“Thank you!” Harry called out, the kitchen portrait smelling shut behind him and drowning out the cries of joy from the elves.
Carrying the bundle carefully, Harry made his way to the black lake, and unwrapped it.
The delicious aroma of cucumber, bread and butter filled his nose, and his mouth watered.
Taking a bite, it melted in his mouth.
It was perfect.
Better than treacle tart.
“Where are the cucumber sandwiches?”
“Cucumber sandwiches? There aren’t any.”
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE AREN'T ANY?!
“...The Slytherins have them, I think.”
“OH MERLIN WHY?!”
“So let me get this straight.” Harry said, staring the quaking elf down. “The Slytherin’s have better food then all of the other houses combined, because they are purebloods?”
“Oh for goodness sake! I should have just let the hat put me in Slytherin.” Harry grumbled, climbing up the stairs.
Time for research.
Turns out, you can request for a resort - if you have a good reason. ...Does wanting better food count?
Harry shrugged. Guess he’d find out.
Now, there was a slight problem.
Harry would need to fit in with the purebloods, which meant - acting like them, or at least being aware of their ways.
Due to the constant glaring he had bestowed on the snakes, he had some idea of their behaviour.
They we’re much quieter, and more sophisticated than the other tables. Okay, Crabbe and Goyle do not count.
There were two options. Harry could read up on purebloods, or spy on the Slytherins.
Reading would probably easier.
You know what? I take it back. Harry stared up at the huge bookshelf, full of pureblood ‘stuff’. This is crazy.
Harry huffed, and plonked himself into a chair.
He needed inspiration. What pureblood did he know well...?
Harry let out a squeal of excitement, racing through the library to the scandalised shouts from Mrs. Pince.
It was completed! Finally! After a week of waiting, Harry walked into the great hall, outfit pressed, hair curled to perfection, and glasses gone.
Dumbledore took one look at him and began violently choking.
Harry bit back laughter, remaining blank faced.
He glided up the hall (honestly it had taken an obscene amount of practice to perfect it) and casually made his way up the stairs. “Headmaster?”
Dumbledore was pale and wide eyed as he stared at Harry. “Yes, Mr. Ri-Potter.”
Harry smirked at the lapse. “I am requesting a resort.”
Dumbledore, along with the staff looked wide eyed. Dumbledore cleared his throat. “Well... sorting hat.”
The sorting hat appeared in his hand. Harry took it, now having the attention of the entire hall.
The moment the hat was on his head, it burst into laughter. Very loud laughter.
Harry scowled. “What?!”
“T-that’s the reason you want to be - ” The hat burst into more laughter, and Harry huffed, crossing his arms.
“They’re good okay?! It’s not fair.” Harry mentally pouted.
The hat finally stopped laughing for a moment, and took a look at his mind. “Slytherin.” He declared, the entire hall gaping in shock.
Harry smirked to himself, and plopped into the nearest bench, taking a cucumber sandwich.
Everyone eyed him like he was a lunatic.
For this food? Worth it.