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Harry Potter, in his mind anyway, was a most unremarkable young man...err, wizard. Oh he knew it was a little different to be an orphan; after all his schoolmates usually lived with at least one parent. But he'd determined early on that it was best to appear unremarkable, to practically everyone he knew. Staying under the radar with his Aunt and Uncle meant he could sometimes snag a few discarded leftovers to supplement his meagre meals, and if it kept his to-do list of chores at a nearly achievable level versus a totally impossible list of tasks to be completed, so much the better. It was greatly advisable that he be near invisible to his cousin Dudley, his Aunt Marge and her precious Ripper, lest he be attacked with fists, words or teeth. The boy was also acutely aware that being perceived as unexceptional was safer at his primary school as well, because nothing good came from achieving better grades than his behemoth of a cousin.
Still, for all his attempts to be unremarkable (or perhaps simply invisible), young Harry acknowledged strange things sometimes happened to him. It was usually when being harassed or bullied by Dudley and his gang of sycophants, though there was that rather amazing experience of being able to talk to, then free, the snake at the London Zoo. But he'd never really pondered these little episodes deeply before; at least not until his Uncle turned into a complete nutter over the deluge of owl delivered letters that seemed determined to find Harry, regardless of where his Uncle tried to escape to.
It was rather a shock then, to be greeted by a hairy giant of a man named Hagrid, who carried a pink umbrella and announced grandly that he, Harry, was a wizard (no way…seriously???) and then took him away from his relatives on a flying (flying!!!) motorcycle. That had been brilliantly memorable, not only for Dudley's pig's tail, but also for his brief (and as it turned out, rather haphazard) introduction to the Wizarding world. Not to mention his first real gift ever, a gorgeous snowy white owl.
So Harry watched with interest several weeks later as his uncle pulled into the Kings Cross Station drop off on St Pancras Street, at 9:23 am (he'd never been to a train station before). It was Sunday, the first day of September, 1991 and Uncle Vernon was offering no special acknowledgement of the day. He was disgruntled enough that he had to drive into central London to drop the misbegotten boy off on his day of rest. So no kind words of leave taking were imparted, nor speeches to encourage the eleven year old boy to do his best. Vernon Dursley, a veritable whale of a man perpetually on the verge of apoplexy, simply popped the button for the boot and reached into the back seat to shove the boy door-ward, shouting “Be on your way, you freak.” The young boy scrambled out, dragging the caged owl with him, and dived to the boot of the car to retrieve his trunk, before his uncle could take off and leave him without his school things.
The eleven year old boy had been told by Hagrid he needed to be on Platform 9 ¾ by 11 am on September 1st. Hagrid, while appearing to be a huge and somewhat intimidating man when he first tracked Harry and the Dursley family to that small island in the midst of a storm, had rapidly become a hero in the young boy's eyes. Harry was determined not to let his first friend in the magical world down; he’d be on that train to Hogwarts, or his name was not Harry Potter. He found himself almost glad that he'd been delivered early, as his new friend had been rather remiss in providing instructions on how to find the platform, and he thought the designation 9 ¾ might be a magical code of some kind. So he felt a little relieved he'd have time to explore and get where he was supposed to be, before the 11 o'clock deadline rolled around.
Dressed rather shabbily in the best of his cousin's oversized cast-offs and dragging his new trunk while trying to juggle the cage for his owl Hedwig, Harry was resolved; he’d be successful in his search for this elusive school train platform. Having no success finding his platform on the station map located just inside the Kings Cross entry doors, he manhandled both his trunk and Hedwig into each nook and cranny in the station. For the next 90 minutes Harry searched high and low for Platform 9 ¾. He'd started by investigating all the platform entrances, eventually finding platforms 9 to 11 tucked off to one side, but there was no sign of the elusive 9¾.
Along the way, Harry fortunately found an abandoned luggage trolley to haul his belongings, making one thing in his life a little easier, despite one very wobbly wheel. He'd wandered by all the stores, peering into the Marks and Spencers and Pret-A-Manger with poorly disguised envy at those getting food (breakfast having been conspicuously absent from his morning at the Dursleys, as usual), while his stomach began to rumble a little from all his efforts carting his trunk around the train station. Fortunately a kind passerby had given him a few coins to get into the toilets or he'd have also been searching for a very quiet corner to relieve himself. Sadly, neither his uncle nor his new friend had provided him with any cash for his journey, and Harry hadn't known to ask the Goblins for muggle money when he'd accessed his vault for his school supplies.
Beginning to panic a little as 11:00 neared, he finally resorted to approaching the information stand to see if they could help him find his platform (incidentally missing the Weasleys loudly making their way through the station), but with no luck. In fact, the British Rail information man had run him off for his nuisance questions. Dejected, Harry returned to the vicinity of the number 9 and 10 platforms and settled down by his trunk, watching the electronic clock roll from 11:00 to 11:01 am; he knew that he’d missed the critical deadline to be able to catch the train. Resigned to hoping someone from Hogwarts would figure out his dilemma and come to his rescue, the messy haired boy in the rag-tag clothes squished closer to his belongings, in the hope of being as unobtrusive as possible.
Talking quietly to his owl, Harry asked, "So how long do you think it'll be Hedwig, before someone notices I'm not on the train?" Affectionately nibbling his fingers through the bars of the cage, Hedwig softly hooted to comfort her human, not really having any answers for the undersized eleven year old.
Harry squirmed back against the wall, searching for a more comfortable position, and reconciled himself to waiting, knowing it might be a long while, but not having any other options. He didn't want to go back to the Dursleys if he could avoid it, and wasn't really sure how he'd get there anyway. He only had their address (they'd never told him their phone number), so he could hardly call for a pick up. He didn't know if that was a deliberate oversight, but after all, who was a useless freak going to call or receive phone calls from? Dudley's bullying ways had ensured he was entirely friendless. And while he knew he could talk to the police if he had to, that they'd get hold of the Dursleys, he didn't really want to face the shouting and lack of meals that would inevitably follow if he brought the coppers to their oh-so respectable door.
He also realised he had no clue where Hogwarts was actually located and how long the train journey was on the Hogwarts Express, or when they'd figure out he was missing. So young Harry took the safest option and sat...and waited. As the hours passed, he grew even more hungry, but without money there was nothing he could do to rectify the situation. But then he was familiar with hunger. It was a regular fact of life for him, especially over the summer when he didn't receive lunch at his school, so he just endured, like he always did. He also prayed that the transit police wouldn't find him before someone from the school was able to extricate him from this mess. Little did he realise that the power of accidental magic took care of that for him, throwing up a notice-me-not spell and turning the muggles away that might be tempted to stray too closely.
The hours rolled by slowly for the forgotten boy, who filled most of the time poring over some of his textbooks. He only left his little corner for brief trips to the drinking fountain and one more trip to the loo (using up his remaining coins). Feeding Hedwig a couple of owl treats from his trunk, he contemplated trying one himself, but shied away, not quite that desperate yet (after all, who knew what those treats were made of).
For those fortunate enough to be on the train, the hours rolled by much faster. Young Mr Malfoy, flanked by his goons, insulted those he considered beneath him, as would have been expected by Malfoy Senior. A pair of red-headed twins contemplated mischief and planned pranks, aiming for a head start for the new school year. A young bushy haired witch organised a search party for a certain toad masquerading as an escape artist. And the youngest Weasley son looked enviously at the sweets on the trolley as he dubiously considered the rather squashed sandwiches he'd brought. He took a moment to wonder where Harry may have gotten to (he'd been directed by his mother and Professor Dumbledore to seek the orphan out and offer his help to become accustomed to the Wizarding world), before becoming distracted by the very generous offerings of Bertie Bott's beans and chocolate frogs from a fellow year mate. All thoughts of Harry Potter left his mind as the distraction of sweets and a lively discussion of how the Sorting would go ate up much of the remaining journey.
By the time 8 o'clock rolled around, Harry was starting to panic. As he'd become more distressed, his accidental magic began to weaken and the charms that helped him avoid being noticed started to fail. He realised that people leaving the platforms around him had started to pay some attention to him sitting with his trolley by the wall, perhaps realising it was getting late for a boy to be out unaccompanied. A transit policeman had wandered by once, though hadn't approached Harry; he was well aware that his situation would have to change before too long. In the meantime, the multitude of first years were shepherded onto boats to approach Hogwarts Castle for the first time. Hagrid briefly noted Harry's absence but was quickly distracted by the firstie who went overboard into the lake (there was always one!) and didn't remark on it further.
Harry, deciding it was time to be on the move, gathered his belongings back into his trunk and began to make careful laps of the station, aiming to avoid the attention of any bobbies who might be lurking about. He circled back to the platform area periodically, thinking that would be the most likely place a search party would start. As Harry began his first circumnavigation of Kings Cross Station, the first years clustered in the entry to the Great Hall, listening to the odd hat on a stool sing about each House and wondering where they'd be Sorted. Professor McGonagall, a tall wiry witch somewhere in late middle age, called the first name, "Abbott, Hannah". And so it went on for the first years' Sorting. Until…."Potter, Harry" rang out. A buzz of excitement filled the Hall as the students and staff eagerly anticipated their first look at the Saviour of the Wizarding World. Only there was...nothing. No Harry Potter! Professor McGonagall called for the boy again and still no response.
At this point, a bit of panic started to set in. Students and professors alike looked to one another and then Professor Dumbledore, and found no answers. Clearing his throat, the Headmaster stood and directed his deputy to continue with the Sorting, while he would initiate inquiries into the young man's whereabouts. The teachers huddled together around the head table and Hagrid found himself in for some uncomfortable moments when it was revealed he "might'a forgotten ta mention a detail o' two" to Mr Potter, when it came to getting on the train.
Professor Snape sniffed in disdain, muttering, "Well if the pampered prince can't even be bothered to catch a train, why should we go look for him?" and summarily refused to head up a search party. He was soundly berated by his fellow Heads of House Pomona Sprout and Filius Flitwick for his unkindness, and Professor Flitwick (whose mother had been muggle-born and introduced him somewhat to the muggle world) volunteered to take the lead in finding the missing boy. Dumbledore gladly accepted the offer, as he found most muggles tended to react rather strangely to him on his rare forays into their world.
Exchanging a look with Professor Sprout, he tipped his head towards the staff exit and beckoned her to follow. Reaching the antechamber, he turned to his colleague (and secret wife) reassuring her, "I'll find him, Pom. I still have those photos Lily sent me when Harry was born. I'll tinker with a point-me charm and use that to locate the boy. Don't worry, I'll get him here safely. Lily would have wanted us to do that, even if we never got the chance to raise him as she wished." The portly witch leaned down to press a kiss to Filius' cheek and offered a soft hug, "I know you will love. Bring that boy home to us."
As the Sorting transitioned to Feasting, Filius Flitwick scurried from the Great Hall to his quarters. Hogwarts, in her infinite kindness, had created joint quarters for himself and his Hufflepuff spouse. Though historically Hogwarts professors had been permitted to marry and bring their families to live in the castle, the practice had declined over the last century or two, to the point that the Board and the Headmaster refused to employ married teachers any longer. No-one knew the reason for such a change, though cynical minds suspected there might be a touch of sour grapes on the part of the perennially single Headmaster. However Hogwarts herself would have none of that. If these two professors happened to find love, then the castle supplied the means by which they could share their lives.
The doorway to each professor's quarters was located in the traditional corridors for the Head of House, and opened into a decent sized individual living room, decorated to each one's tastes. This sitting room could be visited by staff and students alike, and provided no clues to the Headmaster that there was anything out of the ordinary. However, there was a hidden opening in both living rooms, keyed only to the couple's magical signatures and protected by strong wards, that led via a mysterious portal to shared rooms that were their private escape from the rigours of both teaching and hiding a relationship. Somehow the Castle managed this, despite the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Heads' quarters being located in entirely different sections of the school.
Flitwick hurried through to their study and located the photo he wanted, pausing briefly to reflect on his memories of that special family. Lily Potter had applied to be his apprentice and take a Charms Mastery, before having to go into hiding from Voldemort. She'd become very close to her diminutive mentor and had been privy to his marriage to the Herbology professor. Having lost her own parents shortly after graduating from Hogwarts, Lily had come to consider Filius and Pomona to be surrogate parents and had intended for her baby boy to love them as grandparents. Filius tenderly brushed a finger over the photograph, smiling as Lily snuggled a sleeping Harry closer, and James leaned over the two, entranced by his small family. The Charms Master shook off his melancholy and, carrying the photo, headed for the door. He needed to get a move on as he'd have to get outside the Castle wards in order to apparate to Kings Cross Station, and who knew what was happening to Harry while he dallied.
Fifteen minutes walk later, and with the quietest popping sound, Filius Flitwick apparated onto Platform 9 ¾. He doubted he'd find Harry on the platform, but it was a safe place to start his search. He drew enough attention in the muggle world, being mistaken for a dwarf; the last thing he needed was to surprise people further by appearing out of nowhere. Taking out his wand and the photo, he thought for a second on the correct charm modification and uttered the incantation for the adapted point-me charm. As suspected, he was directed into the main station area and emerged from the magical platform to begin his search.
With his wand acting like a magical direction finder, it took only a couple of minutes to locate the missing student. Taking a moment to observe the boy before approaching, he wrinkled his brow with concern. Harry was much smaller than he'd expected the child to be. Despite Lily and James' wishes that he and Pomona raise Harry if anything happened to themselves or the child's godparents, their wills were not found after their deaths. Dumbledore insisted that his (and the Wizengamot's) hands were tied in the matter of custody. Absent clear directions from the parents, in writing, the boy would have to go to the nearest blood relatives. He'd further insisted that Harry's location would have to remain a secret for the boy's safety, and hadn't been persuaded to allow Filius or Pomona to visit. Flitwick had approached his Uncle Garlock who was the Potter's account manager at Gringotts, but they too had been unable to locate a will and were just as powerless to act on the orphan's behalf.
Examining the boy further, Filius' concerns for Harry's well-being deepened. He noted the worn, poorly fitting clothing that appeared to have been more suited for use as dust rags, than a boy's outfit to go away to school. He could see Harry had a bit of a limp and suspected the shoes fit just as badly, though on the small side rather than falling off his feet. His unease grew as he realised that Harry was virtually begging strangers for coins, in order to use the public toilets and that he had no money at hand to take care of his needs. Had the boy even eaten that day? Mentally he cursed Hagrid for doing such a poor job of readying Harry for his journey to Hogwarts, and berated the Headmaster for sending such a useless emissary for the task. But that was of little importance right then. He had Harry to take care of and everything else could be dealt with later.
Approaching cautiously, Filius softly called, "Mr Harry Potter?" attracting the boy's attention. Just in time it appeared. As the young man looked up and noticed the tiny professor, a transit policeman came by and gave the boy a hard look. He backed off when realising that there was an adult now with the boy, even if the adult was rather a short fellow.
"Ah good, you're definitely Mr Potter. You have your father's hair and your mother's eyes. It would be hard to mistake you, even in a crowd," Flitwick cheerfully announced. "Professor Filius Flitwick, Charms Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at your service," he continued in his courtly manner, discreetly throwing up a spell to muffle his words to any muggles passing by.
"You knew my Mum and Dad, sir?" Harry was rather flustered at this. After all, he knew nothing of his parents except that Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had called them drunkards and wastrels.
"Oh yes indeed," the professor responded. "They were a fine young couple. Your mother was planning to become my apprentice before the war intervened. And your father, while a bit of a rapscallion at school, became a highly regarded auror in just a few short years. My wife and I loved them both dearly, and they were very excited when you arrived. We gave you an enchanted teddy bear that played music and soothed you to sleep with wonderful calming herbal scents when you were born. My wife's the Herbology Professor you know," Flitwick continued as an aside.
Harry was completely bewildered. Here was this enthusiastic little man, telling stories of his parents and him as a baby...and they were good stories! He didn't really know what to think or say to the professor. But before he could come up with a response, Flitwick stated, "Oh I'm sorry young man. I believe you were rather desperate for the loo when I came up to you." He handed over some coins and offered to watch Harry's belongings. Harry made a rapid dash to the gents and returned quickly, feeling much more comfortable. Though he was embarrassed a few seconds later, when his stomach grumbled loudly, attracting the teacher's attention.
"You must be terribly hungry, Harry. If we return to the school now, it will be roughly 20 minutes or so before we can enjoy the feast that awaits us. But we can get a snack here then head out. It's your choice, whichever you'd prefer."
Surprised once again to be offered choices by an adult, Harry stammered, "Um, I think I'd rather get to the school if it's alright with you. I can wait to eat, especially if it's going to be a proper meal." Flitwick was quick to pick up the clue, that "proper meals" were likely quite rare in the lad's experience. Like many teachers, particularly Heads of Houses, it wasn't the first time he'd encountered a situation where a student might be suffering from neglect or outright abuse.
Keeping his demeanour cheerful, Flitwick responded, "Well it's off to Hogwarts then. Let's get back onto the platform and I'll be able to side-along you to the school gates. We'll have to walk from there. No apparating into the school grounds I'm afraid; the wards won't allow it."
Harry rather felt like he'd been dropped into a foreign country at that pronouncement. He knew the words were English, but none of them quite made much sense. But still, there was food on offer, so he was more than willing to follow the professor's lead. He grabbed the trolley handle and trundled along beside the much shorter man, who moved deceptively quickly for his size. The pair returned to the area by the entrance to platform 9, and Harry was sure his jaw dropped when he was instructed to run directly at the brick wall between platforms 9 and 10. Still, in for a penny, in for a pound, he took off at a good clip with the trolley, fully expecting to crash hard into the brickwork. To his surprise, the wall sort of phased out of existence as he passed through and he found himself standing on a vacated train platform, with his trunk and owl, waiting for the professor to follow him through.
Professor Flitwick chuckled a little at the dumbfounded expression Harry wore, knowing he was going to find apparition even more strange. He took out his wand, tapped Harry's trunk and enjoyed Harry's expressive face as the trunk shrunk down to a size just a little bit larger than a matchbox. Resisting the urge to pull the boy's leg a little, he hastily reassured him that all his belongings would return to normal once they got back to Hogwarts and reversed the charm. Harry put the box in his pocket (a little gingerly if truth be told) and grabbed Hedwig's cage as Flitwick instructed, now also made easier to manage with a featherlight charm.
"Now take hold of my hand, Mr Potter and keep a tight grip, and I'll apparate us to Hogwarts. Just a little turn to start, keep your knees soft for the landing, and you'll do just fine. All set? Then let's be on our way. There's a feast calling our names!"
And after a quick turn, and a bit of a jerk, Harry found himself trying to find his feet as he stared at a huge castle and grounds, beyond the set of gates in front of them. He knew he'd never seen such an amazing place in his life. He could feel...something. He couldn't define what he was sensing, but it felt rather like he was being welcomed home. How strange a feeling that was, when he'd never felt welcomed anywhere before.
"Come along Mr Potter, we should get indoors for the night. Our dinners await and I'm sure you have a question or two to fill the time it takes us to get up to the castle." Flitwick set off and Harry scrambled to follow. Questions, oh yes he had questions! Many more questions than they likely had minutes. But he'd happily take whatever he could learn. He had a feeling the diminutive professor would not begrudge him seeking answers. Nor did he, and Filius happily filled Harry in on the four Hogwarts Houses (his parents had been Gryffindors, though he'd always thought Lily would make a splendid Ravenclaw), a little of the history of Hogwarts Castle and the Founders, the sorts of things he could have Hedwig do for him as a post owl familiar, the differences between a pet and a familiar and all manner of random topics.
Approaching the steps to the Castle entrance, Professor Flitwick paused for a second and contemplated the things he'd told Harry in the last half hour or so, and then realised his faux pas. He'd revealed that he and Pomona were married! Sighing, he knew he'd have to trust Harry with the secret the boy's parents had also carried.
"Mr Potter, I'm afraid I spoke too hastily on one topic when we first met. I revealed to you that Professor Sprout and I are married. It's something your parents knew, but also something we've kept secret. You see, the school governors and the headmaster do not permit married couples on staff. So Professor Sprout and I have been very discreet about our marriage, and in fact, Hogwarts Castle has assisted us in that undertaking by magically creating private quarters for us, unknown to the rest of the castle's inhabitants."
"We have two options, Harry. If you are willing to keep the secret, I would have you swear a simple vow to do so. Or if you prefer, I could obliviate you, where I would remove only that one thing from your memory, leaving all else intact. It's a perfectly safe procedure and one I'm trained to perform, but it's entirely up to you to choose".
Harry felt rather honoured once again, to be given a choice in the matter, especially one so important as this. He gladly agreed to swear the oath to keep his Professor's secret and followed the instructions to the letter. That task done, Flitwick led his hungry charge into the castle and ducked around to the staff entrance with Harry in tow.
"Come sit beside me at the head table for now Harry. Professor Sprout and I will make sure you get a good meal, then we'll see what the Headmaster wishes to do about your Sorting. And be sure you save room for dessert. The house-elves are known for being exceptionally good at making sweets!" Harry followed Flitwick into the Great Hall, mentally repeating to himself "House-elves?", only to be distracted by the Charms professor transfiguring a dinner plate into a chair. He soon found himself scooted in between a tall seat piled with cushions and a grey haired witch with a very kindly face, who he guessed was Professor Sprout.
Pomona cast a glance at her husband as he shepherded the young boy to the empty chair between them. They'd been married for so long that they often communicated without words, and she could pick up the signs that Filius was worried about the lad. As another place setting materialised in front of Harry, and Filius levitated himself into his own seat, she knew without doubt that Harry had not had an easy childhood. She took in his stature, his unnatural leanness, the broken glasses, shabby clothing and worn down shoes, and knew they would have difficult days ahead. This was a boy obviously unaccustomed to tender loving care or even much to eat, as he quickly but neatly polished off most food items within reach, all the while showing impeccable manners. A quick nod passed between the couple. They'd be looking out for Harry from here on out, no matter what Dumbledore might have to say.
In the meantime, the racket from the students had risen to fever pitch, as they realised Harry Potter was now seated at the head table. There was much speculation as to where he'd been all these years - had he really been on all those adventures like the books told - and everyone had the opinion he should be sorted into their own house.
Ronald Weasley, at the Gryffindor table, was absolutely certain that Harry would be joining him and they'd become best mates. After all Dumbledore had said so and he was a great wizard. Neville Longbottom, seated with the Hufflepuffs, thought it might be nice to get to know his year mate. His Gran had said Harry's parents had been great friends of his Mum and Dad. Perhaps they could trade stories and become good friends as well. Hermione Granger was sitting a little apart from the other first years at the Ravenclaw table. She wasn't all that used to making friends, because she'd always worked separately from others in primary school, being so far ahead of her grade level. She speculated on how Harry might have defeated an evil wizard as a baby, and wondered if he'd be clever (and studious) enough to form a study partnership with her. Draco Malfoy, regally planted at the Slytherin table, was a bit perturbed by Potter's shabby appearance. Still, he rather thought his father would wish for him to become friends with Potter. He would be a useful connection in the future.
While the students finished their meals and speculated, Albus Dumbledore, venerated Headmaster and defeater of Grindelwald, wondered if his ideas and machinations would still come to pass. He had an agenda for young Mr Potter; he was certain Voldemort was not completely vanquished and Harry would be essential for the final defeat. He needed Harry to make connections with the Light families for the greater good, which was why he'd given Hagrid the task of introducing the boy to the magical world. He knew his Groundskeeper would do his best to influence Harry toward Gryffindor and away from Slytherin. That was the most important starting point for all his plans.
Ending his speculation, Dumbledore turned to Professor Flitwick and attempted to engage him in a near interrogation of where and how he'd found Harry, and what he'd talked to the boy about. But Filius waved him off with his fork. "I'm eating here, do you mind Albus? I'm sure there will be plenty of time to get to your questions later. We'll have to get the lad Sorted once he's done eating though; he's totally exhausted and needs his bed sooner rather than later I believe."
Shut down by the irrepressible Charms professor, the Headmaster acknowledged he would Sort Harry right after the meal, then run briefly though the announcements and they'd be done for the night. Nodding in agreement, Flitwick returned to his meal, shooting another telling glance his wife’s way. She caught the look and responded with a slight smile. "Well done, my canny husband," she smiled to herself.
Finally, the meal was done and Harry had to admit that Professor Flitwick was right; those house-elves made absolutely wonderful sweets. Even from his limited experience, he could tell they'd created something special. And he had a favourite dessert for the first time ever. Treacle tarts were to die for! Stuffed as full as he'd ever been, the young boy was finding the trials of the day were catching up with him and he began to drift off a little. However he was soon woken up with a start at the feeling of a hat being plonked on his head, and was startled further as it started to speak to him!
"Harry Potter eh? You're an interesting challenge for this old Hat to be sure," the Hat began. "I can see you'd do well in any house here. Your love of learning might have been suppressed in your early years, but Ravenclaw would sort that out and mature that brain into a fine mind."
"Now Gryffindor would be a good fit also. You've had to learn to be brave and strong, to survive. The Lions would nurture that in you. And Hufflepuff would offer you something you've greatly missed, loyalty and friendship. You've a great capacity for both inside you, lad." Harry was too taken aback by the talking Hat to have much of an opinion where he went, though he rather thought he'd like to avoid Slytherin, if Hagrid's description was anything to go by. Still, Hagrid had left him unable to make his way onto the train, so perhaps he should take the oversized groundskeeper's opinion with a grain of salt.
"Ah, yes Slytherin. You'd do great things there as well. Your capacity for self reliance and ingenuity would take you far in the House of the Snakes. I daresay you could teach them a thing or two. But you're almost evenly split across all four Houses. Tell me, young Harry, what do you wish for most, in coming to Hogwarts?"
Harry thought for a minute and responded, "I want to learn all I can about magic and what it means to be a wizard. And I want the chance to make friends for the first time in my life. I've never been allowed to do either before. That's what I want, Mr Sorting Hat. Does that help you figure out where I should be?"
The Hat mused quietly for a moment. "Indeed it does Mr Potter, indeed it does. I can't recall ever doing this before, but then I'm rather an old Hat, so perhaps my memory is fading a little. But I think it can be done. Hogwarts, would you be willing to create the special portals required to make this work?" Obviously hearing an assent, the Hat muttered, "Thanks old girl. And house-elves, would you be willing to support us as well?" Another silent agreement was also made.
Speaking now for the entire staff and student body to hear, the Hat raised its voice and announced, "Well then, everything is in place and I've made my decision. Better be Ravenclaw AND Hufflepuff!"
Absolute pandemonium broke out. The students and professors were unable to contain themselves and discussions were raucous as everyone proffered their opinion on the Sorting Hat's decision. Dumbledore insisted loudly that the Hat must re-Sort Harry, that no-one could live and study with the upheaval of belonging to two different Houses. The Hat, having been planted on the table in front of Flitwick's place setting by Professor Sprout, shouted at Dumbledore that he was not re-Sorting Mr Potter. And if his opinion was good enough for Godric Gryffindor and the other Founders, then Dumbledore should just bite his tongue and deal with the new reality; that he wasn't as in charge as he'd manipulated himself to be.
The shock amongst the rest of the teachers and students was palpable. Two Houses? Unprecedented! However if people had been watching carefully, they might have noticed there were two professors who didn't seem too flustered at all the goings on. Leaning back to shoot each other a glance behind the boy's back, Professors Flitwick and Sprout shared a knowing smile. It seems Hogwarts was determined to give them a chance to look after Lily and James's son after all. Knowing how the castle had created their own space, they were rather eager to explore their Houses and see just what the Old Girl had done to allow Harry to be a Ravenpuff. Or would that be a Huffleclaw?
Dumbledore realised that he wasn't going to get the students' attention any time soon. Waving his hands to quiet the racket a bit, he briefly made his start of year announcements and alluded to the risk of certain death if students trespassed into the third floor corridor. Having totally lost his audience, the Headmaster sighed, skipped the school song (he couldn't have tolerated the Weasley twins' drawn out dirge that night) and called for the prefects to show the first years to their Houses.
Recognising they had an unknown situation on their hands, Filius and Pomona took a second to make quick plans, then called their 7th year prefects over. "Gather all the students into the Common Rooms. Professor Sprout and I will explore what has been set up to accommodate Mr Potter's Sorting and will then meet with our Houses to make any necessary announcements," Professor Flitwick announced. Turning to the young boy, who was blinking rather tiredly through his battered eye glasses at this point, he continued, "Come with us Mr Potter. We'll see what wonders Hogwarts has created, to sort out this interesting situation."
Harry followed the pair of Professors out of the Great Hall. He couldn't decide if he was exhausted or overwhelmed and settled for a combination of both. At this point he was just hoping for a real bed, and fairly shortly at that. Conferring at the foot of the Grand Staircase, Sprout and Flitwick decided to split up to their respective Houses. Harry, being more familiar with the Charms professor at this point, elected to accompany Flitwick up the stairs to Ravenclaw Tower, while Pomona explored the changes to Hufflepuff. Flitwick took the opportunity to warn his student about the random movements and other quirks of the staircases, making the boy wonder just how much weirder his day might get.
Finally reaching the Ravenclaw entrance, the professor explained that Harry would have to answer a riddle each time to enter, in lieu of a password. Rather chuffed to easily solve the logic puzzle without assistance, Harry blushed with pleasure when his Head of House exclaimed "Oh well done, young man. That was rather a difficult one." They entered the common room and Harry paused at the sight of the beautiful room, lined with bookcases and decorated in the House colours. "Can anyone read these books, Professor?" he asked shyly.
"Of course my boy. Past students have donated many of these books, with the intent that you read to your heart's content. After all, we Ravenclaws value our learning and enjoy encouraging those that follow in our footsteps."
Harry almost didn't know what to say. To be able to read whenever he wanted, to get good grades, to no longer have to hold back with his schooling? It was a dream come true! Despite the rather wobbly start to his Hogwarts education, he rather thought he was going to enjoy his time here; a small part of him was already beginning to dread having to return to the Dursleys at term's end.
"Come along Harry. Let's see what is going on with the first years' dormitory", Flitwick called over his shoulder as he bustled towards the stairs. One flight of stairs later, the petite professor opened a door off the corridors and looking in, exclaimed "Oh my word!" He paused briefly, taking in the changes, before continuing, "Hogwarts my dear, you deserve a medal. What a brilliant solution. I don't know how you did it, but this is perfect."
Harry followed into the room, a bit confused by the excitement. It was just a dormitory after all. Though the large four poster beds looked rather inviting (and he bet Dudley wouldn't be sleeping in such comfort at Smeltings), it was really just a long room that looked to sleep about a dozen or so students. He realised something was strange though, when a door opened at the far end of the room, revealing Professor Sprout who'd entered from the Hufflepuff common room.
Both professors were excited by such a turn of events. Hogwarts had indeed provided a unique solution and it appeared that the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw first year boys would be sharing a joint dormitory. Each bed was tucked into its own alcove, which could be closed off with drapes for a bit more privacy, and held a side table and small wardrobe to hang robes, with space for the students trunk under each window. Comfortable reading chairs and desks for studying filled the centre of the large room, giving students a little more space to spread out than in the common room.
Meeting in the middle of the dorm, the professors both chuckled to recognise another unique feature. Turning to Harry, Professor Sprout said "I do believe this is your bed here, my boy." She led him into the alcove where he recognised his trunk and found Hedwig sound asleep on her perch; being his familiar, she was able to stay with him in the dorm, rather than being banished to the owlery.
She laid her hand on a decorative panel to the side of the bed and it opened to a short hallway. "Come along you two," she directed to her husband and student behind her. Taking half a dozen steps, she halted at the only other door in the hallway and it opened to her magical signature. "Welcome to our quarters Mr Potter. Filius told you about our secret, yes?" she asked. Harry nodded in response. "Well it seems Hogwarts wants to make sure you can visit us when you wish. All you need to do is lay your hand on that panel by your bed and you will be admitted to this hallway. Knock on our door and if we're available, you'll always be welcome in our home."
The orphaned boy couldn't believe the generosity this couple was showing him. He'd never been welcomed anywhere before and the exhausted lad barely held back tears. Filius and Pomona recognised the signs of over-tired child at the end of his tether, and resolved to dig deeper into Harry's situation. Such a simple kindness as opening up one's home shouldn't garner such a response, if all was well in the lad's own home. However, that was for another time. They had a weary boy on their hands who was in desperate need of sleep.
"Alright my lad. We'll show you around properly later, but for now, I think it's time we got you into bed. We'll sort out the housekeeping things tomorrow, when you've had a proper night's sleep." Professor Sprout couldn't help mothering the boy a little. The trio returned to the dormitory, with Professor Sprout heading to the Hufflepuff common room for a brief House meeting, while Flitwick showed Harry the bathrooms and how to get the magical lamp at the head of his bed to light and turn out. Within minutes, the boy had his teeth brushed and was changed into a pair of dingy hand-me-down pajamas, before being tucked into his large and oh-so comfortable bed. Harry barely spared a thought for the fact that he was being tucked in for the first time in his life, before sliding into a deep sleep. Professor Flitwick chuckled at how quickly the boy succumbed, before casting a silencing charm around the bed, coupled with a wake up alarm for the next morning, ensuring Harry wouldn't be disturbed by the other boys as they entered the dorm and settled in for the night.
Done with his tasks, the Charms Master headed to the Ravenclaw common room to explain the new sleeping arrangements to the first year students and answer any urgent questions. He would be having a long talk with Pomona that night, about what they suspected was going on with Harry and what they would need to do, but in all, he was rather pleased with the day's work. Despite the late hour, he left for the common room with a smile on his face and a spring in his step, and mentally thanked Hogwarts for her consideration for the neglected and orphaned boy. Even the clamour of his Eagles, all demanding answers, couldn't touch the contentment he felt at having Harry Potter under the Flout's care at last.
~~~☆☆☆☆☆☆~~~
The journey of a thousands miles begins with a single step...sometimes through a seemingly solid brick wall...with an owl.
- Anonymous (adapted)