Those Who Favor Fire (Drarry) [COMPLETE]

Sorting Surprise

September 1st found Ron Weasley, his sister Ginny Weasley, and his girlfriend Hermione Granger sitting in a train compartment on the Hogwarts express, pondering upon the whereabouts of one Harry James Potter.

"Are you absolutely certain he said he would see you on the train?" Hermione asked for the millionth time, each one more irritating than the last.

Ron rolled his eyes as he stuffed a whole pumpkin pastt into his mouth. "Yes 'Ermione. 'S th' on'y thin' 'e said." He swallowed. "Cor blimey, Hermione, I don't have any bloody more to say about it! He's got red hair now and he was dressed really cool. How the bollocks am I supposed to know why he's not on the bleedin' train?"

"Perhaps something ill-fated has occurred to him, it only stands to reason, as he informed you he would rendezvous with you on the locomotive but he has neglected to appear," Hermione said smartly, but also annoyingly.

"Good, we can finally get the rest of his money and I can stop wearing these mental poor people clothes." Ron said, pointing to his fake shirt with holes in it. "Fit for a codger, these are."

"No fair," said Ginny poutily, crossing her very short skirted legs and no sleeved arms, "I wanted to do it myself."

"Well at least now you can go after Snape or whoever you're into this week."

Ginny crumpled her face in disgust at the thought and then seemed to reconsider the idea. Ron became very uncomfortable.

"And now no one will be able to convict you of murder," Hermione said, opening a book as she always did. "And if he's truly deceased, I can stop gallivanting around on these ludicrous adventures and concentrate on more studious matters in the library. And I'll be able to purchase a multitude of extravagant publications."

They spent the rest of the trip discussing what they would buy with Harry's money, and how glad they were that they no longer had to pretend to be his friend or enjoy his company or feign concern for his stupid dead parent situation. Finally they would have a perfectly normal, unadventurous year at Hogwarts.

But little did they know they were wrong.

And little did they know how wrong they were.

They were very wrong.

~*~*~*~*~ Time Skip ~*~*~*~*~

Hogwarts looked like it usually did, having been magically repaired over the summer after the Battle of Hogwarts, which had taken place there. The great hall had its magic floating candles and magic ceiling and magic students. There was only one magic element missing. Everyone was whispering and wondering. Where was The Boy Who Lived??

Professor McGonagall was determined to carry on as normal as she brought out the sorting hat and its stool.

"When your name is called, you will step forward, sit on the stool, and wear the hat. When the hat announces you-"

"Please stop talking, Professor McGonagall," The hat suddenly said in a booming voice.

Professor McGonagall obeyed, but only because she was so surprised that the hat had interrupted her, a thing that had never happened in all her years and she was pretty sure the years before in recorded Hogwarts History. Back in the day, hats knew their place.

"It seems I made an error seven years ago when I sorted a certain student. I will correct that mistake now." The hat waited for the shocked whispers to die down. It took about five minutes. "HARRY POTTER!" The hat said.

Suddenly the doors to the Great Hall burst open and the Boy Who Lived Himself strode confidently through, accompanied by an explosion of light from his fiery wings. The whispers erupted again from all sides as he walked down the center of the hall to the front of the hall. People pointed at his hair, his katanas, his cool clothes, his lack of glasses, and his taller hair. Harry didn't care. He was who he was now, and no one could change that. He sat on the chair and picked up the hat. He did not put it on his head though, because it would look silly for him to wear it. Besides, it would mess up his sweet hair. Instead Harry stared straight at Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling manipulatively, as the hat spoke to him telepathically.