Chapter 2: September 1st
John Winchester took the morning off from work to drive the boys to King's Crossing. He loaded both of their trunks on a trolley, despite Dean's assurance that he could do it himself, and pushed the trolley to the barrier between platforms nine and ten.
"Here we are," he said. "Dean, can you take it from there?"
"Of course, dad," Dean replied.
Mr Winchester couldn't go through the magical barrier, so they said goodbye before crossing to platform nine and three-quarters.
"Be good and make sure to study," dad told Sam, as if there was any need to. "As for you, Dean, you behave this year. Take care of your brother."
Sam pouted. "I'm eleven now, I don't need him to take care of me," he complained, but Dean laughed and ruffled his hair.
"Don't worry, Sammy is safe with me," Dean said. "See you next summer."
"Sooner than that, I hope," his father said with a small smile. "You'll be coming home for the Christmas holidays, won't you?"
Dean nodded, unsure. "If you're not too busy," he said.
"Of course!" his father said. "Don't forget to write. I don't care if the neighbours complain, let me know how things are going."
After a quick hug, Dean was the first to push his trolley through the barrier and step on the platform. Sam followed shortly after, still pouting.
"Cheer up, Sammy, we're going to Hogwarts," Dean said. He didn't want to argue with his brother on his first day. "For a school, it's not too bad..."
Sam shook his head. "You know, dad won't have time for us," he said. "Last year, when you came home for Christmas, he worked all the time and left us alone."
Dean's face clouded. "It's not his fault," he said. "Hogwarts' tuition isn't cheap, and now he's got to pay for both of us."
"You don't know anything, you weren't home for the past four years," Sam insisted. "Maybe you don't notice because you've always been his favourite."
Before Dean could reply, he thrust his hands in his pockets and ran off towards the train.
"Hey!" Dean exclaimed, but didn't go after his brother. To look after him didn't mean that they should be attached at the hip, Sam would manage on his own. Anyway, Dean would have died of embarrassment if his friends saw him dragging his kid brother around all the time.
He loaded the two trunks on the train and started looking for a seat. Towards the front of the train he found a compartment that was almost empty, save for a couple of Gryffindors sitting next to the window.
Dean sat down and stretched his legs on the seat in front of him. "Hi, Victor," he said. "Gordy, how are you?"
Gordon Walker nodded at him. "Hi," he replied, laconic.
"You're late as usual, Dean," said Victor Henricksen by way of a greeting. Both him and Gordon were in Dean's year. Victor was the Keeper of the Quidditch team, while Gordon played Beater.
"Celebrities are allowed to be fashionably late," Dean replied with a grin.
Victor rolled his eyes. "You think too highly of yourself," he said, though he had a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He pointed to a silver badge pinned on his robes. "You better behave this year, I'm your new prefect."
Dean smirked with superiority. "Is that so? Guess who's your new Quidditch captain."
His friend gave him the thumbs-up. "Congrats," he said. "I knew Singer would pick you, you've always been his favourite."
"Too true," Gordon grumbled, apparently talking with the window, but loud enough so that everyone heard him.
Dean froze. "What do you mean?" he snapped.
Gordon turned to stare at him. "You know perfectly well what I mean, Winchester," he replied. "Singer has been playing favourites ever since you got on the team."
"Come on, Gordon, that was just a joke," Victor tried to say in a soothing tone, but Dean's clenched his fists and jumped to his feet.
"You're a moron," he told Gordon, "and I've got half an idea to replace you with someone who can really play Quidditch, unlike you."
He left the compartment in such a hurry that he almost cannonballed into a couple of Ravenclaws who were just passing.
Victor ran after him. "Dean, don't be mad," he said. "We all know that Singer chose you on talent alone."
Dean made a face. "Not all," he replied. "Not Gordon. He's been holding a grudge ever since I made Seeker instead of him in third year."
Victor shook his head and didn't reply to that. "You two warthog-heads should try to get along, otherwise our chances of winning the Cup will be less than zero," he said instead. "Gordon might be stubborn and brash, but he's a damn good Beater."
He was right, as usual, but Dean didn't care to spend the whole journey listening to Gordon's snide remarks. He said goodbye to Victor and went looking for another compartment. With some luck, his rage would have subsided by the time they got to Hogwarts. It wouldn't have been good to start his career as Quidditch captain by throttling one of his players.
Meanwhile the Hogwarts Express had left the station behind and was racing through the countryside. The front of the train was always packed full, so Dean headed down the corridor in the other direction.
A couple of carriages down he found his brother in a compartment full of first years. Sammy was talking with a really cute girl and he blushed crimson when Dean asked him if he'd found himself a girlfriend already. Dean made a mental note to tease him more about that later.
Further along there were Raphael and some of his cousins. The Miltons were a huge family, there were four of them in that compartment alone, all dressed in immaculate uniforms with the Slytherin colours. Dean noticed Anna Milton, one of the cutest fifth years. Luckily she was talking with Raphael and her back was turned to the corridor: she had gone out a couple of times with Dean in their fourth year, with disastrous results, and Dean didn't really want to be seen by her. He quickly walked past.
All the other carriages were full. Dean considered going back to Sam's and travelling with the first years but then, at the very end of the train, he found a compartment that was almost completely empty. The only occupant, a boy with dark hair that Dean didn't know, was engrossed in the reading of a huge leather-bound book.
"Are those seats free?" Dean asked.
The boy nodded without looking up from his book. Dean sank down on a seat in front of him. For some minutes, nobody spoke.
Dean looked out of the window, then he stared at the book and tried to guess what it was about. It didn't look like any of their textbooks. Maybe Sam would have liked it, but Dean didn't care much about books.
He was more interested about finding out who this kid was, since he knew most of the students. The boy was wearing Muggle attire, jeans and a t-shirt, so Dean didn't even know which House he was in.
The journey to Hogwarts was long, and it didn't take much for Dean's curiosity to get the better of him.
"I'm Dean," he said. "Dean Winchester."
The other boy glanced at him, and for a moment Dean saw a round face and two blue eyes. "Castiel," he said, going back to his book.
That wasn't nearly enough to satisfy Dean's curiosity. He didn't even know if Castiel was the student's first or last name.
"I'm a fifth year," Dean insisted. "Gryffindor."
"I know," Castiel said. "I saw you playing Quidditch last year."
That at least was something. Dean grinned. "Do you like Quidditch?"
Castiel shrugged. "A bit. Do you like it?"
"Of course I do!" Dean exclaimed, warming up. "It's my favourite thing ever. This year we're going to wipe the floor with the Hufflepuffs and take back the Quidditch Cup."
"I'm in Hufflepuff," Castiel replied, his tone neutral.
Dean's smile froze on his lips. "Er... I mean... What I meant is..."
The other shrugged. "I didn't take offence."
Dean breathed a sigh of relief. Typical of him to make a fool of himself, but seeing the book he had assumed that Castiel was a Ravenclaw bookworm. He watched Castiel turn a page.
"What are you reading?" he asked after a while.
Castiel put a finger between the pages to keep his place and showed him the cover of the book. The title was printed in faded silver letters, but Dean managed to decipher it.
"Portents & Prophecies," he read. "A Complete Manual For The Modern Warlock."
"It's not very modern," Castiel said, almost apologetically. "It's from last century, but aside from the textbook it's the only book on Divination that I found at home."
"You're taking Divination?"
Castiel nodded. "I'm starting this year. It seems to be an interesting subject. You?"
"No, it's too..." Dean stopped himself before he could say "too stupid". Trying to predict the future felt like a waste of time to him: after all, the future wasn't something already decided. But he didn't want to give offence twice in as many minutes, so instead he said, "I'm taking Care of Magical Creatures instead."
It was one of his favourite subjects, and Dean embarked in a lengthy tale about how last year Professor Singer had taken the class into the Forbidden Forest and showed them a unicorn foal.
Castiel seemed to like the story, and he even closed his book to listen. "I read somewhere that younger unicorns are gold instead of white," he said after Dean had finished talking, "but I've never seen one. I wish I'd chosen Care of Magical Creatures too."
"Which other subjects do you have?" Dean asked.
Castiel counted them on the tip of his fingers. "Divination, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes."
Dean whistled. "Tough ones!"
For a moment Castiel's expression changed, but his face went back to neutral so quickly that Dean thought he might have imagined it. "My parents insisted that I take Ancient Runes," Castiel said. "It's a family tradition."
"My dad is a Muggle," Dean shrugged. "So I don't have any tradition to carry on. I chose Muggle Studies instead, I like it a lot because it's easy and I can get good grades without having to study. It's too bad you don't have a subject like that to choose. It could be called something like Magical Studies..."
There were a few seconds of silence. "I don't understand," Castiel said after a while, tilting his head sideways."
"It was a joke," Dean said, trying to grin. "Magical Studies because you're from a family of wizards, it would be the same of Muggle Studies for students who come from a Muggle family."
Castiel was sill staring. "But all of our courses could be termed 'magical studies'," he said, making quotation marks with his fingers.
Dean was tempted to reply with another joke, but Castiel seemed honestly baffled. He decided to gave up trying to explain any further. "Never mind," he said, and he changed the subject.
By the time the lunch cart came by, Castiel's book had been put aside and the two boys were talking about their favourite and least favourite teachers. Castiel liked Professor Missouri, who was Head of Hufflepuff House and taught Herbology. Dean found her tyrannical and preferred the Deputy Headmaster, Professor Singer. Both boys agreed that Crowley was the worst teacher that Hogwarts had ever seen.
After lunch, Dean took out a deck of cards and taught Castiel how to play poker. Castiel had never seen Muggle playing cards and he kept poking the figures to see if they would move. His deadpan face was good for bluffing, but he kept forgetting the values of the various combinations and he kept losing badly.
"One more," he insisted after every hand, only to lose once again. Dean hasn't been keeping score, but he figured that if they had been gambling then Castiel would have owed him several hundreds of Galleons. Castiel didn't seem too upset by that, though, and the two boys only stopped playing when the train stopped at Hogsmeade Station.
They got changed in a hurry, pulling their robes over jeans and t-shirts, and they were among the last students to get off the train. Dean glimpsed a column of first years heading off towards the lake. He wanted to run after Sam and wish him good luck, but at the gates of the station Victor was gesturing for him to get a move.
He was about to go and join his friends when Anna Milton stepped in front of him.
"Winchester," she snapped. "What were you doing with my brother?"
"Your brother?" Dean repeated, not understanding. His stare went from Anna, with her red hair and her new Slytherin prefect badge, to Castiel, with his rumpled clothes and mussed hair from when he pulled on his robes in a hurry. Castiel shrugged. "He's your brother?" Dean asked Anna, still not really believing it.
"Don't play dumb, Winchester," Anna said. "It's over between us, so leave my family alone. Let's go, Cassie."
Anna grabbed Castiel's hand and pulled him towards the exit. Castiel waved goodbye, but Dean was too surprised to reply.
He knew that Anna had a younger brother, but for some reason he'd always imagined him as a miniature copy of Anna, a little red-haired Slytherin. Castiel was completely different from her. That shouldn't have come as such a surprise, since after all Dean himself wasn't precisely identical to his brother, but it was still weird to think that he'd just spent the whole journey talking to a Milton, and even weirder to realize that it had been fun.
Dean put these thoughts aside as he caught up with Victor and Gordon just outside the gates of Hogsmeade Station.
Gordon still looked pissed. "About time you showed up!" he grumbled.
"Where in Merlin's name did you run off to?" Victor asked, but in a much friendlier tone. "Was that Anna Milton? Don't tell me you were hitting on her again!"
Dean shook his head. "No way, she said it's over," he said, not bothering to mention the rest of his conversation with her. If his friends wanted to think he'd spent the day with Anna, Dean wasn't going to correct that assumption. It was better than having to explain about Castiel, and how he'd had a great time talking to a Hufflepuff that he barely knew.
During the short carriage ride, Victor finally managed to make peace between Dean and Gordon. At first they both shook hands grudgingly and kept glaring at each other, but by the time the carriage stopped in front of the castle they were on friendly terms again.
"It's your brother's first year, isn't it?" Gordon asked Dean while they marched into the Great Hall. "Do you think he'll be a Gryffindor too?"
"Of course he will," Dean replied with a grin. His mother had been a Gryffindor, and his grandparents too. It was one of the reasons why Dean liked being at Hogwarts so much.
As the boys were sitting down at the Gryffindor table, Headmaster Shurley made his entrance, followed by all his staff members. Headmaster Shurley was... weird. There wasn't a word that could describe him better. He wasn't old at all, quite the contrary, he was younger than many of the other teachers. Before arriving at Hogwarts he'd spent most of his life writing a series of unsuccessful novels about two Muggle brothers.
Dean knew the headmaster very well, having been sent to his office several times when one of his jokes had really angered a teacher. Usually Shurley shook his head and started scolding Dean, only to lose track of what he was saying and start telling stories instead. He was completely barmy, but Dean liked him. He grinned as Shurley passed by.
On the other hand, Dean couldn't stand Professor Crowley.
"Do you think I could manage to Transfigure his goblet of pumpkin juice into a toad?" Dean asked in an undertone.
Victor and Gordon laughed. Crowley didn't hear the joke, otherwise he wouldn't have missed the opportunity to give Dean detention, but he saw them laughing and went over to where they were sitting.
"Mr Winchester," Crowley said, giving them a nasty smile. "Mr Walker. Perhaps you two would like the dubious honour of becoming the only students ever to lose points before the start-of-term feast?"
Luckily, Professor Singer entered just then with the first years in tow. "Crowley, never mind those idiots," he told his colleague. "We're about to start the Sorting Ceremony."
Professor Crowley seemed about to argue, but both Headmaster and Deputy Headmaster were staring at him. He made a face and strode off to sit at the teachers' table, his emerald green cloak billowing after him.
Dean stuck out his tongue at Crowley while his back was turned.
"Be careful, Crowley is going to get back at you for this," Victor said, but Dean ignored his warning. Crowley was always looking for reasons to take points off him anyway.
While Professor Singer explained about the Sorting Hat, Dean had a look at the first years lined up at the back of the Hall.
"There, that's my brother," he said, pointing at Sammy. He had to speak in a very low voice to avoid being harangued by Crowley again. Victor and Gordon craned their heads to get a better look.
"The tall one, next to the blondie?" Victor asked.
Dean nodded, even though he never thought of Sam as tall since he was his little brother. But it was true that Dean's old robes didn't fit him and he'd had to buy new ones.
The Sorting Ceremony lasted for what seemed like hours. Dean had only eaten one turkey sandwich for lunch and he was starving, but that year the Hat seemed to be taking forever to decide. Moreover, by going in alphabetical order, Sam's was going to be the last name called. Dean started to think about how to set up tryouts for the team.
He had just decided that he should reserve the Quidditch pitch first thing on Monday when he noticed a familiar face. "Harvelle, Joanna," called Professor Singer, and Dean recognized the girl he'd met at Ollivander's. Her head was held high and she looked very determined, though she clenched her hands around the edges of the stool when Singer put the Hat over her eyes. After a handful of seconds the Hat yelled, "Gryffindor!"
Their table clapped as Harvelle took off the hat and went to sit with the members of her new House. Dean would have liked to talk to her, but she picked a seat far from where he was.
After Harvelle there was another girl, "Masters, Meg," who ended up in Slytherin. Then it was the turn of "Moore, Jessica Lee," the cute blonde girl that Sam had been talking to on the train. The Hat kept her sitting for almost one minute before sending her to Ravenclaw. Dean saw that Sam was pouting and felt a bit sorry for him. Surely his brother had been hoping that they would end up in the same House.
The last letters passed very slowly. O, R, two Ss... Then, finally, "Winchester, Samuel," Professor Singer called.
Sam sat down on the stool and looked around the Hall. Dean waved, but he wasn't sure that Sam saw him before Professor Singer put the Hat over his eyes.
Students and teachers waited while the Hat thought about which House would get the last student of the year. And waited. And waited some more.
"How long is this going to take?" Gordon whispered. "It must have been ten minutes already!"
"Not that long, surely," Victor said, but it was true that Sam's Sorting was taking the longest time. Every now and then he squirmed on the stool, but the Hat didn't give any sign that it was close to a decision. The professors seemed surprised too, and some were glancing at their pocket watches.
Then finally the Hat took a deep breath and yelled, "Ravenclaw!"
There was a huge applause as Sam, crimson in the face, took off the Hat. For a moment Dean thought he'd misheard, but the table where Sammy sat down was definitely the Ravenclaw one. Dean gaped at his brother.
"What?" Gordon began, but Victor elbowed him in the ribs to make him shut up.
Dean turned his back to the other tables and ignored the Headmaster's welcome speech. He focused on the food, even though all of a sudden he didn't feel hungry any more. Victor and Gordon tried to engage him in conversation, but Dean's answers were laconic and soon his friends gave up and started talking about a Quidditch match that the two of them had seen over the summer.
As soon as the desserts disappeared, Victor stood up. "I've got to show the first years the way to the Tower," he said. "You two go ahead, I'll see you in the dormitories."
Dean and Gordon left the Great Hall together, but on the stairs they crossed paths with a group of Ravenclaws going the other way. Sammy was with them, and Dean noticed that his brother was avoiding his eyes.
"We've got to talk," Dean told Sam. He took his brother's arm and dragged him in a corner of the landing, ignoring both Gordon and the Ravenclaws.
Sam pouted and stared at the floor. "I'm sorry, Dean," he mumbled.
Dean hadn't expected that. "Come on, what are you saying?" he said. "It's true I was disappointed, but it's not your fault. I'll still see you around at lunch and after lessons. Try not to get into troubles just because I'm not around!"
He was trying to make it sound like a joke, but Sam seemed more and more dejected. At the end, he confessed. "Yes, it's my fault," he said. "The Hat couldn't decide, so it asked me to pick between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw."
Slowly, Dean understood what his brother was trying to say. His smile completely vanished from his face. "You're saying you could have been in Gryffindor," he said, glacial, "but you chose another House?"
Sam nodded. "I thought about it, Dean, I really did, but..."
"But what, Sammy?" Dean snapped. "Gryffindor is my House! Everyone from our family was in that House, mum was in that House!"
"But I'm not you!" Sam yelled. He was on the verge of tears. "And I'm not mum either!"
Before Dean could reply, the Ravenclaw prefect came to see what was happening to one of her first years. She was a brown-haired, bespectacled girl that Dean knew by sight. She'd flirted with Dean at times, but tonight she didn't seem in the mood.
"Dean Winchester, stop bothering my students or I'll tell the Head of your House," she said, stern. While she was scolding him, Sam hurried back to the group of Ravenclaws.
"Leave him alone," Gordon told Dean after the prefect and the first years had moved away. "If your brother chose them instead of his family, it's not worth it to get angry because of him."
Dean reached the dormitory in a foul mood. When Victor returned, Dean was already in bed, with the curtains drawn around him to avoid being disturbed. It took him a long time to fall asleep.
