Chapter 1: The Unexpected Classification

The Hogwarts Express rumbled along the tracks, carrying its cargo of students back to the castle for another year of learning and adventure. Harry Potter, now eighteen years old, sat in his compartment, feeling a mix of emotions as he stared out the window. He had been back at Hogwarts for a few days already, repeating his seventh year due to a rather...unconventional...circumstance. You see, Harry's magical education had been put on hold for a while, thanks to his, shall we say, extremely stressful situation. As a result, he hadn't been classified yet, a process that usually happened in a student's fifth year. Classification was a crucial part of a wizard's life, as it determined their role in society. The wizarding world was divided into five main categories: alpha, beta, omega, caregiver, and little. Alphas were typically strong, confident, and natural leaders, often taking on caregiver roles by default. Betas were versatile and adaptable, while omegas were empathetic and nurturing. Caregivers, as the name suggested, were individuals who took care of others, often with a strong maternal or paternal instinct. And then there were littles, extremely rare individuals who represented pure and young souls. The compartment door slid open, and Ron Weasley poked his head in, a grin on his face. "Hey, Harry! Classification day is today! I'm excited to see what you'll be." Harry raised an eyebrow. "I'm not exactly looking forward to it, Ron." Hermione, sitting across from him, placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "Don't worry, Harry. You'll be fine. You're a strong, capable person. I'm sure you'll be an alpha or a beta, at the very least." The train pulled into Hogsmeade station, and the students poured out, chattering excitedly. Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall was waiting. As the classifications began, Harry watched as his classmates were sorted into their respective categories. When it was finally his turn, he stood before Professor McGonagall, who looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Harry James Potter," she said, her eyes scanning the parchment in her hand. "Your...unusual...circumstances have made this a rather...interesting...classification process." Harry's heart skipped a beat as Professor McGonagall looked up at him, a surprised expression on her face. "Harry Potter, you are...a little." The Great Hall fell silent, with all eyes on Harry. He felt as though he'd been punched in the gut. A little? What did that even mean? He was Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the Boy Who Lived. He was a hero, a warrior, not some...some...little. As the students began to murmur and whisper, Harry's eyes met Ron's and Hermione's, both of whom looked shocked and confused. Harry's mind reeled with questions. What did it mean to be a little? And why had he, of all people, been classified as such?