Harry potter The Boy Who Remembers

Harry walked up to the stool while making theories as to how the hat sorted students. When Professor McGonagall put the hat on his head, he heard a quiet yet rich voice, "interesting, very interesting. Definitely, a difficult sorting that one, no preferences too, but with that mind, that talent, that thirst to understand how everything works, Rowena would have loved to have you as a student. You already figured out that I wasn't reading minds, and your theories are possible enchantments I could have had, but you're mistaken. You'll figure it out one day, of that, I am quite certain."

Harry didn't respond but was quite miffed that his theory was wrong. He'll just have to think on it further. The hat though, wasn't perturbed, "But is knowledge what you truly treasure, what is inside your core? Oh, you love it, the thrill of discovering something new, of understanding. But are you suitable for Rowena's house? Or do you treasure something even more?"

The last Potter remembered a promise he made to himself, 'I will not be nothing again. I will put my mark on the world, forge a legacy of my own, and be remembered in the annals of history.'

The hat released a deep chuckle, "Yes, for all your love of knowledge, this is your core. Your ambition burns brighter than the sun itself. Yes, better be, SLYTHERIN!"

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked towards the Slytherin table. When he sat at the table near the other first years, he took a look at the Professor's table.

Professor McGonagall had wide eyes and a small, disappointed frown. She probably expected him to join his parents' house or something. Albus Dumbledore didn't even clap, and Hagrid – who had sat on the far right – was grimacing slightly while clapping. What was the most interesting was the greasy haired man who looked like he swallowed a lemon. Guessing that it was Severus Snape, Harry assumed that whatever relationship there was between him, and Harry's parents wasn't an amicable one.

Harry didn't even notice his tie and vest turn green, as well as the hood of his cloak, which had a Slytherin badge on the left side of his chest. Harry just stayed silent, contemplating the ramifications of his new house.

Slytherin was known as the house of Death Eaters because Tom Riddle was reputed to be the heir of Slytherin. That meant that Harry was practically secluded from the rest of the houses. Honestly, he wasn't really bothered. He knew that he wasn't a bigot, and he rarely ever cared about the words of people who didn't know him. Although as the house which had won the house cup the last year, Slytherin students were allowed special privileges, which included special spell practice rooms and a later curfew, which was a plus.

The elephant in the room would be his new housemates. With blood status being a big deal in this house, it would make things difficult for him since he was a half-blood and his parents fought Voldemort, although, he didn't know if that was common knowledge or not.

There were rumours of house politics in Slytherin and Harry wasn't especially concerned with children and teenagers playing at being politicians. It would barely compare to the academic politics that he had to deal with at university in his previous life.

The sorting ended when Blaise Zabini was sorted in Slytherin and sat next to him. The headmaster got to his feet, silence fell upon the Great Hall. He beamed at the students, his arms opened wide and he spoke.

"Welcome!" he said. "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!"

Ignoring the nonsense, the man was spewing, Harry chose to focus on the headmaster. He was an obviously old man, with a long white beard, and half moon glasses. And yet, he didn't really look like a frail old man. He looked like a muggle on the verge of retirement, just with a large beard, old looking glasses, and ghastly coloured robes. These things were an eyesore.

And yet, considering that the enhanced lifespan of the average wizard was around a hundred and fifty years, Albus Dumbledore was probably around a hundred years old. Not that he knew it for a fact, it was guesswork.

Anyway, the elderly man sat down, and people clapped and cheered. A few first years smiled mockingly at the headmaster, but Harry knew better. No one had that many political positions and was senile. Whatever the headmaster had said wasn't just random world. They had meaning, if only for the man himself.

Still, when the food appeared on the table, he realized how hungry he was and started eating. Harry was never really starved at the Dursleys, but he rarely ate to his full, since he normally ate after Dudley who commonly asked for third servings.

Harry didn't speak to anyone while eating, too lost in his own head to care about the idle small talk the other students were spewing. At least Blaise ended up in the same house at him, so that was a familiar face, somewhat.

After everyone had eaten and the food was gone, Dumbledore stood up again and started what seemed like a regular speech, "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. 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 Madam Hooch."

Everything seemed to go smoothly until the man uttered that last sentence, "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."

Well, that was the stupidest thing Harry had ever heard. He should have simply warded the corridor and made it inaccessible. Curious students who would find the wards and be rejected would be the only ones to know that it was forbidden. But telling it in front of children, especially impressionable ones with no experience with magic would be like challenging them to come there, which could be very dangerous.

Well, that was a good start for Harry's magical education.

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