Chapter 3: Thinking

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Bold/Parsletongue
Third Person POV

Beta Reader: genderisirrelevant

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After the tour of the Slytherin Common Room, the dark trio went to bed, remembering their sorting. They weren't the only ones.

The Sorting Hat had been around since the day the first students were sorted. He remembered the cunning, ambitious Salazar Slytherin. He remembered the noble and brave Godric Gryffindor, and the wise Rowena Ravenclaw. He also remembered the hardworking, patient and loyal Helga Hufflepuff. He remembered sorting Tom Riddle, Albus Dumbledore, Sirius Black, Molly Weasley, and Bellatrix Black. He remembered everyone he had ever sorted. He knew some would become great, like Newt Scamander. He remembered the others, like Tom Riddle, who would become feared and would be powerful.

Yet, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley and Hadrian Potter were another case.He would never forget their sorting.

/Flashback/     ('' Only communicated between sorting hat and student.)

"Hermione Granger." The aging Transfiguration teacher stated.

A girl sat on the stool and Alistair was placed on her head.

"Hmm. You would do well in Ravenclaw. Definitely not Gryffindor." Alistair thought 'aloud' so the girl could hear.

He felt her bristle and she shot back with, "No thanks. What about Slytherin?"

"Yes, You would do well in Slytherin!" Alistair shouts the house out with his usual dramatics. He knew that she would do well in Slytherin. Yes, a wonderful placement. A few students later, up came Ronald Weasley.

"Don't even think about Gryffindor. I am not my family." The boy's 'voice' was filled with venom, and Alistair could see why. His memories were filled with abandonment and neglect, with only his two oldest siblings caring for him when they were around and the twins taking care of their brother.

"Yes, of course not. Hmm... You're not a Ravenclaw either..."

"Put me with 'Mione." The boy sounded shy and bashful. Awe, he has his first crush. Alistair may be only used once a year, but he did enjoy the occasional gossip. It got pretty boring sitting on a shelf collecting dust for the entire school year.

"Slytherin!" He bellowed. Yes, Ronald was well suited for Slytherin. He would thrive.

Alistair would prefer not to remember the Potter's sorting. While his threat was amusing, he didn't want to be used as a practicing dummy for the boy either.

- Dumbledore's Office, Current time -
Albus Dumbledore hadn't predicted that Harry Potter would be a Slytherin. He had always seen Harry as a Gryffindor, maybe a Hufflepuff as dreadful as the house was. Yet, he hadn't pictured Hadrian as a Slytherin. He didn't see him as a Ravenclaw, either. After all, he had the Dursley's beat the creativity out of him.

Nor did he see the youngest Weasley boy as a Slytherin. And a mudblood in Slytherin? Perhaps the old hat was just going barmy.

- Dungeons, Earlier -

Severus Snape was a bitter man. He hated James Potter with all his being. Their rivalry wasn't a big secret.

But, Severus was like a mother hen to his Slytherins. He occasionally watched out for the Hufflepuffs, who were typically the nicest house to his Slytherins. He protected his house from the prejudiced Gryffindors and the occasional Ravenclaw.

   Today, he would have to see that prat's son. He wasn't sure whether to hate the child because he had James Potter's blood running through him, or care for him because he was Lily's. He strutted into the Great Hall, his robes billowing behind him.

    Severus Snape hated sorting ceremonies. He had to see all the new dunderheads - except for his Slytherins, of course - he would have to teach. Potions was a subject that Severus nearly worshipped, and few students cherished it for the art it is.

   When you throw in a bunch of unskilled children who weren't fascinated with the subject, it was understandable why he was the most feared teacher of all time. Perhaps he shouldn't be a teacher, given how short his temper and patience was. It wasn't like Albus had given him much of a choice, though.

  "Harry Potter." McGonagall said, her voice filled with obvious awe. He didn't look forward to the spoiled prince being sorted into Gryffindor.

        Yet, when the Sorting Hat said Slytherin, Severus felt an unexplainable wave of pride. 'Hah, eat your heart out Potty.'

When Severus looked down, he saw her. He got a glimpse of her emerald green eyes. At that moment, he decided he liked the child. He had little looks of James. Harry Potter had sharp, acrostic features - which was concerning, considering the boy should still have baby fat on his cheeks - resembling the pureblood his father was. He had messy, untamed raven hair. Harry was very skinny, but tall for his age. He had her eyes. Yet, he had no other features of his mother.

Severus knew he was in for a long year. He was still processing what happened in the Great Hall earlier in his room, which was located in the dungeons. He fell asleep, not knowing what the year held.

- DADA Room -

Quirell was rushing around, preparing his room for tomorrow. He knew he couldn't let his lord down, especially not being so close to the answers.

"Are you done yet?" Voldemort asked, his voice impatient and annoyed.

"Yes, my Lord. I have everything prepared," Quirell replied quickly. Voldemort internally sighed at the obvious fear that controlled the man.

              Voldemort was contemplating how Potter got in Slytherin. Oh well, some things people would never ever know. Voldemort guessed it was one of those things. Voldemort went to sleep, still thinking about the boy with messy raven locks and emerald green eyes.

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