Harry Potter weaved through the mass of Muggles in King's Cross station, barely able to keep control of his trolley. Headwig, Harry's first real birthday present, hooted nervously in her cage. Harry felt as if he were drowning in the sea of people. As the eleven-year-old ducked out of the writhing stream of body parts, he noticed a grey haired man dressed in an olive green vest with a white undershirt and khaki trousers. "I bet Uncle Vernon would get on well with that chap," Harry chuckled to himself. As Harry's field of view shifted, he noticed a gaggle of shockingly red manes. The five forms drew closer, a tall, thin, boy with horn rimmed glasses in front, followed from a distance by two slightly shorter twin boys. Still further behind came a plump and overly nervous mother pushing her youngest son forward and dragging a slight, shy looking girl by the wrist. "Always the same, every year, packed with Muggles, come on dears, platform nine and three-quarters this way," came the frazzled woman's voice. "Muggles?" Harry murmured to himself. Seeing this as his first, and possibly only chance, Harry walked tentatively up to the family, his raven colored hair neglecting the lightening shaped scar adorning his forehead. The smallest red haired boy glanced up at the new arrival. To Harry's horror and amazed confusion, the boy's eyes jerked up, his mouth springing agape. "Oi! Bloody hell! That's Harry Potter!" "Ronald Billius Weasley, LANGUAAGE!" "But mum, it's HARRY POTTER!" "Ron dear, I'm sure you're only seeing things," Ron simply stood there, amazed his own mother had failed to believe him. This, however, did not change as Harry had slipped off by the time Mrs. Weasley had found her son. "Great," Harry thought as he hid behind the opposite side of platform ten, "more people to stare at me..." Seeing no one other than Ron, Mrs. Weasley just herded her children to their destination while Harry watched timidly. The eldest present Weasley walked straight through the barrier's other side. Harry convulsively shook his head in disbelief as one red headed person after another disappeared into solid brick. Once his head had ceased to shake, Harry stared back intently at the brick wall. "Let's see, brick wall? Dursleys? Brick Wall? Dursleys?... Okay, let's be fair, more than a brick wall... Do I really want to run straight through a brick wall? None of those other people seemed to feel anything... Unimaginable, life changing adventure or Dursleys? OI WHAT AM I THINKING!" With that in mind, Harry bolted through the solid brick wall so fast that next thing he knew, he was colliding with a bushy blur of hair. "You do know you could have seriously injured the both of us don't you? I mean you really should watch where you're going in future," said the bushy haired girl. "Errm, yeah, sorry 'bout that," Harry said looking up. "The name's Hermione Granger by the way, and you are..." "Yeah yeah I know I'm bloody Harry Potter! I'm getting so sick of this everybody knowing my name!" Harry yelled. "Well you are aren't you, I've read all about you, well it's a pleasure I'm sure," Hermione smiled. "Well, that's new," Harry said, "I think you're the first magical person I've seen that hasn't completely fawned over me; thanks I appreciate that." "Shall we get on the train then?" "Train?" Harry asked, completely forgetting where he was. "Yes the train, I suppose you thought we'd be flying there did you?" Hermione giggled. Harry blushed, and as his gaze was drawn to the bright red Hogwarts Express his mouth fell open. "Come ooonnnnnnnnnnnn" Hermione said, her eyes rolling slightly. "This is going to be fun!" Harry thought, excitedly chasing after his new giggling friend.
In their compartment on the train, Harry listened bemusedly as Hermione rattled on about Hogwarts: A History and Standard Book of Spells Year One. Just as the train began to move off, the compartment door slid open to reveal a pale blonde boy with a rather pointed nose and a decidedly inhuman smirk. "Well Well well it's true then? Harry Potter is coming to Hogwarts. Harry gave an exasperated eye roll. "You'll soon find that some wizards are better than others Potter, best not to go making friends with the wrong sort. The Name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy and I..." Malfoy's eyes came to rest on Hermione and he burst out laughing. Through his obvious mirth, Draco gasped, "Well that one's obviously not a pure-blood Potter...-more laughs-Granger is it? Potter you needn't waste sentiment on mudblood filfth like tha..." Before Draco could finish speaking he was pinned against a wall, Harry's fists wailing into him madly. Years of watching Dudley had paid off. No never mind that Harry had no idea what a mudblood was, but the stony, hurt look on Hermione's face told all.
As Malfoy's nose began to bleed profusely, a Gryffindor prefect walked by outside. Noticing the display of Harry's animalistic side through the upturned shades, the prefect decided this might be more than he could handle and quickly dashed down the corridor and into a special compartment to fetch the Head Boy: Percy Weasley. A few minutes later Harry was being pulled away from his badly maimed prey by a very familiar, tall, red headed boy with horn rimmed glasses. "Now that's enough..." Percy paled as he saw the raging boy's victim. "My father'll be hearing about this Potter, don't bother unpacking as you'll likely be shipped off to Azkaban on the next available boat!" Draco roared in an extremely nasaled scream. "Yeah yeah Malfoy, keep talking, and I suppose you still think you're the greatest wizard who ever lived do ya?" Harry centered his weight, hovering just above the ground in firm grasp of the Head Boy. Shifting his leg back and forth in a lightning fast kick, Harry gave the young Malfoy heir his first lesson in manhood. Percy turned a wonderful shade of puce, his mouth absolutely agape, as Draco Malfoy screamed like the girl he was and crumpled into a heap on the floor.
Upon regaining his cognizance, Percy turned and began stiffly marching out of the compartment, the Boy-Who-Lived still held aloft. Still, the Head Boy managed to stomp purposefully on Draco's outlying hand, allowing his foot to linger for a moment, transferring all the weight he could without waking the boy (and that was saying something considering Draco may as well have just taken a drink of the Draft of Living Death). Percy smiled to himself wickedly, recomposing his features only upon entering the corridor. He was once more Harry Potter's stone faced judge, jury, and executioner.
The Head boy stoically deposited the-Boy-Who-Lived into a rather uncomfortable chair in the prefect's compartment. Percy stared at the raven haired oddity before him. Harry gulped and shifted in his chair, accidentally jamming his elbow into hard wood. "Mr. Potter," Percy began, "if you were in a House already I would have taken 200 house points for that little display, but as you have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about and haven't been sorted anyway, I see little point." "Well, this may not be so bad," Harry thought, allowing his guard to lapse. "You will however have to explain this to Professor Dumbledore the minute you've been sorted." Remembering the name Dumbledore from his school letter and conversations with Hagrid, Harry paled slightly and failed to swear only for lack of experience. "Look, Potter," Percy continued, "I know Malfoys-" "Pardon me, but did you say Malfoys as in plural? As in more than one? You've got to be joking mate." Percy chuckled slightly at the first year. "Well where exactly do you think that little git friend of yours came from?" he asked with a smile. "Well, I was really starting to think he came from Satan, but that's just me..." "Not really it's not," Percy mumbled to himself. "Anyway, just don't resort to violence, a few leg lockers maybe, but none of that muggle stuff, especially with a Malfoy! They're kind of the ravenous wolf tearing at the soft underbelly of our wizzarding world, but they have a lot of influence. Now then, I think you should be returning to Miss Granger, and oh Harry... Good show!" With a maliciously pleased smirk, Harry jaunted back down the corridor. "Maybe the Weasleys aren't all that bad," he said to himself, pulling open the compartment door to find Hermione still in shock.
A bit confused, Harry walked up in front of Hermione. Getting no reaction, he began to shake her vigorously, saying "Hermione, come on snap out of it!" Still nothing. Harry tried a second time, and at this, Hermione wrapped him into a crushing hug and began to sob. "Errm, Hermione... Need... Air..." Hermione gasped herself and quickly pulled away, her sobs having dissipated slightly. "Not that I mind all that much, but, errm, What's wrong and why were you hugging me?" "You stood up for me, Harry. Until now, only my parents did that, and they weren't usually much help. I've never had many friends, why else do you think I read so much?" Harry knew he could easily answer that question, but decided against it considering his friend's mental state. "It'll be okay, Hermione, but if you don't mind my asking, what was that all about? I mean I obviously tore into Malfoy by the time he was finished, but what's a mudblood?" "I read in some book about it being a derogatory term for people like me, witches and wizards born of muggle parents." Harry was fuming. "And here I thought I was getting away from people like the Dursleys" he muttered heatedly. A young witch's voice rang through the train, "Attention students, we will soon be arriving in Hogsmede Station. Please make sure to change into school robes before getting off the train." "Don't we need to get our stuff?" Harry asked, a little more confused than before. "Oh honestly, am I the only person on this train who's read Hogwarts: A History ? Our things will be brought up to our dorms, we don't have to worry about anything but changing into school robes.
As they were getting off the train, Harry heard Hagrid's booming voice, "Firs' years, Firs' years, this way to the boats..." "Boats?" Harry asked. Hermione rolled her eyes, but before she could speak Harry interjected, "I know, I know, you read about it in Hogwarts: A History . Come on Hermione, there's someone I want you to meet." As he led Hermione before the gigantantic form of his friend, Harry said, "Hiya Hagrid, this is Hermione Granger. She rode with me on the train." "'ow ya doin' there 'arry and 'ello 'ermione. All right then you lot, onto the boats four at a time, come on!
The first years nervously stampeded onto the boats, leaving behind only four stragglers: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, and one very unhappy Draco Malfoy. After everyone was settled, the boats began to drift across the lake. Harry wondered what was going on as he couldn't see anything on the other side, but he knew better than to ask a question like that with Hermione in earshot. Draco sat, shuddering in fear of Harry as much as he could, but in his current state, the blonde boy was almost numb anyway. "So, Harry Potter, bloody hell I still can't believe it!" exclaimed the boat's resident red head. "I hope you're in Gryffindor as that's where all of my five older brothers have been, and that's where I'll be. Who knows maybe even my little sister Ginny will be in Gryffindor eventually." Harry paid no attention whatsoever, being fully immersed in his own imagination. Two holes suddenly appeared in the boat. They were just large enough for Weasley and Malfoy to take a forced dip into the lake. As soon as the boat's number was cut in half, the holes sealed as the tiny armada drifted on. Harry shifted back to reality-what a disappointment both of the gits were still present. The-Boy-Who-Lived began to humm Row Row Row Your Boat rather loudly, tuning out Weasley's chatter and Malfoy's pathetic stupor.
Hermione fought back the urge to shut the anoying chatter box up with a fist and settled for rolling her eyes at the three sad figures before her. Just when harry thought he was going to go crazy if Ron didn't shut up all fell silent.
The first years of 1991 got their first sight of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry could not believe what he saw in front of him. He rubbed his eyes to make sure the magnificent castle was real. To Harry's delight it was still there when he opened his eyes again. "Hogwarts is real. This is really happening. I am a wizard. No Dursleys any where near me for months. This should be wonderful." Harry beamed to himself. It took a while for everyone to come out of their Hogwarts induced comas, but once they did oooooooooo's and awwwwwwwwww's could be heard all around. Hermione could not take her eyes off the beauty that was her new school. She had always wanted to learn unusual things. "And, now I will" she thought. Only two thoughts ran through Ron's mind as the boat drifted closer to Hogwarts, the major one being "Oi I'm hungry" as was clear to all due to the loud grummble coming from his stomach. The second thought was "Griffyndor here I come". Malfoy sat as far from The-Boy-Who-beat him as posible. One thing re-playing in his head "I will get you POTTER". The blonde didn't notice when the castle came into view. He didn't even notice when the boat stopped at an under ground cave, and the others clammered out. It was not untill the huge man that had lead them to the boats shook him extremely hard that Draco realized they had stopped, and the other students were steiring at him. Before Malfoy could move, or speak Hagrid had picked him up and slung him harshly over his humungus sholder and was leading the rest of the first years toward the castle Draco screamed in protest, "I can walk on my own you great lump". This only served to make Hagrid hold the young man's legs tighter. For this reason Draco shut his mouth for the rest of the ride to the school.
With Malfoy still lolling over Hagrid's shoulder, the half-giant knocked loudly on the great oak doors of Hogwarts. Minerva McGonagall stepped into view with what could have been a smile on her face. This, however, didn't last long as she noticed the Malfoy heir playing a sack of potatoes. The deputy headmistress opened her mouth to speak and even moved her lips, but it was as if she suffered from an unbreakable silencing charm. Finally, McGonagall managed to work out, "What's...Going...On.. HhHagrid?" "The firs'years Professor," Hagrid said, forcefully sliding Draco onto his rump as though the first year were a four-year-old. Minerva was somewhat dissatisfied with this answer, giving Hagrid a pointed stare. "Oh, right, errm, Malfoy here had erm, a bit o' trouble gettin' off the boat." "That's a lie you great oaf, I was kidnapped!" came Malfoy's snide reply. "Mr. Malfoy," Minerva began harshly, "Thank you for giving me a brilliant point on which to begin. Very soon each of you will go through these doors and be sorted into your houses. While you're here, your house will be like your family. Any triumphs will earn you house points; any rule breaking-she glared down Malfoy, who was still tenderly massaging his bum-and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the house cup." With that, Minerva led the shaky first years up the flight of stairs directly before them, through another set of large double doors, and all the way to the front of a large hall filled with blackrobed students.
As he walked, Harry couldn't help being distracted by a ceiling full of floating candles, and STARS? A shooting star flew in Harry's direction and he couldn't restrain the obvious question this time around: "Hermione, errm, why are there stars in the ceiling?" "Boys..." Hermione rolled her eyes again. "There aren't really stars, it's just enchanted to look like the sky outside." "Let me guess," Harry said smiling, "Hogwarts: A History?" "How did you know?" Hermione asked. "I didn't, but that's always the story," Harry said as he walked on.
Much too quickly for Harry's liking, the gaggle of 11 year olds was stood before the head table. "Now if you'll all wait along here, I shall call your names, you shall come foward one at a time to have the sorting hat placed upon your head. After your sorting, you'll go to your house table." Harry didn't pay much attention until Hermione's name was called. As the hat was placed on her head, Hermione heard a small, mishchevious voice. "Well, well, Miss Granger I see, a muggle born, but so much talent, so much knowledge, much more than most pure bloods I see and yet also a formidable bravery. Better be..." Gryffindor! Harry, having discussed house traits at length with Hermione thanks to Hogwarts: A History, cheered loudly along with the Gryffindor table and Ron Weasley.
The next name that disturbed Harry's nervous reverie was that of Draco Malfoy. "They should just expel him now and get it over with!" thought Harry angrily. The instant the hat touched Draco's head, the crazed voice yelled out, "Gryffindor!" Malfoy, who had taken his Slytherinship for granted hadn't paid any attention. He simply beamed maliciously and sauntered toward the Slytherin table, failing to notice that absolutely no one was cheering in the entire Great Hall. Quite the contrary, the entire school was staring at the young Gryffindor as if he were suicidal. The Slytherins glared evily to prove that sitting with them would indeed prove fatal to the Malfoy youth. A few of them looked incredulous as a Malfoy had been placed in a house other than Slytherin, but still sent him poisonous looks. Malfoy was still utterly oblivious. Draco finally stopped, his bum an inch from the edge of the Slytherin bench. Realization sucked out all remaining color in the boy's face as he thoughtlessly dashed at the hat, his primal yell already filling the hall. Before a single teacher even thought about reaching for a wand, Draco had seized the sorting hat and begun to stomp the ancient relic to death. "Get him offfffffffffffff meeee," the hat yelled from beneath Malfoy's foot. This jerked the headmaster from his disbelieving stupor and Albus Dumbledore wandlessly levetated eleven-year-old Draco Malfoy into a background of shooting stars. After setting Draco down at the Gryffindor table with a slight laugh Dumbledore spoke to his deputy. "Minerva if you would be so kind as to straighten out our old friend so that the sorting may continue?" With her face full of shocked disbelief, Minerva did as she was instructed. "Thank...you...both..." the hat said to Dumbledore and McGonagall with a cough. "Are you alright to continue?" Minerva asked before retaking her seat. "Yes, yes, quite alright, we must after all get the ickle firsties sorted into there places musn't we?" "Well if you're sure..." With that, Harry sank back into apathy until at last his own name was called.
"Difficult... Difficult...Very difficult...There's knowledge here and power too, loyal and brave I see, but where to put you?" "Put me with Hermione... Gryffindor," Harry whispered, "Gryffindor, Gryffindor." "Well if your sure... Better be... Gryffindor!" Harry went with a smile to his house table and seated himself next to Hermione, thankful for a relatively uneventful sorting compared to a certain blonde.
As Ron's name was called, he looked with mindless pride to Harry, Hermione, and then to his brothers, Fred and George, giving everyone but Percy a hopeful smile. The hat's voice came, taunting as ever, "Another Weasley, eh, but different from the rest I see? Oh yes my boy a surprise for you, it had better be... SLYTHERIN!" Ron sat dumbfounded on the stool, unwilling to move. Harry noticed Percy going whiter than Headwig's feathers. The head boy immediately got up and ran to the owlery to send post to his mother. After recovering from the shock, Fred and George stood up, and with a unison charm, turned the sorting hat a violent shade of pink. Unfortunately for Ron, the now horribly pink hat was still perched atop his head. The youngest Weasley boy ripped the hat off, throwing it to the ground and stomping furiously. Sensing another opportunity to right his life, Draco Malfoy abandoned all thought and ran to help. Eventually Dumbledore had to gently levetate both Ron and Draco, "While I must congratulate you on your show of interhouse unity, I'm afraid I'll have to take ten points from each of your houses for abuse of the sorting hat." With that, Dumbledore stood both boys before their respective tables, and ordered the nearest prefects to have both first years leg lockered until further notice. The sorting was eventually concluded, and the first years were led back to their dormitories. At first chance, the school's resident potions master departed for the owlry... "Lucius..."
Meanwhile, Harry Potter was being led before a medium built stone gargoyle by Professor McGonagall. "Bertybot's" McGonagall whispered and the stone gargoyle lept aside. The pair stept onto a moving staircase. Five minutes and three goes at a phoenix knocker later, they were admitted into the headmaster's office by a reserved, "Enter." Harry marveled at all of the strange, silver devices and moving pictures of old people. "Mr. Potter, sit!" McGonagall snapped. Harry did just as he was told, jumping into the nearby chair as if he were in boot camp. "Mr. Potter," Dumbledore began, "You must not continue in this line of behavior. Howevermuch you may dislike young Mr. Malfoy, that gives you no right to physically mawl him under any circumstances. Such behavior is highly unbecoming of a Gryffindor, let alone someone of your status." Harry started at this, but quickly thought better of opening his mouth any further. Instead, Harry just stared blankly at the headmaster, "That's it, sir?" he asked. "Indeed, unless of course there is something you wish to tell me." "No sir." "Well then, Minerva could you please send for the head boy? There is something we must discuss in private, and I don't wish to send our young Mr. Potter off alone." "Of course, headmaster," Minerva replied. Tapping into the very spirit of the school, Minerva thought, "Percy..." On patrol in the seventh floor corridor, Percy Weasley looked down to find his head boy's badge glowing in brilliant flashes of red and gold. He ran as quickly as he could to the headmaster's office and rasped out, "Bertybot's" in between wheezes.
"You called professors? Ah hello again Harry!" Percy said upon entering the office. "Yes, Mr. Weasley, would you please be kind enough to lead young Harry back to the dormitories?" requested McGonagall. "Of course," Percy said, ushering Harry back down the moving staircase. "Hey Percy, how did you know to come to the headmaster's office?" Harry asked. "Simple mate, this badge glows with Gryffindor colors whenever I'm needed and it kind of tells me where I need to go." "Cool," Harry replied."
Back in the headmaster's office, Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were having a rather loud discussion with the poor poor sorting hat. "A Malfoy in Gryffindor, And a Weasley in Slytherin! I'm insulted!" cried Minerva. "Are you certain my old friend that you didn't confuse the two?" asked Dumbledore. "Albus, my dear Albus, you know as well as I that the heads, hearts, and most importantly, the souls of the students determine where they are placed, not I." the sorting hat replied indignantly. "But you were given the knowledge of the founders to sort them, not the students to sort themselves! And you got it wrong! Did all of the founders' knowledge seep out from you over the holidays!" Dumbledore raged. "Calm down and have a lemon drop old man. You're being irrational." "Calm, Calm, Calm? I have to write a letter tomorrow explaining to Lucius Malfoy how it is that his precious heir could have been placed in Gryffindor! How am I supposed to be calm!" The sorting hat just chuckled profusely as Minerva handed the headmaster a lemon drop or ten out of his own jar and took two for herself-and that's saying something considering her hatred for muggle sweets- muttering all the while, "Poooor Molly!"
"Draco Lucius Malfoy,
You got placed in Gryffindor and the hat wasn't even on your head for two seconds! What kind of Malfoy are you! To make matters worse you got your arse kicked by that Potter brat! Two monumental disgraces and the year has barely begun; you'll be lucky if I don't disown you immediately, and I'm not finished with you yet...
Lucius "
Just as Draco's howler finished, the Great Hall once again filled with screams, but this time it was a woman's voice, one that roared even more vigorously than that of Lucius Malfoy.
"Ronald Bilius Weasley!
A SLYTHERIN! Your brother sent post immediately after it happened! Never in all our family history have we Weasleys been so disgraced. If we didn't still love you Ronald, you would be blasted off the family tapestry immediately. We do still love you, I guess, but HOW IN MERLIN'S NAME COULD YOU BE A SLYTHERIN! It goes against the Weasley nature! We will be having a serious discussion when you get home for break. You'd better hope I can keep your father under control in the meantime!
Mum,
Draco's letter shreded itself to pieces; Ron's letter stuck a slobbery red toungue at out the red head, and then likewise shreded itself apart.
Both Ron and Draco sat in self-loathing and disgust. Before either could return to his food, however, the doors of the Great Hall were flung open...
CHAPTER END UNTIL NEXT TIME:)
PLEASE R AND R:)