Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

A/N: Thanks, everyone, for your reviews! I would like to congratulate Aliba. You were correct, as you will discover in this chapter. And to the person who asked about Quidditch, no, but I do plan to get him on a broom. As A Bat, as you know. And finally, to the person who asked about why everyone thought Harry was dead, I explained in Chapter 2 that the Dursleys' house blew up in a gas main explosion. While they didn't find Harry's body, the destruction was so horrific that they couldn't see how Harry would have survived it, when in fact, Harry had never been in danger because he wasn't there in the first place. (In the original storyline, this explosion would have been averted by Harry's own accidental magic.)

Again, thanks everyone for your comments.

Enjoy!

The door swung open, creaking just slightly, and Harry could hear the sounds of another pair of shoes and the swish of velvet.

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

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." There was a stern quality to her voice that told Harry that this was not someone to cross. The door creaked again, and then everyone started moving forward, Harry pulled along by his hand on Ron's shoulder. He hoped he didn't get too turned around in this place. He could already tell that it was very large, just by the quality of the echoes he was hearing. He could also hear the crackling of flame and thought the walls were probably lit with flaming torches.

They walked along, presumably following Professor McGonagall, crossing a flagstone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from muffled space off to his right -- the rest of the school must already be here -- but Professor McGonagall showed them into a small, empty sounding chamber off to the side. They crowded in, Harry getting jostled in the process as they were all standing closer together than they normally would have done.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term 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 waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber and Harry swallowed. "How exactly do they sort us into houses?" he asked Ron.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Harry frowned. A test? Not only in front of the entire school, but at a time when he and any Muggleborn students wouldn't have had a chance to learn any magic? He could hear everyone around him start to breathe harder, just as nervous as he was. Then someone screamed as the temperature in the air dropped about three degrees. Harry instinctively tightened his grip on the cane. "What is it?"

Someone shouted "Ghosts!"

Ghosts! Nothing could have prepared him for that. New voices joined the panicked ones of the students. They seemed to be arguing about something. A tenor was saying, "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?" One of the ghosts had finally noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Friar, a smile in his voice. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

Again, no one said anything, though someone probably nodded.

"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. Gradually the influence of the ghosts on the room dissipated. "Now, form a line and follow me."

Feeling nervous still, Harry got into line behind Ron, keeping his hand on the other boy to ensure he was in line and picking his cane up a bit. He was sure that the Great Hall would be a reasonably flat surface, free of obstacles. They walked back across the hall and Harry heard the doors of the Great Hall open.

As they walked, Harry could hear countless muted sounds over what the walking students were making. There must have been hundreds of people to either side of them, students just like them, only older. The other first years were whispering a bit, and he heard Hermione talking to someone about the ceiling. "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History." With Harry's hearing, it was hard to believe there was a ceiling at all, as no sound echoed downward, and he wondered if the illusion was that complete or if it was just that high up.

They stopped, and there was the scraping of a stool across the stone of the floor and then the very soft sound of something made of heavy cloth hitting wood. For a few seconds there was complete silence, and then there was a new voice. And it was singing!

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. "So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Harry smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but he did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching. He had always hated it when people stared at him, and now they would have plenty reason. And he wasn't feeling much like the good qualities of any of the houses at the moment.

Professor McGonagall addressed the first years. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted. Abbott, Hannah!" There was movement in the line as the girl made her way to the front to be sorted. A moment's pause--

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

A large group of students on the right cheered and Hannah went to join them.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!" This time the cheering came from the left.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the cheering came from even further to the left; Harry could hear Ron's twin brothers cat-calling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the boy just next to Ron and Harry in line, waited for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!" Harry could hear her running and snickered.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat, and Ron groaned.

A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you're nervous. If he was separated from Ron by the hat, would their new friendship die before it had a chance to grow? "Hey, Ron?"

"Yeah, Harry?"

"Even if we aren't in the same house, can we still be friends? I mean, what if I get put in Ravenclaw or Slytherin and you get put in Gryffindor? I've never had a real friend, Ron."

"You bet, mate. I promise I won't let houses get in the way if we end up in different places. No matter what."

When Neville Longbottom was called, he tripped over his robe, but Harry caught him as he fell. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville, but he was put in Gryffindor. Everyone in line laughed at something and Ron told Harry that Neville had run off with the hat still on his head.

Malfoy was called, and his steps seemed slow and controlled. Harry thought he had a bit of a swagger to him. The hat instantly screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

There weren't many people left now. Moon...Nott...Parkinson...Patil...Patil (obviously another pair of twins) then "Perks, Sally-Anne."

Then, at last -- "Potter, Harry!"

Whispers erupted around him, but Ron kept his attention. "Straight forward, Harry."

"Thanks, Ron."

Harry put his cane out in front once again. He met no shoes on his way to the steps, as people moved out of his way. The sounds of whispers from all over the hall reached his ears and he cringed. It seemed there would be no escaping his fame at this school. He reached the top step and found the stool with his cane and sat down on it. Then he felt the hat being plunked onto his head. He waited.

"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. It was the hat. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes -- and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting....So where shall I put you?"

Harry thought about it himself. Wherever you think is best. I want to excel and I don't care what strangers think of me. I just don't like it when they stare.

"Really? Well then, better be SLYTHERIN!" The hat shouted the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and handed it to Professor McGonagall.

As the whole hall erupted into loud chatter and Slytherin cheered, Ron was suddenly at his elbow. "I'll take you to your table, Harry. I meant what I said. I'm still your friend." They walked down the steps together, Ron taking him to his new table. "People are going to want to shake your hand, Harry."

"I know." As soon as they'd reached the table he said, "See you later, mate."

Harry sat down at the table, collapsing his cane and slipping it into one of the pockets of his robe so he wouldn't loose it. A voice to the side said, "Marcus Flint." It was a deep, gravelly voice that put his height at almost six feet.

"Hello."

There were several other introductions throughout the Slytherin table, though thankfully Malfoy kept his nose out. The Sorting was finished, with Dean Tomas and Ron being put in Gryffindor, Lisa Turpin in Ravenclaw and Blaise Zabini in Slytherin. He just wanted the food to come so he could eat. He knew there was a plate in front of him, but it was empty. And the company around the table was lacking. He thought that the other Slytherins just didn't know what to make of him, and that was rather disheartening. He just wanted to eat and be on to bed.

Finally, the Headmaster spoke. There was a great smile in his voice as he addressed the student body. "Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

Everyone clapped and cheered. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not. This was certainly not the gravely apologetic man whom he'd met a month ago at the orphanage. "Is he -- a bit mad?"

Someone snorted. "You'd better believe it!" It was Terence Higgs, the Slytherin Seeker and a fifth year. "He's crafty though, and ruddy powerful. No one's for sure which house he was in, but I'm sure it was either Gryffindor or Slytherin. It's up in the air as to which, though."

Harry's nose suddenly went wild. "The food's here?" There were several offers to fill his plate for him, but he just asked what each thing was and set about arranging his place setting so he'd know what was where. He took the roast chicken, boiled potatoes, peas, carrots and gravy over all the vegetables. He ignored the peppermint humbugs and the Yorkshire pudding and decided he didn't need all the other meats on his plate, though there was roast beef, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak. And he didn't much care for ketchup, either.

He'd never really been starved at Mung Street, but neither had he ever really been full. It was a pleasant feeling, and Harry planned to enjoy it.

There was a sudden cooling at his left elbow. "So, you're in my house, are you, Potter?"

"Are you a ghost, sir?"

The spirit snorted. "Yes, of course. They call me the Bloody Baron, and that for two reasons, neither of which really concern you. I notice that you are blind. How is it that you knew what I was?"

"The air is colder around you."

"Ah. So, are all of your working senses enhanced like that?"

"I suppose. My coordination is very good. I've never needed that much help, as long as someone shows me how to get where I'm going the first time."

"Amazing! That could prove useful, I imagine. You'd know it if someone was going to try and stab you in the back."

Harry sensed that this was a sensitive subject for the Slytherin ghost, possibly the way that he'd died. "So, what's your real name?"

"Baron Alexander Dracul Malfoy."

Harry grinned. "You'd be related to this year's Mr. Malfoy, then?"

"I'm likely his ancestor, but since I died in 1783, it doesn't mean all that much." The ghost paused. "Not that I won't take him to task if he annoys me, but then I'd do that for any Slytherin. I believe that we all have a standard to maintain. Oh, by the way, if a certain poltergeist by the name of Peeves decides to come after you for any reason, tell me about it. The little beast is getting on a lot of nerves around here, never mind that we ghosts don't have them."

There were sudden screams from the Gryffindor table and Baron Malfoy chuckled. "People really should know better than to ask him what's meant by Nearly Headless Nick. The axe man missed by a bit. His head was left hanging on by just a bit of skin. Now, Mr. Potter, I'm sure your head of house, Professor Severus Snape, will assign someone to make sure you don't get lost your first few weeks. Personally, I'd recommend that last lad, Zabini. Well, have a good evening."

The scents at the table changed again as Baron Malfoy left, turning decidedly sweeter. Ice cream, apple pie, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding and so many others you'd never really be able to catalogue it had appeared on the tables. Conversation floated around him, never actually including him, which was okay with Harry. He was rather used to it as that was what usually happened at the orphanage.

Rather suddenly, a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's nose. "Ouch!" Harry let his shades slide downward a bit so he could grasp at the bridge of his nose.

"What is it?" asked Higgs.

"N-nothing."

The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. But Harry couldn't shake off the feeling that this didn't bode well for his future here. "Is someone looking at me up at the head table?"

"Professor Snape seems to be interested in you, but then he's our head of house. Professor Quirrel's got his back to you, so it wouldn't be him. Honestly, Potter, you've got the attention of the entire hall."

Harry grumbled. "Wonderful."

Draco sneered, "Is Potter not enjoying his celebrity?"

He snorted. "Hardly. I feel like a biology specimen in a museum." No one said anything about that. "So what does Professor Snape teach?"

Higgs answered him. "Potions, though I think he'd like the Dark Arts job. He'd do a better job of it than Quirrel at any rate."

At last, the desserts disappeared as well, and the hall went expectantly silent.

Professor Dumbledore spoke once again. "Ahem -- just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." There was a pause into which the Weasly twins could be heard to laugh. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madame Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry blinked behind his shades. "Is he serious?"

"He usually is about that sort of thing. Though he usually explains himself. Oh well."

"And now before we go to bed, let us sing the school song! Everyone pick their favorite tune and off we go!"

Harry had to plug his ears at first, with everyone using so many different tunes for the same song with different rhythms, tempos and keys battling with each other. Everyone finished at different times, leaving in the end only Fred and George, who had chosen a very slow funeral dirge. Harry had to laugh at their antics, nor was he the only one, though none of his housemates joined in.

With that, they were all sent to bed. The Slytherins followed their Prefect, who happened to be Terrence Higgs, to the Slytherin dorms, which were down in the dungeons. Harry had to be careful of the stairs, and he realized that the whole place was full of them. Higgs had promised him to tell him how to catch a moving staircase in the act later. They left the staircases for a corridor six flights down. Harry kept to the edge of the hallway and was keeping track of the route by counting doorways with his cane.

Two things happened at once; there was a sound of creaking metal and Malfoy shouted "Potter! Down!" Harry instinctively dropped into a crouch and tumbled forward, coming to his feet and spinning back around to meet the threat, both hands clutching the cane as if it were a staff. Then he heard the screeching clang of metal on stone.

"What is it?!"

Higgs said, "Armor suit. Don't worry, it's settled back down. Good reflexes, Potter. What were you doing that you touched it?"

"Counting doorways. I don't plan on getting lost. Are there any more of those things on our way?"

"No, he's the only one on this route. But I think this proves you're going to need a guide for a few weeks until you can get the main routes memorized. You should ask Professor Snape about it tomorrow."

They continued onward for two more doorways, and then they all stopped. Harry didn't feel a door there, only a blank stone wall. Higgs said in a clear voice, "Asphodel." Harry felt something shift and then he heard stone on stone as part of the wall pulled away. They all went inside. There was carpet on the floor, but that didn't really mask the stone sound of the echoes in the room. It felt like a comfortable little snake hole, and Harry grinned. There was a fireplace along one wall and torches along the others, giving the space a homey feel as well. Harry loved the crackle and smoke of a wood burning fireplace. He'd only had occasion to be in the presence of one once, when Todders was visiting the home of one of his relatives and had taken along several of the worst picked-upon young orphans with him so that they wouldn't be left to the mercy of the bullies while he was gone, and he'd fallen in love with it then. The cold just didn't suit him very well.

They were then led to a side door and into their dormitory. Harry's belongings had been placed next to the bed which was closest to the door, which suited Harry just fine, since it not only afforded him a quick escape route if he felt he needed one, but also gave him less opportunity to stumble if someone left something out on the floor. Hedwig was there, too, already asleep in her cage. She chirped sleepily at him when he reached in to pet her a bit, then started to ignore him, which he took to mean she'd gone back to sleep.

He knew that there were five other boys in here. Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Alex Nott and Blaise Zabini. They would be his room mates for the next seven years. He could only hope that they started to become friends after a time, though he would be firm on his requirement to Malfoy that he apologize to Ron Weasly, and he'd try and make sure that Ron accepted the apology. Otherwise it would just spark another fight.

Harry sat on the bed and felt his pocket slither again as Richard came out of it. Mindful of what the Weaslys had told him about his speech, he was quiet. Richard said, "I need to go hunting tonight, Harry." The blind boy nodded. "This will be a good place for you, Harry. I'll talk to you later after my meal has had a chance to digest a bit."

Harry was very quiet as he said, "Just remember, you get caught and I don't know you."

Richard chuckled and went on his way.

"Snakes aren't allowed as pets, you know."

"He's not my pet. He's my friend. Decided he wanted to travel and came with me. I warned him not to get caught. Who is this, by the way?"

"Sorry, I'm Blaise Zabini. So, how did the son of two Gryffindors end up in Slytherin house?"

"I didn't even know that they were Gryffindors. I was abandoned by the people Dumbledore originally left me with and all I've had for my entire life is their names. Sometimes I think I hear a woman singing a lullaby in my dreams, but I'm never sure I'm not just wishful dreaming. Thing is, I can't remember the words along with the tune, 'Greensleeves'."

"Well, I know that most of the others aren't sure what to make of you, Harry, and that's part of the reason. Another part is that a lot of the Slytherins' parents served You-Know-Who, and since you're the one that put an end to him, they'll be conflicted about it. But I wouldn't worry too much. They'll see you're worth knowing soon enough."

"I hope you're right. Otherwise it's going to be a long seven years."

"So, you're a Parselmouth? That's a very rare ability. A bit ironic, actually."

Harry smirked. "So I've heard." He sighed. "Well, dinner is catching up with me. I think I should get some sleep."

"Right. See you in the morning, Harry."

Harry just nodded. He took off his shades, his back turned to the other boys, and dressed for bed. The shades, cane and wand all rested next to each other on the nightstand, all a piece of who he was now.

Harry slept fitfully, dreaming that something was on his head, tightening with every breath he took. A whispery voice told him that he belonged to it now and there was no escape. A high, cold laugh seemed to ring in his ears. Harry jolted awake, listening carefully to the sounds of the room around him. But the only sounds that reached him were the snores of the other boys. He went back to sleep, and when he woke the next morning, he didn't remember the dream at all.

Well, there you have it. Again, I'd like to thank all of my reviewers for their wonderful comments! Now, we're having internet trouble around here still, and I won't always be able to post immediately after finishing and betaing my work. My Dad decided to switch to DSL from cable. This would have normally been a good thing, but something happened when he was working on it and the router is busted. So we're down to one connected computer in the whole house with five adults wanting to use it. I still work on the stories since they're on disk, but I'm never sure when I can post, so beware.

Review please!