Harry is a Little Ho(a)rse at Hogwarts

by Teraunce

1-16: A Sorting Crusade (edited 6/27/22)

Chapter 1-16: A Sorting Crusade

(Dawn’s Note: The actual sorting conversations were reconstructed from interviews.)

The looming shadow opens its mouth and calls in a booming voice, “Firs’ Years! Firs’ Years over here!”

Neville blinks furiously to clear his eyes as he cautiously calls back, “H-Hagrid! Is t-that you?”

Their eyes finally clearing, the nine get to see Hagrid’s big hairy face break out into a smile as he looks them over. “Glad tah see yah finally found some friends, Neville. Especially that thar lot.”

Neville just nervously blushes and nods in agreement with Hagrid’s words. Seemingly embarrassing Neville enough, Hagrid resumes calling out as he starts making his way down the path. “Any more Firs’ Years!? C’mon and Follow Me, but Mind Yer Step!”

The group quietly follows right along behind Hagrid and so gets to see how narrow, steep, slippery and dark the path is. Giving each other a brief glance, Lightning speaks up, “Guess it’s on us to light the way.” Putting actions to words, he lights his horn as brightly as he can, with the rest with horns following suit before they resume hurrying after Hagrid.

Hagrid, meanwhile, rapidly approaches a bend in the path when he turns around to point something out. Instead, he gets startled by the lights. “Who’s casting light…?” He then recovers and continues on, trying to pretend nothing happened. “’Round this bend yeh’ll get yer first sight of Hogwarts. Please put out your lights.”

Complying with his request, the group round the bend behind Hagrid. They barely manage to get out of the way of those following them as the path opens up into a lake-shore beach as black as pitch. Awestruck, they look over the lake and see the many twinkling lights reflected from the windows of the great big castle perched upon a mountain overlooking it.

Lightning finally manages to utter out, “It’s no Canterlot Castle, but it’s pretty.” The others nod their agreement to that as they continue staring.

Their woolgathering is cut short by Hagrid calling out, “Firs’ Years in the boats thar! No more’n four to a boat!”

Turning, they look to where Hagrid is pointing and see a fleet of little boats. Doing some quick math, the group of nine splits into three groups of three each, so none is left alone before rushing over and managing to snag them.

Hagrid calls out as they are still settling in, “Everyone In?” Looking over everyone and receiving a chorus of agreement, Hagrid swings his lamp forward with a cry of “Forward!”

With that, the boats start moving on their own across the quiescent black lake. The journey is made chiefly in silence except for quiet pointing out of things being seen.

This quiet reverie is broken as they approach a nearly invisible cliff by Hagrid calling out as he folds nearly in half, “Heads Down NOW!”

The group hurriedly follows his example, bending over to avoid being decapitated as they pass through an ivy curtain into a cool dark tunnel lit only by Hagrid’s lamp.

Well, lit only by Hagrid’s lamp for a moment as those with horns relight them. After only a minute and seeing Hagrid sit back up, the group also sits up and looks around at the area beneath the castle.

Unfortunately, there isn’t much to see, but fortunately, before they can get bored, their boats bump into a rough stone dock.

Hagrid swings his lamp to peer at all of them as they disembark. “Everyone still here? I don’t want tah have tah fish any of yah from the lake.”

Receiving nods and sounds of agreement from them all, Hagrid turns and starts marching up a rough, narrow passage in the rock. Following along at the front, the group soon emerges on an expansive damp well-lit lawn before a large castle gate. Well-lit enough to put their horns out.

Hagrid turns to look over the spread-out gaggle of Firsties and, seeing they’re all there, turns to knock thrice on the tremendously great big oak door.

The door opens, and Hagrid greets the witch standing in the great big hall with, “The Firs’ Years are all here, Professor McGonagall.”

McGonagall nods back and steps aside. “Thank you, Hagrid. I can take things from here.”

She blocks the way after letting him in until he can disappear into a doorway in the right wall. Once the door finishes closing, she makes a come hither motion and leads them deeper into the hall.

Passing through, there is quiet murmured ahhing and oohing at the hall lined with great flaming torches with big old flagstones and big enough to hold court in. Noises from the grand door Hagrid went in tell them that is where the food probably is.

However, art appreciation and food daydreaming are cut short when Professor McGonagall coughs to get their attention by a different, plainer door before opening it and heading in.

Following her in, they find a small empty classroom but for a lecture stand. Cramming in, they all just manage to fit with standing room only as Professor McGonagall stands behind the lecture stand with a door behind her.

Once all in, Professor McGonagall begins her lecture. “I’d like to welcome you all to Hogwarts. The start of the term feast will begin shortly, but before that, there are a few things that need to be said.

“First, when you enter, you shall be sorted into your House before sitting with them. They are your family while you are here. You will eat with them, sleep in the same dormitory as them, and spend your free time with them in your House’s common rooms.

“The Four Houses are Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor. All of them have noble histories and produced great witches and wizards. Try to live up to them as your conduct can give, or lose, your House points. At the end of the year, whichever House has the most points gets the prestigious House Cup.

“Secondly, the Sorting Ceremony shall begin in a few minutes. Please do try and fix your appearance before you appear before the whole school.

“Lastly, wait here and keep yourself entertained until I come back for you,” she finishes before managing to wiggle open the door behind her and squeeze through the gap.

The group turns to Ron, and Lightning asks the obvious question, “how do they sort us, Ron?”

Ron shrugs back at them. “The trio told me it was some sort of test. Said it hurt a lot, but I think they were joking.”

They glance at each other, shivering at the thought of it hurting, before hurriedly agreeing it was probably a joke.

Or maybe not, as several students start screaming as translucent figures pass through them. One of them, a fat frocked figure, finishes up as they head to the ceiling, “-should forgive and forget. He deserves another chance.”

Another wearing ruff and tights respond to the little monk, “my dear Friar, we’ve given him many chances. Peeves isn’t even a proper ghost and still manages to give us a bad name. I wish we could…. What are you students doing down there?”

Lightning cautiously waves a hoof. “We’re waiting to be sorted. I didn’t know this world has ghosts too.”

They all stare at a point above Lightning’s head while whispering to each other before the Friar forces a smile. “I hope to see some of you in Hufflepuff! It was my old House, you know.”

“That’s enough of that, away with the lot of you. The sort is about to begin,” Professor McGonagall says as she enters the room and makes shooing motions at the ghosts.

Once they are gone, Professor McGonagall sternly says, “Follow me in a single file line,” before walking out.

The group of nine manage to stick together in line as they follow her into a magnificent banquet hall. Marveling at the floating candlesticks, grand ornaments, and sky-like ceiling, Hermione tells them quietly, “I read about the ceiling. It’s enchanted to duplicate the sky above.”

The rest of them nod dumbly as they now notice the tables laden with students and ghosts staring at them curiously. Averting their eyes from the students, the group huddles together by the entrance.

Trying to spot Professor McGonagall, they see her setting up a stool and placing a dirty patchwork wizard hat upon it. Hermione asks as she stares at it, “are we supposed to pull a rabbit from it?”

Sweetie just shivers. “I’m glad Rarity isn’t here. She’d burn that thing.”

Apple Bloom nods. “Ah am as well, even if there ain’t nothing wrong with a little dirt.”

Scootaloo shivers for a different reason. “Whatever it is, it’s putting out emotions.”

Lightning gently commands the others. “Whatever it is, we let it speak its part first.”

As if on cue, the hat’s brim opens up along a more significant tear, and it starts singing,

The hall applauds as Ron says out loud, “the trio are dead. They were going on about wrestling trolls, not trying on a hat.”

The rest of them shake their heads bemusedly at the thought while the clapping slowly diminishes.

Their attention is drawn to Professor McGonagall as she approaches the stool with a long scroll in hand. “First Years! When I call your name, you will approach, sit on the stool, and then put on the hat. After you are sorted, you will get off the stool, return the hat to it, and sit with your new Housemates. Abbott, Hannah.”

A girl with blonde pigtails approaches and sits on the stool before putting on the comically oversize hat. Not a moment later, the hat bellows out “Hufflepuff,” and away she goes.

Professor McGonagall’s next name makes the group take notice. “Belle, Sweetie.”

Sweetie tries her best to emulate her sister as she walks over to the stool. Daintily picking up the hat in one hoof, she carefully climbs onto the stool, ensuring her tail is coiled around the base before putting the hat over her horn onto her head.

As soon as she does so, a voice speaks in her mind. ~What have we here? A unicorn alien to here. Going about boldly and undisguised? Then again, you’re far too used to danger. Slytherin is right out. You’d be alright in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, but your bravery deserves only~ “GRYFFINDOR!” the hat finishes out loud.

Shakily Sweetie climbs off the stool and puts the hat back on it. Making her way over to her table, she barely sits down before Professor McGonagall calls out, “Bloom, Apple.”

Apple Bloom firmly walks over to the stool and, wasting no effort, grabs the hat, hops up on the seat, and places said hat upon her head. Immediately upon doing so, she hears, ~Another alien pony? Also far too used to danger. I should split you up into Hufflepuff, where your loyalty and natural tribal talents would do you well, but since you decide to brave the high air with your friends,~ “Gryffindor!” the hat bellows once more.

Apple Bloom hops off the stool and places the hat on it, giving the hat a gentle pat before making her way over to sit next to Sweetie Belle.

After them was a girl named Susan going to Hufflepuff, a boy named Terry ending up in Ravenclaw, and onwards, a few more down the line, with only a girl named Lavender going to Gryffindor, Professor McGonagall calls out “Dawn, Half-Light.”

Nervously the earth pony waves to everyone as she walks to the hat, everyone’s eyes on her as most realize there was an eighth Equestrian hidden in the mass. Carefully, she picks up the hat, sits on the stool, and puts on the hat before asking ~hello?~

~Hello to you as well, Dawn. I would say your smarts would make you a great Ravenclaw, but your bravery in risking it all to be in the story precludes that, Bringer of Happy Beginnings. Your reward and punishment are apparent enough, for you are to be in the thick of things in,~ “Gryffindor!” the hat announces again. Before she can pull the hat off, it adds a final message, ~the forest has many wolves, and they like to bark.~

Shaking, Dawn gingerly hops off the stool and places the hat back before wobbling her way to a seat at the Gryffindor table, only snapping her head up because the next name is “Dursley, Dudley.”

With slight nervousness on his face from how the other tables are enviously gazing at the Gryffindors, Dudley walks up to the stool and takes the hat in one clawed hand before effortlessly hopping onto it. Putting the hat on his head, he is greeted with, ~What do we have here? A former muggle!? No, I won’t tell your secret, Dudley, but you are a difficult one. Your unwillingness to take a stand in school takes Gryffindor off the table, but your bravery and boldness in coming here aren’t fit for Slytherin either. You have Loyalty aplenty, however, so time to split the difference. You will make a fine,~ “Hufflepuff!”

The whole hall sits stunned for a second at that declaration before the Hufflepuffs manage to start clapping and cheering as Dudley makes his way over to them. Following him next to Hufflepuff is someone named Justin. After him, Professor McGonagall calls out “Granger, Hermione,” causing her to jump.

Still partially lost in thought, the fluorescent filly makes her way up to the stool and cautiously picks the hat up. Hopping up onto the seat, she places the hat on her head and thinks at the hat, ~I’d like to be in Gryffindor.~

The hat smartly counters, ~and with that bit of intelligence, I should place you in Ravenclaw. You would do very well there.~

Hermione shakes her head. ~I can already tell the rest of my friends except Dudley will be in Gryffindor. I’m already being brave by being here in a body that I wasn’t born with.~

~With that loyalty, you should be in Hufflepuff,~ the hat teases. ~Still, your point about bravery has worth. Pity you wouldn’t take Ravenclaw, but it had then better be,~ “Gryffindor!” the hat bellows again, causing groans of dismay from Ravenclaw and dark looks from the Slytherins, even if from their point of view she is just a mud-blood.

Hermione hops off the stool and sends ~thank you~ to the hat before placing it on the stool. Calmly she walks over to Gryffindor and sits down to wait. They don’t have long to wait until Professor McGonagall calls out, “Longbottom, Neville.”

Looking extremely nervous, Neville stumbles his way over to the stool, where he manages to somehow get on the seat with the hat over his eyes. Wisely, it waits for a few seconds for him to settle before opening with, ~and here we have a Longbottom. I sorted both your parents and gran and what fine brave folks they were/are. It had better be-~

~Hufflepuff!~ Neville interrupts the sorting hat. ~T-that’s where all the near s-squibs go. I-I’m not b-brave, just here b-because some d-dumb prophecy got my parents killed and made Dumbledore interested in me.~

~Are you done?~ The hat asks back before more sympathetically continuing, ~I’m sorry for your loss. I really am. You honestly would do well in Hufflepuff, but you need to gain confidence, and the best place for that is-~

~Hufflepuff!~ Neville insists again.

The sorting hat tries to get the train re-railed. ~You aren’t a near-Squib, and that isn’t where they go anyways. Now, as I was saying, you belong in-~

~Hufflepuff!~ Neville interrupts for the third time.

~THAT’S IT!~ The hat roars in Neville’s mind, ~You need to grow a backbone in the right way.~ Before continuing out loud, “YOU ARE GOING IN GRYFFINDOR, And That’s Final!”

Everyone stares as Neville sheepishly scurries towards the Gryffindor table with the hat on his head. A cough from Professor McGonagall send him back to the stool to return the hat before he makes his way back to his seat with his head down and cheeks aflame.

To get everyone's attention, Professor McGonagall then taps her goblet with a fork as a makeshift bell. “After that near-hatstall, next up is MacDougal, Morag.” Following him came Malfoy, who barely had the hat touch his head before he was placed in Slytherin with his servant bodyguards.

Several more sorts later, including an interesting bit of identical twins being sorted in different houses, Professor McGonagall calls out, “Songwing-Dash, Scootaloo.”

Said named student practically flies over in her excitement, wings flapping gently to give extra speed, before using a wing to put on the hat while vaulting onto the stool. Immediately the hat speaks to her, ~I get you’re excited but watch it! Sorting you is easy, but I’m glad I don’t have to sort your sister. Her Element would force me to put her in Hufflepuff, but her attitude firmly lands her in Gryffindor. You’re crazy bravery just puts you straight in,~ “GRYFFINDOR!” the hat ends.

Scootaloo hops off the stool and barely manages to contain herself long enough to put the hat on the seat before really flying to a chair next to AB and the rest, who cheer happily.

Professor McGonagall gives the cheer a chance to subside before calling out the next name, “Sunrise, Lightning,” causing those in the know to sit up excitedly.

Hiding his nervousness behind a confident smile, Lightning approaches the hat and grabs it in one hoof before hopping onto the stool with help from his wings. Putting the hat on his head, he is immediately greeted with, ~You are a difficult one, Lightning Sunrise, or as you were once known, Harry Potter. No, I won’t tell anyone else who you are, but I am glad to see you live. Your birth parents were in Gryffindor, as your adoptive sister is.

~However, your ambition to see things made right and your innate nature means you would go well with the sneaky Slytherins. Your raw intelligence also means you would do well in Ravenclaw. Spread you Equestrians out, but your loyalty towards your friends, which would make you a nice Hufflepuff, and bravery on your adventures make you a natural Gryffindor.

~Know that you could have done well in any house, but you best follow your birth parents into,~ “Gryffindor!” the hat finishes with an exuberant shout.

Lightning thinks back a ~Thank You!~ before hopping off the stool and heading to sit by his friends at the Gryffindor table, amidst cheers from some of the head table and his housemates.

After Lightning, there were just four left to sort. Someone named Dean came to Gryffindor, the next person went to Ravenclaw, and then Professor McGonagall called out, “Weasley, Ron.”

Looking a bit green, Ron approaches the stool and grabs the hat in one hoof. He then awkwardly climbs on the seat before placing the hat on his head. Immediately it tells him, ~A Weasley? I know what to do with you!~ The hat then shouts out, “Gryffindor!” Making Ron’s sort almost as fast as Draco’s.

With Ron sorted and seated, amidst cheers from his tables, the last person who gets called up is gets placed in Slytherin.

Professor McGonagall then rolls up her scroll and takes the stool and hat to sit by the staff table. Ron, meanwhile, mumbles, “I hope the food gets here soon.”

As if answering his question, a beaming old bearded man, who must be Professor Dumbledore, stands up and opens his arms wide as if to hug them all. Opening his mouth, he greets them all with, “Welcome! Welcome, all to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin feasting, I’d like to say a few words: Nitwit, Blubber, Oddment, and Tweak! Thank You!”

He then sits down amid cheers and clapping. The firsties look at Percy as Lightning asks, “Is he alright? He seems a bit….”

“Mad?” Percy answers. “He’s one of the brightest wizards in the world. It comes with a few eccentricities. Would any of you like some potatoes?”

Looking down, the group sees the platters are now filled with all manner of dishes and the goblets full of pumpkin juice. Nodding as one, Percy serves them all some potatoes before they return the favor, helping to serve each other a bit of as many delectable items as they can.

Just as they’re about to start eating, a longing sigh echoes behind them. Looking behind him, Lightning takes one of the platters and offers it to the ghost. “Want some?”

The ghost in the ruff shakes his head sadly. “I can’t. I haven’t needed to for 500 years, but still. Oh, where are my manners? I’m Gryffindor’s resident ghost. Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service, otherwise unfortunately known as Nearly-Headless Nick.”

The boy named Seamus asks, “How can you be nearly headless?”

Irritably, Nick states, “like this!” as he pulls on his left ear, and his whole head falls onto his shoulder, held on by only a thin flap of skin.

Immediately most of the first years turn varying shades of green as they look away. Looking pleased with himself, Nick puts his head back correctly on his shoulders and coughs. “So, new Gryffindors! I hope this year we’ll win the House Cup. The last time we won it was seven years ago, and the Bloody Baron over there is becoming unbearable now that Slytherin has won it six years in a row.”

Apple Bloom swallows and manages to get out, “Sure! Ah’ll help you get it if’n you never show us that trick again.”

The rest hurriedly nod in agreement before looking over at the Slytherin table. What they see is an unhappy Malfoy sitting next to a bloody ghost, causing them to chuckle.

With the mood restored, they all dig into their food, with the only conversation being comments on what is tastiest.

Just when they think they can’t eat anymore, the food vanishes, leaving the plates sparkling clean before filling up with every type of dessert imaginable.

Somehow managing to fit more in their bellies, the conversation turns to more simple things. Seamus, Ron, and Neville discuss their families. Hermione and Percy what to expect with lessons. Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie what they think they’ll learn.

All conversation comes to a halt when Lightning cries out in pain as he looks at the head table before letting out a soothed sound of relief. Closing his eyes and then opening them, Lightning asks Percy, “Who are the Professor in the turban and the dark-haired professor by him? Also, thanks to whoever soothed that pain.”

Those present glance at each other before Percy answers, “none of us cast a spell on you, but to answer your other question: the man in the purple turban is Professor Quirrell. He’s this year’s Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. The other is Professor Snape, who teaches Potions. He’s wanted Professor Quirrell’s job for years and knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts.”

Nodding in thanks, conversation and eating slowly resumes while Lightning watches the two professors while eating, but they never look back at him.

Eventually, even dessert must end, and the food left on the plates vanishes again. Professor Dumbledore stands once again and lets the hall quiet down before beginning, “Just a few more words now that we’re all full. I have a few start-of-term notices to tell you.

“First, the Forbidden Forest is, as the name suggests, forbidden to all students.

“Second, Mr. Filch asked me to remind you all that magic should not be used in the halls.

“Third, Quidditch Trials will be held during the second whole week of this term. Please speak with Madam Hooch if you are interested.

Fourth, as you have already probably noticed, the Weasleys are ponies, as are several other First Years. Over the summer, we were contacted by another world. The remarkable thing is the connection point transfigures humans into ponies and vice versa. Even more impressive is that those who have passed through can learn to mimic this ability.

“On a related note, the laws on wand ownership have been modified. Do not be surprised if next year we have several more non-humans attend. I already know of at least one dragon-pony hybrid who plans on attending. I expect you to treat them like any other student.

“Lastly, this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is forbidden to anyone who does not wish to die a painful death.”

Lightning pokes Percy with a hoof and asks, “he’s not serious on that last point, is he?”

Percy frowns as he answers their seeking faces, “must be. Usually, he tells everyone why, however. He hasn’t even told us Prefects, which is odd.”

Dumbledore recaptures their attention as he boisterously calls out, “And now let us sing the school song before bed!”

They all notice the teachers’ smiles become relatively fixed as Dumbledore flicks his wand and a golden string of words appears. Once they are all there, Dumbledore commands, “Everyone pick your favorite tune and GO!”

The resulting cacophony was painful, but the ponies managed to force a sort of order onto the Gryffindor table as they sang:

The exceptions to the Gryffindor unity were, of course, the Terrible Trio, who finished last of all with an inappropriately slow funeral march. Professor Dumbledore even conducted their last bars with his wand.

Clapping his hands, he closes the feast with some wise words. “Music! What a wonderful magic. Now off to bed you all go.”

The group all climbs to their feet and follows Percy out of the Great Hall. Full of food and tired from a long day, they barely notice all the talking portraits or the fact Percy takes them up hidden passages. All they see are the many, many stairs they have to climb.

It isn’t until Percy stops that they look up and notice Percy has his wand drawn at a floating bundle of walking sticks. Percy explains to them, “that’s Peeves the Poltergeist.” He then threatens the bundle of sticks. “Peeves! Show yourself now!”

The air farts at Percy, causing him to up his threat, “Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron again?”

Suddenly there is a small floating man with dark, wicked eyes clutching the walking sticks. Cackling evilly, Peeves exclaims, “Ooooh! Ickle Firsties! What fun!”

His dive at the firsties becomes a shriek of pain as he meets Lightning’s reflexively cast shield. Percy barks out at the screaming poltergeist, “Go away, Peeves or the Baron really will hear about this! I’m serious this time!”

Still screaming indignities at them, Peeves flees and attempts to drop the walking sticks on Neville. Unfortunately for Peeves, the shield is still up, and they just bounce off down the stairs.

Turning to them, Percy tells them as Lightning drops the shield, “Peeves only listens to the Bloody Baron, unfortunately. Nice work with the shield, Lightning. We’re almost at the dorms.”

Turning, he points at a painting at the end of the hall before marching up to it. The first years follow him just in time to hear the portrait of a fat lady ask, “Password?”

Percy answers the challenge with “Caput Draconis,” and the portrait swings open, revealing a hole behind it. Scrambling through, they find a comfy round room full of plush armchairs.

Pointing to one staircase, Percy simply says “girls” before pointing to the other and saying “boys.”

The firsties split with the most interesting thing being just how many stairs there are and the fact the girls’ stairs shuddered when Scootaloo stepped upon them before settling down and accepting her.

Both groups find their luggage beside a plush four-poster bed for each of them at the very top of each tower. Those with apartment trunks climb into them to change into their pajamas before climbing out into their beds.

After a brief fight where Ron forces Scabbers into his cage, both rooms are soon filled with the sounds of peaceful slumber.