Choices and Consequences

The returning students filed into Hogwarts' Great Hall full of the usual chatter that accompanies large groups of youngsters, as they caught up with friends they had not met on the train and exchanged stories of their summer holidays. The Hall seemed its usual welcoming self, with the ceiling displaying the last vestiges of the sunset on this late September evening.

Luna detached herself from the Gryffindors and headed over to the Ravenclaw table, where she sat looking around her at the students and admiring the ceiling, not paying much attention to the other Ravenclaws that were settling in around her at the table.

Meanwhile, Harry and the others made their way to their customary spot about halfway along the Gryffindor table and speculated about the identity of the latest Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, and the extent to which Dumbledore would give any clues to the wider student population about the prophecy.

As the teachers began to file in, in dribs and drabs as the student body settled itself down, a number of students' eyes turned towards the head table, largely to see if there were any new faces, though they expected to see at least one, to replace Dolores Umbridge.

There were a few surprised faces when a number of those paying attention actually recognised the new Professor as he made his way from a side door across to the dais where the teachers' table was situated.

"It's that Silverwood bloke!" yelped a startled Hufflepuff second year. "The one who stood against Fudge for Minister!"

The Hall broke out into another hubbub as this information was disseminated and further speculation started up about what this would mean for Defence against the Dark Arts classes. Harry could hear Lavender Brown explaining to the Creevey brothers further down the table about the election.

Julius Silverwood simply raised an eyebrow at the commotion that his presence had caused, and strolled along the dais, taking a seat between Professor Flitwick and Madam Pomfrey, who immediately engaged him in conversation.

Ron and Hermione started bickering about how bad the previous five years worth of Defence Professors had been, though Harry did have to interject to remind them that Remus had been pretty good in third year and that even if Barty Crouch Junior had been a Death Eater, he did at least do a good job teaching the subject.

Hermione embarrassed Harry by suggesting that he'd personally done a better job of teaching Defence than any of the other three Professors, though on reflection Harry thought that it was faint praise: what they'd learned from Lockhart and Umbridge in particular could have been written on a postage stamp. Any further discussion of Harry continuing the DA to compensate for any deficiencies in the official classes was prevented by the arrival of Professor McGonagall who led in the first years to be sorted.

As usual, the far end section of each House's table, nearest the dais where the teachers table oversaw the hall, had been left vacant for the new first years to occupy. Harry wondered whether this was the right thing to do: after all, the newcomers would have endless questions and would need guidance, so he was surprised that they weren't interspersed among the older students. On the other hand though, they might be better off in a small group, where they would probably make, or have already made, one or two friends rather than being intimidated by sitting next to older students that they didn't even know.

Harry remembered his own first night at Hogwarts, where he'd ended up sat between Percy and Ron at the Gryffindor table. As on that night, the fifth year prefects sat at the end closest to the newcomers, and would be responsible for seeing them safely to their common room and dormitory after the meal.

The Hall quietened down as McGonagall led the first years up to the front of the hall, next to the lines of empty seats, to where the Sorting Hat sat atop a three-legged stool.

As the room became silent, the Hat began the latest version of its annual rhyme.

The founders of this ancient school

When they became estranged

Imbued me with the power to think

So you could be arranged.

By strength or skill or family tie

I've split you all four ways

The way the founders wanted you

Since their own Hogwarts days.

The noble, brave, to Gryffindor

Where courage prospers best

Inquisitive? To Ravenclaw

Who'll put you to the test.

Hufflepuff for loyal and true

Friends never see you wrong

Where wiles and cunning all exist

In Slytherin you belong.

But hear me now and hear me true

It's not how best you're aided

United stand, divided fall

As History has fated.

There's one among you, proud and true

Support with all your might

His choice will yet determine if

The world will see the light.

So stand together, fight as one

Behind you leave last year

If you can all contribute then

There's naught for you to fear.

To those who sit: I've sorted you,

But you must take this on

And as you do, please understand

That you too should be one

I told you this twelve months ago

My warning went unheeded

It seems as though, for now at least,

A Sorting Hat's not needed.

With those final words out of the tear in its brim, the ragged old hat lifted itself into the air and vanished, leaving Professor McGonagall standing open-mouthed in front of the school, no doubt wondering what in the world to do.

The whole Hall turned to Professor Dumbledore for an explanation, and although his expression was typically serene, Harry thought he must have been as surprised by this development as everybody else in the room, and after a momentary silence, the Hall burst with loud conversation.

The first years who had been stood waiting to be sorted were pretty bemused, and not a little frightened. Some of them must have been aware of the Sorting Hat from their parents or from older siblings, and they were the ones that were already discussing it with their new-found friends, but many stood there with uncomprehending stares, as they waited to see what happened next.

"Quiet please!" Dumbledore's voice rose above the excited babble to address the Hall. With a wave of his wand, the vacant ends of the House tables detached themselves and re-arranged crossways as one separate table at the front of the Hall, spanning the width of all four of the House tables.

This led to some slight discomfort, as those who had been leaning across the empty places at their table suddenly found themselves without anything to support themselves on, and there were a few moments of confusion as they re-positioned themselves, especially those that had fallen to the ground. No one was hurt, although they found themselves the butt of laughter from their contemporaries.

"Minerva, could you come back to the staff table please," Dumbledore suggested. "First years, please find a seat at the front table and we'll prepare to begin the Feast.

"Before we tuck in though, I have a few brief announcements to make," he continued above the gentle clatter of the first years settling themselves at the newly arranged front table.

"Firstly, I must remind all students," he said with a glance across at the Gryffindor table, "that the Forbidden Forest remains out of bounds to all students for their own safety."

Ron leaned across to Harry and muttered that it wasn't as though they ever had much choice in the matter, but leaned back at Hermione's glare.

"Secondly, I'm aware that there are a number of vacancies on the House Quidditch teams, so please see your respective Quidditch Captain for details of when tryouts will be held.

"Also, I would like to introduce Professor Silverwood, who will be this year's Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher." Modest applause greeted Silverwood's introduction as he nodded to the Hall and to Dumbledore in recognition. Harry thought he saw the tips of the new Professor's moustached rise slightly as his lips curled up in a smile, but from where he sat he wasn't entirely sure, and the gesture looked odd.

"Professor Silverwood has worked extensively with the Ministry Aurors over the last twenty years as an expert in forensic work and spell tracking, so he has a deep knowledge of fighting the Dark Arts to share with you," the Headmaster continued.

Harry noted that Dumbledore didn't make any reference to Silverwood's involvement in the recent election for Minister, but suspected that it was a deliberate omission to spare any further outbursts about Silverwood's political agenda.

"Finally, I have great pleasure in announcing that all Educational Decrees issued by the Ministry of Magic in the past twelve months have been revoked, and-"

Dumbledore didn't get any further. A roar of approval sounded across the Hall from the vast majority of the students, though it sounded pretty muted from the Slytherin table. He allowed a few minutes for the noise to die down and everyone to settle again before continuing.

"As, I said, the Educational Decrees have been revoked and the post of Hogwarts Inquisitor has also been abolished. Therefore, those who served in erstwhile Headmistress Umbridge's so-called "Inquisitorial Squad" will find that any authority they held has also been revoked."

Ron sneered across at Malfoy over on the Slytherin table at this and received a hate-filled glare in return from the blond-haired boy, before Harry kicked him under the table.

"Don't go aggravating Malfoy, Ron," he admonished. "We don't really want to have to suffer his presence any more than necessary, and if you keep winding him up, he'll be spending all day trying to get back at us."

"You're a fine one to talk," Ron replied, "after what you did to him on the train."

"Harry didn't seek him out to confront him, though Ron," Hermione pointed out. "Malfoy started it.

Across the table Neville rolled his eyes at the three of them.

"This isn't about who started what, Hermione," he began, before hurriedly explaining further when she glared at him. "If we stay out of Malfoy's way, we won't have to deal with him - that way he won't have the opportunity to start anything anyway. That's what Harry meant in the first place."

Hermione went quiet, but nodded her acceptance of Neville's point.

"Thanks Neville. That's exactly what I meant," Harry added. "So, Ron, please just ignore Malfoy. It'll make life so much easier for all of us."

Ron grumbled a little, but suddenly realised that Dumbledore had allowed the feast to begin, since the table had filled with steaming piles of food and everyone around him was eating, and helped himself to a plateful of sausages and mashed potato, lapsing into silence for the remainder of the meal.

As the meal drew to a close and the chatter built up, Professor McGonagall and the other Heads of House started handing out timetables for the year's classes. Classes would start the next day, given that it was a Monday, and Harry was pleased to note that with his reduced class load he had a fair few free periods. He assumed that he'd be spending most of those training with John, Moody or Gaarder though, rather than lazing around in bed or in the Gryffindor common room.

He also noted that the NEWT-level classes were scheduled to go on as late as 6 o'clock in the evening, which he hadn't appreciated before. Given the number of different electives possible, presumably it was the only way to ensure that each NEWT class was able to meet for three hours a week.

It looked as though his busiest day, NEWT-wise, would be Monday, when he had double Potions at nine o'clock and Double Defence against the Dark Arts at a quarter to three, four hours of classes in total. His least busy day would be Friday, where he only had a single lesson of Transfiguration scheduled.

"What are these asterisks for then?" Ron asked

Hermione scanned down the timetable to the bottom, where a brief note explained the oddities that surrounded the class schedule.

"It says here that those are times when the sixth years that are going to re-take their Astronomy OWL can join the fourth and fifth year classes, to catch up on their revision," she informed him.

"So, have you decided whether you're going to re-take, Hermione?" Harry asked her.

"I decided not to, in the end," Hermione admitted. "I got "Exceeds Expectations" anyway, and I thought it was more important that I concentrated on my NEWTs now, like you said."

Harry turned to the other sixth year Gryffindors and asked around to see if anyone else was planning to join him in re-taking Astronomy. Neville and Parvati had both already decided that they were going to since, like Harry, they had failed, but Ron, Seamus, Dean and Lavender had all scraped "Acceptable" in their OWL, and were happy enough with that result, though none of the Gryffindors were planning to take a NEWT in the subject.

As it turned out, all the Gryffindors seemed fairly happy with their timetables, though Hermione was clearly going to have a high workload, since not only did she have more classes than the others, that also meant she had fewer free periods in which to catch up on work, do homework and revise for her seven NEWTs.

A straw poll around the table on who was taking which subjects revealed that all the sixth year Gryffindors were taking Charms and Defence against the Dark Arts. Harry and Parvati were the only ones not to take Herbology, whilst Harry and Seamus were the only ones not studying Care of Magical Creatures.

Seamus was slightly ruing opting for History of Magic, as he was the only Gryffindor that was going to be in the class, and Harry wondered whether any students from the other Houses would have taken it either. Dean laughed loudly at the thought of Seamus studying alone with Professor Binns, while his friend buried his head in his hands at the thought.

As the discussion of their timetables came to a conclusion, Hermione stood, ready to take her new first years up to Gryffindor Tower, then sat down again abruptly.

"What's going to happen with the first years?" she asked, slightly flustered. "Where are they going to sleep, and how are they going to be sorted?"

"I'm sure Dumbledore will sort something out for them, Hermione," Harry assured her, and as he spoke both the Headmaster and his Deputy approached the First Years' table, and sat down with them.

"But what house are they going to be in?" she persisted.

"Umm, Hermione," Ginny interrupted from a few places further down the table, "I think the whole point of the Sorting Hat's song this year was that they aren't going to be sorted into Houses.

Hermione looked shocked at this, as though one of the pillars of her life had been removed.

"But it says in "Hogwarts, A History", that the school has always divided the students into the four houses. That's over a thousand years worth of students!"

Harry put a hand on her arm. "Things change, Hermione," he said softly, as they watched Professor McGonagall lead the thirty-odd First Years out of the Great Hall. "Remember how things changed when you got your Hogwarts letter?" he asked.

"But that was for the good - this is just throwing away a tradition that has stood for a thousand years with no reason at all," she protested.

"Oh, I think it had reason enough," said Harry quietly. "I think it was fed up with the way that all the Houses are so insular, and that there are so few friends across the House divide."

Hermione was obviously still flabbergasted at the Sorting Hat's actions, and couldn't come to grips with the fact that the first years weren't going to be allocated a House, but her problem appeared to be with the high level concept. Ron's question was much more practical:

"Eh, mate, what about Quidditch?" he asked Harry.

Harry looked puzzled for a moment, but slowly realised what Ron was driving at.

"You mean, who are they going to support?"

"Well, yes, but more importantly, who are they going to play for?"

Hermione pulled herself out of her catatonia to pull Ron up short, as if out of habit. "You know full well that first years aren't allowed a broomstick at Hogwarts, Ron," she insisted, "so it doesn't really matter."

Harry and Ron looked at each other in surprise, not because they had forgotten that first years were barred from having their own broom at school, but because Hermione had apparently forgotten something.

"Um, you do remember Harry's first year, right?" Ron asked her.

"Yes, yes, but let's face it, how many first years are going to be good enough to get on the House team? Besides, if Charlie had been a year younger, or Harry a year older, I'm sure he would still have been seeker, rather than Harry."

"If he wasn't always injured," Ron noted darkly. "Fred and George spent the whole of the summer before our first year moaning at him about it - I wonder sometimes if that was what drove him off to Romania!"

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed.

Ron grinned at her. "I'm only joking! But they got trounced really badly that year," he continued. "Why d'you think Oliver Wood was always so psychotic about practices, dragging Harry out pre-dawn?"

"I'd assumed he was always like that," Harry admitted.

"Nah!" Ron said. "Fred reckons that he was traumatised by such heavy defeats in his first year as Captain that he vowed to make up for it. The team he had that year was pretty poor though - it was the twins' first season, and Angelina and Alicia's too. Charlie was injured and his replacement, some seventh year reserve, was useless."

Harry remembered McGonagall's obvious glee in his first year when she introduced him to Wood as a potential Seeker. However, he wasn't planning on getting involved in a protracted argument with Hermione about the importance of Quidditch, of all things. He could do that with Ron later.

Ron apparently agreed with this sentiment, since he remind Hermione of her comments, but simply suggested that they wait and see what Dumbledore had in store for the first years before they started worrying about Quidditch. After all, they had enough to concentrate on with defending the Quidditch Cup this year, without having to fuss about next year's matches.

With those thoughts the three of them headed up to Gryffindor Tower and to their beds, where Harry was sure he was more likely to have nightmares about his first NEWT-level Potions class with Snape than about what the Sorting Hat had done, even if it was the talk of the rest of the school.

* * *

In his office, Albus Dumbledore was considering what to do about the debacle with the Sorting. Having given its warning the previous year, the Sorting Hat was clearly not patiently waiting for the Headmaster to act to rectify the problem, and had made a pre-emptive strike at the traditional House loyalties at Hogwarts.

Having settled the first years into a separate set of dormitories that had been unused for many years, he excused them from official lessons for the first day of term while the staff sorted out what they were to do in this unprecedented situation.

The ramifications went well beyond the simple question of living quarters, and struck at the very heart of Hogwarts tradition. What would they do about the inter-House Quidditch Cup? What forms of discipline would they use since there was little point in taking House Points away from a student that didn't identify with a House? How were they going to split the students up to ensure that class sizes were manageable?

'Yes indeed,' Dumbledore mused, 'this is a right old mess!'

He knew that he needed to address the situation with the students straightaway in the morning before they started coming into contact with the rest of the school on a regular basis, and because a number of the first years would already know about the House rivalries from their parents or older siblings. Whatever he decided to do as a consequence of not being able to Sort the new student, had to be done pretty much immediately.

A knock at the door of the study forestalled any further contemplation of potential solutions.

"Enter," he barked, wondering which of his staff had elected to disturb his very necessary solitude, and hoping that they had some offer of help for him.

The door swung slowly open and admitted not a member of staff but Alastor Moody.

"And what can I do for you this evening, Alastor?" enquired Dumbledore. "I trust that Harry is safely in Gryffindor Tower, hence your appearance here?"

"He's asleep, Dumbledore," came the gruff reply. "He's not going anywhere unless he's started sleepwalking, and I'm sure that your esteemed caretaker would find that to be a pretty poor excuse for roaming the corridors at night."

"Fair enough," the Headmaster chuckled.

"Anyway, you've made a right mess of this, haven't you?" accused the grizzled ex-Auror. "Didn't take last year's warning very seriously, I'll bet."

Dumbledore looked somewhat affronted at Moody's suggested, but didn't try to deny it.

"I had other things on my mind, as you well know, Alastor. I didn't exactly have an easy ride myself last year."

"Be that as it may, you've still got yourself a mess to deal with."

"I'm fully aware of the situation. Did you have any particular suggestions to help, or have you just come here to gloat?" Dumbledore asked, in a slightly more sarcastic tone than was usual for him.

Moody looked Dumbledore over with his magic eye, and apparently didn't notice anything to disturb him particularly.

"Well, I've got some advice. Whether you take it or not is entirely up to you."

Dumbledore waited for Moody to explain further.

"I think you should take heed of what the Sorting Hat said. There's no real reason why you need to split the students into four Houses."

Dumbledore began to interrupt, but Moody cut him off before he could start providing reasons why he really needed the students Sorted.

"I know all the arguments, Albus. 'It's tradition': well, traditions change, are modified and develop into new traditions.

"'Class sizes will be too large': I can tell you now that you're just mollycoddling the staff - they're perfectly capable of dealing with classes of 30-40 students, and when the founders started Sorting students they were dealing in the hundreds, not the tens and they coped fine. If you're so worried about class sizes, you've got plenty in the budget to employ assistants, but you don't even need to do that: you've got enough sixth and seventh years that could help out in class if necessary without upsetting their studies. In effect it would almost be an apprenticeship for them, which would do wonders for their employability one they leave school.

"'How do we discipline students if we can't deduct House Points?': most of the students don't care that much about losing House Points, other than at the end of the year when the scores are close. Sure, they enjoy earning the Points in class, but that's effectively just a substitute for proper praise and criticism in the classroom. You've plenty of other sanctions and rewards available to you, whether it's bans from playing Quidditch, or going to Hogsmeade, or supervised detentions, or increased freedoms.

"'What are we going to do about Quidditch?': that's a pretty naïve question, to be blunt. It should be the least of your worries when you have an educational establishment to run. In the Muggle world, team sports are played on an entirely voluntary basis during breaks from class, in back gardens, on the streets, or wherever. They don't need to divide teams up by personality trait."

Dumbledore remained silent throughout Moody's easy disregard of all the seemingly trivial excuses he could have thought of to retain the House system, soon sure of what Moody's conclusion would be, and what advice it was that he had for the Headmaster.

"You're going to tell me that I need to stop thinking about how I'm going to sort the first years, and let them develop themselves?" he guessed.

"Not exactly. My advice goes further than that. The Sorting Hat is insistent that it's not just the first years that need to find another way to identify themselves than through an outdated House allegiance. The whole school needs to follow in the same trend. My advice is basically that you abolish the system entirely."

Dumbledore looked shocked at this suggestion. Disbanding the House structure for the upper six years would take away part of the fabric of the school.

"You've let the situation develop too far, Albus," Moody continued, his magical eye flickering as he considered the man before him. "The House system just perpetuates the rivalries and makes the whole Blood issue fester. It's passed down from generation to generation that certain people behave in certain ways. It's time it was changed before we have another Dark Lord springing out of Hogwarts!"

"I don't know that I can, Alastor," Dumbledore said with a sigh, "even if I thought it was the best solution."

He still had a school to administer, whether or not the Sorting Hat was happy with the way that he ran it, and to administer it relatively efficiently meant avoiding wholesale changes to the way that the school ran. Sure, he could make small changes, year-on-year, but to thoroughly overhaul Hogwarts would need a new Headmaster who didn't have an emotional investment in the existing traditions.

As respected and as good a Headmaster as Dumbledore was, he wasn't going to be the one to change Hogwarts, especially if he might not be around long enough to see it all the way through - that might need a full generation to pass before the real effects were noticeable.

He looked up. Moody appeared resigned to the fact that Dumbledore would maintain his own agenda and simply sighed.

"I'm sure you'll do what you feel is best for the students, Albus," he assured him, "whether or not it's what I would do."

He stood to leave.

Dumbledore nodded to Moody. "Thank you for your opinion, Alastor," he said with a heavy sigh of his own. "I'm not sure I fully agree with the way you'd approach the issue, but I can't deny that many of your comments have merit. I'll have to give this considerable thought before I make any irrevocable decisions though."

The former Auror nodded his appreciation for Dumbledore's time walked over to the study door, but before opening it to leave, turned back to Dumbledore with a final thought.

"Just so you're aware," he advised, as though recalling something he'd almost forgotten, "Christopher has told young Potter about being an agent of Choice. He told him almost straightaway."

A troubled look passed across Dumbledore's face, and he rested his forehead against his hand for a moment, before looking up at Moody once again.

"Thank you for telling me, Alastor. I'd hoped to delay Harry learning that particular information for a while, but I suppose it was inevitable that Mr Christopher would explain sooner or later."

"Can he be trusted?"

"I believe so. I hope so. I've made too many mistakes in trusting people in the past, so I won't say I know for sure."

Moody looked a little surprised at the Headmaster's candid admission, an expression that Dumbledore picked up quickly.

"Oh yes, I realise that it doesn't often seem like that, but having looked through some of Harry's memories, and reminded of the decisions I've made and people I've entrusted students at this school to, especially recently, I'm rather keenly aware of my record for trusting people," Dumbledore explained unhappily. "I just have to hope that I can atone for those errors and see this through."

It had been a long time since Dumbledore had felt as tired, frail and powerless as he did at this moment, admitting his faults and weary from a day of unexpected events. Even after the defeat of Grindelwald, an epic struggle involving huge reserves of energy and magic being deployed by both combatants, Dumbledore had felt more energy and enthusiasm than he could raise at this moment.

Moody strode as best as he could back over to the Headmaster's desk and laid a gnarled hand on Dumbledore's shoulder.

"You'll be fine, Albus. Heck, if all goes to plan over the next couple of years, you'll be able to retire with the world finally a safe and happy place."

Dumbledore looked back up at Moody with fatigue evident in his face. "Thanks Alastor," he muttered.

* * *

Breakfast the following morning, the first day of lessons for the majority of the school, saw the first years once again seated at their separate table. None of the teachers were present, and Harry assumed they were busy preparing themselves for the first lessons, which were due to start in around half an hour.

Harry sat down with Hermione and Ron towards the front of the hall where he could watch the first years.

"It's a bit of a shame, really, isn't it?" he said to Hermione. "I mean, when we first arrived we were quickly Sorted and made to feel welcome by the other Gryffindors straight away, but these kids are basically still isolated from the rest of the school."

"But what can we do?" asked Hermione. "We still don't know what Dumbledore has planned for them."

"I still want to know what they're going to do about Quidditch," Ron added, heedless to Hermione's glare at him for bringing up such a trivial problem.

He turned back to his breakfast, and ignored Hermione's stare as he piled his plate with eggs and bacon.

"I think we should talk to them," Harry suggested, glancing across the Hall and quickly sizing up his options.

"You and I?" Hermione enquired.

"Well, yes. But not just you and I. Come with me."

Harry rose from the breakfast table and walked across to the adjoining Hufflepuff table.

"Ernie, Susan, could you come outside for a moment or two, there's something I want to discuss. Hermione, go with these two and I'll be out in a minute - just wait in the entrance hall for me, will you?"

He proceeded to the Ravenclaw table and asked Cho and Terry Boot to join them as well. They gave him curious looks, but Harry insisted he'd explain in a moment.

The last part of the puzzle was the trickiest. He moved over to the Slytherins, and approached the two fifth year prefects, who he didn't know very well.

"Irene, Matthias? Would you mind coming with me for a few moments, there's something we need to talk about.

Harry's approach to the Slytherin table hadn't gone unnoticed by Malfoy. Even though he was a fair way down the table, he still stood and called out.

"What do you think you're doing, Potter? Slytherin does not welcome you to its table."

"None of your business, Malfoy," retorted Harry. "Just sit back down and let your goons protect you," he suggested with a grin. Turning back to the two fifth years he added "I won't keep you long, but I think it's important."

He led the two Slytherins out into the entrance hall, where Hermione and the prefects from the other Houses awaited him.

"What's going on, Harry?" Cho asked with a weak smile.

"Okay, this is quite simple. I think we should talk to the first years collectively. At the moment they're getting no communication from the rest of the school, and I wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore still has them entirely in the dark about what's going to happen with their Sorting, just like the rest of us are. I just want to introduce you all as people they can come to if they've got any problems, whatever house you might be in, and even if they remain unsorted."

"Makes sense," Terry agreed. "Why us though?"

"Well firstly you're all prefects, so you've already been given the responsibility of looking after the younger years in your own Houses." There were nods all around at this so Harry continued. "Also, you're probably the best people for the job, and I would say the most responsible of the prefects from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.

"No offence to Slytherin," he said to Irene and Matthias, "but if I'd approached Malfoy or Pansy for something like this they'd have told me to sod off and mind my own business."

Matthias chuckled at this. "You're not wrong there."

Harry accepted that he'd understated it, but continued nonetheless.

"Even though I don't know the two of you at all, I figured that you would at least be prepared to listen to what I said."

The two Slytherins nodded.

"I was more concerned that you would follow his lead and refuse to help, than anything else and, as the Sorting Hat insisted, there's a need for us to do this as a school, not as four separate Houses."

"Don't worry about us," Irene assured him, "we're with you on this. I'm sure Matthias will say the same, but I'm fed up of the way that Malfoy and his cronies try and railroad their own agenda through without any thought for the rest of us. We aren't all Death Eaters in training, you know."

"I never thought you were," Harry agreed. "Ron might not echo my feelings, which is one reason why he's not here right now, but I know just as well as you that Slytherin is the House of Cunning, Ambition and Guile, not the House of Evil."

He paused for a moment to consider something, then shrugged and added: " I'll even let you into a little secret: the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, but I convinced it otherwise."

A gasp from Hermione broke into Harry's brief narration, causing him to turn to her questioningly.

"You're not supposed to be able to do that, Harry," she pointed out. "The Hat's supposed to ignore any personal preference you have."

"I suppose that's in Hogwarts: A History?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Of course it is. Aren't you ever going to bother reading it?"

"We're digressing somewhat. The point is that I'd already met Malfoy and he'd rubbed me up the wrong way. He'd already told me he was destined to be in Slytherin, so I was desperate not to join him."

"I'm not surprised," Matthias noted. "He has that effect on people."

"Anyway, what I want to do is this: we'll go back into the Hall, and pick up Ron on the way through so that there are two prefects for each House - I'm staying neutral in this" he said, the last comment added swiftly as he saw at least three of them open their mouths to ask about him. "We'll go over to the first year table and I'll tell them what we're doing, and I'll introduce you all, but without saying which House you're in. Then if you wouldn't mind staying and chatting to them for a short while, say ten minutes, before you head off to your first lesson I think it would be really helpful."

Everyone agreed with this, and none of the prefects had any questions, so they headed back into the Great Hall. Harry caught Ron's eye as they walked between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables and beckoned him to join the group.

Harry made his way to the front of the Hall, and sat down in the middle of the first years who were all breakfasting together.

"Hi, I'm Harry Potter," he introduced himself as he sat, to open-mouthed stares.

"Um, Harry, I think they know who you are," Hermione said quietly as she noted the silence. A few snickers from Ron and Terry greeted this, but Harry pressed on.

"Umm...you may have read about me in Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century, and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts," he added with a smirk at Hermione, who'd made that particular observation when she had met him on the train for the very first time. A few of the first years had overcome their awe at being in the presence of such a legend and nodded at the mention of the seminal text containing details of Voldemort's first fall.

"No need to be scared, guys," Matthias piped up, "he gets into as much trouble with the teachers as anyone, and don't let him tell you otherwise." This provoked a laugh from all the prefects and seemed to break the ice a little.

Harry explained to the first years what he was doing, and introduced the prefects as 'responsible people" and hoped they were happy with it. The prefects split themselves around the first years and made themselves available to chat. Most of the youngsters seemed to be glad to finally have an opportunity to get to know some other students, who could tell them about classes and how Hogwarts normally worked, and also to explain what normally happened at the sorting to those who hadn't been fed that information by their relatives.

One young girl was clearly not having any of it though, and confronted Harry bluntly. "I'm not having any of this, you know. I want to be Sorted into Slytherin like my cousin and all his family. I'm not associating with all this riffraff."

"What's your name, and who's your cousin?" Harry asked her.

"I'm Nicola Mavelli, and my cousin's Blaise Zabini," she announced," and we're a proud pure-blood family that can trace our history back through the best Italian families in the fifteenth century."

Harry was a little surprised at the girl's outburst and her aggressive attitude. He had shared a number of classes with Blaise Zabini over the years, notably Potions and Care of Magical Creatures, and had little to quarrel with the sixth year Slytherin about, since he kept himself to himself and wasn't one of Malfoy's little gang.

"What she means," Irene butted in quickly, "is that she's related to a fifteenth century Florentine wizard who happens to be famous in the Muggle world as a politician."

"He was not a politician," little Nicola insisted, "he was a philosopher of the highest regard."

"He was a career politician who spent most of his later life writing histories, and his most famous work, the one on which his philosophical reputation is based, sucked up to his employer and ruler, Lorenzo di Piero De Medici, who was also a wizard. His political philosophy was largely limited to 'the ends justify the means'," Irene corrected her. "We've spent four years with Blaise, we know full well who Niccolo Machiavelli was and what his influence is."

Matthias took over. "The only thing that really matters in life is how you conduct yourself. If you spend your life wanting to be like somebody else, whether it's a relative or some other role model, you're wasting the chance to be you."

Harry was impressed, both by Irene's knowledge of Macchiavelli, who he'd only heard of very vaguely, and by Matthias's attitude towards Nicola. He hoped that it wouldn't prevent her asking questions, but it did at least forestall any arguments among the youngsters about purity of blood and similar issues.

He circulated among the first years, answering their questions, though most of them appeared to be about what had happened when he was a baby and he wasn't able to provide much in the way of answers, though did manage to correct a few misconceptions about what he'd actually done. Fortunately none of them knew any details about his adventures since coming to Hogwarts, and he didn't get quizzed particularly closely.

As the prefects started to drift away, and Harry started to gather himself together for his first lesson of the new year, Professor Dumbledore appeared behind him and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Good thinking, Harry," he smiled. "One of these days I'm going to remember that I'm supposed to be looking after these students. Professor McGonagall had to remind me this morning that I still had to figure out what to do with them," he added.

Harry couldn't believe that Dumbledore was quite as absent-minded as that, and got the impression that it was just to make conversation.

Dumbledore raised his voice a little. "Could all you first years please remain behind after breakfast. I need to have a little chat with you all."

Harry took this for the dismissal that it effectively was, and excused himself from the first years, picking up his book bag from where he'd left it at his place at the Gryffindor table and heading out of the Great Hall towards the dungeons for his Potions lesson at a trot. The good thing about this morning's little event was that it had taken his mind completely off the prospect of spending the next two hours in Professor Snape's company.