Per the Sorting Hat

When Harry was sorted into his house, the Hat told him he would do well anywhere. He was talented and ambitious, intelligent and a quick witted, hard working and loyal, brave and courageous. What if Harry lived up to that praise? Starts in book 2 CoS.

Chapter 1. Heat Stroke

The stifling heat of summer beat down upon the homes and streets of Surrey, England, slowly roasting the already tanned skin of Harry Potter as he worked in his relatives’ yard, weeding the flower beds. Sweat poured down the small eleven-year-old boy’s face and though sweat got in his eyes, it did not burn. Harry knew from his classes at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that this was a bad sign. He was dehydrated, malnourished, and in danger of suffering heat stroke the longer he stayed out in the heat.

He stood, wiping sweat from his brow, then turned and carefully shook dirt from his shoes and clothes before opening the front door to number 4 Privet Drive. He was met with a cold blast of air that immediately made his skin turn to goose flesh and sent chills racing up and down his spine. As he crossed the threshold the sound of the blaring television assaulted his ears. Before he had crossed half way to the short hall leading to the kitchen, the change in temperature, his orientation to the earth, and his dehydration slammed together. Harry’s head tilted backwards, his eyes rolling into his head, and he collapsed in a faint with the strange thud belonging to limp bodies everywhere.

On a couch, slouched like a massive potato, Harry’s cousin Dudley continued to watch his program without concern, as Harry lay on the floor, until the doorbell rang. Dudley’s beady blue eyes darted to the door before turning back to the television as the sound of the kitchen door announced the appearance of his mother. Petunia took a few steps into the living room before she froze, staring at Harry’s still body, his face slowly turning a shade of light blue. The doorbell rang again and Petunia was torn between cleaning her floor and being a gracious hostess to her unexpected guests.

Petunia’s eyes fixed on the door and she stepped over her nephew, lightly kicking the boy in his shoulder with her trailing foot. Fixing a smile on her face, Petunia opened the door enough to present her horsey-face to the two people she could see silhouetted in the door’s curtained window.

“How can I help you?” Petunia asked. Before her stood three people, obviously well-to-do with the fashionable clothes and small purse the bushy-haired brunette girl wore, and the professional dress of the man and woman who were obviously her parents, having inherited her mother's face and her father's hair and eyes.

“Hello,” the man began, and extended his hand, forcing Petunia to release her hold on the door to complete the social courtesy, “I’m Jonathan Granger, my wife, Jane, and our daughter, Hermione. Are you Mrs. Petunia Dursley?”

Petunia’s face froze momentarily on the name Granger and gave the girl a sharp look before returning to the picture of polite curiosity. “Yes, I am. I’m sorry to say that your last name is familiar but I can’t remember where I’ve heard it.”

“Hermione goes to school with your nephew, Harry Potter,” Jane answered quickly. This time the change in Petunia’s face was not hidden quickly enough and Hermione narrowed her eyes. The smell of sweaty boy drifting through the open door and overpowering the smell of turned earth, and the look Petunia was giving her was worse than the fabled evil eye popular in folk-tales.

“Where’s Harry?” Hermione demanded before Petunia could form a verbal response to her mother’s revelation of Hermione’s magical abilities.

“He’s not here. I sent him to the store. Useless boy he is too, leaving the garden a mess like the hooligan he is!” Petunia snapped and made to close the door in the Grangers faces.

“You’re lying!” Hermione shouted as the door slammed shut followed by the scrape and tack as the dead-bolt was slid into place. Hermione stared at the door angrily for a few seconds before her hand slipped into her purse and she pulled out a ten inch long, narrow piece of wood that looked like a conductor’s baton, with a detailed twist of vine wrapping around it’s length.

“Alohomora!” Hermione hissed angrily, disengaging the locks. Before either of her parents could react, Hermione kicked the door open. Before them was the heart-rending sight of Petunia attempting to drag Harry’s limp body by his feet, his head tilted back and mouth hanging open in a silent, horrific gasp.

“Expeliarmus!” the spell raced out and slammed into Petunia’s chest, throwing her down the small hall, knocking a large dent into the drywall. Hermione dashed into the house as loud footsteps from upstairs drew her attention. “Immobulous!” Hermione caught the lumbering figure of Vernon Dursley at the top of the stairs. She quickly turned her wand on Harry’s cousin, casting the same spell before hitting Petunia with petrificus totalus, causing her arms and legs to snap together, rigid as a board.

As Hermione knelt next to her school-mate there was a series of pops, some loud, some soft from outside. Hermione placed her hand to Harry’s sweaty forehead and immediately snatched it back. “He’s burning up!” she cried. “Call an ambulance!”

As she spoke a gray tabby cat raced into the house and froze, staring at Hermione and the prone form of Harry. Hermione looked down from her parents to the cat and started before shouting, “Professor, Harry needs Madame Pomfrey!”

There was a blur of movement as the tabby changed shape, morphing into a tall, thin woman with a narrow, sharp face and long curling black hair streaked with gray. The woman turned to the door and muttered a spell, causing yellow sparks to flash in the doorway. Almost immediately the plump form of Madam Pomfrey rushed through the door, quickly followed by a scowling Professor Snape, with his hooked-nose and limp, greasy black hair completing the look of a giant bat. “What has the brat done this–”

Snape’s acerbic comment died in his throat as his eyes widened at the sight of Harry’s light blue body sprawled in the middle of the floor. Pomfrey began casting spells as two more people followed Severus Snape into the Dursley’s home. “Minerva, I need a tub, full of ice, he’s hemorrhaging from the heat!”

McGonagall turned at Pomfrey’s command and easily transfigured the couch into a long, extra wide bath. The two new arrivals, Severus, and McGonagall moved their wands in a simply wave-pattern and spoke ‘aguamenti’ causing jets of water to flow from their wands. Hermione quickly joined in and the tub was soon half full, at which point Severus and Minerva began to alternate between freezing and bludgeoning charms, turning the water into crushed ice.

“That’s deep enough,” Pomfrey said before levitating Harry’s body and settling him in the water, mindful to settle his head on the shallow end so he would not slip below the surface and drown.

“Miss...” the tall, black wizard who had followed Severus addressed Hermione.

“Granger,” Hermione replied.

“I’m Auror Kinglsey Shacklebolt. What happened here? Several alarms were set off that Mr. Potter’s home was under assault.”

“That was me,” Hermione answered, defiantly meeting the Auror’s eyes. “I knew Harry was in trouble so I opened the door with magic and when I saw him, I stopped his relatives from being able to hurt him. I know I’m in trouble, I won’t resist.”

“Harry? Potter?” the second person in the house asked. “That’s my cousin?!” she shouted. “I’ll kill you!”

Hermione flinched back, expecting to be struck across the face but was surprised to watch the woman’s black hair turn to flaming red as she leaped past her and began to kick Petunia.

“Auror Tonks, control yourself!” Shacklebolt yelled over the sound of Petunia’s ribs breaking. Once Tonks had stopped, Shacklebolt turned back to the potions master.

“Severus, you’re a legilimens, perhaps if you searched their minds?” Severus gave a curt nod before brushing past Tonks as she made her way to kneel beside Harry. Hermione quickly joined her in stroking his arm in the cold water. Severus stood over Petunia, drew his wand, and snarled, ‘legilimens’.

He stood staring down at her for several seconds before breaking eye contact. “He’s been working in the yard since eight this morning. No food, no water, no rest. It seems he collapsed inside just before the Grangers arrived.” Severus turned his eyes to the large man frozen in mid stride at the head of the stairs before turning to regard the potato with a head. Severus pointed his wand and Dudley and muttered the counter charm before addressing the boy. “What possessed your parents to do this to Mister Potter?”

Dudley sneered and threw his glass of sodapop at Severus. Before the glass had reached mid-flight, it was redirected by Snape’s wand, and crashed into the wall above Dudley’s head. “I will not ask again. Why did your parents do this to one of my students?”

“He’s a freak!” Dudley yelled. “If he didn’t pull his weight, Dad would send him to the orphanage, like he should have when we first found the unnatural creature!” As Dudley continued to shout Jane Granger began to cry with repressed rage, watching as Hermione tended her friend as though he was an injured little brother.

“How long has he done chores?” McGonagall asked.

“Since he could walk, I recon’,” Dudley replied with an indifferent shrug. “He deserves it for being an abomination. Had to make up for all the chores he missed while he was at that filthy school of his. That’s why dad had him out in the yard.” Dudley’s eyes drifted to where Hermione and Tonks were still ministering to Harry, leering at Hermione’s blossoming chest visible through her loose sun dress.

“Still, if all the freak girls look as good as them–” Dudley’s mouth continued to move, though no sound came out. Jonathan and Jane glanced in confusion between Severus and the mute Dudley Dursley who was quickly turning purple as he tried to shout.

“Kingsley?” Severus asked, raising an eyebrow at the auror with dark-chocolate colored skin.

“If I hadn’t, Minerva would have transfigured him into something,” Kingsley answered with a shrug. “So we know what happened. I presume we need to get Harry to St. Mungo’s, and somehow get the muggle authorities to deal with these three.”

“Sir,” Hermione spoke up. “What if you somehow get Dudley to call the police saying that his father is beating his mother and then do something to their memories?” The five adult wizards exchanged glances before each gave a slight nod. Dudley’s voice returned to full volume before Snape pointed his wand at him and muttered ‘imperio’ and the boy’s face went slack.

“Get up, go to the phone,” Severus spoke in a silky voice and Dudley obeyed. “Pick it up and dial the police. Speak normally and tell them your father is attacking your mother.”

“Miss Granger, would you and your parents care to accompany Mr. Potter to St. Mungo’s?” McGonagall inquired politely. Hermione opened her mouth to reply before turning pleading eyes to her parents.

“Yes, we would,” Jonathan answered for his daughter. “Ms. Tonks, you said you’re Harry’s cousin?”

The teen-aged woman looked up from the bathtub and replied, "Not by blood, but my Uncle was his godfather, and I kind of claimed him when he was born."

Johnathan nodded in acceptance before continuing, “Would you accompany us as well? We may need a friend of the family who understands the Wizarding world to help us make good decisions for him.”

“I should contact my parents so they can be there too,” Tonks answered before standing. She walked outside and disappeared.

“Professor, what about our car?” Hermione spoke as McGonagall tapped her wand to one of Petunia’s decorative tea saucers, muttering the word ‘portus’.

“I’ll take care of it Ms. Granger. Mr. and Mrs. Granger, if the three of you would take hold of this?” McGonagall held out the bewitched saucer. She let go of it and the three disappeared.

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The private room in St. Mungo’s was normally sparsely furnished but was now full with the patient’s bed, two cots, and three recliners, and each were occupied by sleeping forms. Hermione with her bushy brown hair was nestled up against the unconscious form of Harry Potter, her head resting on his chest. Jonathan and Jane Granger were in separate cots, while Andromeda, Ted, and Nymphadora Tonks were occupying the recliners.

Nymphadora’s hair was cycling through colors as she muttered in her sleep and perpetually twisted and turned on the recliner in a subconscious effort to find comfort. The silence of slumber was interrupted as the door clicked open. Nymphadora’s tossing immediately ceased as she and her mother’s bodies tensed. A tall old man with a flowing white beard and hair stepped into the room, his twinkling blue eyes taking in the scene before him. Minerva McGonagall entered the room on his heels.

“Albus, you can’t just–” McGonagall began to whisper.

“Now, Minnerva, I am Harry’s magical guardian,” Albus replied with an indulgent smile on his lips. “Harry should not have been removed from the Dursley’s as the blood wards haven’t been recharged yet. As soon as Harry is well, we’ll–”

“You’ll do nothing, Dumbledore!” The two professors spun on their feet to find Andromeda Tonks with her wand drawn and pointed steadily at them. Nymphadora soon had her wand drawn as well as the other adults and Hermione jerked awake at Andromeda’s voice. “We took the liberty, as Harry’s closest blood relatives, to file charges of neglect and endangerment against you last night, Headmaster. Leave this room.”

“Mrs. Tonks,” Dumbledore answered calmly as Ted Tonks stood and joined in the wands threatening the professors. “That really isn’t wise. I am the Supreme Mugwump and I have Harry’s best interests in mind. He must be ready to destroy Voldemort when he is old enough–”

“Voldemort’s dead, Dumbledore,” Ted interrupted.

“No,” Hermione spoke from her place beside Harry. “We fought him, not even three weeks ago. He was a wraith, not alive, not dead. He was possessing Professor Quirrel’s body. Harry told us that he k-killed Quirrel, watched as his face burned off and turned to ash.” Hermione’s voice cracked as tears began to fall down her face. One of the drops landed on Harry’s face and the boy’s eyes opened slightly so that only Hermione noticed. She lowered her head and kissed his cheek where her tear had fallen before whispering to him, “Lay still, helps on the way.”

“Ah, so my young nephew is just a weapon in your eyes, is he?” Andromeda spoke, her voice coming out like a soft purr. “Don’t forget, Albus, I was raised a Black.”

“So to protect Harry you will join Bellatrix in Azkaban?” Dumbledore returned, his voice betraying the slightest disappointment.

“Albus!” McGonagall scolded. “How dare you! We’re not welcome here. Let us leave.”

“Harry is the only one who can defeat Voldemort. You mustn’t interfere in my plans!” Dumbledore nearly shouted as he straightened to his full height, the twinkle in his eyes fading away, allowing a cold, dangerous edge to enter them. The air in the room was disturbed as five men and women wearing red and black robes appeared, their wands drawn and trained on Albus and Minerva.

“MLE! Drop your wands!” shouted the wizard with a black star sown into his colar.

“Hit Wizards?” Albus spoke, taken aback.

“They gave us a special alarm last night,” Nymphadora explained. “You know, special security for the boy-who-lived. Rogue Death Eaters and manipulative old men wanting to harm him and all. Good thinking, Hermione.”

“Drop your wands, professors,” one of the female Hit Wizards ordered. “Drop them or we open fire.” Minerva slowly moved her hand up to her hip pocket and retrieved her wand, holding it sideways in her hand, she offered it to the closest witch dressed in red and black. She promptly stepped forward when the hit wizard indicated for her to do so and took a spot in the corner of the door.

“Albus,” McGonagall pleaded, “do as they say.”

“Very well, Minerva,” Dumbledore answered as he mimicked her actions, slowly drawing his wand by its mid-length and handing it to one of the Hit Wizards. One of them then produced a set of magic-suppression handcuffs.

“Albus Dumbledore, I am placing you under arrest on charges of child endangerment, neglect, and trespassing. Do not resist.” Dumbledore sighed but turned around with his hands behind his back, wrists pressed together. He stopped short however, when he was met with burning emerald eyes staring at him from beneath messy black hair.

“Is it true,” Harry’s hoarse voice could barely be heard as the handcuffs were slipped into place. “Was it part of your plan for me to become a murderer with the Sorcerer’s Stone?”

“Harry, you are not a murderer,” Dumbledore began to answer.

“Were my parent’s deaths part of your plans too, professor?”

“Sirius Black betrayed your parents. He was your godfather, Harry,” McGonagall answered. “There was so much evidence, there wasn’t even a trial.”

“But if he were innocent, Harry would have been raised by him not–” Hermione suddenly stopped speaking and stared at the venerated headmaster of Hogwarts.

“Albus, tell me she’s wrong,” McGonagall pleaded. Albus did not answer her but allowed himself to be led from the hospital room. “Andromeda, Nymphadora, Harry, Hermione, I’m so sorry.”

“Shall we arrest Professor McGonagall as well, Commander?” the woman who had taken her wand addressed the man with the black star. He turned an inquiring eye to Ted Tonks who in turn looked to his wife.

“No. That won’t be necessary,” Andromeda said. “Was there anything you would like to say, Professor?”

“I think I’m in need of new History and Defense teachers,” McGonagall said with a sigh as she accepted her wand and turned toward the door. “Merlin knows the Defense post has been cursed.”

“Professor,” Harry’s voice once more sounded in the room. “What about a class in practical protection and dueling?” McGonagall turned and focused on Harry’s eyes and considered his words for a minute before nodding.

“I will do that, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall answered before leaving the room, a Hit Wizard escorting her out.

“If I may, Mr. Potter, Mr. and Mrs. Tonks,” the commander addressed the room and received nods to continue. “The MLE heard about what happened with Professor Quirrel at the end of the school year. You acted with courage and killed when you didn’t have another choice. That’s what separates an officer who kills in the line of duty and a murderer, Mr. Potter. Don’t think about the life you took, but the lives you were protecting when you killed your teacher.”

“I served with your father before he and Lilly went into hiding with you. They would have understood and been proud of your courage. They would have hated that you had to see death so early, but that isn’t your fault, son,” the commander stepped forward and pulled three metal cases from his pocket. “These are the medals that he earned while he served. Distinguished service,” he showed a medal in the shape of a shield engraved with a crossed wand and sword dangling by a blue ribbon.

“Courage above and beyond the call of duty,” he held up a medal engraved with a rearing dragon dangling from a green and white striped ribbon.

“Order of Merlin, second class,” he held up a medal made of gold in the shape of a star dangling from a royal purple ribbon, “awarded posthumously for single-handedly killing five death eaters who were attacking a muggle orphanage where two underage muggle-born wizards were living.”

“Thank you,” Harry choked out as tears ran down his cheeks. Nymphadora stood and reverantly took the medal cases from Harry’s hand as he was quickly losing his composure. Hermione immediately gathered him in a hug, holding him as he trembled and tears ran down his face.

“Thank you, Commander... ” Andromeda spoke, rising from her seat and shaking his hand.

“McCalister.”

“Commander McCalister. I wonder if you could do something since you served with James. Hermione told us that Harry doesn’t know much about his parents. Could you approach some of James and Lilly’s friends and collect some written stories about who they were. Personal information, not what’s in the history books.”

“I would be honored, Ma’am,” McCalister replied. “I’m standing guard this morning and when I get off duty, I’ll start asking around.” With that McCalister stepped outside, wand in hand and closed the door softly behind him. Jonathan and Jane joined Hermione in offering comfort to Harry as he continued to tremble in his friend’s arms. Several minutes passed before the boy calmed.

Harry sniffled and met Hermione’s concerned brown eyes that were red rimmed with her own tears. He looked over her shoulder, taking in the presence of her parents before he sniffled and croaked, “I’m sorry.”

“Harry,” Jane said as she gently ran her hands through Harry’s messy black hair, “there’s nothing to apologize for. You’re with family.” Harry leaned his head into Jane’s stroking fingers with an expression of longing and she continued until he fell into a deep sleep.

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A/N: A couple of reviewers asked how Hermione got to the Dursley's so quickly. She was already on her way to visit her friend. It's one of those necessary coincidences of fiction and television that it happened to be the same day that Harry collapsed.

I've also made Tonks' claim of Harry as her cousin explicit since many seemed to not be able to follow the unstated logic.