Hogwarts School, Great Hall3rd Person POV
The vibrant and chattering students in the hall went almost silent as many turned to look at the young boy, while others' voices became a whisper. They knew whose name had just been called — the boy who had recently become very famous, temporarily becoming even more talked about than the Boy Who Lived.
Alex Mercer was the boy who had lived in Azkaban for four years and was joining Hogwarts this year as a first-year. Alex did not look around, but he could feel the many gazes that had landed on him. He looked at Professor McGonagall, who was looking at him, and started walking to the stool, knowing that whichever house he was sorted into would shape and shift many people's opinions of him.
He walked to the stool and sat on it as Professor McGonagall placed the hat on his head. Immediately he heard a voice in his head. It wasn't trying to break his Occlumency or anything — it was simply there enough to talk. It sounded amused.
'I see. You are one of the rare breed,' it said in Alex's mind. 'The type who starts learning Occlumency very early. Not the first time I have seen it — and just like the others, at this age it is like a paper wall. So would you mind opening it so I can sort you into the right house?'
Alex did not want to open his mind to the hat, but he also needed to be sorted into a house. The voice started talking in his mind again.
'It seems you don't trust me. If it helps — you can limit the amount of memories you wish to show, with the minimum being one year.'
'And as for confidentiality — when I was made, the four Founders knew that many families would not like their children read like open books. So they made rules. I can only share the most basic information with anyone — not headmasters, not even the four Founders themselves without all four agreeing. The only exceptions are kidnapping, trafficking, or a student who has become truly dangerous to themselves or others. Not a student with unusual ideas. Truly dangerous.'
A small book fell from the hat into Alex's lap. Both the staff and students had gone silent and shocked, as such a thing had never happened before — or at least not within the memory of anyone present. McGonagall picked up the book and was immediately stunned by its title.
It was the rumoured Ironbound Rules — said to have been made by the four Founders to establish rules that even they could not break without each other's agreement, and over which even headmasters had no authority.
She looked up at the staff table, where Dumbledore was sitting with a calm and attentive face. He nodded at her, but if you looked closely, he too had a small frown.
She gave the book to Alex, who opened it. The front page carried four signatures — the signatures of the four Founders. He opened the relevant section of rules. After he had read them, the book turned into magical particles and disappeared.
Alex decided to open his Occlumency enough and allowed the hat to view his memories of the past four years, beginning a few days after he had woken up in Azkaban.
The hat was silent for a few minutes. Then the voice of the Sorting Hat sounded in Alex's mind once again.
'You are the most mature and strongest child I have sorted in my centuries of work. You are very critical of wizards and wizarding society both. You also have revolutionary ideas that most would call dangerous. But it is not my job to judge — it is not my function.'
'You have both loyalty and a thirst for knowledge, which makes you suitable for both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. You also possess courage and daring, making you more suitable for Gryffindor. But it is your burning ambition that makes Slytherin the perfect house for you.'
'Not Slytherin,' said Alex, which made the hat question him.
'Why do you not want to go to Slytherin? It is the perfect house for you.'
'Slytherin is supposed to be the house of ambition, cunning, and determination. But look at the current situation — they are obsessed with blood purity and have no place for true ambition. So is that really true? Is it really the house for ambition?'
This made the Sorting Hat pause before it said, 'You are right. The current situation of Slytherin is not what Salazar had originally intended — but it is what it has become because of recent decades and the current condition of wizarding society. I only do what I am supposed to: sort children. As you have requested not to be sorted into Slytherin, the most appropriate house would be Gryffindor.'
Alex thought about this and said, 'I have a request.'
'I have spent four years in Azkaban. Even though I was later proved to be an innocent person, I will carry this stigma for a long time. There will be many who won't believe me and will assume the worst. It might help my situation if, when you announce my house, you also announced the qualities that led you there.'
The Sorting Hat was silent for a few seconds. Then it laughed — loudly, in Alex's mind.
'Salazar would have been proud of you. Most people want to hide their nature, and you are asking me to announce yours to an entire hall. You are the most interesting student I have sorted in centuries — possibly in my entire existence. Since you grant me the permission, I am happy to help.'
Meanwhile, all the students and some of the staff had started whispering about the anomaly. Although rare, it was not the first time the hat had taken so long to sort — but the main point of conversation was the book that had appeared and disappeared, and the fact that the one who had caused this was also quite famous.
The Sorting Hat moved — not much, but enough to make everyone pay attention. Every head in the hall turned toward it. Then in a loud but slower than usual voice it announced:
"You have ambition. You have loyalty. You have a thirst for knowledge. But above all — your courage burns bright."
Then, with a very small pause, it announced:
"GRYFFINDOR."
For a moment the hall was silent. Then the Gryffindor table burst with cheers and applause. They seemed delighted, though you could see a few scattered faces at the table who did not seem happy in the slightest. On the other tables, the number of students whispering and discussing had risen sharply. Alex could see many Slytherins and a few Ravenclaws giving disappointed and even contemptuous looks.
Alex took off the hat and handed it to Professor McGonagall, who had a professionally neutral expression — though the slight upward curve of her lips was visible. Alex walked to the Gryffindor table.
Alex POV
I sat down next to Hermione and Neville and within seconds found myself flanked on both sides by two identical red-haired boys.
"Hi," said the one on my left. "I'm Fred."
"Hi," said the one on my right, at exactly the same moment. "I'm George."
"We are the best Gryffindor has to offer," said Fred.
"Arguably the best Hogwarts has to offer," said George.
"We're being modest," said Fred.
Several people nearby made noises of disagreement as the twins continued with their theatrics.
"You made quite the scene just now," said Fred.
"The book thing," said George. "What was that?"
"We heard you were in Azkaban," said Fred. "Is it—"
"Fred," said George. "Let him breathe. Here." He produced a small wrapped sweet from somewhere and offered it with a smile.
I took it and put it in my pocket. You never know what they had added to it.
"Are you Ron's brothers?"
"Ron is our dear little brother," said George.
"He doesn't appreciate us nearly enough," said Fred, with theatrical sorrow.
"It's a tragedy," George agreed.
The sorting continued around us. Harry's name was called and the hat spent a slightly longer time on his head than average before declaring Gryffindor, and the table erupted again. He came and sat with us. Ron followed shortly after — the hat barely touched his head before calling Gryffindor — and he settled in beside Harry.
I looked at the staff table while the rest of the sorting finished.
Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall were sitting more composed and professional than I had ever seen them before. Alongside them sat an old, chubby woman with grey hair — exactly the image of a kind lady — who was the Head of Hufflepuff and caretaker of the greenhouses: Pomona Sprout. Other staff members were sitting there too, most of whom I could not easily identify and did not particularly care to, except perhaps Sybill Trelawney — and the three who actually warranted my genuine interest and caution.
First was Severus Snape. Greasy black hair, a constant frown, dark robes. The youngest Potions Master of the past century, a Dark Arts master, and also a master of Occlumency and Legilimency. He was also the most dangerous person here on a day-to-day basis, because I would encounter him more than the other two — I would be in his class regularly. He was also easy to make suspicious.
Second was Quirinus Quirrell. Purple turban, thin frame, nervous expression. He was dangerous not because of himself but because of the one sharing his skull. He was not as immediately dangerous as Snape, as the Dark Lord was weak currently and would be lying low — though during the battle at the end of the year he would definitely be more dangerous than Snape. But I only had to deal with him this year, and then not again until the resurrection. He too knew Occlumency and Legilimency, but would not be using it much in his current state.
Third was the one who warranted my most caution, as he might be the most useful or the most dangerous depending on how things developed. Albus Dumbledore. Purple robes, pointed hat, silver beard, half-moon glasses. Those who saw him for the first time thought of him as harmless — but I knew better. A master of Occlumency, Legilimency, Transfiguration, and Alchemy. The greatest wizard of the past century. A man whose living philosophy was controlling others and deciding what was best for everybody and arranging it accordingly.
I was still thinking when I was pulled back by a pained sound from Harry, who was clutching his forehead — or more precisely, his scar. I looked toward the staff table and saw that both Snape and Quirrell were looking at Harry, though Quirrell quickly moved his gaze. Snape kept looking for a while before moving his gaze away.
I heard someone calling my name and turned to look at Hermione.
"Alex." Hermione looked very curious and probably had a long list of questions she wanted to ask. "What was that book? What did you and the hat talk about? Why did it take so long? I know it sometimes takes longer — I heard that Professor McGonagall took longer than usual too, and I took more time than usual too, but you took longer than anything I've heard about..."
"Hermione," I said. She stopped talking and looked at me.
"Let me answer," I said calmly. Around us, I knew many were listening without looking directly in my direction. Harry, Ron, and Neville were looking directly at me. "The book is called the Ironbound Rules. The four Founders made it for rules that even they couldn't break without unanimous agreement. I was curious whether the hat could see everything in our minds and whether it reported such things to anybody."
I did not need to look at the nearby faces to know they were frowning. I continued. "The book confirmed that what happens under the hat stays there, with very limited exceptions. The sorting took longer because we talked, and it gave me the choice of choosing my house, and I chose Gryffindor."
I could feel that all the frowns — caused by thinking for the first time about the implications of a mind-reading hat — were smoothed out by knowing that a confidentiality clause existed in the rules. Many gazes also became more kind and friendly at the fact that I had chosen Gryffindor.
3rd Person POV
Slowly the feast came to an end and the food disappeared. Dumbledore rose and first welcomed the students — new and returning — with his usual warmth.
Then he introduced the Hogwarts staff to the new students, including Quirrell, who had moved from Muggle Studies to become the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.
Then he noted several things to avoid — the Forbidden Forest, the common rules and regulations of Hogwarts — and warned them not to wander the third-floor corridor if they did not want to die a gruesome death.
He then led the hall in a slightly chaotic rendition of the school song before sending everyone off to their dormitories.
Percy Weasley, Gryffindor prefect, collected the first-years. He led them up through the castle — portraits watching from their frames, staircases shifting underfoot — up through Gryffindor Tower to the portrait of the Fat Lady, who greeted them with considerable warmth.
Percy gave the password. The portrait swung open.
The common room was big, circular, and warm, adorned with red and gold everywhere — the upholstery, the curtains, the tapestries. A large fireplace dominated one wall, flanked by bookshelves and a portrait of a lion. The windows looked out over the grounds and the dark edges of the Forbidden Forest.
Percy stopped them in the centre of the room and delivered his instructions: wake up before seven, prefects would lead the morning tour of the castle, look at the class schedules on the notice board before leaving the common room. Dormitory assignments were posted. Anything else, come to him.
Alex looked at the notice board, where he found his dormitory number and that he shared it with Harry, Ron, Neville, and Seamus Finnigan. Along with Harry and Ron he entered the dormitory. There were five four-poster beds with deep red curtains, stone walls hung with tapestries, and a window looking out over the grounds. Their trunks and bags were already sitting at the sides of the beds.
Neville arrived soon after, then Seamus — a boy with a cheerful face, sandy-coloured hair, and a distinct Irish accent. Introductions were made. Seamus was good-natured, easy-going, and curious. He was quite surprised to find he would be sharing a room with two such famous people, and was very curious about both Alex's and Harry's lives.
Both Seamus and Neville felt sad and looked down after hearing about the two boys' hard lives. Then Neville also told how, similar to Harry, his great-uncle had almost pushed him to the point of harm many times trying to force him to show signs of magic, as they feared he was a Squib because they had never seen any.
Then Ron told them that although he had not been abused like that, he had many brothers and a sister and a very strict mother, and was never alone and always being bothered — but they were fine, all things considered.
Compared to everyone present, Seamus had the best life — good and ordinary. In fact, he had not known magic existed before his mother revealed it to him after the Hogwarts letter arrived.
They continued to talk. One particular incident that Seamus described did catch Alex's attention. From a very early age, as long as Seamus could remember, things would sometimes catch fire around him — and there was also the time when a gas canister explosion almost burned his house down. At the time, his parents had told him he had been dreaming, as his house was fine, but now he knew that they had used magic to repair everything.
The conversation drifted. Someone produced a deck of Exploding Snap cards. Neville had Chocolate Frogs. The evening found its level, the way evenings did when five people were put in a room together and left to manage themselves, and by the time the candles had burned down everyone was comfortable enough to sleep. One by one, every one of them went to sleep.
Everybody in Alex's dormitory slept. What nobody knew was that some people were having a very sleepless night.
In the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore sat thinking deeply, but his concentration was broken as someone entered — robes fluttering like a bat.
Before Snape could say anything, Dumbledore got up.
"I know why you are here," he said.
Both Dumbledore and Snape looked at the Sorting Hat sitting on the shelf.
*****
I am planning to write a auxiliary chapter. If you have any questions or if you have any suggestions or criticism about writing quality and uploading consistency, do write them in paragraph comments.