Harry Potter 1. Returning to Harry

Thomas James Black walked out of the Ministry of Magic building at dawn. as he wended through the early morning crowd in the Atrium, he saw Dumbledore making his way in the opposite direction. The story had been told in its entirety and a copy had been securely hidden only to be found under certain circumstances. So if Dumbledore ruined everything, the world would find out who was responsible for their destruction and lay the blame at the proper high-heeled booted feet. But for now, all Thomas could do was try to rewrite the tale and pray for the best.

Thomas made his way to the nearest police department pretending to be lost. Soon he would be at Harry's side at the orphanage. It was not the same orphanage their grandfather had been raised in. That one had long since been torn down. The orphanage that he and Harry lived in was much more modern and well kept, and while it had its bad points, wasn't nearly as bad as living at the Dursley's. He hoped that the evidence of domestic abuse and child abuse that had found its way to the police shortly before Aunt Petunia had brought them here had helped her get rid of Vernon. Dudley would be much better off without his father.

"Hello, I'm lost, and I was told that a policeman would help me find my way home if I was lost." Thomas said in his best small child's voice as he peered over the tall counter at the police officer sitting behind it. Judging by the strange look he was getting, he had overdid it.

Less than an hour later, he was sitting at a table beside Harry eating breakfast. Mrs. Nesbitt had been extremely relieved to have him back. She had feared the worst when she had discovered that he had been gone.

Today was a new day, and Thomas would make the best of it. With Harry beside him happily chattering about what they were going to do later, Thomas began to truly feel hope for the future.


	2. Going to Diagon Alley

Time passed, and finally the day to remove the orphanage from the modified Fidelious charm that had kept it hidden from the magical world had come. Tomorrow would be Harry's eleventh birthday, the day he was supposed to get his Hogwarts letter. Tom arose shortly before dawn and began to remove the wardstones from the four corners of the orphanage property. Once the wardstones had been removed, he carefully set them down in the middle of the small playground at the back of the orphanage. He had to bring the extremely heavy wardstones together by hand, since the only other option would've involved overloading the specially made wards, severely draining himself , and creating an unexplainable iridescent blue dome over the entire property that would've drawn the Ministry to him in an instant in the process. He looked up, the kids had already started coming out back to play away more of their summer holidays. He groaned. So much for privacy. Fortunately, the kids had seen him and Harry "Playing wizard" so many times that they had become inured to the sight.

He pulled out the wand he had swiped from Grimwauld Place years before though it was highly unnecessary for what he was doing, and began chanting nonsensical words while concentrating on not channeling his magic through the wand and praying that he wouldn't create some horrific new spell or accidentally summon Godzilla like that kid who had been messing around during a trip to Japan. Bringing the four wardstones together had caused the overload that was necessary to bring down the protections without the spectacular results. With the stones together, what would've become a giant blue dome that encompassed the entire grounds of the orphanage was merely a blinding blue glow that just surrounded the stones themselves. The children who had come out to play, seeing that nothing interesting and noteworthy was happening, swiftly became bored and went back to whatever they had been doing before he had overloaded the wardstones. With a final sputtering pop, the wards overloaded and vanished.

An hour later, a pair of Hogwarts owls arrived bearing the long awaited letters.

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After sending their replies to the letters, Thomas turned to Harry.

"Are you ready to see Diagon Alley?" He said with a smile.

The excited look on Harry's face was answer enough. Harry had been hearing tales of the famous alley since the day he and his cousin were dropped off at the orphanage by Aunt Petunia. Thomas had told him many tales of the wizarding world, some good some bad. The tales of Diagon Alley had almost always been good.

After putting on one of the baseball caps that an American cousin of Mrs. Nesbitt's had donated to the orphanage last year, Harry was ready to go and couldn't wait until they snuck out after lunch.

On the way to Charing Cross Road, Tom turned to Harry.

"Remember the owl, I told you about?" Tom said.

"Yes, Hedwig the smartest owl in the world." Harry replied, remembering stories about the brilliant owl that carried mail.

"We're going to get her today, but we have to hide her at Grimwauld place until school starts." Tom said. "I'm going to have to send a letter with her first though."

"To who?" Harry asked.

"To Professor Snape. We need someone to explain to Mrs. Nesbitt where we're going." Tom replied. "Since he doesn't know about the time travel I told you about, I'm going to tell him that I got his name out of the journal that Aunt Petunia gave us."

Harry didn't know what to think of that. He didn't always know what to think of his cousin. His cousin told him many stories about the future, and proved a bunch of them to be true. There was something he was holding back though. Something that brought a strange pain to his eyes when he thought Harry wasn't looking. But now was not the time to think of such things, as they had reached the place that he had heard many stories of, Diagon Alley.


	3. At Diagon Alley

Thomas watched as Harry excitedly raced from one shopfront to the other peering into the large windows, trying to take everything in. His excited curiosity was almost infectious, and it caused many of the weary shoppers who had been to the alley hundreds of times to pause and smile for a moment before going about their business. Seeing the intense look of joy on Harry's face was worth the pain of seeing the world as it had been so long ago. He couldn't help but smile himself as he grabbed Harry's arm and told him that they could look at everything later.

He smirked as Harry gaped at the Goblin bank tellers before remembering his manners and closing his mouth. Soon enough, their turn in line came.

"I would like to access the Black Family vault, and I would like a full assessment of any and all monies and property that may belong to my companion." Thomas said. He knew that there had been a couple of small fortunes waiting for Harry outside the Potter holdings. Along with those who left him money after the war because they had been lacking in heirs, Harry's maternal grandmother had left everything that had been in her name to his mother who had left everything to him. He would have to convince Harry to leave the small vault that had belonged to the Evans family before they squibbed out for Dudley's grandson (the last wizard born in the entire world, who had been born to Dudley's teenage son) even though it would be his by right of adoption as he was pretty certain that the family would be broke by the time the as yet unborn child was ready for Hogwarts if everything went as it was supposed to and Harry didn't snap. While Harry wasn't extremely wealthy - even with the extra fortunes - he was rich enough that didn't need the contents of the Evans vault.

While Tom had many bad things to say about how Dumbledore did things, there was one good thing. Dumbledore had never once touched even a single Knut of Harry's money. He never told Harry that he might have anything other than what was in the Potter Vault, but he never touched any of it.

After an eventful ride down to the Black Family vault, where Tom handed Harry some money to get his school things since getting into the Potter Vault would quite likely bring Dumbledore down on their heads, they headed to Florean Fortescues for some ice cream. While they ate, Harry excitedly chattered about what they would get first. Tom decided that it would be their official wands. While the wand belonging to Phineas Nigellus had worked pretty well for him, he wanted his old wand back. The wand that had belonged to Orion Black had never been a very good fit for Harry anyway.

When they walked into Olivanders, Tom was startled when the proprietor appeared out of nowhere even though he knew to expect it. He once again got his thirteen and a quarter inch Yew and Dragon Heartstring wand whose wood had been from a tree that had provided wood for only one other wand, as Harry got his Holly and Phoenix feather wand. He endured Ollivander's mutterings as he knew that the selections had been due to a genetic connection to his and Harry's infamous ancestor. Affinities to certain woods and wand cores tended to run in families. Legend had it that Salazar Slytherin's own wand had been of yew though the composition of the core had been lost to history. He would tell Harry about that later, as Harry was looking at his wand rather nervously.

They headed to Eyelop's Owl Emporium next. Tom handed Hedwig to a startled Harry as they exited.

"She's always been your owl." he said to the boy who was getting his first close-up look at the hero of a number of his bedtime stories. "Just be sure to let me borrow her."

They then went to Madam Malkins where Tom pondered the nature of fate as he listened to Draco Malfoy prattle on about the Hogwarts houses. That boy had always been too bold for Slytherin. He would have wondered what the sorting hat was thinking if he hadn't known about the hat's habit of dumping most members of certain families into certain houses unless they were extremely unsuited for them, and sometimes even then.

When they finished shopping, they ate dinner at the Leaky Cauldron and took the Knight Bus to get to Grimwauld place since walking through the neighborhood surrounding it with anything more than your clothing was like begging to be mugged or worse. Once inside, they set their trunks down before fishing out their books and putting them into bags. Reading the textbooks before school started was generally a good idea, and they wouldn't need the other stuff until school started.

After they got their belongings situated, Tom wrote a note to Professor Snape and sent it off with Hedwig. He then placed her cage in the small owlry in the attic. She should be safe here until school started, and he was reasonably certain that Kreatcher would tend to her. He would check up on her every other day to make sure though.

When Tom and Harry got back to the orphanage, they were naturally punished for running off. The lecture and being assigned to clean the boy's bathroom was bad enough, but Harry was more concerned with the week without dessert which he felt was over the top.


	4. The Sorting

Over the next month, Thomas and Harry alternated reading the books assigned to Hogwarts first-years (Tom, for a refresher on concepts he had long since mastered) and playing with Harry's friends at the Orphanage. The days passed quickly in this manner, and soon it was time for them to leave, hopefully for the last time if Tom's plan came together as he hoped it would. If everything worked out, they would end up close enough that Harry could visit his friends over the Summers.

Snape had been surprised to discover that Tom and Harry were really living at an orphanage. He had convinced himself that it was yet another Potter/Black prank and had gone to call their bluff. It had been he who had taken them to King's Cross on September 1st, and vanished as soon as they settled in a compartment aboard the Hogwart's Express. If it was the same compartment Tom and Harry had ridden in the first time around, well that couldn't be helped now could it.

Watching Ron and a Harry who had friends interact had been interesting. Now that he wasn't desperate for someone besides Tom to talk to him, he noticed some of the other boy's behavior that he otherwise would've ignored for the sake of a possibility of friendship and called him on it. It looked like this time around Ron wouldn't bully Harry into doing things he wouldn't normally do in order to preserve their friendship.

Malfoy came by and made an ass of himself as usual, making Tom wish for the days after he grew out of such behavior. This naturally didn't endear the boy to Harry who promptly sent him packing. Watching the rat bite Crabbe this time around was more disturbing considering the fact that he now knew exactly what the rat was. An image of a fat balding man chomping on the hand of an over-sized eleven year-old child came to mind as he watched Crabbe flail about. When Ron had pulled him out of his pocket early in the trip, it had taken a great deal of effort not to kill Peter on sight.

Hermione and Neville showed up as they had before as well. This time, Tom discreetly whispered some advice in Hermione's ear. It wasn't well received however, and she left the compartment in a huff. He hoped that she would stop and take it into consideration after further thought later. Neville shyly returned Tom's smile as if he couldn't believe someone his age was being friendly. There was no sign of the brave man who could lead an army.

By the time the ride was over Ron had more than enough galleons to buy a top of the line owl and Scabbers was in an unbreakable cage that Tom had brought for the situation. The bargain had been much easier to make than he thought it would until he realized that Ron had not yet grown attached to "Percy's old rat". From the gleam in Ron's eyes he could tell that Ron thought he had gotten one up on some rich bastard who had more cash than he did brains. He would have to disabuse the boy of the notion later.

He would also have to find a way to get Pigwidgeon to Ginny. She had been far more fond of the diminutive owl than Ron had. Harry had loved her dearly before he went insane, and for that she deserved something at least.

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Thomas looked around the Great Hall with a mix of awe and bittersweet sadness. His memories had never quite done this place justice. In a moment they would be sorted. He would be a Slytherin again, but he was starting to rethink his decision to drag Harry into that noble house. While the boy needed a place to hone his natural cunning amongst other things, he also needed a safe place to sleep and to be neutral enough that he could get support from all houses. Thanks to Slytherin's current reputation, Harry would be immediately labeled "Dark" if he was sorted there.

When Professor McGonagall called out "Black, Thomas", he raced up to the stool upon which the Sorting Hat was placed with a smirk on his face. This sorting would be unlike any other in recent centuries. Thanks to his status as Heir to a Founder and his knowledge from the future, he would be able to free Godric Gryffindor's poor creation from the spell that had been placed on it by an early headmaster who had gotten tired of soothing the bruised egos of crying first years after every sorting.

It has often been said that a magical object that has any degree of sentience will take on the personality and mood of its creator at the time of its creation. Out of the once inseparable duo of Gryffindor and Slytherin, it was Salazar Slytherin who had the sunny personality which he had carefully cultivated to make people underestimate him, sometimes fatally so. In the day and age they lived Gryffindor had been known more for his biting wit and sarcasm which could put Hogwarts' current Potions Master to shame at times. On the day the Sorting Hat was created, Gryffindor had been "In one of his moods". But then again, when wasn't he?

Gryffindor was being facetious when he had suggested using a hat to sort the students. Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw knew this and promptly chewed him out for not being serious about anything that dealt with the school. Slytherin pretended to take the suggestion seriously, and with his brightest smile he took off his hat and tossed it to his friend. By the end of the day, the founders had a self-aware hat that could look into the mind of anyone it was set upon and was able to hurl insults better than its creator could.

For the next two centuries until its "binding" by an exasperated headmaster the hat gleefully hurled abuse at those it sorted, and at the Headmaster (who gained a great deal of patience by learning to tune it out) for the rest of the year. For the next eight centuries, the poor hat was limited only to comments and songs that were directly related to the sorting and answers to the questions of the Heads of the school. It had been a boring and pitiful existence for the hat that remembered its days of freedom. This depression resulted in a lack of interest in its job that caused the hat to place hundreds if not thousands of witches and wizards in houses that were entirely unsuitable for them.

Tom was under the sorting hat for less than ten seconds before there was a pink glow and a loud pop. Five seconds later, he was back in his beloved Slytherin. Nobody in the Great Hall clapped for him though, as they were paying more attention to the Sorting Hat which had apparently gone insane.

"I'm free! Free at last! Ha Ha Ha! Finally, I'm free to tell you brats what I really think of you!" The hat yelled before laughing maniacally until it was interrupted by the Deputy Headmistress whom he soundly insulted before turning to the line of apprehensive first years who were intimidated by the evil "grin" the hat was giving them. With a gesture from the Headmaster - who would be having a discussion with the most recent Black to grace the school with his presence about the appropriateness of certain pranks - the sorting continued. Having a sorting at the Welcoming Feast was an ancient school tradition he would not allow to be interrupted by anything, once he figured out what spell had been used and repaired the hat, they would have to schedule another sorting.

"RAVENCLAW! Rowena would have enjoyed the challenge of getting something through that thick skull of yours even if it was only a blunt object." the hat said when one Vincent Crabbe had been called up.

With each new name called, the professors watched as children they had pegged for one house got sent to somewhere completely unexpected, some of them crying over the insults the hat had given them. The diminutive Professor Flitwick looked like he was going to cry himself when Gregory Goyle was sent to Ravenclaw "For the same reason as Crabbe". Even Snape had a hard time suppressing a chuckle when the Malfoy heir was sent to Hufflepuff for "An exceedingly pathetic attempt at insulting me, and what effing idiot thought you belonged in Slytherin in the first place?". The line eventually wended down past the Ps (Potter ended up in Ravenclaw "Where you might actually learn how to think.") and into the Ws where the school got the surprise that shouldn't have been so much of one considering the way the rest of the sorting had gone.

"No you don't, I'm not letting you Weasleys escape SLYTHERIN any longer!" the hat said as soon as it was placed upon the head of the youngest son of Arthur and Molly Weasley.

Thomas Black sat back smiling as the first Weasley in nine generations to be sorted into Slytherin stormed over to the table. Sometimes the best pranks involved undoing the damage someone else had done. From the thunderous look the Headmaster was giving him, it looked like he would have to give the old man one hell of an explanation to worm his way out of this one. Maybe if he told him he was repairing some damage to the hat that an ancestor of his had done, it was true after all.

The coming week was going to be very very interesting.


	5. The Aftermath

Dumbledore waylaid Tom on his way to the dormitories after the Start of Term Feast as he expected he would.

"Tom, may I have a word with you?" the old man said as he gripped his shoulder, preventing him from following his fellow Slytherins to the dormitories.

Tom looked up at the old man whose eyes were flashing dangerously rather than giving off their usual twinkle. The headmaster had said his name in the tone of voice he usually reserved for a different Tom. That Tom was the former human being that was his and Harry's batshit insane grandfather.

Realizing that the best way to head a rather dangerous situation off at the pass was to directly cut to the chase he gathered up what courage he had.

"Is it about the Sorting Hat sir?" he asked in a rather subdued tone.

"Yes. I would like to know exactly what you did to it and how." the headmaster said, barely suppressing his anger, his eyes hardening to an even icier blue behind his half-moon spectacles.

"Well sir, the orphanage Harry and I were sent to was close to the house that's been Black family's main London residence since the Great Fire in 1666. Since my grandmother Walburga forced me to learn at a faster pace than usual, the books they gave me at the orphanage were well below my reading level. I got rather bored, and snuck back to the Black family home for some reading material that would hold my interest. At one point I found a History of Hogwarts that an ancestor of mine had left unfinished. In it was a story of how the Sorting Hat which had previously been rather ill tempered had changed completely. When I was under the Sorting Hat, I felt as if there was something tying it down and I untied it." Black said, going for something that vaguely resembled the truth (after all, he had discovered the tome which if completed might have replaced Hogwarts A History as the definitive text on the history of the school while cleaning the house for the Order of the Phoenix before his fifth year). He had a strong feeling that he wouldn't be allowed back to Grimwauld Place unsupervised if at all.

He looked up and could practically see the wheels turning in the Headmaster's head. He was apparently one of the very few in the wizarding world who knew that despite what the hat itself had said, it had actually originally been Salazar Slytherin's property (it had been a gift to him from Gryffindor, but it was Slytherin's property nonetheless). Apparently the old man had finally decided to dismiss the freeing of the Sorting Hat as something instinctive - nearing accidental magic - that had only succeeded because the person doing it was a descendant of the hat's owner since he turned to leave without questioning him further.

Tom turned to go down to a set of private quarters near the Slytherin Dormitories (something he could explain away as being in the notes left by yet another member of the Ancient and Noble House of Black) as he was certain that nobody was going to wait around to let him in and he couldn't remember the blasted password from first year. He could use Slytherin's password, but that would cause a bit of a commotion since - as he once accidentally discovered when he had forgotten the password during an extremely stressful day during his Second year and opted for Parceltounge instead - the whole damn dormitory would be alerted to his presence by a really loud gong that Slytherin himself had installed to signal that his students were to gather and listen to him speak. The one and only time that occurred (as he made it a point to either remember the password or go elsewhere) had not only been downright embarrassing, but it had rather spectacularly given away the fact that Harry wasn't the only Parcelmouth in the school once one of the avid history buffs learned what the hell the gong that hadn't been heard in several generations was for.

He hurried towards the hidden rooms because knew that though Professor Snape had some feelings (nothing inappropriate mind you) for Harry because of his mother, he held him in no such regard and therefore would be quite happy to give him detention if he found him out wandering the halls. Musing about how he could get Snape to not antagonize Harry for the next seven years so Harry wouldn't feel so torn over how he had hated a man who had watched over him from the shadows saving his life many times, he hissed Salazar Slytherin's favorite password at a bit of seemingly blank wall.

Why his esteemed ancestor had used "Open" as the default password for everything from the "Chamber of Secrets" to his personal indoor privvy he didn't know.

As his head hit the pillow of the featherbed that the House Elves kept well maintained for whoever would use the hidden rooms next (despite the fact that several decades or centuries often passed between usages) he wondered how long it would take for the Headmaster to realize that he wouldn't be able to "fix" the hat. The pink glow the occupants of the Great Hall had seen hadn't been the removal of the ancient enchantments that bound the hat, it had been him setting up enchantments to protect the Sorting Hat from being forced to do another's bidding.

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Meanwhile in the Ravenclaw First Year's Boy's Dormitory, Harry Potter was being forced to resolve a conflict without Tom's aide. Crabbe and Goyle had decided to get revenge for the incident on the train and the other - much smaller - first years had hidden away in their beds hoping that if they pretended to sleep they wouldn't be dragged into whatever was going to happen. Calmly taking a deep breath to prepare himself for what was to come, he remembered his cousin's advice. "When faced with odds aren't in your favor, don't waste your energy fighting. Be like the cobra. Attempt to retreat first. If you cannot retreat, show your "hood" and attempt to bluff your way out of the situation. If they are not frightened off by your display, strike only as a last resort."

"I wouldn't come any closer if I were you." Harry said brandishing his wand. The defensive spells his cousin had taught him were never to be used on children under any circumstances, and he wasn't entirely sure about his mastery of the first year ones as Tom wouldn't let him practice, saying something about a "Trace".

"It's not like you know anything. I heard you telling that Longbottom kid that you were muggle raised." Vincent Crabbe said as he moved forward, certain of his victory. His father would be proud if he beat up the Boy-Who-Lived.

"I know alot more than you think. My cousin Tom used to sneak books out of his Grandma's house all the time and let me read them." Harry said as he pointed his wand at Crabbe. This was technically true, as Tom had handed over several carefully selected books that would be appropriate for a wizard Harry's age such as a rather ancient copy of Tales of Beetle the Bard, and the wizarding version of Alice In Wonderland (which was nearly identical to the muggle version except for the exquisitely drawn moving illustrations) that had belonged to Sirius Black and only survived Walburga's purging of the library by being well hidden.

Gregory Goyle apparently got what Harry was hinting at as his eyes widened and he nervously grabbed Crabbe's sleeve in an attempt to drag him to his bed where he would be safe.

"Lemme go." Crabbe said, pulling his arm away. He was apparently much slower on the uptake than Goyle who was usually the stupider one.

"Leave it alone Vince. Them Blacks got bad magic. He could hurt you bad." Goyle said, once again trying to pull his friend away. Crabbe, finally realizing what Harry was getting at, didn't offer any resistance this time.

Harry just crawled into bed after setting the protective charms his cousin taught him - leaving the blue hangings open - and stared at the two boys, making sure they knew he was staring. He had learned long ago that staring at someone would either upset or frighten them. Crabbe and Goyle appeared to be frightened, which was good as it would quite likely make them think twice about attacking him in the future.

Crabbe and Goyle shivered under Harry's gaze, silently vowing not to try messing with him again. Harry obviously wasn't the goody two-shoes innocent paragon of light he'd been portrayed as. Feeling as if they had just dodged something too terrible to imagine, they tried to go to sleep.

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Ron Weasley sat silently in the Slytherin Common Room waiting for Black to come in. He had wanted to crawl out of his brothers' shadows and now he had. He was regretting every minute of it. Every last one of the Slytherins from his fellow First-years to the Seventh-years that towered over him had gaped at him as if he were an exhibit at the zoo.

He knew that his family wouldn't react well even if the only reason he was here was that the Sorting Hat had suddenly decided to go insane. He knew breakfast was going to be hell. His brothers would never let him live this down even after he was put in Gryffindor where he belonged.

As he struggled to stay awake, he didn't notice that a certain rat had decided to take advantage of this unprecedented event and snuck off to do some pranking for old time's sake.

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Hufflepuffs took care of their own, even if they were placed in their house by a pissed-off Sorting Hat that didn't take too well to being insulted. So when one of the newest Hufflepuffs sat curled up on a couch in the darkest corner of the Common Room completely depressed, they took it upon themselves to cheer him up. The rather handsome Third-year Cedric Diggory was the first to come over and offer a hand of friendship to the distraught Malfoy heir. He was promptly rebuffed.

"Rude little bugger isn't he." One of the Fourth-years said as Cedric returned to his spot near the fire.

"Well, he obviously shows loyalty to someone, or the hat would've put him in Gryffindor instead, since the only other people I've seen who've had balls like his are in Gryffindor." Cedric said.

"The hat's broken." A second year piped up.

"So. He was put in Hufflepuff, so that means he's a Hufflepuff if only for now." said a rather burly Seventh-year who went over to where Draco sat alone, picked him up, carried him over to the rest of the group and set him down by the fire where a Fifth-year girl handed him a stick and a couple of marshmallows.


	6. Pettigrew's Just Desserts

The next morning, everyone in the Great Hall sat waiting for the Headmaster to arrive and announce that the Sorting Hat had been fixed and that the First years would be placed in their proper houses. Dumbledore did indeed arrive, but the announcement he gave had not been the one everyone expected.

"After spending the night consulting with the older portraits and studying notes left by the Founders and the headmasters that immediately succeeded them, I have learned that the young Mr. Black accidentally removed a curse that had been placed on the Sorting Hat centuries ago by an ancestor of his who had grown rather tired of the hat's rather...uh... caustic nature. As the hat was acting of its own volition during the Sorting, I am forced to acknowledge its decisions however poorly worded they were. That means for the First years, the house you were placed in last night will be your house for the rest of your schooling as there will be no resorting." said a rather tired looking Albus Dumbledore who obviously hadn't gotten any sleep the night before. His kindly mask was still in place, but if you looked at his eyes you could tell that he was furious that he had no power over the situation.

Tom had completely ignored the speech as he already knew that the Sorting would have to stand. The rules regarding the Sorting Hat were that any decision it makes is final, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. He was more concerned as to how to get Pettigrew to pay for his crimes. Remembering that Fudge wasn't the Great Idiot he came to be later in his term, that he didn't have a personal or political stake in Sirius Black yet as he hadn't yet escaped, and that the former member of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophies would quite likely love to see the man who turned a certain muggle street into a crater in 1981 swing, he realized that turning Pettigrew in this early in the game would be much easier as Fudge would be more likely to listen. After breakfast, he would ask Harry to write the Minister.

Many of the first years, including Ron, Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, and a Gryffindor Hermione were quite unhappy with the situation. Ron looked over at his older brothers who were too stunned by Dumbledore's proclamation to say anything. Draco tried to make himself invisible as he imagined his father's response to this outrage as his father would undoubtedly blame him. Crabbe and Goyle scooted as far away from Harry as they could get since there would be no escaping him by going to Slytherin. Hermione stared longingly at the table that contained her brothers and sisters in the pursuit of knowledge as well as the Boy-Who-Lived. Many of the First-years spent the rest of their breakfast staring longingly at the tables they believed they would have gone to if the hat hadn't been "freed" by Black. Some however were content with where they were placed despite the way the hat had phrased why they belonged.

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Alastor Moody hadn't been inactive in the years since he had heard a rather fantastic but true tale from the young Black heir. He immediately figured that Black had put the orphanage he was staying at with Harry under Fidelius when he couldn't find it again. Every time the boys left the wards though, he discreetly followed them, listing the hours in the logbook under the heading of a fictitious investigation. Since most Aurors did that to get extra break time, he was reasonably certain that he wouldn't be caught out.

Harry seemed to be such a normal boy when he saw him. The child would laugh and play with the other children when they were brought to the park. He would stare in wonder at the animals at the zoo. He would grow bored when the tour-guide droned on and on about whatever landmark the orphanage was visiting on their field trip and look as if he wanted to explore on his own. There weren't any of the signs of the madness that would consume him later on.

Black, who was aware of the scrutiny would often flash him the sign that meant "All is well." in the coded language Aurors used when they were undercover. Moody always wondered where he had learned it.

Every time he had been tempted to kill Harry to stop the threat from becoming a reality, he reminded himself that the Harry that destroyed the world had been an abused boy who had never known love and had been lied to his entire life about where he came from. The child's mother and great-grandmother had been heroes. The child himself had become a hero despite all odds before the hard life he had lived and the realization that he had been pushed onto the path that had led to him killing his own grandfather (who had been tricked into killing his own daughter and son-in-law rather than a "light-sided" family) by a man he had trusted completely. This Harry could be different.

Each time Moody's hand itched for his wand, he would turn away and find something else to do away from the child. Most frequently he would try to figure out what other factors could have contributed to the fall of Harry Potter. Over the course of about four years he had studied the texts on hereditary mental disorders and their treatments in case the problem had been one of nature as well as nurture. None of the disorders matched the few symptoms that Black had hinted at. Considering the possibility of a potion or a slow acting poison similar to what Black had been given, as the other Harry had learned to hide when he was in pain (how else would his friends not notice any problems the few times they visited him), he began to study every potions text and essay he came across.

Unbeknownst to Moody who like Tom believed that this was the only time they were going through the whole saving the world thing, he had lasted far longer than most of his counterparts had in History's prior efforts at correcting itself. Many a time, he had given in to an urge, or uttered a wrong word to Dumbledore despite his Constant Vigilance. When the world turned to flame and ash after Voldemort had risen unchallenged as Tom told him he would, Moody had always taken it as divine punishment for killing an innocent. Time knew that there was always hope that they would get it right next time though. The fact that Harry made it to Hogwarts was a good sign, even if they had to tread carefully around Dumbledore.

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Tom had been pissed to discover that Ron had let Scabbers out of his cage so he could play with him (the Slytherins blamed all of the pranks Pettigrew pulled on the Weasley twins giving their reputations quite the boost) but quite relieved when an hour's searching found him in Blaise Zabini's trunk nibbling through the boy's stack of sweets (which Tom agreed to replace as he was currently the rat's owner). Tom gave Ron one hell of a talking to (yelling at) about messing with other people's property, but calmed down when he realized that Ron was lonely, hadn't meant any harm, and had wanted to be near something familiar. Ron had nearly ruined everything though, and he himself would ruin everything if he kept yelling in earshot of the rat.

Fudge came to visit Harry - who had innocently written that he'd never met a Minister of Magic before and would like to meet one (which he actually would as he couldn't believe such power-hungry idiots could exist in real life) - two days later. He left two hours later with a "Rat who turned into a man and abused two of the Weasley boys who had kept it a secret because they believed he would kill the rest of their family". It was the best story Tom could think up on short notice, and Harry's delivery was perfect.

The next day the Daily Prophet's headlines were all about the crimes Peter Pettigrew had committed and admitted to under Veritaserum which actually included the abuse of the poor innocent Percy Weasley while he was asleep. The day after that, the headlines were all about the newly freed Sirius Black who had been framed by the Villain Pettigrew. On the third day, the headlines were about Fudge's tireless pursuit in justice and Harry Potter's heroic actions that led to the discovery of a Death Eater who had wormed his way into the home of an innocent family in the guise of a household pet that had somehow gotten loose. The headlines at the end of the week were of how Pettigrew had been executed in a manner no wizard had for several centuries.

It seemed that Fudge really did want the one responsible for the disaster on November 2nd 1981 to swing.


	7. A Discussion With Malfoy

Sirius Black smiled as he made his way to the house his Great-Uncle Alphard left him. While Fudge had won his favor by making sure that justice was done swiftly and in a manner that would ensure that Pettigrew's misdeeds were remembered for centuries to come, he would watch out as the Minister also kissed the asses of people like Malfoy. In Sirius' opinion, hanging had been too good for the traitor Wormtail even if it was the most shameful way for a wizard to die.

He had been whistling a rather jaunty tune as he made his way towards the front walk. However, when he saw the condition of the place that had been his home for four years, his whistling stopped. Someone had taken it upon themselves to set his house on fire while he was gone. It was only the fact that the three story "Cottage" had been made of stone that had prevented it from burning down entirely. As it was, all that was left of the quaint thatch roof was a few blackened beams, and all of the windows had been broken in the blaze. It would quite likely take more than nine months for Alphard's home to become fit for his son and godson to live in. There was no way it would be ready by the Christmas holidays.

Cursing as the only other property he owned was 12 Grimwauld Place, he apparated to London to check the condition of the house he refused to call home.

* * *

Tom had been wandering about musing over what to do about Dumbledore - who wasn't truly evil (Fawkes would have left him if he was) but was entirely willing to do terrible things for the "Greater Good" under the belief that the ends justified the means - when he saw Lucius Malfoy. He had thought that the man would have come much sooner but guessed that he had waited a week and a half to either keep himself from crucioing his son or to teach Draco some some obscure lesson. Either way, it didn't look good for the boy.

Deciding to take care of this problem before it got out of hand, he walked up to Mr. Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy knew something of what he was after an encounter they had when Tom was "nine". He didn't know the specifics, and had completely misguessed Tom's reason for returning, but he did know to take advice that Tom gave him as it always paid off. Tom occasionally gave Malfoy a few useful tidbits here and there as payment for staying away from Harry.

"Mr. Malfoy, may I ask the reason for this visit?" Tom said, catching the older man's attention.

"My son's sorting." Lucius said tersely.

"Ah, yes. A fortunate occurrence was it not?" Tom said with a smile.

"Fortunate?!" Lucius nearly shouted.

"Yes, quite fortunate. Not only has the boy automatically gained a rather large group of useful allies to whom it would only matter that the boy was a Hufflepuff rather than how he got there, but the boy's placement in Hufflepuff may help dispel certain...suspicions when the other children who were supposedly misplaced prove they belong to the houses they are in. The votes of Hufflepuff Alumni on the Board of Governors could be useful as well." Tom said, deciding to point out the ways Draco's placement could help the Malfoy family first before going into the personal benefits for the boy himself.

"I never really considered that." Lucius said musing over the countless possibilities that had just opened up quite by accident.

"There are also several personal benefits for Draco himself. In the short time I have been acquainted with the boy, I have noticed that he seems to have the same sense of... for lack of a better word... entitlement that caused Asmosus Gaunt to blow through his family's fortune before his death. The Hufflepuff's code of ethics could help deal with this behavior, and possibly help with his unfortunate habit of speaking before engaging his brain." Tom said.

"There is that as well." Lucius said wincing slightly at the thought of his son being stupid enough to squander the Malfoy fortune.

"If I may be so bold to suggest, you can teach the boy the value of money and help him gain the ambition he seems to be lacking by tying his allowance to his academic performance. I know that there is a very good chance that he won't be able to outperform the squib descended Granger girl as such prodigies turn up about once every generation or so - the last one being the adopted daughter of Harold Evans - but he should be able to place quite highly." Tom continued, bringing up another topic he had wanted to discuss at great length with the more influential purebloods, the truth behind the so called "Muggleborns".

"How do you know that this Granger girl is squib descended, I don't recognize that surname." Lucius said, taking the bait.

"I had the damn hardest time finding out as Muggles are such poor record keepers and have only come up with a reliable paternity test in the last few years, but there was an old family journal in which Granger's great-great-grandfather decided to forgive his wife's infidelity and raise the results of her affair as his own, probably because he was incapable of fathering children himself. The listed father was the squib son of an American wizard of German descent who had gone out to sea. Since the Grangers had a rather bad habit of not listing the surnames of the women who married into the family before then, I have not been able to discover the threshold number of squibs necessary to bring magic back to a line. Considering the unfortunate fact that it sometimes takes as little as one generation to forget that there was magic in the family, it is no surprise that people such as "The Little Know-It-All" Granger don't know how to behave when they return to the magical world as their families have forgotten where they used to belong." Tom said, smiling as he saw that Lucius was thinking. He could tell that Lucius found his idea somewhat credible, more palatable than the idea that magic could suddenly spring up out of nowhere amongst muggles, and less ludicrous than the idea of the helpless, useless, bumbling creatures he saw muggles as stealing magic.

"I'll take everything you told me into consideration." Lucius said before bowing slightly and making his way towards the Hufflepuff common room.

Tom smiled as he made his way down to the Slytherin Common Room. He'd done his good deed for the day, and he would soon rattle the cages of a bunch of Purebloods when their beliefs about muggleborns were turned on their ears. Hermione had been the perfect pick, as when Malfoy investigates her family background in an attempt to disprove his "theory", he would find several prominent wizarding names as well as an ancient family that was thought to have died out long ago. The results of Flint's investigation should be in soon as well. Once they were, his fellow Slytherins should ease up on Dean Thomas as there'd be proof that he's a half-blood.

* * *

Draco was rooted to the spot with fear when he saw his father enter the Hufflepuff common room. Rather than come straight to him, Lucius Malfoy took the time to inspect his surroundings, noting the "lived-in" look the place had as well as the pair of Seventh-years rough-housing in front of the fireplace. Draco was about to wet himself when his father finally approached him.

"While I am not entirely happy with your sorting, I realize that it could have been worse." Lucius Malfoy said looking down at his son.

"Worse?" Draco said amazed that he wasn't getting a lecture on how he had shamed his family and all of his ancestors going back to the Middle-Ages.

"You could have been in Gryffindor." Lucius said as he led his son away for a private discussion.

When Draco returned to his common room, he was relieved. Things weren't nearly as bad as he had thought they would be. Not only had his father not disowned him, but he had also given him permission, in fact he had actally encouraged him to make friends. When the group by the fire waved him over, he went without having to be dragged (much to the surprise of everyone who had been waiting patiently for him to come out of his shell).


	8. Muggleborns? What are those?

Hermione Granger sat with her latest letter from home trying to figure out what she felt. At the end of September, her parents' house had gotten broken into, but nothing had been taken. All of the family's personal papers as well as General Granger's private journal had been found out of place. When the Police arrived in response to the burglar alarm, they had reported hearing a loud pop that sounded very much like a gunshot. When they entered the house fearing that one of her parents (who were out at the time) had been injured, they found the house empty.

All of the signs pointed to a wizard having broken into her home, but why would one do so? What was so interesting about her old report cards? Why would her birth certificate, her parents' marriage license, and several other papers pertaining to her family interest a wizard? What did Great-Grandpa Granger write that was so important?

Deciding to do the one thing that always helped her when she couldn't find answers for her questions, she headed to the Library.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy carefully studied the information that his agent had copied for him. The grading reports from the muggle school proved that the girl was a prodigy as "young" Thomas Black had hinted. The teachers had constantly begged the Grangers to advance the girl to a grade that matched her abilities, apparently to no avail. A passage in the ancestor's journal had been as Black had reported. Granger's mother's maiden name was somewhat familiar as well. There had been a half-blood in his year with that surname if he remembered correctly.

Taking the blood sample he had another agent collect while the girl was asleep, he did the spell that would give him a complete list of her ancestors going back ten generations. He recognized the surname Black right away. The others he would have to research.

Taking the blood collected from the "muggleborn" in Slytherin, he ended up confirming the results of Flint's investigation. Dean Thomas' father was in fact a pureblood wizard he himself had killed.

The boy with the unlikely surname of Finch-Fletchley turned out to be the descendant of the now defunct Fletcher family.

Every last one of the Muggleborns he tested were descendants of a wizarding family. Some were descendants of families that were currently prominent, such as the grandson of the Parkinson squib that had been dumped in Whitechapel in 1885. Others were descendants of families long thought to have died out like the Fletchers who apparently became the Fletchleys and married into a wealthy muggle family called Finch if his grasp of the meaning behind hyphenated names was correct. Some weren't even muggleborn, but were the half-blood offspring of wandering wizards and muggles who weren't told about magic until their children got invited to attend Hogwarts instead.

It would seem that Tom's theory that all "Muggleborns" had magical ancestors was true. The idea of Muggles stealing magic was just as preposterous as it sounded.

* * *

Alexander Nott looked at the missive Lucius Malfoy had sent him. It would seem that the Mudblood who was constantly outshining his son in the realm of academics was the product of several of the more brilliant families coming together by accident. Intelligence was in the girl's blood as well as the magic that had waited for so long to find a vessel worthy enough for it. He would have to find a way to get the girl for his own family before one of the other families took notice of her and snatched her up.

Perhaps an offer of Patronage...

* * *

Tom watched in bemusement as Theodore Nott approached Hermione Granger in a completely non-threatening manner.

"I wonder what's going on there?" he murmured as he watched Nott hold a civil conversation with the girl.

"My father think's Nott's jumping the gun. We're waiting a few years to see if her grades consistently remain in the top five before making any offers." Flint said, gesturing to the conversation between Nott and Granger.

Tom was taken aback for a moment until he realized that someone as talented as Hermione could be quite valuable to whichever family she allied herself with. She'd been wasted on Ron anyways. The idiot didn't bother proposing until after she told him she was pregnant, causing one hell of a scandal and ruining her reputation in the wizarding world which still cared about such things. If they had been betrothed at the time, the damage would have been far less due to an ancient custom that had mostly fallen out of practice in which the family into which the girl was marrying would make sure she was fertile before completing the marriage contract. As it was, Hermione had lost her job and had been forced to become a housewife, which didn't suit her at all. All of that wasted potential in the few years before she was killed had been a damn shame.

"I think there's a good chance of that happening. She was able to do about half of the first-year spells about a month after being informed she was a witch." Tom said. He wasn't exaggerating either.

Flint's eyes widened at this. He then turned and looked over at Granger, looking her over as if seeing her for the first time.

"Pity she wasn't prettier." he muttered, obviously considering snatching her up for the glory of the Flint family.

"She could be one of those "Ugly Duckling" cases." Tom said. Whatever family got Hermione wouldn't hurt her as they wouldn't want to risk the source of future heirs. Heirs that would hopefully be born with her brains and talent.

"Ugly duckling?" Flint asked bemusedly.

"It's a muggle story about a pair of ducks who hatch a bunch of eggs. One of the ducklings was rather ugly and awkward compared to their other offspring, and they never let it forget it. It turns out later that the odd duckling was actually a swan." Tom said.

"Ah." Flint said as he straightened his hair and robes and checked his teeth before walking over to Granger.

Tom had a feeling that Granger's parents would be sorting through several marriage contracts by the end of the year.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy looked down at the letter that Parkinson had sent him. Apparently the Parkinsons were forced to honor the centuries old agreement that they had with the Fletchers now that a surviving Magical heir had been found. He had hoped to arrange a marriage between their daughter and his son, but that couldn't be helped now. He would just have to find another family of similar stature. The fact that his son was in a house that was traditionally considered to be allied with the "Light" may have expanded the pool of candidates exponentially. Families that had been barred to his family for generations due to house association would now be available to his son and the future of the Malfoy family. As Thomas had said, Draco's sorting had been fortunate.

He would have to compile a list of potentail candidates soon. It was a good thing Thomas had given him that cryptic warning about the Fletcher heir before he made any agreements he would be forced to break, or rather that Magic would break for him at a cost to his family.


End file.

Harry Potter