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SIYE Time:17:05 on 28th March 2024
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Grey Maiden I: Philosopher's Stone
By Chris Widger

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:All
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst
Warnings: Dark Fiction, Violence
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 129
Summary: Taken from the lifeless arms of his mother on Halloween, 1981, Harry's life is forever altered. Lily Potter's best friend, a legendary ex-Auror with a tragic and dark past, has pledged her life to raise and protect Lily's only son. But how will an entirely different upbringing change the Boy-Who-Lived? Because whatever Harry has become, it's much different than what everyone expected...
Hitcount: Story Total: 80118; Chapter Total: 7753







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Chapter 4: Sorted Affairs

As Harry lay in bed, Hogwarts: A History lying open across his chest, his thoughts wandered back to a conversation he had had earlier that day:

Aunt Daph,” Harry said, “What can you tell me about the Houses?”

Daphne, who had been reading a novel by one of her favorite wizard writers, Thomas Goldstein, put the book down and looked over at her nephew.

Well, there are four of them. Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Slytherin, and Ravenclaw. I’m sure you know that already. Hufflepuffs are known for loyalty, Slytherins for cunning and resourcefulness, Ravenclaws for intelligence, and Gryffindors for bravery. Now, I want you to keep in mind that these are generalizations. People are placed in Houses because of family history, bloodlines, even sometime because they desire a certain House over another.

You are going to meet people that say certain houses are better or worse. You are going to meet Gryffindors who think all of the Slytherins are pureblood supremacists who support the Dark Arts. While it is true that many of Voldemort’s Death Eaters were Slytherins, remember that the Head of the Auror Office, Rufus Scrimgeour, was a Slytherin. My husband, Edmond, who opposed the Dark Arts in all forms, was a Slytherin. Don’t believe what uneducated school children tell you. Not all Gryffindors are light wizards, or even brave. Hufflepuffs are not all weak-minded and cowardly, as you’ll hear far too many people say. Ravenclaws are not all brains.

What I’m telling you, Harry, is that you need to keep an open mind. Just because your parents were both Gryffindors doesn’t mean you will be. I couldn’t care less which House you are sorted into. As long as you learn and grow, and become the wizard that I know you can be, I couldn’t be happier. Don’t feel pressured to go into one house or another, and don’t feel pressure to do things that a person your age shouldn’t be expected to do. Just because people expect certain things doesn’t mean they are always right about those things. Do you understand?”

Harry nodded. “Thanks, Aunt Daph. How are we sorted, anyway? There isn’t any information in the book about it.”

Daphne smiled. Even if I wanted to tell you, I couldn’t. A charm is placed upon every sorted student that prevents them from discussing it with anyone who hasn’t been sorted. I assure you that you will have no problems. Remember, Hogwarts accepts everyone. Do you think they could make you do anything that the least powerful wizard couldn’t do? Or the most inexperienced Muggleborn?”

Of course not,” Harry said. “Is it really that easy?”

Daphne just smiled. “You’ll find out.”

And that had been that. Harry was now anxiously awaiting the morning trip to King’s Cross to catch the Hogwarts Express. He understood why Daphne had said what she said about the houses. She knew him well, and knew that he tended to push himself when given any kind of pressure. He also didn’t want to let her down, not when she had given him so much, saving him from these horrible Muggle relatives. She had put his mind at ease with her talk though.

He loved her more than anyone else in the world. He simply couldn’t imagine a life without her. He knew that it was going to be difficult, separated by an ocean, but hoped that he’d be happy and be able to exchange letters. He knew he was too dependent on her, anyway. He need to learn to be independent, and this was a way to start.

Harry placed his book back on the nightstand, and turned off the light.


“Up! UP! GET UP!” Daphne yelled. Harry let out a cry and almost fell out of bed. He noted absently that his scar was hurting. He remembered a fuzzy dream, but nothing specific. He jumped out of bed, still tangled in the bed sheets, as Daphne threw open the curtains. Bright light streamed into the room, blinding Harry. He found his glasses being roughly shoved into his hand. When he put them on, he saw his aunt running around, checking the see if Harry had forgotten anything.

He checked his watch and swore when he saw it was 9:31. They had just an hour and a half to eat, portkey to Dressler Manor, and apparate to King’s Cross to catch the Hogwarts Express at eleven.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I overslept,” Daphne said as she left the room. Harry dressed in a jumper and jeans and stuffed his books into his trunk. Stuffing his wand in his pocket, he levitated the trunk and floated it downstairs, while carrying Hedwig’s cage in his hand. The house-elves, to their credit, had not overslept, and breakfast was waiting on the table for them. After practically inhaling some bacon and eggs, Harry drained his glass of pumpkin juice and joined Daphne in the living room. She activated the portkey, and Harry grabbed onto his trunk and Hedwig’s cage.

They were unceremoniously dumped into Dressler Manor, and after a quick greeting to the House-elves, Daphne grabbed Harry’s arm and apparated him to the apparition point outside King’s Cross station. They hurried into the building and checked the time: 10:45. Finding a trolley, they loaded Harry’s things onto it and set off for Platform 9 3/4. They arrived at the place between platforms 9 and 10, and Harry gave Daphne a questioning glance. She smiled, and pointed at one of the brick columns. “That’s a magical barrier. Just run at it and believe you’ll make it through.”

Following his aunts advice, Harry took the barrier at a sprint. The second he should have hit the brick, he felt a wash of magical energy and suddenly found himself on another platform. On the tracks in front of him was a majestic steam engine, gold lettering reading, The Hogwarts Express. As he and Daphne walked over, Harry spotted a large concentration of redheads. He caught the names ‘Ron,’ ‘Percy,’ and ‘Ginny.’ Daphne spotted them as well, and apparently recognized them. She called over to a short, plump woman named Molly.

“Who is that?” she asked, “Daphne?”

Daphne nodded. “Good to see you again, Molly. Have any new ones since then?”

“Oh no. I think seven is quite enough. Ron’s starting Hogwarts this year,” she said, gesturing proudly at the tall, gangly, freckled redhead, who turned bright red. Harry looked over the other members of the family.

They seemed to all be dressed in worn clothing, indicating they probably weren’t all that wealthy. A pair of identical twins, short and stocky, stood off the left, talking the a black boy with dreadlocks, who seemed to be holding the lid down on some sort of box.

The only girl was short with slightly darker red hair and freckles, along with her mother’s brown eyes, and appeared to be very unhappy that her brothers were leaving. She saw Harry staring and looked back at him curiously, as if trying to place him from somewhere.

Harry’s gaze shifted to a pompous looking redhead with wire-frame glasses, who was talking to a blond-haired girl. Harry guessed at least two children had graduated from Hogwarts already.

Daphne was having an animated conversation with Molly Weasley, as Harry now knew she was called, and Harry glanced at the clock to see they had seven minutes. Harry dragged his trunk towards the cargo compartment, but wasn’t strong enough to lift it. Glancing around to look for witnesses, Harry subtly cast a Levitation charm on the trunk and managed to wrangle it into the compartment. He spotted the same bushy-haired girl he’d seen in the bookstore cast a disapproving glance at him. She’d obviously seen him perform magic.

Harry made his way over to Daphne, drawing Mrs. Weasley’s attention. “Who is this, Daphne?” she asked. Harry shifted uncomfortably. He got even more nervous when he saw Mrs. Weasley’s face light up in recognition. He looked all too much like his father; it was impossible to disguise his identity from anyone who had known his dad.

“That’s my nephew, Harry,” Daphne said smoothly. She smiled at Molly, but Harry saw that her eyes were pleading. Suddenly Molly nodded, and Harry knew she had understood. Perhaps being the mother of seven wizarding children made her much sharper in interpreting facial expressions.

As the minutes counted down, Daphne pulled Harry aside into the shadows. She smiled sadly at him, and Harry saw unshed tears glistening in her eyes. “I love you, Harry. Stay as safe as you can, and for Merlin’s sake, have fun. Don’t worry about me, this had to happen sooner or later. We both have gotten a little too comfortable living together. This will be good for both of us. Oh, Lily and James would have been so proud!” she gushed, her normally carefully constructed façade collapsing. She pulled Harry into a fierce embrace, and gave him a kiss on the forehead. Harry smiled at her and boarded the train. He found an empty compartment near the front of the train. As he sat down, he heard a conversation.

“First time’s always the hardest, Daphne. His parents would have been proud of both of you.”

“I know, Molly. He’s just everything I have. I love him so much and it’s hard to let him go.”

“He seems like a good boy. He’ll write often, I’m sure.”

“I know. But that doesn’t make it any easier.”

Harry felt warmth spread through his body as he heard how much Daphne cared about him. His spirits high, he pulled out his copy of Quidditch Through the Ages. Somehow, besides a visit from the food cart witch, Harry was able to read, uninterrupted for the duration of the trip. He saw people walk by, including a blond boy followed by a pair of boulder-like bodyguards. Harry guessed he was a pureblood from the way he carried himself.

The train pulled into Hogsmeade station, and the students debarked. Harry had gone for his trunk, but overhead another student telling a first year that their luggage would be taken up to the castle. He wandered over onto the platform, then spotted Hagrid.

“First years over ‘ere!” he called. His black eyes lit up when he spotted Harry. “’Arry! Good ter se ya. Alright, First Years, follow me.”

While the rest of the school appeared to be boarding horseless carriages, the First Years walked down to the lakeshore, where dozens of small boats were waiting. They loaded into the boats, Harry taking the one where he saw the familiar bushy-haired girl. She looked over at him, her brown eyes full of curiosity. “Have I seen you before today?” she asked. Harry nodded.

“In Flourish and Botts. You gave me the inspiration to by Hogwarts: A History.”

“It’s a great reference, isn’t it,” the girl said, as the boats pushed off, “I’m muggleborn, so I need as much information as I could use. We couldn’t figure out where to get all my school supplies for a long time, so we wrote the school, and they told us how to get into Diagon Alley.” Harry nodded. “I was raised out of the country, with my aunt, so I didn’t know that much about wizarding Britain either.”

“Your aunt? What about your parents?” the girl asked. Harry thanked Merlin he was talking to a Muggleborn, who wouldn’t have heard his story.

“They died when I was one. Vol-You-Know-Who killed them,” Harry said sadly.

The girl’s eyes suddenly lit up, and Harry knew he’d been found out. “You’re Harry Potter, aren’t you? I’m Hermione Granger,” she said slowly.

Harry nodded. “How did you know?” he asked.

“Well, the dates fit, and so did your age. You also look like the picture I saw of your father in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts. Did you aunt really raise you out of the country?”

“She’s not really my aunt. Her name is Daphne Dressler, and she was my mum’s best friend.”

Hermione’s eyes lit up once more. “Daphne Dressler? Wasn’t she one of the Ministry’s top Aurors?”

“Yeah…” Harry said, trailing off as they caught sight of Hogwarts. It was certainly more majestic from this angle and at night than it was before.

Hermione gasped beside him. “That’s Hogwarts?” she breathed. Harry nodded.

The boats landed at an underground dock, and the students piled off of them. A smallish, round boy cried out in glee when he found his toad. “That’s Neville Longbottom,” Hermione said, looking in his direction. “I helped him look for Trevor on the train.” Harry frowned. Longbottom? He was certain he had heard that name before.

The First Years proceeded up into an antechamber, where Professor McGonagall was waiting for them. The woman was dressed in green robes and had a pointed witch’s hat on. “You will wait here to be Sorted into your Houses. I suggest you use this time to smarten up a bit before the Sorting,” she said.

Harry uselessly tried to get his hair to lie flat, but it was a losing battle. “I can never get it flat,” he growled. To his surprise, McGonagall laughed. “Neither could your father.”

She left and the First Years began discussing what the Sorting might entail. Ron Weasley was going on about fighting a troll, but Harry knew that unless Filch wanted to be scraping eleven-year corpses off the floor and Dumbledore writing to furious parents that seemed unlikely. Hermione was nervous, repeating spells she’d learned under her breath. Out of annoyance more than anything else, Harry put a hand on her shoulder. “Granger, relax. Think about it. Hogwarts doesn’t turn away students, and there are Muggleborns that are both less talented and less experienced than you. What are the odds you’ll be asked to do something requiring the Alohamora Charm?”

Hermione looked up at him, surprise on her face. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you are too nervous. Don’t worry about it. Just relax. You seem quite bright from what I can tell. You’ll probably be at the top of your class.” Hermione looked at him strangely, then turned red. Harry abruptly realized she might have been known as a know-it-all or something at Muggle school. Harry had been called that before, but he’d also had three loyal know-it-all friends to back him up. He realized abruptly how much his missed Tanner, Trish, and Connor, and hoped they weren’t mad at him.

The doors opened, the First Years were led into the Great Hall. Hermione started telling a pair of Indian girls about the ceiling, and how it was charmed to reflect the night sky. Indeed, when Harry glanced up, he saw stars and the moon, with the ceiling only faintly visible through the night sky. Candles were floating around the room, and Harry noticed five tables, one for each house, and another for the unsorted First Years.

Harry glanced up at a stool on which sat a patched, frayed, hat. He wondered what significance that had. At least he did until he heard the hat begin to sing. (A/N: I have no time to write the whole song, so onto the Sorting.)

When the hat was finished, the students applauded wildly, and the hat gave something resembling a bow. Harry glanced up at the teacher’s table. He saw Dumbledore, who looked back at him, eyes twinkling madly. He saw Hagrid (the man was hard to miss), Snape, a man in a purple turban, a plump looking witch with curly brown hair, and a tiny, dwarf-sized wizard with white hair who was standing on his stool. Harry wondered if this was the Professor Flitwick that Daphne said spoke so highly of his mother.

McGonagall seemed to have the ability to quiet the room with her presence, and Harry guessed she was not one to cross. Harry also guessed her behavior in Dumbledore’s office had been an aberration brought on by the fact she was close to his parents.

“When I call your name, please step forward and place the Sorting Hat on your head.”

“Abbot, Hannah.” A small blond-haired girl with pigtails ran up.

“HUFFLEPUFF!” the hat cried after some deliberation. Hannah Abbot ran off to join the Hufflepuff table.

“Bones, Susan.” A brown-haired girl ran up. “HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Boot, Terry.” A dark-haired boy ran up. “RAVENCLAW!”

“Brocklehurst, Mandy” A tall, dark-haired girl with vibrant blue eyes ran up. “RAVENCLAW!”

“Brown, Lavender.” A brown-haired girl who had been gossiping earlier ran up, and after a long minute, the hat cried

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Bulstro de, Millicent.” A heavy-set girl with who vaguely resembled a hag ran up. “SLYTHERIN!” There were hisses from the Gryffindor table. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Crabbe, Vincent.” One of the boulder-like bodyguards plodded up. “SLYTHERIN!”

“Crawford, Michael.” A blond-haired boy with Daphne’s grey-green eyes ran up. Harry made a mental note to ask if they were related. “RAVENCLAW!”

“Davidson, Kevin.” “HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Finch-Fletchley, Justin.” “HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Finnegan, Seamus.” Harry grinned as the sandy-haired boy ran up. “GRYFFINDOR!”

“Granger, Hermione.” Harry sat up in his seat as Hermione got up and ran to the stool, eagerly jamming the hat onto her head. It was silent for a moment before the Hat cried, “GRYFFINDOR!” Harry’s heart sank. He’d hoped he’d get to be with Granger, but he had a feeling that Godric’s house wasn’t for him.

“Greengrass, Daphne.” A blond-haired girl with discerning blue eyes ran to the stool. “SLYTHERIN!”

“Goyle, Gregory.” The other boulder-like bodyguard plodded up. “SLYTHERIN!”

“Longbottom, Neville.” The roundish brown-haired boy, looking extremely nervous, ran up to the stool. “GRYFFINDOR!” Harry was surprised by that.

“MacDougal, Morag.” A tall blond-haired boy with glasses ran up. “RAVENCLAW!”

“MacMillan, Ernest.” A black boy with an arrogant air about him ran up. “HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Malfoy, Draco.” Harry sat up abruptly as he saw the blond from the train strut up to the hat. Malfoy. He knew that name. Daphne said his father had bought his way out of Azkaban, and on one occasion, had nearly killed his mother with a Severing Curse that almost took her leg off. James had gotten her help just in time to prevent her bleeding out. “SLYTHERIN!”

“Moon, Elisha.” A black girl ran up.” “SLYTHERIN!” More hisses from the Gryffindors.

“Nott, Theodore.” A boy with wire-frame glasses, short brown hair, and constantly moving brown eyes walked slowly up to the hat. It had barely touched his head when it bellowed, “SLYTHERIN!”

“Parkinson, Pansy.” A girl with blond hair ran forward. “SLYTHERIN!”

“Patil, Padma.” One of the Indian girls ran up. “RAVENCLAW!”

“Patil, Parvati.” The second Indian girl ran up. “GRYFFINDOR!”

And now…

“Potter, Harry.” Harry jumped off the table, ignoring the hisses and gasps.

The Harry Potter?”

“He’s a bleeding little runt?

I can’t believe he beat You-Know-Who!”

He’s a Gryffindor for sure! We’re going to get Potter!”

Harry saw the Professors get to the edge of their seats, and sighed. This was the price of fame. If only they knew.

He ran up to the Sorting Hat and pulled it on before sitting down.

A voice sounded in his ear. So here is the Boy-Who-Lived, the last of the Potters.

Yeah, Harry thought, here is the savior.

Quite a bit of pressure put on one so young, the hat said, “but where to put you. You are no Hufflepuff, I’ll tell you that. You have a brilliant mind, one any Ravenclaw would envy, but there is more than that. Hmmm, let’s see. You have a desire to prove yourself, to overshadow the fame you believe is undeserved. Quite difficult that will be. Now, I don’t think Gryffindor is the right place for you, do you?

Daphne didn’t think so, Harry thought. And I tend to agree with her. I’m not that brave, I’m better at avoiding trouble entirely.

Yes, you are. Now, you are quite resourceful aren’t you. Lots of cunning there. And…what’s this…hmmm…quite rare that talent is. Now, I think that you would fit best in Salazar’s house. You have the mind, the talent, and the necessary qualities. You could be great there.

I don’t want to be great. I want to be normal.

Nonetheless, I think you would do best in…

SLYTHERIN!” the hat cried. Harry pulled the hat off, expecting to see a silent and stunned crowd. He was not disappointed.

What he was surprised to see was that the reactions were stronger than he imagined they’d be. The Gryffindors were staring at him like he was a traitor of some kind, and Hermione looked horrified. Goddamn Gryffindors probably telling her that all Slytherins are dark. The Ravenclaws were analyzing him like a book, or something similar. The Hufflepuffs looked absolutely terrified. He spared a glance at the Head Table.

Hagrid was white, and had knocked over his goblet. McGonagall looked depressed, and disappointed, but resigned, as though she’d expected this. Dumbledore looked like someone had died. The rest of the teachers were staring at him, open-mouthed. Only Snape was different. He was giving Harry a glare full of so much hate that Harry felt the sudden urge to run in the opposite direction as fast as he could.

What surprised him was the reaction of the Slytherins. About half of them looked like they’d eaten something that disagreed with them, and several goblets had been knocked over. Some looked pleased, and others just extremely curious. Harry calmly walked over to the Slytherin table and sat down a couple seats away from anyone else, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

McGonagall spluttered, then recovered, and continued. Sally-Ann Perks was sorted into Hufflepuff, Ron Weasley (who glared at Harry as he went up) and Dean Thomas became Gryffindors, Lisa Turpin became a Ravenclaw, and Blaise Zabini joined Harry at the Slytherin table. Harry just stared into the distance, his expression blank, thoughts running through his head. He wasn’t disappointed to be Sorted into Slytherin, he was disappointed that he had the awful feeling he might not have that many friends for a while.

When the Sorting concluded, Dumbledore stood up. “A few start of term notices. First, this year more than ever, the Forbidden Forest is off-limits to all students. In addition, the Third-Floor corridor is out of bounds, to anyone who does not wish to die a most painful death.” This was met by a hiss of whispers and several groans. Harry wondered what on earth was in he corridor and what it was doing in a school. “Argus Filch, our caretaker, has posted a list of all forbidden items on his office door. I believe the list is 414 items long.”

“And now, I would like to say a few words. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you. Dig in.”

Massive quantities of food appeared as Harry stared back at the Headmaster in disbelief. Muttering something like, “crazy old man,” Harry loaded his plate with liberal amounts of everything he could reach and began to eat. He had just bitten into a roll when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up to see Draco Malfoy, and his eyes narrowed. The blond-haired pureblood looked taken aback.

“Have we met before, Potter?” he asked. Harry noted that Crabbe and Goyle were standing behind him.

“No. What do you want?” Harry asked.

“Well, I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Draco Malfoy, and this is Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. You’ve been living out of the country, I know, so you probably don’t know this. There are certain types of wizards that are better than others. You don’t want to get involved with the wrong sort. I can help you there,” he said, extending his hand. Harry looked at it liked he was diseased.

“And why exactly would I accept advice on the worth of wizards from the pureblooded heir of a former Death Eater?” Harry asked. What little color that was in Malfoy’s face drained.

What did you say, Potter?”

“I said that your father, Lucius Malfoy, was a Death Eater. One that nearly killed my mother, and one that used his wealth to get out of Azkaban,” Harry replied evenly, subtly reaching into his robes, his fingers closing around his wand. Malfoy’s surprised look gave way to fury.

Why you little-“ Malfoy was cut off by the appearance of Harry’s wand in the hollow of his neck.

Back off, Malfoy,” Harry said coolly. Malfoy looked outraged.

“Get that bloody wand off of me.” Harry obliged, but kept it pointing at him.”

“You probably don’t know half the spells I know.” Harry knew that Malfoy, as a pureblood, probably had prior training. So did Harry.

“And I was raised by Daphne Dressler. Name ring a bell?”

Malfoy’s face paled again. Obviously, it did. He angrily spun on his heels, muttering, “You’ve made an enemy today, Potter,” before returning to his seat, his bodyguards behind him.

Theodore Nott whistled. “You sure know how to make an impression.”

“Shut up.”

“As you wish,” Nott said, turning back to his conversation with Daphne Greengrass. Harry let out a sigh. He already missed his friends and his aunt.

He glanced up at the Head Table. Snape’s gaze was as venomous as ever, and he was now barking at a terrified looking man in a purple turban. Both of them suddenly glanced at Harry, and he felt a hot pain shoot through his scar. Blinking rapidly, he looked back up, but the professors were back to arguing.

After a disastrous attempt at singing the school song, in which Harry’s eardrums nearly bled from the horrid mix of pitches, tempos, and tunes, Dumbledore bid the students goodnight. Harry followed the Slytherin Prefects out of the Great Hall and into the dungeons. Harry’s day didn’t end there though. Snape passed by, looking absolutely murderous, and Harry knew he wouldn’t enjoy being in the company of that man.

Where the reached the hidden entrance to the Slytherin common room, Harry rolled his eyes at the password: Pureblood. Malfoy gave him another death glare. Harry tiredly walked into the First Year dorms, and saw his trunk had been placed next to his bed. He sat down on his bed and kicked off his shoes. Malfoy approached, and Harry let out a tired yawn.

“What now, Malfoy?”

“Think our password is funny, do you, Potter? Think you are better than us?”

“Slytherin House as a whole? No. You? Yes. I’m not creating pointless arguments with a person too tired to take anything you are saying seriously,” Harry said. “Sod off Malfoy, you can yell at me in the morning.”

Better watch your back, Potter,” Malfoy hissed. Harry rolled his eyes and closed his hangings. Pulling out Hogwarts: A History, he cast the Lighting Charm and began to read about Rowena Ravenclaw.

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