year one: the first installment: almonds upon thy tongue
word count: 5971
Harry boards the Hogwarts Express, the two red-headed twins - Fred and George, he remembers, and how their smiles sent a certain chill of wariness down his spine - long gone from his compartment, and its occupant of one. Hedwig hoots by his feet, and he looks down at her, and her slightly ruffled feathers. She gives him an unimpressed look through amber eyes, and tucks her head into her wings, preening and plucking feathers that are out-of-sorts.
He wishes he could let her out - Hedwig's been mostly cooped up all summer, because Harry doesn't want to get in even more trouble with the Dursleys than he already is - but the question is, are there rules about this sort of thing? Will he get in trouble for releasing his owl in a train? He'd never quite thought about things such as these, but then again, Harry has never had an owl before, much less a pet.
(Dudley had a turtle, once upon a time, about four years ago, but that turtle died. Dudley never bothered to feed it, and when Harry got caught sneaking it lettuce scraps from the fridge, the handprints across his back burned purple-red for days. By the time he'd been let out from his cupboard, the turtle had died, and all that remained was an empty shell.)
There's a knock at the compartment door, and Harry looks up from watch Hedwig, as an out of breath kid comes tumbling into the compartment, pulling along an all-too stuffed suitcase, a threadbare backpack with hastily stitched on patches, and a pure gray cat. The cat sits in the pitch black rats-nest of hair the kid has, and he looks slightly out of breath from lugging the suitcase and backpack around. He hasn't appeared to have spotted Harry, so Harry clears his throat softly, and flinches as the other kid does as well.
"Shit," he mutters, as the cat bounds forcefully off from his head, and onto the luggage rack. "Rocky, get down from there, please." The kid initiates an impromptu staring contest with the cat, as Harry watches on with a mixture of amusement, and just plain confusion. "Whatever," he finishes, looking away from the smug feline. He turns his gaze to Harry - and wow. What a shade of green - or maybe blue. Harry imagines that this is what the ocean must look like, when it's not dark with brine and the coming of a storm.
"Hello," Harry offers, as the other kid goes faintly red. The marks that look like handprints around his neck stand out even more as the kid goes pink, but Harry chooses not to mention it. He knows what it's like, at the very least.
"H-hey. Sorry, do you want me to go? 'Cause, I totally can, if you want me to, I don't really want to be a bother." His American accent stands out sharply, the syllables harsh and sharp, despite his soft voice.
Harry shakes his head. "It's not really an issue. You can sit."
The American boy beams tentatively at him, but there's still something guarded in his eyes, something wary, and Harry knows that looks, knows it like he would a best friend.
It's the look of someone who's been hurt, hurt over and over again, but doesn't know why.
"Cool." He sets his knapsack onto the seat across from where Harry sits, and with a grunt, tries to hoist his bulging suitcase onto the luggage rack, teetering and swerving around as he tries not to crush his cat in the process.
"Oh - uh, let me help!" Harry springs up, and pushes on the suitcase as well - and it works well enough. Their scrawny arms combined are enough to get the suitcase perched precariously atop the luggage rack, and Rocky the cat leaps down. It's settled back into Harry's compainion's bed-head again, purring slightly as it kneads thick tufts of hair.
"Thanks for that. I'm Percy Jackson." Percy offers his hand to Harry, leaning forward in his seat. "It's nice to meet you..." he trails off, obviously waiting for Harry to tell him his name.
Harry's glad that not everyone knows his name. It was uncomfortable enough in Diagon Alley, and all that bowing, and groveling. He hadn't done anything for those people - he'd been a baby, and they were celebrating him living while his parents had died at the hands of a mass murderer. It's nice to know that even he can have a shred of normalcy in his life at this point.
"Nice to meet you Percy," Harry answers, taking his hand lightly, politely. "I'm Harry Potter."
"Cool glasses," Percy remarks, settling back into the hard leather backing. "Are you a first year too, Harry?"
"Hum? Yeah...what House do you think you'll be sorted into?" Harry draws his knees up to his chin, tucking the ripped knees of his jeans underneath his chin, and it tickles slightly, but he makes no move to change his position.
Percy shrugs, gently removing his drowsy cat from atop his head, and settling it atop the leather seats - but to no avail. Rocky simply lets out what sounds to be a derisive snort, and hops straight back into the nest it had made of his hair. "Rocky...why...worst cat ever, come on man..."
Harry lets out a small laugh, and Percy stops prodding his cat, to look at his friend/acquaintance. "Is Rocky a boy or a girl?"
He smiles fondly up at the cat, green-blue eyes crinkling at the corners. "Rocky's a girl. She's gonna be my wingman at Hogwarts though. Hopefully not by making my hair even messier than it already is. I have no idea how she manages that, though." Percy looks down at where Hedwig's cage rests on the floor, and shudders slightly as the owl affixes him with a yellow-orange glare.
"Uh...your owl looks like it wants to kill me, Harry..."
Harry looks around his knees and down at Hedwig, who is indeed glaring at Percy with all the fury an owl can possibly muster. "Huh...she is...do birds not like you, or something?"
"Nope." Percy shakes his head immediately, and hisses as Rocky clings to his scalp in order not to fall off. "I'd have gotten an owl if possible - y'know, mail and all that, but they all tried to bit me, or glared at me like I was going to steal their babies, so I just...stuck with Rocky."
Rocky lets out a hissed mewl at this, as if to take offense to the slander against her name.
"Not that you're not brilliant, of course, Rocky," Percy soothes, as Harry laughs at the cat and her owner's antics.
Percy is certainly better company than Dudley and his gang ever were.
A train whistle howls in the distance, and both Percy and Harry look out the window. The little girl - the younger sister of the two red-headed brothers is chasing after the train as fast as she can, hair streaming out behind her like a ribbon, as she seems to both laugh and cry at the same time. Harry watches as both the girl and her mother disappear as the train turns a bend, and both he and Percy look away from the window.
"Was your mom out there?"
"Nah," Percy mumbles. "She had to work, so one of the professors - think his name was Snake, or something like that, came to get me. We live all the way in the U.S, so it's not like I'd really have been able to just drive down, y'know?"
Harry drops the subject.
The compartment door slides open as the silence begins to feel oppressive, and the youngest boy of the red-headed family comes in.
"Room for one more?" he asks, pointing to the seat next to Percy. "Everywhere else is full."
Harry and Percy swap a glance, and then Percy shrugs, and Harry shakes his head. The boy sits down, after chucking his trunk into the luggage rack. He glances at Harry and then quickly looked away, out the window, pretending that he hadn't looked. Percy looks back to Harry, and mouths, 'He's got dirt on his nose - did you see?' Harry presses a finger to his lips, shaking his head. Percy shrugs, and dislodges Rocky from his head once more, settling her atop his lap, lightly stroking her fur.
"Oi, Ron."
The twins were back.
"Listen, we're going down to the middle of the train - Lee Jordan's got a huge tarantula down there. Want to come?" The tone is mocking, obviously goading the younger sibling.
"Right," Ron mumbles, hands fisting in his lap.
"Harry and various acquaintance," says George, "Have we introduced you to our brother yet? No? This is Ron Weasley, our younger brother. We'll see you later, then."
"Bye," Harry and Ron mumble, and Percy offers a lazy wave as he scratches behind Rocky's triangle ears.
"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurts, and Percy looks up questioningly.
Harry flushes faintly, and nods.
Percy still looks confused.
"Oh - uh, well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," Ron stammers. "And, have y'really got - you know..." He gestured vaguely to Harry's forehead.
"Got what?" Percy pipes up, an eyebrow cocked. "What's so special about being Harry Potter?" He doesn't sound jealous to Harry, merely confused, as if he can't fathom why there's something so special about Harry's name, and whatever Ron has gestured to that lies underneath his pitch black bangs.
Harry pulls back his bangs, baring the lightning scar. Percy winces, and Ron gapes.
"That looks painful. How'd you manage to get that?"
Ron tears his gaze away from Harry's bangs, which lie flat over the scar, and instead, gapes at Percy this time. Percy scowls at Ron, and continues to scratch Rocky's back and ears. The low rumble of her purrs are quiet, and oddly soothing background noise.
"Blimey! You mean - you don't..." Ron fishes around for words, but instead of words, all either boy gets out of him are flimsy gestures, and sounds that would probably also come from a dying fish.
"Spit it out!" Percy demands. "What don't I know?"
"He's the bloody Boy Who Lived! He survived the Avada Kedavra! Killed You-Know-Who! You don't know who he is?" Ron wails, arms nearly pinwheeling.
Harry wants to die of embarrassment. What did he do to deserve this?
Percy looks unimpressed, if not slightly confused as well. "Must not have reached America then. You-Know-Who is the equivalent of a wizard terrorist, I'm guessing?"
Harry shrugs twitchily. "I...I guess?"
"Oh, okay. Cool."
Ron lets out a sigh that sounds suspiciously like the words muggle-born, and turns back to Harry. "So, is that where You-Know-Who-"
"I can't remember it," Harry says, voice flat.
"Nothing?" Ron asks eagerly.
Percy snorts, rolling his eyes. "If he says he doesn't remember anything, then why the hell are you asking him about it?"
"Ah...I..." Ron stammers.
Harry fumbles for a subject change. Percy is wound up - and as honored as Harry is that he's sticking up in defense of him, it really wouldn't do anyone any good if Percy made it into a physical fight. "Are all your family wizards?" He blurts. Quite honestly, Ron - and the Wizarding World in general was just as interesting to him, as Harry likely was to Ron.
"Er - yes. I think so." Ron replies. "I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never really talk about him."
"So you must know loads of magic already."
The Weasleys were quite clearly one of those old wizarding families the pale-haired boy in Diagon Alley had been talking about.
"I heard you went to live with Muggles," Ron says. "What are they like?"
"Horrible - well not all of them. Just my aunt, uncle and cousin though." Harry sighs.
"My mom's the best," Percy pipes up, looking away from Rocky, who's dozing in his lap. "She makes really good cookies. I'll write to her for some, if you want."
"Cookies?" That catches Ron's attention fairly quickly. "What kind?"
"Chocolate chip, generally. I guess sugar cookies every now and then, though? But hey," Percy says offhandedly. "It must be cool to have two wizard brothers."
"Five," Ron laments, looking gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. Guess you could say that I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left - Bill was Head Boy, and Charlie was Gryffindor's Quidditch captain. Now Percy's a prefect. Not to mention, Fred and George. They mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks, and everyone thinks their real funny." He sighs sharply, and cracks his knuckles half-heartedly. "Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. It's not fun, having five brothers. You never get anything new, for one thing. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat." As if to prove his point, Ron reached into his worn jacket, and pulled out a fat gray rat, fast asleep in his hands.
Harry didn't want to know how Ron had managed to shove that into his coat.
"His name's Scabbers. He's useless, and hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from Dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff - I mean, I got Scabbers instead." Ron's ears went pink, and he cleared his throat nervously, obviously thinking that he'd said too much.
"S'okay," Percy mutters from across the compartment. "My mom and I don't have too much money either. Not everyone needs an owl anyways, Ron." He flashed Ron a small grin, and the other boy seemingly relaxed.
Personally, Harry couldn't quite see what was so wrong with being unable to afford an owl. After all, he'd never had any money to himself before this summer, and he told both Ron and Percy so, from having to wear Dudley's clothes, to never getting proper birthday presents. This seemed to cheer Ron up, while Percy just eyed him with a mixture of empathy and understanding.
Harry sort of appreciated that. He prattled on about learning about being a wizard, until -
"-and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard, or about my parents or Voldemort -"
Ron yelps, and Percy started from where he had begun to slowly doze off, Rocky leaping from his lap with a chilly hiss.
"What was that for?!" Percy wheezed, hand pressed over his heart.
"He said You-Know-Who's name!" Ron wails, sounding both shocked and impressed.
"Oh," he mumbles. "Is that his name?" Percy bends back over to pick Rocky up, shushing the fussy feline.
"I - I'd have thought that you of all people," Ron continues, stammering as if he'd just seen a ghost.
"It's not like I'm trying to be brave, or anything, saying the name," Harry protests, "I guess I just never learned that we weren't supposed to. See what I mean, I've got loads to learn...I bet," he adds, voice slipping down into a self-conscious mumble. This thought had been bothering him ever since Hagrid had left. "I'll bet that I'm the worst in the class."
"Nah," Percy says, yawning. "That'll probably be me, no doubt. I can barely read English."
Ron balks. "I thought you were from America, mate!"
The other boy shrugs. "It's not because I don't understand, it's dys...something. Dysphoria? No...that's not it...I don't remember what it's called, to be honest."
Ron was quick to jump in. "You won't be. Either of you. There's loads of people coming from Muggle families, and they learn quick enough."
While their small trio had been talking, the train had carried them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows, sheep, and grass that would likely be waist high for both Harry and Percy. Ron was taller than the both of them, but gladly, not by too much. They were quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes flicker past.
Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor, and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and asks, "Would any of you like something off the cart?"
As if on cue, Percy's stomach grumbled, and Harry stifled a laugh. He hadn't had any breakfast, so leapt to his feet. Ron's ears went that same shade of faint pink once more, as he muttered about bringing his own sandwiches. Percy shook his head as Harry looked back at him.
Harry follows the woman out into the corridor.
Percy was gagging on a jalapeno flavored jellybean when their compartment door was slid open once more. A round faced boy stood on the other side - Harry vaguely remembered him from platform nine-and-three quarters, but mostly remembered the odd hat his guardian had been wearing. He looked as if he was about to burst into tears.
"Sorry," he says, "but have you see a toad anywhere? "
When all three of them shook their heads, he let out a soft wail. "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"
"He's bound to turn up somewhere, right?" Percy offers, standing up, Rocky perched on his head once more. "Would you like some help?"
The blond boy shook his head. "N-no thanks. I've already got someone helping me, but thank you..."
He left.
"I don't know why he's so upset," Ron commented. "If I'd brought a toad, I'd lose it as quick as I could. Well, I brought Scabbers, so I dunno if I can really talk..."
The rat was still sleeping on Ron's lap.
With a noise of disgust, Ron prodded the rat with the tip of his wand.
"He'd have died, and you wouldn't know the difference, huh?" Percy remarked offhandedly.
Ron snorted. "Tell me about it, mate. I tried to turn him yellow yesterday - to make him a little more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..." Flicking his wrist, Ron fiddled with his battered wand. "Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyways -"
He raised his wand as the compartment door slid open again. The chubby blond boy was back, but this time, there was a girl with him. Harry supposed that this was the "someone" else he had mentioned. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes, the empty crest on her left breast looking freshly laundered.
"Have any of you seen a toad? Neville's lost his," she declared. Her voice was a bossy sort, and her hair was bushy and brown. Her front teeth were rather large as well.
"H-Hermione, I already told you that I had asked them -" Neville stammered once more.
The girl was not listening. She looked towards Ron's raised wand with an obvious interest. "Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."
She perched next to Harry, sweeping her gray pleated skirt underneath her thighs. Ron looked taken aback, and he looked to Harry and Percy. Percy shrugged, as if to say, what can you do? And motioned for him to get on with it. Harry stifled a laugh.
"Er...alright, then." He cleared his throat.
"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,
Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."
An astounding amount of nothing happened. Scabbers stayed quite gray, and quite asleep. Percy burst out laughing, sea green eyes crinkling shut. Hermione gave him a rather displeased look.
"Are you certain that's a real spell?" She asked. When Ron didn't answer, she tipped her nose up ever so slightly. "Well, then it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and they've worked rather well for me. No one in my family is magic at all, and it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter - I was ever so pleased, of course. I mean, Hogwarts is the very best school of witchcraft there is, right? I've also learned all our course books by heart, as well. I just really hope that it will be enough. Oh - I'm Hermione Granger, by the way. Who would you be?"
She said it all so fast, that Harry wasn't quite sure what she said, but Percy seemed to have followed her well enough. Of course, Harry hadn't learned any of his course books by heart, and a single glance back at both Percy and Ron was enough to discern that neither of them had either. Ron looked rather shell shocked, and Percy just...looked almost amused. Harry supposed that he was just tired. Or maybe it was an American thing.
"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron mumbled.
"Percy Jackson," Percy said, smiling at Hermione. She smiled tightly back at him.
"Harry Potter," Harry said.
"Are you really?" Hermione beamed. "I know all about you, of course - I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and the Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts. Not to mention Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."
"Am I?"
"He is?"
Both Harry and Percy blurted at the same time. Harry sounded rather dazed, whereas Percy just sounded incredulous, and slightly amused. Harry was glad that at least someone took small bits of amusement from his perceived misfortune.
"You didn't know? God, if I was famous, I'd have found out everything if it was me," Hermione mused. "Do either of you know what House you'll be in? I've done some asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor - it does sound to be the best by far. I heard Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose that Ravenclaw would be favorable as well. Anyways, we'd better get back to looking for Neville's toad. You three should change, you know. I suspect that we'll be there soon." She left after that, in a swirl of her black robes, Neville trotting after her.
"D'you think she remembered to breathe while speaking?" Percy asked, letting out a breathy laugh. "I think that conversation ended up rather one-sided, huh?" There was no malice spiking Percy's tone, only a bit of curiosity, and a wary sort of amusement.
Ron, on the other hand.
"Well, who cares about that! Whatever house that menace gets sorted into, I sure hope I'm not in it!" He exclaimed. He shoved his wand back into the trunk, and Scabbers into his coat. "Stupid bloody spell. George gave it to me, I bet he knew it was a dud."
"What house are your brothers in?" Harry asked.
"Gryffindor," said Ron. The same aura of gloom seemed to be settling over him once more. "My entire family was in Gryffindor. Dunno what they'd say if I wasn't in it. I don't really suppose Ravenclaw would be that bad, but I think I'd die if they put me in Slytherin." He shuddered.
"That's the house Voldemort was in?" Percy commented.
"Don't say the name!" Ron hissed, livid .
Percy looked shocked, and slightly spooked. "Uh...sorry."
"But, yeah," he muttered, flopping back into his seat.
"You know, the ends of Scabber's whiskers look lighter...?" Harry offered, in an attempt to lighten Ron's slowly sinking mood. "So, what do your eldest brothers do now that they've left, anyways?" He wondered what a wizard done once they'd finished schooling. Did they try to go back to living like a Muggle? Go hunt dragons?
"Charlie's in Romania, studying dragons. Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," Ron rattled off. "Oh, did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet. I don't suppose that you get that with Muggles, though. Someone tried to rob a pretty high security vault."
Harry and Percy stared.
"What happened to them?" Percy asked.
"Nothing." Ron lowered his voice, and leaned in closer, as if telling a horror story. "That's why it's such big news. My dad says that it must've been a pretty powerful Dark wizard to get 'round Gringotts - they didn't take anything, which was odd. 'Course," he snorted. "Everyone gets scared when something like this happens - in case You-Know-Who's behind it."
Harry didn't quite understand how a dead man could be behind this, but Hagrid's earlier words echoed in his mind, and when Percy asked about it, he tried to explain it the best he could.
Ron brought up Quidditch teams not long after that, and both Harry and Percy, neither of which knew anything about the sport, were treated to a long, and lengthy lecture about the game, and how it was played.
He'd just gotten to the finer points of the game - and both Harry and Percy were in agreement that it sounded like a lot of fun, when the compartment door slid open once more. Harry was expecting Hermione Granger, and Neville the toad boy, but it was neither of them that stood there.
Three boys came into the compartment, and Harry realized that the palest one in the middle was the pale boy from Madame Malkin's robe shop. His gaze held much more interest than it had in Diagon Alley.
"Is it true?" he drawled. "They're all saying that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, right?"
"Yes," Harry replied, looking at the two boys flanking the other boy. They were thick, heavy set, and extremely mean-looking. They looked quite a lot like bodyguards, standing next to the pale boy like that.
Catching where Harry's gaze had drifted, the pale boy inclined his head towards the two. "This is Crabbe and Goyle. And I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."
"And I'm Bond, James Bond," Percy mocked quietly, laughing at his joke. Harry laughed as well, but Ron, Ron was laughing for a completely different reason than Percy and himself, it seemed.
Draco Malfoy stared at Percy like he was gum stuck to the bottom his clearly expensive loafers, and chose to scowl at Ron instead. "Think my name's funny, do you? Clearly, I don't even need to ask who you are. My father's told me all about the Weasleys. Red hair, hideous freckles, and more children than they could possibly afford."
He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon see that some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You'll not want to make friends with the wrong sorts - blood traitors and mudbloods." At the last word, he sneered in Percy's direction.
Percy scratched at Rocky's tail, which was languidly waving in front of his face, before flashing Malfoy the bird.
Draco scoffed at Percy, and stuck his hand out for Harry to take - but Harry didn't take it.
"You know what? I think I can figure that out for myself, thanks," he drawled back, tone frigid.
Draco Malfoy didn't go red, but a faint pink tinge blossomed across his cheeks, and up to the tips of his ears.
"I'd be rather careful who you offend, Potter. Unless you get a little more polite, you'll go the same way as your parents," he promised slowly. "They didn't know what was good for them either. You hang around with trash like Weasley, Hagrid, and filthy mudbloods, and it'll rub off on you."
Harry and Ron stood up in a flash, but Percy took his time, eyes flashing dangerously.
"You know," he drawled slowly, green eyes hard as ice, "in New York City, when you talk like that about people, most of the times, you get beat."
"Oh, you're going to fight us now, are you?" Malfoy sneered.
"Unless you get out now," Harry ground out, much more bravely than he felt. Crabbe and Goyle were much bigger than the three of them.
"Oh no. But we don't feel like leaving, do we boys? We've eaten all or food, and you still seem to have some."
Goyle's stubby fingers reached towards the Chocolate Frogs next to Ron - Ron began to leap forward, but before he'd so much as touched Goyle, the bulky boy let out a horrible yelp.
Scabbers had leapt from Ron's jacket, and was currently hanging off from Goyle's finger, small, sharp teeth sunk deep into his knuckle. Crabbe and Malfoy backed away, out of the compartment as Goyle swung Scabbers round and round, howling. When Scabbers finally flew from his finger, and hit the window with a soft thump, all three of them retreated. Whether they were afraid of their being more rats, or Percy's death glare, or the footsteps quickly approaching, Harry didn't know. Seconds later, Hermione Granger burst into the compartment, hair looking even more frizzy than it had before - if that was possible.
"What is going on?" She shrieked, looking around at the discord and chaos the train compartment had been thrown into. Ron was bent down by the window, gingerly picking Scabbers up by his tail.
"I think he's been knocked out," Ron remarked. He squinted, looking closer at the rat. "No. I don't believe it - he's gone back to sleep."
"No way," Percy chortled, looking at the rat.
And he had.
"You've met Malfoy before?" Ron asked.
Harry shrugged choppily, and harriedly explained his meeting with him in Diagon Alley.
"I've heard of his family," Ron muttered. "They were some of the first ones to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. They said that they'd been bewitched - 'course, my dad doesn't believe it. He says that Malfoy's father didn't even need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." He turned to Hermione, as if realizing that she was just there. "Can we help you?"
She turned her nose up again. "You'd better hurry up and put your robes on. I've just talked to the conductor, and he says that we're nearly there. I hope you haven't been fighting - but you have, haven't you? You'll be in trouble before we even reach the school."
"Scabbers has been fighting, not us," Ron pointed out, scowling at her. "Would you mind leaving while we change?"
"I only came in here because people outside were being rather childish - running up and down the corridors like fools," she remarked, rather matter-of-factly. "And you've got dirt on your nose, you know?"
Ron muttered darkly, and rubbed at his nose, glaring after her as she left. Harry peered out the windows as he began to change. It had begun to get dark, the sky fading into brilliant rose-gold, and navy-purple hues. The mountains and forests looked ethereal under the evening sunset. They did seem to be going faster.
As the trio began to change, a voice echoed through the train: "We will be arriving at Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave all luggage on the train, as it will be taken to the school separately."
"Nervous?" Percy asked, pushing the wide sleeves of his robe up his arms.
"Sort of," Harry confessed. "How about you?"
Percy chuckled shakily. "Just a little. I'm a long way from home."
Harry shared a smile with the other boy. "That's alright. At least you'll have friends, right?"
Percy looped his arm through Harry's own, beaming. "Yep."
The inside of Hogwarts was enormous, made of large, swooping arches, and so much stone, that Harry was astonished that the entire world still had stone left to spare after the making of this castle. From the gothic windows, multitudes and multitudes of stars could be seen, dotting the navy velvet sky, but their light was diminished in the face of the torches lining the walls.
Percy looked a little starstruck - Harry could sympathize.
A stern woman in emerald green robes had given all the first-years a speech about the Sorting, before disappearing back into what he assumed was the Great Hall. Her eyes had narrowed slightly upon reaching Percy - but when asked about it, Percy simply shrugged, and said that he'd never seen her in his life.
When asked about the Sorting, Ron have a wheezy chuckle, and said, "Some sort of test - Fred and George said something about fighting a troll...but I think they were kidding..."
Harry paled even more.
'Your destiny is one of sorrow.'
I don't care about that. Could you please just yell out a House? It feels like we've been here forever.
'It's also been less than a minute, child.'
Oh. Sorry. Continue on, I guess.
'I good deal of self doubt, I see.'
You are also not my shrink.
'Touchy. It's my job to analyze, you know.'
Are you even getting paid for this?
'Well...no. After all, what reason does a hat have for needing money? What would I possibly do with it - I see what you are doing. Rather clever, really.'
Thanks. I try.
'A great deal of cunning, and personal loyalty as well. Immense bravery, a friendly spirit...perhaps Gryffindor?'
I know absolutely nothing about the Houses. I kind of tuned out what Ron was saying about them on the train.
'No, not Gryffindor. You'd have done well in there, but, better be...
"Slytherin!"
author's notice: well hello, this is the first chapter of 'for the bitter and the sweet.' this story's chapter format will be a little odd - sometimes we'll be jumping in between the past and the future. the chapter lengths will most definitely never be this long regularly. major parts of each year, and each quest, perhaps. i can't truly call this story a drabble collection, but some of the chapters may or may not be drabble length. (drabble length is about 100 words, give or take 100 above that. drabbles normally don't get much longer than 300 words.) i guess most of them will be 1000 words. this one is reallly long.
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-ren