Let It Be Slytherin ⟶ A Harry Potter Time Travel Fic

Harry's Sorting: Take Two

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Hours later, the Hogwarts express had arrived and most students had just assembled in the Great Hall. Only one student was still on his way.

Harry walked down the corridor to the sorting, his heart pounding, head spinning, and anticipation growing. The portraits, the statues, the corridors, and the ghosts all whipped past him as he walked through the castle like so many times before. But this time was different, and Harry swallowed as he contemplated what was about to happen. He was actually going to see his parents. Ron and Hermione were never going to believe him when he got back, Harry thought wryly.

Slowly, he began to hear the roar of students. It got louder and louder until he turned the main corridor and spotted them: a group of little first years packed together before the double doors.

The air was suddenly filled with the hum of hundreds of people just a wall away. Harry was so close, he could feel it. He imagined the other side of this wall. The Gryffindor table from one end to the other, happy students sharing summer stories. James and Lily were there, Sirius was there, Remus was there. Even Dumbledore, sitting at the head table. Harry felt a pang of sadness as he realized this wasn't the ending to his story. He didn't belong here. But it didn't matter. He was here and this time was his.

Harry approached the group of first years and dozens of big eyes stared up at him as if he had sprouted wings.

"Who is he?"

"He's old!!" They whispered to each other nervously and Harry couldn't help but smile down at them.

Professor McGonagall stood at the helm and eyed him carefully. She seemed about fifty years old, with fewer wrinkles and more trendy glasses, but the same stern demeanor. Her eyes were kind as she surveyed her charges. She held a parchment in both hands and explained the game plan. Little heads began to bob in affirmative and Harry shifted, the anticipation building.

The double doors of the Great Hall towered over them, and Harry took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. Nervous hands adjusted his tie and instinctively went to flatten his hair before he realized—Harry Fletcher had straight hair. Feeling silly, he brought his hands down to his sides again. Would the doors never open?

Finally, Professor McGonagall turned to them. "They are ready for you."

The doors cracked open and the line of light that was the Great Hall grew larger until all of Hogwarts lay before them.

Harry's senses were bombarded with the sweet scent of cinnamon sticks and cloves, the jingle of the Hogwarts fight song, and hundreds of student's voices bouncing up the vaulted ceiling. Four long tables pointed north, each a different jewel tone and one table stood above them all. Dumbledore sat at the head, with teachers seated to his right and left. Slughorn, Flitwick, Binns, and more.

Each of the House tables was paired with a matching floating tapestry – maroon, yellow, blue, green. Harry had eyes only for one, his eyes drinking in the sight.

Gryffindor.

Translucent candles floated above students' heads and the fire's ambiance was warm and welcoming. The golden tablecloth seemed to glow against maroon ornaments and students of all ages eagerly chatted to their friends of their summer adventures. Harry smiled. He was home.

At the first year's entrance, the students turned and whispered, excited to watch the sorting even as they fondly remembered their own. Just as Harry's eyes searched for familiar faces, Dumbledore rose and raised a jeweled goblet to the students.