The right path

Seven

The Hogwarts Express was just about to arrive to Hogsmeade station. Harry was waiting in the room where the first years stayed before their sorting. He was pretty anxious, yet excited for what was to come. He had already gone to Diagon Alley to buy all of his materials for the year, and also managed to get a new broom. He was not willing to forget about quidditch, that sport was his only escape now that he didn't have Ron and Hermione with him. Hell, he was going to miss them a lot, and it was just beginning to sink in. He knew they had hurt his future self, but he guessed it was because he kept a huge secret from them. They just needed time, he knew their friendship was strong, and now it would be no more. What kept his spirit up was the knowledge he could change things for the better, so they could have a better world to live in.

He focused on thinking about the crazy day he had had, just to kill the time until the first years arrived. What probably shook him the most was his encounter with Dumbledore after lunch. It still sent shivers down his spine. He almost, almost, believed in the facade the man was portraying. Always kind and understanding. Harry could not hate the man, he really couldn't, even knowing what he did to him, just like he couldn't throw away the small sliver of hope that maybe the professor was not that horrible man yet, and he had nothing to worry about. But no, he knew the truth. Albus Dumbledore was already the manipulative man he would have known in the future, he could see it in the way he formulated his questions, weighing him, trying to discern if he would be a valuable asset to recruit. And Harry was not going to fall into that shit again. He would never allow the old man to use him again.

Just as he was analyzing his feelings, the door to the room opened, revealing a small crowd of nervous first years. He had a small flashback and remembered what he felt like when he was waiting. Ron was saying something about fighting trolls...

He snapped out of it when he spotted a familiar face. Wasn't that Hagrid over there? Blimey, it was! He was deciding whether to go and talk to him or restrain himself and wait for a better time, when a little girl crashed with him. Someone had clearly pushed her. He turned to find a young Moaning Myrtle sobbing in the floor next to him. His heart squeezing, thinking what her fate would be some years later. But no, he would make sure that didn't happen, that was a promise.

"Hey, are you okay? Here, let me help you up."

The little girl shyly took Harry's hand and murmured a small 'Thank you'. However, before Harry could say anything else, she disappeared in the crowd. He sighed, he had barely spent a day in this timeline and his hero complex was already shining through. Would the hat place him in Gryffindor this time around? He had promised himself he would not interfere this time, he would take whichever house the hat thought would be better for him, and that's that.

Just then, the door swung open, and Dumbledore was guiding the lot of them to the Great Hall. Harry, of course, was receiving odd glances. He was used to it by now, but that didn't mean he liked it. At least he expected it, after all, in his two years in Hogwarts, there was never a new student in upper years, just the eleven year olds.

Potter watched Dumbledore put the all too familiar three legged stool in the front of the hall. He found himself suddenly nervous. What if he ended up in another house? Did he want to still be a Gryffindor? He really didn't know, the only thing he did know was that, whatever house he was placed in would not be the same home he had in the future, but he hoped he would find a different home in there. He spaced out during the whole sorting, barely paying attention to the process, and clapping whenever he heard the rest do so. Because of this, he almost didn't notice when he heard his name being called, almost.

"Potter, Harry."

Well, here goes nothing. Harry sat in the stool and felt the hat rest in his head, still falling to the point the hat covered part of his eyes.