MetaFic

1 Sep 1991

Harry had watched passively as all his friends were sorted, though he was sure that Michael and Hermione would be two peas in a pod inside Ravenclaw. Given how they had gradually retreated into their own world while poring over Michael's books on the train, that really should have come as no surprise. They almost seemed to be kindred spirits at some fundamental level. The only real surprise had been how long Hermione had sat under the hat before it finally sorted her.

“Potter, Harry!”

Harry walked up the stool, unconcerned for what would happen. Rampant whispers broke out among most of the students, though Seamus and Neville were both watching him expectantly from the very end seats at the Gryffindor table. Ignoring it all, Harry sat upon the stool, and everything became black when the hat was dropped over his head, fully enveloping his vision.

“Hmmm, most interesting. Talent, bravery, and a sharp cunning mind. It's odd to find no desire to prove yourself despite what you carry. Such an interesting mix; it's quite unexpected. Yes, where shall I place you . . .”

With Seamus, of course, Harry thought firmly.

“With your Foster brother, eh? There's no 'of course' to it, you know.”

Well, you did ask where to place me, and that's where I'd rather be.

“You're sure? You really could be great in any of the Houses, you know . . . it's all right there in your head. No? Then it had better be GRYFFINDOR.”

As Harry headed over to sit next to Seamus, the applause was quite loud, though particularly thunderous at the Gryffindor table. It felt as though they were cheering him on for walking in a straight line, given how little they knew of him. The two redheads who had taken the heat for the snake episode back at the station began capering in a jig, chanting, “We got Potter! We got Potter!” over and over.

Seamus caught his eye as Harry finally sat down, and they both traded a sharp look. Neville groaned quietly before muttering, “At least wait until the Sorting's done!”

“Why, Neville,” Seamus whispered back, “whatever is the matter?”

“You're going to do something, aren't you?”

“Of course,” Harry offered with a grin. “I'm going to eat my dinner and then have dessert. How about you, Seamus?”

“Dessert sounds good to me,” Seamus agreed blandly. As the sorting continued, Harry looked around at the faces of all the students and professors – most of whom were watching him and not the other activities. His scar flared into a sharp pain a few times as he made eye contact with some of the faculty, but he just noted it for future thinking. It was not the first time, but it was the most painful he could recall it ever being. At the moment, he was mostly interested in actually having dinner. He was happy when the sorting was finally over, as it meant the time for food was nigh.

As Harry finally began to enjoy the food after it appeared, he took stock of the people around him.  Two Indian girls whom he thought were named Padma and Parvati were just down the table from them. They were busily talking to two other girls, but they all kept glancing at Harry from time to time. For that matter, many of the girls and boys were glancing at him as they were eating and talking. While his Foster carers had warned him to expect this very thing, it still made it no more palatable to experience.

“They'll get over it,” Neville suddenly spoke up. “Don't pay them any mind.”

Harry looked back at his friend and nodded slowly. “Yeah, I guess. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, really.”

“What's the point waiting, when there's other stuff we can be doing?” Seamus nodded pointedly back toward the redheads, who had moved on and were now animatedly discussing something else. They were sitting across from another boy, and between bites the three of them seemed to be holding down a large moving object with a few too many legs waving about.

“They won't know why anymore, though,” Harry pointed out.

“Served cold, right?” Seamus offered. “After a few days, they'll figure it out.”

“Right, unless they're stupid. Which one do you want?” Harry asked back.

Neville groaned and buried his head in his hands. Seamus, however, just nodded to the one on their side of the table.

“Lizards this time, eh?” Harry suggested. Seamus grinned, and then they both carefully pulled their wands under the table. Concentrating, Harry murmured, “Lacertortia!” and faintly heard Seamus doing the same.

Almost immediately, the two redheads jumped to their feet and let out a common cry of distress. Concurrently a giant tarantula escaped onto the top of the table and began running pell-mell toward the Head Table. The resulting disaster as students yelled, scrambled away from the table, and overturned dishesto a wave of chaos spreading out from where the twins had been sitting.

Seamus and Harry traded wide grins as the giant tarantula scuttled onto the neighboring Ravenclaw table and the discord spilled over along with it. The twins were in the process of ripping their trousers down, but everyone else was too focused on the other events to notice.

As one tiny professor rose and moved purposefully to deal with the arachnid situation, the professor who had Sorted them descended upon the twins, her face a rictus of displeasure. “Why d'you think they're all blaming those two?” Seamus asked, jerking his head toward the redheads, who were pulling their trousers back up while being lectured by McGonagall.

“Dunno,” Neville said. “Seems odd everyone just assumed they caused the problem. They're not even looking for another source.”  Neville chuckled softly before whispering across the table, “You guys completely lucked out. I thought for sure you'd get detentions.”

Seamus grinned back and nudged Harry briefly. The chaos was mostly over, and everyone was returning to their seat but the redheads. The two brothers were following McGonagall out of the Great Hall, likely to be given a lecture that should have been delivered to Harry and Seamus.

“I still can't get them to appear except right in front of me,” Neville said after a moment.

“It's all in the concentration, Neville,” Harry told him, reaching for an edible dessert. “I beat Seamus yesterday and got one almost twenty feet.”