[ WP ] Harry Potter is actually sorted into Slytherin on his first day at Hogwarts . Write the ending of the series .

Harry stood, covered in the rubble from his final fight with the dark lord. Images flashed before his mind, the Longbottom boy decapitating the snake with the sword, watching Blaise duel with two death eaters at once, his final desperate expelliarmus that had won the day. He turned the elder wand once over in his hand, feeling a slight, magical hum from the instrument of power. The resurrection stone sat heavy in his pocket, the cloak hung loosely at his side. Master of death, he thought to himself, and laughed aloud, startling the slumbering paintings of the headmasters. A true master of death would have been able to save his friends. 
 
 “ Are you quite all right, Harry? ” The suddenness of the question, rather than it ’ s force, nearly caused Harry to jump out of his skin. He whirled around to find himself face-to-face with the portrait of Dumbledore. Instantly, Harry returned to those long, hellish nights spent poring over the pensieve. Harry had never taken quite as quickly to these lessons as he had to occlumency. 
 
 “ I ’ m fine, thanks, ” Harry replied, fixing his glasses which had been knocked to one side when he jumped, “ Sir, ” he added hastily, not knowing if the painting still wanted to be referred to as such. 
 
 “ You seem troubled, ” Dumbledore remarked, his long fingers touched together, peering at Harry over top of his glasses. 
 
 “ It ’ s just that I gathered all the Hallows, sir. I should have been master of death, instead, I still feel lost. I guess I don ’ t understand, sir. I don ’ t know if Voldemort and I were ever all that different. ” 
 
 “ If you will do me one last kindness, Harry, would you look into the Pensieve? I have one thing I have not yet shown you. ” Harry approached the Pensieve with apprehension. There was one memory that clearly was for him, in a small, tube with a golden stopper. Gold for Griffindor. Harry thought back to a choice he had made seven years ago, and wondered how things might have been different. He took a deep breath, and made the last plunge. 
 
 Harry found himself in Dumbledore ’ s office, watching Dumbledore and Tom Riddle, in prefect uniform, having one of their discussions. 
 
 “ But sir! ” exclaimed Riddle, “ Isn ’ t it true that Hufflepuff must lose, as they take what ’ s left! They don ’ t value intelligence, or bravery, or cleverness at all! ” 
 
 “ Tom, if you still believe that, I fear we have taught you nothing in your years here. As it is, I ’ m afraid the decision stands. Hufflepuff wins the House Cup. ” 
 
 “ Sir, please reconsider. I don ’ t understand what merits the house can have. ” Riddle looked flustered, a look Harry had seen on his face today, when he saw the arc of red light fly from Harry ’ s wand. 
 
 “ Tom, I ’ m afraid I don ’ t have a direct hand in the winner. I ’ m sorry, but that ’ s all I can do for you today. ” Riddle turned and began to walk out of the room. “ Tom? ” Dumbledore called after him. Riddle turned his face, his body still towards the exit, “ You would do well to remember that it ’ s not house, strength, or even blood that determines greatness. It is the choices that a wizard makes that determines how he will be remembered. ” Riddle turned on his heel without a word, and descended the staircase. 
 
 The memory over, Harry shook himself off. He sat for a long time in Dumbledore ’ s office, thinking to himself. Then, as though he had been planning this moment his whole life, he pulled the green and silver tie from his pocket and unwrapped the Resurrection Stone. Pointing the Elder Wand directly at it, he muttered “ Reducto, ” and watched as it crumbled apart into nothing. He looked again at the elder wand, giving it one last, look of longing, and then strode over to the sorting hat. 
 
 “ Oy, who ’ s there?'' 
 
 “ It ’ s Harry Potter. You might remember me from seven years—, ” 
 
 “ Ah yes, I remember you Potter. Here to get sorted again? You could have done great things in Griffindor. ” 
 
 “ No, thanks. I was actually hoping you might store something for me. ” 
 
 “ I ’ ve only done that for a few wizards and witches, Potter. What is this item? ” without saying anything, Harry slipped the Elder Wand from his pocket into the base of the hat. There was silence for a few moments, and then the hat spoke. “ I trust you understand what you ’ re doing? ” 
 
 “ Yes, I do. Perhaps its power can die with me. ” 
 
 “ All right then. Have a good day Mister Potter. ” Harry turned one last time to look at the office of the man he hadn ’ t known was his friend, and then walked down the stairs to the world that lay below. 

