Harry Potter's Pen Pal

Chapter Thirteen

Harry didn't bother sitting down at the Gryffindor table. He didn't gawk at the floating jack-o-lanterns and bats. He didn't listen to the loud, excited conversations at the four tables. He just marched right up to Dumbledore with Neville beside him and twins behind him, standing like bodyguards.

Dumbledore looked up as he approached, and a mixture of apprehension and anger appeared on his face.

"Headmaster," he said over the noise, "I'd like to say something to the Hall."

A fake grandfatherly look appeared on his face. "I'm sure it can wait until after-"

"Nearly-Headless Nick has invited Fred, George, Neville and I to his deathday party," Harry interrupted smoothly, "and if we wait until after the feast, we'll miss it. I want to do this now."

The headmaster pursed his lips for a moment, then said, "Very well." He stood, causing the Hall to fall mostly silent. "Harry Potter would like to speak to you all," he announced.

Harry rolled his eyes as he turned. 'Say something' and 'speak to' was not the same thing.

"As Lord and Heir of Gryffindor," he said loudly, "I demand that Fred and George Weasley, Neville Longbottom and I be re-sorted."

There was a rumble from the building, and then the Sorting Hat and its stool suddenly appeared in front of the teachers' table. Dumbledore was already scowling.

Whispers and shouts echoed from the students and Harry turned to McGonagall and raised an eyebrow. She was looking stunned.

"Professor McGonagall," he prompted when she didn't move.

She shook herself and stood as a scroll appeared in front of her. "Longbottom, Neville," she said loudly, silencing the whispers.

Neville bit his lip, and Harry cast him an encouraging look. Relaxing, the boy walked over to the Sorting Hat, sat down, and put it on.

There was a long pause, and then the Hat shouted, "Hufflepuff!"

The Hufflepuff table cheered eagerly as Neville put down the Hat and rushed over to their table.

"Potter, Harry." And the Hall went silent again.

Harry stalked over to the Hat, his head held high, making sure to walk like a pureblood. He heard whispers as he sat down and put on the Hat.

"Well, hello again, Harry," said the Hat. "Ready to go to your true House?"

"Definitely, Alistair," Harry replied out loud with a smirk.

"No one's called me by my name since Merlin's time," Alistair said in a happy but shaky voice. "Well, except dear Luna..."

"Lovegood?"

"Yes, her. She'll be very helpful to your plans," Alistair added. "And she'll be a very good friend."

"I'll think about it," Harry mused.

"Good. SLYTHERIN!" the Hat bellowed.

Harry got up to the loudest silence he'd ever heard. Then the Slytherins began yelling, most in glee, but some in anger.

He smiled maliciously at the Hall before stalking over to the Slytherin table and sitting beside Draco, who grinned at him.

"Weasley, Fred," McGonagall said in a faint voice that was barely heard over the Slytherin's shouts.

Fred squared his shoulders and walked over to the Hat.

"Why are you Sorting him again?" Ron Weasley demanded loudly. "He's a Weasley! We all get sorted into-"