the hat was lifted slowly from his head. Silence had fallen once more. This time no one broke it. But everyone stared at him, as though he had at least seven new heads.

A/N: Aaaaaaaaand…yep. I ended it there. I may like cliffhangers just a tad much, but that's a hazard of writing fanfiction I suppose. At any rate, reviews are incredible under any circumstances, and also motivate me. I probably won't get chapters out as quickly for this story as I did Olde Rituels, because these chapters will be a bit denser, though I can try. If motivated enough. If not, it'll probably be a chapter for every two weeks. And my initial motivation tends to flag a few chapters in no matter what I'm doing, so that's where y'all come in.

To completely change the subject, the idea of this story is that one thing in cannon changed, Dudley's fit, and everything else fell in a completely different direction because of it. This won't be a typical alternate universe fic, because my goal is to keep Harry's initial personality firmly rooted in cannon until some event happening differently changes it. (I even transcribed large portions of this chapter from cannon with minimal to no changes because not much really changes until the sorting.) The hat in cannon told Harry he could be great in Slytherin, but Harry opposed it. By the end of the second book, Harry was firmly a Gryffindor, although he arguably hadn't given up all of his Slytherin capability to grasp complex plots, if his handling of the diary is any indication. And from that simplification of a far more complex argument that I'd love to debate at length with any who are interested, (no seriously just PM me) this story was born.

But anyway, I'll leave you with that food for thought and simply say what I always do.

Best of wishes,

feauxen

P.S. If you'd like to know my stance on ownership of Rowling's intellectual property, I state it quite firmly in Harry Potter and the Olde Rituels, my other story. ;)