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Chapter Three—Watch Me

“You know we’ll be proud of you no matter what House you’re in, Harry, don’t you?”

James smiled as he said that, ruffling Harry’s hair. Harry gave a small smile back. He had discovered that small smiles were better than bigger ones, because it was harder for his parents to see that they were strained and ask what was wrong.

They never wanted to hear what was wrong, and he wasn’t about to make himself a burden by making them too uncomfortable.

“Of course,” Harry said quietly. “But I really want to be in Gryffindor with Felix. It sounds like it’s the best House.”

That made James grin and go off on another one of the stories that he had already told Harry about pranking Slytherins. Harry listened in silence, except for the expected gasps and, once, a sharp whistle thrown in to show that he was listening. He was still learning how much of that kind of thing his parents wanted to hear from him; he’d got a few weird looks from Lily last week when he’d tried too hard to show that he was listening to a story.

“Go on to bed, kiddo,” James said, at the end of the story. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

Harry smiled and hugged James and then trotted out of the dining room towards the corridor that held his bedroom. Felix was already in bed, because he had said that the earlier he went to sleep, the earlier the morning would come.

Harry made sure to open and shut his door. Then he turned and crept back towards the dining room, concentrating as hard as he could on being invisible. His magic formed around him like a cocoon for a moment, then disappeared. Harry hoped that meant it had worked.

“You think he might not be in Gryffindor, James?”

Ah. This was what he had come to listen in to. Harry settled against the turn of the corridor and listened.

“I just don’t know, Lils.” James sounded exhausted. He never sounded that way when he was talking about Felix, Harry would bet, and fear bit at him with sharp teeth. He might be sent back. “Being sick like he is and not able to use a wand, and not having Felix’s memory…he might feel like he has something to prove, he might get sent to Slytherin…”

“That’s not going to happen.” Lily moved around from the noises Harry heard. She was probably dragging her chair over to sit closer to James’s. “I told him all about Snape and how I lost my friendship with him. Harry’s not going to end up in his House.”

“But if the hat looks into his brain and says he belongs there, how can he keep from going?”

Harry half-smiled. Yes, it had been worth listening in. Lily and James had kept the mechanism of Sorting from him and Felix, since they’d said it was traditional to do that. But if it was a kind of hat that looked into your brain, then it was less challenging than Harry had been picturing.

“You know your choices influence who you are. I think Harry’s a Gryffindor, anyway. It would have taken so much courage to grow up with my awful sister…”

If you think that, why did you leave me there?

But that wasn’t the kind of thing he could ask his parents. Harry crept away from the corner and back to bed again, and lay there with his hands behind his head the way he often did, if a little more than a month could be counted as “often.”

They sent me to live with the Dursleys for reasons I still don’t understand. They could send me back there for reasons I still don’t understand. Better not to make waves. Better to be as normal as possible, according to them.

Harry hadn’t been able to be normal with the Dursleys because of his magic, and he knew he wouldn’t be perfectly normal here, either, what with his problems with the wand and animals. But he could still make sure that he was in Gryffindor and give his parents less reason to worry about him or wonder if he really fit with the political image the Potter family wanted to project.

Besides, I don’t think I want to be in Slytherin with people like Malfoy’s son who would hate me on sight and hate me more for coming from the Muggle world.

Become a Gryffindor, keep his head down, work as hard as he could on the remedial lessons for wand magic, not tell anyone about being a Parselmouth. That sounded doable to Harry.

*

“I don’t care how late at night you get away from the feast, owl us about your Sorting as soon as you can!”

“James! Do not encourage them to break curfew!”

James pretended to stagger backwards as if shot in the heart. Or cursed in the heart, Harry supposed. Felix laughed, and Harry joined in a minute later. Luckily, no one seemed to notice that he was a bit behind.

“Okay, owl us about your Sorting as soon as you can, even if that’s the next morning.” James reached out and gathered both Harry and Felix into a hug. “We love you, okay? Make sure that you stay away from future Death Eaters like Malfoy and Nott and Crabbe and Goyle and…”

“Dad, they’re all going to be in Slytherin anyway,” Felix said, with an enormous eyeroll.

Just one more reason not to go there, Harry thought, and firmed his resolve. If he had to shout at the hat in his mind to make sure that he went to Gryffindor instead, then that was what he’d do.

“Well, you never know.” James gave them each an individual hug, and then stepped back so Lily could reach them.

“I love you boys,” she said, softly, steadily, settling her hands on their shoulders, and although Harry thought she was mostly talking to Felix or about loving the idea of Harry instead of the reality, it was still nice to hear. “Be careful, have fun, be safe, and always remember that you can owl us at any time.”

“Mum,” Harry said, because he had adapted easily enough to calling her that even though he never thought of her that way, “what will happen with the owls and me? They always attack me, so…”

Lily pursed her lips and looked unhappy. Their visit to St. Mungo’s hadn’t uncovered any curse that Harry had been under, not that he’d really thought it would. It was still worth not telling them about the Parseltongue.

“Have your brother send them,” Lily said finally. “Hedwig could use the exercise, and if she’s gone, there’s always school owls he can use. Or you can have one of your friends send them, Harry, I’m sure they’d be happy to.” She smiled at him.

“I don’t want Felix to have to—”

“I had ten years where I couldn’t do anything for you,” Felix said fiercely under his breath. “Come on, Harry, let me do this.”

That startled Harry so much that he shut up. He still didn’t feel as if he really understood Lily or James or Dumbledore, and Sirius was actively avoiding him, but Felix was—something else.

“Yes, please let him,” Lily said, smiling at Harry and touching his shoulder extra-hard for a minute. “And if you ever need something from one of us, too, just ask.”

You wouldn’t say that if you knew who I really am.

But the whole point was to keep anyone from having to know, so Harry plastered a happy smile on his face and nodded. “All right.”

Behind them, the whistle of the train blew. Felix promptly started slapping his robe pockets and checking that he had Hedwig’s cage and his trunk and the extra bag of sweets Lily had given him. Harry already had all his stuff tucked away in his trunk, and he watched his brother with a slight grin.

“We love you!” James said, waving madly as Harry and Felix ran for the train.

“Stay safe!” Lily shouted.

“Break curfew to owl us about your Sorting!”

The last thing Harry saw as he and Felix waved from the train was Lily slapping James on the side of the head.

*

“Excuse me. Someone said I should come to this compartment to meet the important people on the train.”

Felix sighed as he glanced up from the chess game he was playing with Ron. He and Harry had grabbed a compartment, and Ron and Neville had found them immediately. Fred and George had looked in, but although Felix thought a tarantula sounded brilliant, he knew Ron was scared of spiders and wouldn’t come, so he’d stayed, too. Neville and Harry had apparently hit it off and were talking quietly about what Potions was going to be like with a professor who was as prejudiced against Gryffindors as Snape was going to be.

Someone else had to have sent this particular bushy-haired girl in search of them. It might be the twins, but Felix thought it was more likely to have been someone like Malfoy. The twins wouldn’t have been able to keep straight faces if they’d tried a prank like that.

“Probably someone meant that they thought you should meet me,” Felix admitted. “My name’s Felix Potter. But famous isn’t the same as important—”

“I read all about you in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts!” The girl promptly stepped into the compartment and flung herself down on the seat beside Neville, who gave her a nervous sideways look. “How did you defeat You-Know-Who? Do you know? Is it true that your scar is the only trace that was left of him and they couldn’t figure out exactly what happened? Is it true that you have a brother who grew up only in the Muggle world? Why did your parents do that to him? Why did—”

“Calm down,” Ron snapped. “Let him get a word in edgewise.”

The girl turned to him, bristling. “Well, excuse me, I’m sure.”

“You were talking so fast that I couldn’t answer your questions, though,” Felix said, trying for easy and calm. He didn’t recognize this girl, which probably meant she was Muggleborn or a half-blood raised out of the magical world. He didn’t want to insult or upset her. But she had been talking too fast. “Anyway, I don’t know exactly how I defeated Voldemort, no.” He ignored the way that Ron and Neville flinched. They would just have to get used to that. “The scar is the only trace left of him that I know about. And my twin is Harry Potter, who can speak for himself.” He tilted his head in Harry’s direction and waited.

Harry’s mouth twisted for a second, as if he thought the girl was so rude he didn’t want to talk to her. But he nodded. “My parents had me raised in the Muggle world for safety reasons.”

“But that’s stupid. What safety reasons? I would have always wanted to live in the magical world. I’m the first witch in my family, no one else has been magical, so I couldn’t, but I would want—”

“I’m not you.”

Harry’s words were flat, and for a moment, the walls crackled, hard, with magic. Felix winced a little. His brother’s magic was powerful, there was no doubt of that, but the longer he kept wielding it like a little kid, wandless and accidental, the longer it would take him to learn how to use his wand like an adult.

Felix himself had picked up his parents’ wands from the time he was young, because he had had to start learning early how to defend himself. He could guide his magic through them easily. If anything, Felix thought he probably had the opposite problem to Harry; he’d never had an accidental magic outburst.

“I know that.” The girl flushed. “I just wanted to know what the reason was for your being left in the Muggle world, and why—”

“You know it. Safety concerns. And you haven’t even introduced yourself. Could we do that before you start arguing with me about something I only learned a month ago myself?”

*

The girl opened her mouth, closed it, flushed more deeply, and then nodded. “Fine. Hermione Granger. Why were you left in the Muggle world?”

“Safety concerns,” Harry repeated blandly, and had to admit he enjoyed the way that Granger’s cheeks turned pink with annoyance. “If you want to know more than that, you’ll need to take it up with my parents. They have their own reasons, and they don’t want me to talk about it in that much detail.”

He caught a sharp glance from Felix. Harry raised his eyebrows at his twin, and had to admire the way that Felix clenched his jaw on the retort he obviously wanted to give, and nodded instead. It was true Dumbledore, Lily, and James didn’t want word of their plan to bring the Muggle and magical worlds together spreading to random people just yet.

“I would have asked them.”

“I’m not you.”

Granger looked like she might explode. Felix intervened, which Harry was glad about. Even though Granger had been raised in the Muggle world, like him, Felix was definitely the one who had more experience dealing with people demanding answers they didn’t need to know. “Look, Granger, this is still kind of a sensitive subject for us. Please don’t make my brother feel bad about not knowing every nuance of why he was left in the Muggle world. All I can say is that our parents did have good reasons, but they also don’t feel that they can explain them all to us yet.”

Harry gave his brother a smile of thanks as Granger sat up and turned back to Felix. He didn’t bother paying attention to their conversation, because it was either going to be more of the same or Felix telling Granger things Harry already knew. He picked up his book on history again.

He had to know all the things that people raised in this world did about the war and the history of the last ten years. Sure, Muggleborns got along without that, but everyone would expect Harry to act as if he’d been raised in the magical world just because he was a Potter. He wasn’t going to fall behind.

He got so involved in the book that Nott’s voice came as a surprise. “All by yourself, Potter?”

Harry looked up and blinked around. Huh. Yeah, the compartment was empty. He knew that Felix and Ron had discussed going to catch up with some other friends at some point, and Neville had probably gone with them. Harry supposed Granger had been kicked out or flounced out at some point before then.

“I’d like to join you.”

“Fine,” Harry said, feeling one of his eyebrows creep up. Nott was one of the weirdest people he’d met, for how little they interacted.

Oh, wait, of course. He was probably thinking that he could score some kind of political points if he made good with the Boy-Who-Lived’s brother. Well, unfortunately for Nott, Harry was utterly uninterested in that kind of thing. He turned back to his book, reading about the political maneuvering the Wizengamot had undergone to try and expose the Death Eaters in their midst.

“I suppose you know what House you’ll be in.”

Oh, great, he wants to talk. “Yeah, of course,” Harry said absently as he flipped the page back and forth to compare a written description of the robes the Wizengamot wore with a photograph on the next page. If anything, the description was too restrained to do the picture justice. “Gryffindor, where all Potters go.”

Nott laughed the way he had when they were in the library. Harry rolled his eyes and gave up on trying to get the book to explain the richness of the robes, skipping to the next section.

“You’re a Slytherin if I ever saw one.”

“Why? Because I have a few similarities to you?” Harry sneered at Nott, lowering his book enough to do so. Nott was leaning forwards, sitting in the seat that had been Felix’s, and almost vibrating with something that Harry didn’t think was the rush of the train. “Yeah, sorry, that’s not enough to make me Sort Slytherin.”

“Because you’re a survivor,” Nott said, starting to tick points off on his fingers. “Because you don’t seem to particularly value bravery, or you would have tried to conceal your reaction to the Weasleys’ prank. Because you’re immersing yourself in more ways to survive by reading history. Because you’re an outsider to the little Gryffindor world of your brother’s friends. Anyone can see it,” he added dismissively.

“I’m not going to be a Slytherin, Nott.”

“You say that. I say that you are. I don’t wager, but I will say that I’m very confident in my claim.”

Harry sneered again, and decided that he might as well reveal something the whole school would find out about anyway the minute he was in Charms, Transfiguration, or Defense, the classes that required a wand. He flared his magic between his fingers, a leaping array of sparks that made Nott blink and shut up. Then he took out his ebony wand and waved it.

“Not a spark,” he said. “Notice that?”

“Yes,” Nott said slowly, clearly wondering why in the world Harry was talking about this.

“Because I can’t use a wand,” Harry said. He leaned forwards a little, and noticed with satisfaction the way that Nott flinched and drew away, as if he couldn’t help himself. “I have a disease of some kind that means I can’t use a wand and I’ll need remedial Charms lessons and lessons in whatever other classes we have that use a wand. Frankly, I consider myself lucky to be able to ride a broom. I’m the weak one, Nott. The one who has all sorts of vulnerabilities that someone could easily prey on. So you’re bloody wrong. I am not going to be a Slytherin, where I’d get eaten alive for being a Potter and Muggle-raised even if I didn’t have this problem with my wand. Watch me, because I am going to be a Gryffindor. You might as well back off now, because trying to be close to me is going to hurt you, too.”

*

Theo felt as if his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. He stared at Potter, who stared back with the kind of eyes that were always watching for some way to hurt someone.

Because he’s been hurt himself.

But Theo had already known that. This—this was another thing altogether.

When he didn’t say anything right away, Potter gave him a gloating smile that mocked his own pain, mocked all the world, and picked up his book again. “Have nothing to say to that, do you?” he murmured, and turned his shoulder to Theo.

Theo took a deep breath. Yes, he had thought that Potter was different from most of the other children in their age group, including Felix Potter. He hadn’t known about this, but he could still make a point that Potter didn’t seem to have considered.

“What if your magic’s just wandless?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, I know it is,” Potter said, and rolled his eyes in a way that finally sparked Theo’s irritation. “Immature and accidental, and it won’t do what I want. That means I need remedial—”

“No, you idiot,” Theo snapped. “What if you can’t use a wand because your magic is meant to be wandless?”

Potter snarled at him, and an invisible force lashed towards Theo, pinning him to the seat. It felt like enormous fingers, pressed all along his chest and his throat. Theo fought the sickening jolt of panic that filled him whenever he encountered something that felt like a spell the Figgs had used on him, and laughed aloud.

“Oh, okay, so you learned to be mental from your father before they took you away.”

Theo hissed despite himself, and Potter’s magic let him go. Potter was leaning forwards, eyes very bright, fingers twitching as if he meant to defend himself with wandless magic when Theo attacked.

If Theo attacked. Which wasn’t going to happen. He sat up and made a show of brushing imaginary dust off his robes. Potter watched him intently, with eyes so cold that Theo wondered for a moment how no one in the Potter family could have figured out that he wasn’t the good little boy he was trying to portray himself as.

But that wasn’t Theo’s problem. Theo’s problem was securing a tolerable Housemate who could be of great help politically in a few years, and someone who could understand him in a way precious few people would.

“Do you realize how rare what you just did is?” Theo asked Potter softly. “Wizards train all their lives to be able to do something half as strong as that.”

“Because they’re adults who can use wand magic,” Potter said instantly. “When they were children, they probably did this kind of thing, and people thought of them as pathetic and immature.”

“Accidental magic can’t be directed like this, Potter.”

“It’s still accidental.”

“Stop acting as though you want to be underestimated,” Theo said, irritated again. “It’s stupid when I already know how strong you are, and it’s going to get people trying to attack you or make you reveal yourself in Slytherin.”

“Where I’m not going.”

“I might have thought Ravenclaw, with all the books you read.” Theo gestured to the one in Potter’s lap, which he recognized as one that his father thought was fantastically funny in the way it framed the war. “But there’s too much about you that’s perfect to make you a snake, as I already listed.”

Potter looked stricken for a second, although Theo didn’t know why, because he hadn’t said anything different than what he’d already said. But Potter’s jaw hardened in a stubborn mask Theo supposed he would become familiar with over the years, and he said, again, “Watch me.”

He lifted the book in front of his face after that, so obvious a dismissal that Theo thought it would be stupid to stay in the compartment. He shook his head and left. His father had thought the tradition of concealing the Sorting mechanism from the students ridiculous, and had told Theo about the hat. The hat saw what was really within you, Belisarius Nott had impressed on Theo, and that meant that, if Theo wanted to be in Slytherin, he had to think like one and value what they valued from his earliest years.

But Potter was a natural Slytherin without thinking about it, with every breath he took.

Good. I can’t imagine having to put up with no one but Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle for seven years in the same room. Potter will be tolerable once I work on him a little.

*

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

Felix’s voice was hushed as their boat drifted towards the castle. Harry glanced at his twin and nodded. It was hard to take his eyes from Hogwarts, though, or to stop the whirlwind of awe and wonder and anxiety taking place in his head.

I need to prove that I belong here. I can’t let them find a reason to kick me out. I can’t let Lily and James find a reason to pull me out.

Harry strengthened his will, and climbed out of the boats at the landing where they were being handed over by the big man—Hagrid—to Professor McGonagall, a stern woman with hair pulled back so firmly Harry wondered if she had cursed it. She thanked Hagrid and guided them into a small room where she gave them a small speech about the Sorting and left.

Harry made a point of smiling at Granger, who he’d had that disagreement with on the train. She was chattering about wanting to go to Gryffindor, and he would have to get along with her if they were Housemates. “It’ll be okay.”

She started and turned to look at him. “You don’t think the Sorting’s—risky?”

“No, it can’t be. Professor McGonagall just warned us because she’s stern and doesn’t want us misbehaving, I think—”

Loud screams erupted from behind Harry, making him leap. He turned around to see ghosts drifting through the wall. He settled himself, shaking his head. Lily and James had warned them about the ghosts, and although it was unnerving to see the Gryffindor one with his head dangling half off his neck and others with wounds bleeding silvery blood, they were harmless.

“You jumped pretty high,” said Granger, watching him with eyes that Harry thought were too shrewd.

“I don’t like loud noises,” he said, and then the doors of the Great Hall opened and they marched in, and Harry had other things to think about. So did Granger, from her comments on the enchanted ceiling.

Harry ignored the floating candles and the night sky overhead and the staring students and fastened his gaze on the ragged old hat sitting on a stool near the front. As it began to sing, he gathered his magic closer to him. Yes, he would have to use a wand to belong, but he definitely had the ability to compel the hat to put him where he wanted to go. This would be the last time that he ever used his wandless magic for anything big, he vowed to himself.

Just let me go where I need to be. Just let me be normal.

*

“Nott, Theodore!”

Theo lifted his head and stepped forwards, ignoring the speculative stares and whispers and the jeers that were breaking out at the Gryffindor table. They didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except the hat in front of him and his strong desire to go straight to the House that best suited him.

As he put the hat on his head, he felt a brief, fleeting touch on his mind, like Legilimency but gentler. There was a little silence, and then the hat said, You think you already know where you want to go?

Yes. I want to pay them back. I want to show them that I can be great, no matter what they think of my last name. I want to show them—

“SLYTHERIN!”

Smiling slightly, Theo left the hat on the stool and ignored the Gryffindors making gagging noises as well as the Slytherins clapping for him. They included Malfoy, who he could tolerate but not like; Crabbe and Goyle, who were pretty much non-personalities; Daphne Greengrass, whom Theo had thought would go to Ravenclaw and was therefore slightly interesting; Millicent Bulstrode, who was staring at her plate; and Tracey Davis, whom he didn’t know. Theo was pretty sure that Pansy Parkinson would end up here, too, but the Sorting he was most interested in would happen just a few after hers.

He sat down, nodded in greeting to Greengrass and Malfoy, and fixed his attention on the hat, clapping absently for Parkinson as she joined them. Potter was standing behind his twin, his arms folded and his stare as intent on the hat as Theo’s had been.

You can’t trick the Sorting Hat, Theo thought, something his father had told him. You can choose, but you can’t trick it.

And if Potter really belonged somewhere else, Theo would eat the Sorting Hat himself. Without butter.

*

“Potter, Felix!”

Felix did his best not to grimace as the whispers broke out around him. What they thought wasn’t of any consequence, Felix reminded himself pointedly. He understood now, a lot better, what Mum and Dad had been hinting at when they said the Sorting mechanism responded to your own choices and beliefs.

He sat down beneath it and felt the ruffling touch of its thoughts on his mind. The hat seemed about to speak aloud for a moment, and then paused and said to him silently, You know that you have enough determination for Hufflepuff and enough intelligence for Ravenclaw?

I know, Felix responded. He had half-expected this since he saw the hat and realized that some people were taking longer beneath it than others. But I really do want Gryffindor.

Why?

Because I’ll be comfortable there. And because I can help other people. I know that Mum and Dad and Dumbledore are the ones who came up with the goals to connect the Muggle and magical worlds, but I believe in them. And I need a good political base, but that means not startling or upsetting people too much at first. I need a House that supports me so I can start reaching out to those who don’t.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Felix smiled, whipped the hat off his head, and put it back on the stool. He glanced towards Harry, who was watching him with big eyes and that kind of stillness he got when he didn’t know what to do next, and nodded encouragingly.

He would make his House a welcoming place for all sorts of people, and that included any welcome that Harry needed.

He ran towards the cheering Gryffindor table.

*

“Potter, Harry!”

Harry took a deep breath and tried to ignore the stares that crawled along his skin. It wasn’t one-tenth the attention that Felix would get, he reminded himself. Or even that some of the Slytherin students probably would.

Or that he would if he went to Slytherin.

With that reminder of what he would suffer if he let the hat send him elsewhere, Harry managed to walk forwards at a fairly normal pace. He saw Professor McGonagall regarding him thoughtfully as he dropped the hat on his head and the brim dipped over his eyes a little. Lily and James had said she was the Head of Gryffindor House, hadn’t they? And the Transfiguration teacher. He hoped she would like him. They’d be spending a lot of time together, given the remedial lessons he would need in Transfiguration.

The hat pressed against his mind like a cool wind. Then it murmured into his mind, Your determination to survive and the kinds of secrets you’re hiding would give you a good place in Slytherin.

Harry sneered, unable to help himself. No, they would pick and poke at me to get the secrets out of me. And the House is full of Death Eaters’ children, anyway. I might not actually survive.

I need to place students where they would most thrive, Mr. Potter. I do not believe your physical safety would be in danger in Slytherin. But you would have the chance to grow apart from the shadow of your family and achieve your future as an individual person.

And my family might actually think I should go back to the Muggle world during the summers or something. No, thanks.

You are not suited for Gryffindor.

Yes, I am. Harry gathered his magic about himself, a buzzing crackle on his skin that he hoped he would be able to hear but Professor McGonagall wouldn’t. I’m brave to come here and let myself get stared at by everyone, aren’t I?

You are not suited for a house that prides itself on bravery and chivalry above all else, the hat repeated. And Hufflepuff’s friendliness and work ethic…no, you are not that kind of person, either. I might place you in Ravenclaw, but the study you have done has always been so that you can survive, especially in the last month. There is only one House suited for you, Mr. Potter.

You’re not going to put me there.

You don’t have a choice! I’m the Sorting Hat.

Watch me! Harry snapped, and whipped his magic around the hat as it tried to open its brim to shout out Slytherin. I can do this all fucking day!

*

Theo leaned forwards, staring. He had been sure, for a moment, that the hat was about to shout something out, but it appeared to have shut its brim again and was—wriggling back and forth on top of Potter’s head?

He could feel the restless stirring at the other tables. This had already taken longer than the Longbottom boy’s Sorting, which had been the longest before this. And Theo was sure that he saw a gleam of white light around the hat if he narrowed his eyes far enough.

A gleam centered around the brim, in fact.

He’s—holding it shut? What the hell? Merlin, Potter.

*

You have to let me put you in the House you’re suited for! I’m the Sorting Hat.

I’m not going to let you put me where I’d be an outcast, Harry panted. He was weakening faster than he’d thought he would. Wandless magic was childish, after all. But he continued to hold and pin the hat’s brim shut so it couldn’t speak, and the hat made a spitting sound that, a second later, Harry realized was completely in his head.

Stubborn child!

That’s right. You don’t get to just put me where you want.

You won’t grow in Gryffindor the way you would in Slytherin. It would bring out the best parts of you, the ones that right now you don’t understand or fear.

I don’t care about growing! I want to make sure that I can stay in Hogwarts and the magical world and with my brother. And my parents are going to hate me and worry about me if I end up in Slytherin.

That would be their fault!

I don’t care.

The hat went on struggling, but desperation was fueling Harry’s magic now, and he pressed down until the hat groaned into his mind. You’re going to tear me apart if you keep this up, and there are other children waiting to be Sorted. All right. All right. But don’t come back and blame me when you’re miserable.

I would probably be miserable anywhere I go, Harry thought back, and released his hold on the hat’s brim, although he was ready to attack again if it shouted out anything other than the House he wanted, the House he had to belong to to survive.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The Gryffindor table promptly burst into clapping and cheering, and two people who sounded like the Weasley twins were shouting, “We got both Potters, we got both Potters!” In the chaos, no one noticed Harry’s hands shaking as he lifted them to take the hat off his head, or the hat’s final threat, hissed into his head.

If I ever get a chance to sit on your head again, Mr. Potter…

Harry ignored the threat and dropped the hat back into Professor McGonagall’s hands. She was smiling at him. Harry nodded at her and trotted shakily over to sit down at the table next to Felix, who pushed a bigger boy down the bench and scowled when he looked like he was going to complain.

“All right, Harry!” Felix ruffled his hair, and Harry leaned against his brother for a second, before he straightened and watched as Lisa Turpin went up to be Sorted into Ravenclaw.

One of the twins leaned around Felix to wink at him. “Knew you’d be here with the lions where you belong, mate.”

Harry smiled back. At the moment, he thought he could smile for a month and never get tired of it.

*

He just forced the Sorting Hat to do what he wanted.

Theo clapped mechanically for the last person to be Sorted into Slytherin, Blaise Zabini, someone Theo hadn’t anticipated meeting here because he’d thought for sure that Zabini would be attending a magical school in Italy. Then Dumbledore stood up to make some kind of absurd speech, and food popped onto the plates. Theo served himself with the same kind of mechanical movements he’d used to applaud, still watching the Gryffindor table.

Potter was eating some mashed potatoes and beaming. But Theo knew it wasn’t his imagination that Potter kept some space between himself and other people at all times, even his brother, and that he whipped around when someone at the Hufflepuff table cast a charm with a loud bang.

I have no idea how or why he did that, except that he’s that powerful.

“In love with a lion already, are you, Nott?”

Theo didn’t jump at the words. This was the kind of challenge he had expected in Slytherin. He turned his head and stared at Malfoy with a flat gaze, and Malfoy began shifting in a second or two.

Lucius Malfoy never taught his son true strength, Theo thought, and curled his lip a little, then returned to eating without a word.

The conversation went on around him without anyone speaking directly to him, except when Parkinson asked him to pass the butter and Zabini engaged him in a short, testing, probing conversation about Arithmancy. Theo handled that easily. It was so short that it wasn’t a real challenge.

His gaze went back to the Gryffindor table one more time when they rose to have the prefects escort them to their beds. Potter wasn’t looking at him, and as far as Theo could tell, he hadn’t looked once all evening.

It’s still worth remaining close to someone who has such powerful magic that he could force the Sorting Hat to do what he wanted, Theo decided on the march down to the dungeons. And someone who…understands.

*

Harry lay in his bed, staring up at the canopy. Around him, other snores sounded.

It was lucky that the five boys he was sharing the room with didn’t have any pets except a toad and a rat, who just tried to cower away from him, Harry thought tiredly. There had been spitting and hissing from the cats in the common room when he’d walked in with Ron, Felix, Neville, Thomas, and Finnegan, Granger, Brown, and one of the Patil twins trailing behind. No one had seemed to connect it to Harry specifically, especially since there had only been two cats and they’d both retreated into their humans’ laps after a minute. But Harry wasn’t looking forward to the owls bringing post in the morning.

It was something else to be endured. Just like the remedial lessons he’d have to have in wand magic and the way Finnigan stared at him when he thought Harry wasn’t looking and the dynamics Harry could already feel forming around them just in the few words they’d exchanged before bed.

Felix was the leader. Ron was his best friend. Finnigan and Thomas were shaping up to become best mates, too. Neville would hover a little awkwardly between the pairs, but he knew both Felix and Ron and would be welcome there.

Harry would have to be the hanger-on, the loner, because he was a weaker wizard even than Neville, who had talked about his wand not suiting him but could still perform a charm through it after five tries. He’d attract Granger’s pity and offers of academic help, probably. Felix would include him, but as one with Ron and Neville, not above them. Brown and Patil would probably ignore him, along with Finnigan and Thomas when they got used to him.

But that’s still better than it would have been if you’d listened to the hat, Harry reminded himself. It said that you couldn’t go to Hufflepuff, which is the friendliest House, and Ravenclaw probably isn’t much better. And Slytherin…

Harry shuddered. Better overlooked and in his brother’s shadow than constantly bullied, or challenged, or sneered about, or hexed.

Harry drifted off to sleep, and dreamed of a dark forest with paths running through it, lit by an orange moon hanging above. There was someone waiting at the end of the path, Harry knew that, someone in terrible pain he could help. But the price for helping them would be more than he could bear.

He walked down the path, moving endlessly forwards, but it led nowhere, and it faded when he woke up, ready to face his first full day as a Gryffindor.

And compose a letter that Felix would send with Hedwig, the triumphant news of his Sorting.

I’ll survive. Far better here than anywhere else.