"Absolutely, Hermione. Once I got something out of me, I felt a lot better. Who are your friends?"
"These are the two kids I was telling you about earlier. This is Pam Turner (1) whose cat we were looking for…"
"Hi," she said, stroking a black and white furball.
"Hello," Harry replied sincerely. Harry never truly remembered his sorting all that well, he couldn't place all the kids no matter how hard he tried. But one thing was for certain: Pam Turner was never in Gryffindor.
"And this is Edward Gallandro (1) ." He waved and Harry replied in kind. "They both came in a few minutes ago telling me they finally found Pam's cat. Isn't that wonderful?"
"Sure," Harry responded, taking a seat next to Edward, a dark-haired boy whose hair was cut short over two brown eyes. His thin lips weren't smiling as he took everything in. Harry had seen that look before. He'd need to talk a few things over with Edward before the year was out, one way or another.
"We were just talking about the houses at Hogwarts," Hermione supplied.
"I don't like Slytherin," Edward finally said.
"Really?" Harry's eyebrow shot up. "Why's that?"
"They wear green and silver trim on their robes. It is too girly." The way he said it - so matter-of-factly, Harry couldn't help himself and he started laughing.
When he finally stopped, Harry looked at Edward and stated, "You speak your mind. I like you."
"And what's wrong with being a girl?" Pam finally said, eyes narrowing towards Edward.
And that set off another debate on how Edward didn't want to be a girl, but he loved his mother and sister dearly. Harry noticed he didn't say anything about his father.
"So, Harry, what house do you think we'll be in?" Hermione asked.
Harry remembered quite a bit about his first year in Hogwarts the first time around. Amazing what a madman with a penchant to want to kill you could make him remember. The lousy hat had wanted to put him into Slytherin before he'd argued (more like pleaded) to not be placed there. Then he was placed in Gryffindor. At the time it was right for him.
But now?
Now was different. For one thing, he was pretty sure that Neville was going to Gryffindor and the last thing he wanted was to spend the next seven years sleeping in the same room at that prat. Or have to listen to Ron snore with that bellow set of lungs of his. Still, he didn't want to leave his friend alone with that sort of crowd if he could help it.
Ravenclaw? Certainly he was smarter than any of the other incoming first years, but he didn't have a love to devour a book. It was more a necessary chore rather than a love of books. He did it because he needed to, not because he wanted to. If he could, he'd rather read a nice fiction book like he used to back in his primary school. Textbooks were so dry.
That left Hufflepuff. Only, did he consider himself Hufflepuff material? He was certainly loyal, but not like he used to be. His loyalties were mostly to himself and what he considered important. Sure the school was important, but he wasn't loyal like he had once been. Harry was certain that there was no way he could summon Fawkes like he had during his second year. He wasn't that loyal to Hogwarts or Dumbledore. He was loyal to his family because they were inside his definition of what was important to be loyal to. Hogwarts Express? Outside. Leon (knucklehead that he was): inside. McGonagall? Outside, but nearly in. Flitwick? Same. Binns? Outside. Sirius, Remus, dad? All inside.
Hermione? Inside. He quickly thought of his friend. He'd missed her over the past year and wanted her back. He had a chance to set something right with her. But that still didn't answer her question.
"Harry? I'm sorry if I'm pestering you for answers. You don't have to tell me, that's all right," she stated, getting up.
Harry put his hand over hers, motioning for her to sit back up. "I don't think you're pestering me, Hermione. I was just thinking how I wanted to answer your question. My parents were both in Gryffindor."
"So you want to be in Gryffindor then?" Hermione asked in genuine curiosity.
"Not if I have to deal with Neville Longbottom for seven years, I don't. And since his parents' are from Gryffindor as well, I'm thinking that's where he wants to go."
"So then which of the other houses holds your interest?" Pam asked, curious.
"I'm really not sure. There's pros and cons to every house.
"Remember, Harry," Edward continued, "silver and green are girly colors. Blue, I'm not so sure about, red and gold are good."
Harry grinned at his new friend and nodded. "I think I'll just let the hat decide."
"Hat?" Hermione's face took on a very confused look like she was trying to connect the dots logically from A to B to C but suddenly dot B fell under the wheels of the Express and got sliced up on the way to Bath or Bristol.
"A living hat - kinda. It's how you get sorted into a house. The staff puts a hat on our heads that is sentient. The hat then proceeds to rifle through your head and figures out which of the houses is best for you."
"A hat that reads your mind?" Hermione was aghast. "I'm not sure I like something that can read my mind."
"Tell me about it," Harry commiserated. "I went about learning occulmancy so I wouldn't have anything but my own thoughts going through my head and here I have to let this hat have free access."
Hermione wasn't sure what occulmancy was but was sure it wouldn't be too hard when she got around to learning it herself. After all, if a boy her own age could learn it, she was certain she could too. At most it would take… what… a couple weeks? She'd have to ask Harry about it later.
"You're serious, right? A hat. That's all the test is: a personality quiz given by a hat?" Pam asked, wanting to make sure she wasn't getting pranked.
"Yup. Pretty much."
....
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