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It took three loops to create just the right speech to convince Abbot to sort Slytherin. Just one to get Bones on board. A few more to get Brown, a one after that to get Brocklehurst. Finch-Fletchley was such a pain to figure out, though not as much as Seamus, who was about the closest to reckless and furthest from cunning as one could get. Dozens and dozens beyond that to get the rest to fall in. He’d had to learn Occlumency just to keep each speeches organised and ready to repeat each loop. Absolutely horrific to learn and reminded him all too much of Snape but needs must. He had no time to waste with just one train ride to speak to them all.
Loop four hundred and seventy-eight was the one for sure.
“—Susan Bones? Your aunt’s surely not the Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, is she? You’re looking to follow in her footsteps, are you? How ambitious. Slytherin for sure. Think of all those connections you’ll make...”
Along he went, compartment by compartment. He’d memorised exactly where all the first years were on the entire train long ago. Finch-Fletchley was sitting with Macmillan and Boot. Finnegan and Thomas were seated together near the end.
“—such a pleasure to meet you Hermione. You’ve done all of the reading already? Wow, that’s incredibly ambitious. I bet you’re clever as anything too. You must be joining me in Slytherin, then.”
He could catch Neville in a compartment but wait too long and he’d have to track down him and Hermione as they wandered looking for Trevor. The Slytherins he didn’t need to speak to. Set in their ways and encouraged by their parents, they were Slytherins through and through.
“Harry Potter. Nice to meet you, Hannah. Say, what do you want to be when you grow up? A healer? How ambitious. I suppose it’s Slytherin for you then?”
Ron acted as the grand finale. Sad and sitting on his own, he was all too eager to see the Harry Potter.
“I’ve just been up and down the train must have seen a dozen of Weasleys around. All of them in Gryffindor. I bet you’re all too eager to set yourself apart. Few years down the line, I think you could be Head Boy. Maybe Quidditch captain too. Prefect will be no problem I bet. Well, if you’re ambitious enough. You and me in Slytherin together. With a strategic mind like yours, we’ll be unstoppable. Wouldn’t that be great?”
The train pulled in. The took the boats to the school. They whispered as the ghosts floated by. They entered the Great Hall.
McGonagall unfurled the scroll.
It was time.
“Abbott, Hannah.”
“SLYTHERIN!”
A few raised eyebrows, but polite clapping followed quickly enough.
“Bones, Susan.”
“SLYTHERIN!”
Her sorting received a few more nods of understating. Susan really was ambitious.
“Boot, Terry,” also went to Slytherin. Harry would’ve felt bad for the nasty looks the boy was receiving on account of being a Muggle-born, but Harry knew he wouldn’t be lonely for long.
The fourth Slytherin in row garnered raised eyebrows and concerned mutters. The fifth increased them. Bulstrode got half-hearted claps, and less confusion, perhaps because she was a shoo-in for Slytherin.
Finch-Fletchley sat next to Boot at the Slytherin table, and Hermione joined them forming a little Muggle-born trio. The poor Slytherins tried to isolate them, but unfortunately their table seemed to be having some spacing issues. A wicked grin overtook Harry’s face.
Snape was staring to look ever so sick. A real tragedy.
“Lot of Slytherin this year,” Neville said nervously from next to Harry.
“Looks like it,” Harry said. He clapped Neville on the back, sending him stumbling. “It would be absolutely miserable to be the odd one out, I’d say.”
Neville looked sick to his stomach but nodded. Harry watched with glee as Neville sorted Slytherin and took a seat next to Bulstrode.
Next was Moon, Nott, and Parkinson, then the Patil twins. Now those two had been tough to convince—so desperate to go their separate ways. All was going to plan. Poor Draco had to act as the flattened lunch meat in a Crabbe-Goyle sandwich after his name was called. The seventh years had started to shuffle down and each year followed their lead but there was only so much room. Professors and students alike were whispering like mad.
Harry chuckled quietly. Madness shone in his eyes. Zabini shuffled away from him, unnerved.
Harry’s name was called. He grabbed the hat from McGonagall with a sharklike grin. Dumbledore looked at him, eyes twinkling, grandfatherly smile on his face, as though Harry would end this insanity and break the chain of Slytherins.
Students whispered his name and sat up straighter. Snape glared at him with the loathing of a thousand suns, as if the sorting mishap was all Harry’s fault.
It absolutely was. Harry made sure his grin showed every last one of his teeth as he looked at Snape. It was an insane expression. Snape flinched. Harry cackled again and dropped the hat on his head. Barely an instant later he was sorted, faster than Malfoy himself. Harry waved at Snape as he dropped the Hat back into McGonagall’s hands and made his way to the Slytherin table. It earned him a murderous glare.
Yes, all was going to plan.
Harry squashed himself down next to, or rather mostly on top of Neville. “Lovely seeing you lot again. Isn’t this great?”
The true Slytherins, the ones he hadn’t spoken to, stared at him wide eyed. Back at the Sorting Hat two more firsties were sorted into Slytherin. Lisa Turpin and Dean Thomas awkwardly stood next to the table, then reluctantly folded themselves into the group. Fortunately, Lisa was pretty small. Parkinson, underneath her, probably wouldn’t be crushed to death. Dean Tomas, the lucky man, had snagged an actual piece of bench to sit on by convincing Lavender to stand up so he could slip half underneath-half between her and Theodore Nott.
Ron and Zabini were the last to show, both of them staring at the dogpile with the same horrified grimace. “Don’t be shy!” Harry called out. He tried the pat the bench but there was no room. He patted the table instead. “Sit down, sit down. We’re all friends here!”
“We are not,” Parkinson said irritably. It came out muffled, likely because she was still stuck underneath Lisa.
Harry grinned wider than the Cheshire cat. “See, Pansy agrees!”
Harry turned to look up at the head table, manic eyes gleaming. Students whispered. Teachers shared unnerved looks. Yes, this was bound to be an excellent year.