Grim Grinning Ghosts

Chapter 6: Hat Conversations, Paranormal Laws, and a Damned Poltergeist

As Harrison stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

"Oh dear, aren't we getting a bit of attention..."

"Why...us?"

"Probably because Harry Potter is considered the Boy Who Lived, which is rather ironic, don't you think? Considering that we are most certainly not living."

Both of them nervously approached the stool, watching hundreds of students craned to get a look at him. A part of them wondered where these people, who apparently adored Harry Potter, were when they were in desperate need of help, when he was starved, beaten, killed. If they were that much of a big deal, wasn't a brief check-up on their general wellbeing enough? Harrison noted sourly behind Harold's outside expression of nervousness that many were climbing over each other to even catch a glimpse, and yet he was absolutely positive that none of these people knew that he had been deceased for four years.

His vision of the Great Hall was suddenly compromised when something made of cloth was dropped onto his head, over his eyes.

"My, my. What do we have here?" came a voice inside their head.

"Why hello there, are you the Sorting Hat?"

"Indeed," replied the Hat, "Indeed. And what a shame of what has happened to you. Yet...I believe that something phenomenal will emerge from what has become of young Mr. Potter."

"What..?"

"I am not surprised that you are confused, but now is not the time to discuss such things. Not yet, at least. For now, it is my honor and duty to Sort you, though the method I must take with you will have to be different, of course.

Hm...Harold the sentient Inferius, you have an astounding level of trust that you put into your new friends, the ones that you have only just met hours, minutes ago. Your love for plants almost rivals that of both your new friend Neville, who lies with the Gryffindors now, and the Head of Hufflepuff, Professor Sprout. Either House would welcome you home.

Now...Harrison the Spirit, you have a rather interesting dilemma here, yes, yes. I remember Sorting you before."

"Pardon me," interrupted Harrison, "but what do you mean by that? This is my first time, no?"

"So you don't remember? How interesting, yes, very interesting indeed..."

"To be honest, sir Hat, you have thrown into quite the loop."

"I don't doubt this. But since the moment Helga stitched me out of an old cloak, since Rowena taught me to speak, since Salazar taught me to read hearts, since Godric breathed life into me, I have been able to see inside the heart, the mind, and the very soul of each and every one of the children that are placed under me.

I remember you, my boy, I remember you very well.

Just like before, I see the gears turning in your head, working about how you can gain information on the Wizarding World whilst trying not to reveal Mr. Potter's demise. I see the memories of you leading unsuspecting people to theirs deaths to feed your hungry counterpart. I see your ambition to rise above those you assumed to have abandoned Mr. Potter.

But I must say, you have changed quite a lot since the last time we met. While you still hold the ambition and thirst for knowledge like you had all those decades ago, there are so every large changes, yes. You give your loyalty more freely than you used to, your devotion to Harold shows that as plain as day.