HOGWARTS 1971
My first glimpses of Hogwarts were from a tiny boat on a lake. A magnificent building perched high upon a rock. It was the biggest thing I had ever seen. The boat wobbles precariously due to a red-haired girl rocking it slightly in amusement, much to the annoyance of our two other passengers; a green looking girl who looked as if she were about to puke, and a slimy looking guy who was watching the red head as if they knew each other. I wasn't sure what to think of him with his sallow skin, hooked nose and bedraggled black curtain of hair that looked as if it needed washing, I wasn't sure of whether to trust him or not, he didn't say much. The red head was now giggling at him but stopped as we approached a veil of ivy leading under the castle. I'm not sure if she was scared or in awe. The sick girl was one of the first to get out of the boats, looking happy to be on land.
I grew up with tales of Hogwarts, my sister already a student in fourth year. My father a half blood and mother, a muggle, both attended, started dating in their fifth year, engaged in their seventh, Flora arriving a year or so later. Generations of my family beforehand doing this very thing. As we ascend through the castle we meet a stern looking woman at the top of the stairs and told to prepare for the sorting ceremony. Hushed whispers about performing tests or proving that we should be there escalated. Of course, those that had grown up in the wizarding world had known this wasn't true, although clarity wasn't something we had. Though we did have tales and stories. My father, Adair, was a willing Ravenclaw, always eager to share that knowledge, now working in the Ministry. Flora was also in Ravenclaw although her knowledge was preferable to being rubbed in faces or used as leverage, surprised she wasn't a Slytherin. My mother Iris was a Hufflepuff, maternal and earthy but with a bark worse than her bite when provoked. I suppose I took after her, I want to learn and explore and share it with others but definitely fight back, my sharp tongue and sarcastic comments and quips had often got me in trouble with my parents and muggle school teachers alike.
As we enter the Great Hall hundreds of pairs of eyes turn our way, expectant and judgmental that only fellow kids can. Trying to catch Flora's eye in reassurance she simply turns away. It hurts. A stool is placed in front of the long table with all the professors behind it so that everyone can see. A talking hat is revealed and sings a song about bonding together and celebrating differences. The student body claps as it finishes. The stern looking woman, introduced as Professor McGonagall, clears her throat then clearly calls the first student "Abbott, Henrietta", a fair girl further along the row steps nervously towards the stool and the hat is placed upon her head.
Within moments the hat shouts "Hufflepuff." The yellow decorated table cheers while the other three clap politely.
And so, the list goes on in alphabetical surname, the green girl from the boat stands as "Becker, Harriet." is said.
The dark haired, petite, shy girl shuffles to the stool, clearly embarrassed. "Hufflepuff." Obviously.
And then HE is called, the guy I had met on the train who had helped me with my luggage; well, had helped me up after I had tripped over it. I had never gotten to know his name just a firebolt to my heart then a nod and a meandering away back through the train since all I could do was gawp. "Black, Sirius." Of course, he was a Black; pureblood, he had the air of wealth and prosperity, of casual elegance as he loped to the stool. Even at eleven years old he turned heads with his attractive aristocratic beauty. His fair smooth skin, longish ruffled black hair just waiting to be touched and cool grey eyes that had held mine in slight amusement. I wasn't the only one who had noticed. You could see the Blacks sitting in the far side of the hall illuminated in the forest of green but emitting an air of snobbish prickly nature. They gasped aloud when after a moment of hesitation, he was declared a Gryffindor. I think everyone was in shock, some of his family walking out, I wasn't sure if they were actually allowed to do that but I wouldn't mess with them.
Skip a few letters and a couple dozen students it was my turn. "Grey, Sylvie."
I was nervous as I approached the stool, hopefully it didn't show, the irritating hat takes a while. Possibly a Gryffindor; brave and outspoken, although I didn't currently feel it. Possibly a Ravenclaw, a sharp mind and eagerness to learn. A Slytherin, ambitious and resourceful. But as a mix it's decision is final; loyal, just and true, "Hufflepuff!" And history repeats itself.
Life at Hogwarts had begun.
Each day a new adventure. Each day we settle into a routine, into familiarity. As Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors had a handful of lessons together I got to know Mr Black, and his new friends and fellow Gryffindors Mr James Potter, Mr Remus Lupin and Mr Peter Pettigrew and the red-haired Lily Evans a little more, as well my fellow Puff Harriet who I was sharing a dorm with, Henrietta Abbott was in another. The boys were pranksters, forever laughing and causing mischief and consequently getting detention a lot. James and Sirius were definitely the instigators while Peter done the running and Remus 'supervising' but would be a part of it all just the same. The four musketeers. Lily's slimy friend, Severus, had gotten sorted into Slytherin, and was still around making things uncomfortable but it was worse watching the Gryffindor boys tease and torment him. I always wonder what would happen if Severus had retaliated; I couldn't promise it wouldn't be too nice.
Halloween, Christmas, Easter all pass in a blur of feasts and before we know it we're on the train back to London.
A lazy magic free summer (No magic outside of school) ends with a trip to Diagon Alley on Charing Cross Road via the Leaky Cauldron for my second-year stuff. After shopping for my books in Flourish and Blotts Bookstore, I sit outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Watching goings on with a very muggle two scoop; one chocolate the other vanilla ice cream cone, while my parents shop with the more demanding Flora who was sitting her OWLS this year. I wasn't too fond of some of the more adventurous flavours that Fortescue's had like Chocolate Chilli and Strawberry and Peanut Butter. Most people milling around were students with their parents; Sirius, I noted, was with the presumed Potters, maybe Blacks were busy, or more likely less associated. They acknowledged me as they walked by, the boys with their heads together, no doubt plotting. All so familiar.
Time goes by when you're having fun.