Book I
Chapter 2
Hogwarts
This was it. This was what he had been waiting for. He was standing on the Hogwarts Express and was one long train ride away from being at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. So why was he so nervous? The train lurched and began to pull out of the station. His eyes went to the nearest window and for a second he entertained the thought of leaping out of it and going back home with his parents. He knew his mother would be happy to have him back.
No, He told himself, You've been waiting for this as long as you can remember, you have no reason to be nervous.
But as he looked around the train's corridor and watched the other students settling into compartments, he found his nervousness impossible to squash down. So many of the other students were bigger than him. They laughed and joked loudly with each other and he was starting to feel out of place. But there was no going back now. The train had already pulled away from the station and was picking up steam.
Summoning what little courage he had, he strode forward trying not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. He kept his eyes on the ground, only looking up to make sure he wasn't about to run into anyone and to glance into the compartment doors in hopes of finding an empty one. A scream came from one compartment that caused him to jump out of his skin. He looked in long enough to see a black boy with dreadlocks holding a box with a hairy spider leg poking out. It was the girls surrounding the boy who had screamed. He rushed past that compartment and was lucky enough to find that the next one only had one other person in it.
He slid the compartment door open and poked his head in. The only other occupant was a girl who was too busy looking out the window to notice him.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" He asked, wincing as his voice cracked.
The girl turned away from the window and upon seeing her face Harry felt the floor drop from beneath him. Bushy brown hair and a pale face. She was the girl whose family his parents had helped in Daigon Alley. He rubbed his hand against his cheek at the memory of that day.
The girl, Hermione he remembered, shook her head and turned back to the window. Harry took a seat as far away from her as he could and an awkward silence settled over the compartment. Just when the silence was getting to be too much it was broken by a chorus of high-pitched squeals that came from just outside the compartment door. The door opened and Harry saw a group of at least a dozen girls. All of them were chattering excitedly about something in one loud voice that he couldn't understand. Some of them were holding pieces of parchment and quills, a few of them were holding cameras and taking pictures and one of them was crying.
Bewildered beyond all belief, Harry stood up and backed away from the door. He felt like he was under attack. But it wasn't him the girls were interested in. A tall redheaded boy pulled himself away from the pack of girls and stepped into Harry and Hermione's compartment. The girls reached after him and shouted his name (Ron, Harry could make out). The redhead pushed the girls away from him and managed to shut the door to the compartment.
"Wow," he said, running a hand through his hair as the girls outside continued to call after him and bang on the compartment door. The redhead, Ron, turned away from the door and faced the confused pair of Harry and Hermione. "Oh, didn't realize there were people in here. You guys don't mind if I stay do you? Got to get away from the crowds."
"It's okay," Harry said, though Ron had already taken a seat.
Ron looked at Harry expectantly. When Harry didn't say anything else, he extended his hand and introduced himself.
"I'm Ron Weasley," he said with a grin.
Harry shook his hand and said, "I'm Harry Potter."
Ron frowned, "You don't recognize me?" he asked.
Harry got the impression that this wasn't a usual occurrence, "Sorry," he said, though he wasn't sure what he was apologizing for.
"I'm Ron Weasley!" Ron said. "You know, Weasley Automotive? My family owns that company. My dad invented the flying car. My family's famous! We're in The Prophet nearly every other day!"
Now, Harry felt dumb. "Oh...sorry," he said, "My mum doesn't let me read The Prophet."
"Oh..." Ron said, stunned, "So...Potter, right? I don't think I've ever heard that name before. What do your parents do?"
"They don't really work," Harry said, feeling foolish for having said it. "But they're really rich," he added, hoping it would improve Ron's opinion of him.
Ron did seem impressed. "Must be from old money, huh?" he said.
Harry wasn't sure what that meant, but he smiled and nodded.
They lapsed into silence. Ron's eyes trailed around the compartment. His gaze landed on Hermione, but she had gone back to staring out the window so he didn't bother her. Realizing that Ron was getting bored, Harry quickly tried to start up a conversation.
"So, your father invented the car?" he asked, almost cringing at how lame he sounded.
Ron didn't notice. "Yeah," he said with an enthusiastic nod, "But he invented it a long time before I was born."
Ron looked like he wanted to say more, but he was cut off as Hermione spoke for the first time.
"Your father didn't invent the car," she said with acid in her tone. "Muggles invented the car ages ago. Your father just threw some charms on it to make it fly!"
Ron looked taken aback by her outburst, and Harry was starting to feel nervous again. For a long minute Ron and Hermione just stared at each other and Harry was afraid that a fight might break out. But a fight didn't break out. Ron just smirked.
"You must be a muggleborn," he said.
"And what if I am?"
Ron shook his head and turned away from her. He gave Harry a smile, jerked his thumb towards Hermione and shook his head, indicating that he thought she wasn't worth paying attention to. Harry smiled and shrugged, a simple gesture but one that caused Hermione to huff and turn back to staring out the window.
"So, you like Quidditch?" Ron asked.
Harry brightened, both happy at the change of subject and happy as always to talk about Quidditch. "Love it," he said with a smile. "Who's your team?"
"Chudley Cannons," Ron said, and Harry couldn't help but wince. "Hey, they'll get back to the cup some day!"
"Yeah, maybe if they replace the entire team and down a bunch of luck potion," Harry said, quoting something his father had said once. For a second, he was worried that he might have upset Ron by insulting his favorite team, but the redhead began to laugh and Harry joined in. By the time they were done laughing, Harry noticed that his nervousness from earlier was all gone and he had completely forgotten about Hermione.
"So, who's your team?" Ron asked after the laughter died down.
"Falmouth Falcons," Harry said with pride.
Ron scoffed. "Those bunch of thugs?"
"Hey, it might not be pretty, but they get they job done."
"If by 'get the job done' you mean 'crack the skulls of the opposing team'."
"Is there any other way to play?" Harry asked with a smirk.
Ron let out an uproarious laugh at that.
The two of them continued to talk Quidditch. They only sopped talking when a nice old lady pushing a cart full of snacks came around to their compartment. Ron dropped the woman a Sickle and grabbed an armful of snacks. The Quidditch talk continued around mouthfuls of treats. Neither boy offered to share their food with Hermione and she didn't ask for any.
It was as they were getting closer to Hogwarts that the door to their compartment slid open again, this time to permit a pale blond boy and two short, thick boys who flanked him like bodyguards. Harry and Ron halted their conversation as he entered and set his gaze upon Ron.
"Finally," he said with an exasperated roll of his eyes, "I've been looking for you all day, Weasley."
"Oy, Malfoy," Ron greeted. He stood up and shook the boy's hand. "Didn't see you on the platform."
"I suppose you didn't," Malfoy said with a smirk. "Too busy preening for the cameras, eh?"
Ron offered him a sheepish smile and shrugged. "I thought you were going to Drumstrang."
"I was, but mother just couldn't stand the thought of me being so far away," Malfoy said with another roll of his eyes. "The reason I was looking for you was because I overheard my father talking earlier today. He said he should have another shipment ready for your father's factory within a week."
"That's great!" Ron exclaimed. "Dad really wants to get the new models out before Christmas."
The two of them went on for a couple of minutes talking about their respective father's work. From the way they spoke they sounded as if they were the ones conducting business. Eventually, Draco's eyes ended up on Harry.
"That's Harry, Harry Potter," Ron said before Harry even had the chance to speak. Harry extended his hand to Draco, but he was already focused on the compartment's other passenger. Following his gaze to the window where Hermione sat, Ron said, "Don't worry about her."
"She's a muggleborn, isn't she?" Draco asked disdainfully.
"Yeah."
"Don't talk about me like I'm not here!" Hermione seethed, turning away from the window for the first time since she and Ron had last exchanged words.
Draco sneered at her but spared her no further words, instead he focused on Ron.
"You two shouldn't have to sit with her, why don't you come over to my compartment?"
Ron looked down to Harry to see if he agreed. Suddenly put on the spot, Harry looked away from Ron and found that Hermione was looking at him as well. When Harry didn't give an answer, she let out a disgusted groan. She stood up and pushed her way past Draco and Ron and left the compartment.
"Mudbloods," Draco muttered disdainfully.
Harry thought about bringing up the fact that his mother was a muggleborn, but Ron seemed to like Draco and Harry liked Ron and he didn't want to upset Ron by upsetting Draco, so he kept quiet.
"Ah, another girl sent running at the sight of our dear brother."
"Such a sad sight. I fear Ronnekins will never develop our womanizing ways."
At the sound of the two very similar voices, Ron groaned and Draco got noticeably paler.
Two new people appeared in the doorway to their compartment. They were both built short and stocky, and they had red hair and freckles similar to Ron's.
"Didn't mum tell the two of you not to mess with me?" Ron asked the two identical boys.
"She did indeed," one of the boys said.
"Funny thing about that is, mum's not here," the other one added.
"If you try to prank me I'm going to write her a letter and she'll send you a howler!" Ron said.
"Oh please," One of the twins said with a wave of his hand.
"Howlers from mum are a weekly occurrence for us. You think we care?"
Ron let out a defeated sigh and plopped down in his seat next to Harry. Lucky for him, the twins had set their eyes on Draco.
"Oh, Draco, didn't see you there!" one of the twins exclaimed.
Draco took a cautionary step away from the twins and his two bodyguards stepped together to form a solid wall of meat in front of him.
The two twins turned to each other. "I think he's still afraid of us, George," one said.
"Still?" George asked. "How many times do we have to explain that we didn't mean to dye his hair green."
"You did it on purpose!" Draco said. "I saw you do it!"
"Well, we meant to dye your hair, obviously, but we didn't mean for it be green," The unnamed twin said.
"Yeah, we wanted it be orange. You know, make you apart of the family," George said with a wild grin. "In fact, maybe we should try again."
Draco's eyes went wide as the twins pulled out their wands. He pushed his two bodyguards aside and rushed past the twins and out of the compartment. His bewildered bodyguards bumbled along after him. With Draco gone, the twins sat down across from Ron and Harry.
"Why do you guys have to be so mean to him?" Ron asked.
"Cause he's a prat," George said. He reached over and grabbed a chocolate frog out of Harry and Ron's pile of snacks.
"Plus, like you said, mum said we can't prank you," The other twin said. "We've got to expend our creative urges somewhere."
"Anyways, aren't you going to introduce us to your new friend?" George asked around a mouthful of chocolate frog.
"His name's Harry Potter," Ron said. "And these two are Fred and George. Don't bother trying to figure out which is which, they constantly switch just to confuse people. Mum's the only one who can really tell them apart."
"Potter, eh?" Fred said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I say, George, wasn't there a lad asking around about some Harry Potter?"
"Really?" Harry asked, wondering why anyone would be looking for him.
"Are you sure it was Harry Potter he was looking for?" George asked. "I could have sworn he was looking for Harvey Trotter."
"No, no, it was definitely Harry Potter," Fred said, and Harry got the impression the two of them were playing a game. "What I can't remember is the young lad's name. Longfelllow? Longtrousers?"
"Longbottom?" Harry asked. "As in Neville Longbottom?"
Fred shook his head and gave Harry an incredulous look, "Now that's just ridiculous, what kind of name is Longbottom?"
"Wait," Ron said, turning to Harry, "Do you know Neville Longbottom?"
"Yeah, he's kind of my friend."
"The Neville Longbottom?" Ron asked, "As in, the son of Frank and Alice Longbottom, the highest ranking Knights in the Empire?"
"Er, yeah."
"How did you meet him?" Ron asked, eyes wide with amazement.
"Dumbledore invited him to my birthday party last year, ever since then we've-"
"Dumbledore?" Ron questioned disbelievingly, "Dumbledore invited him to your birthday party?"
"Yeah, Dumbledore lives in the same village as I do, so I see him a lot. Sometimes he'll come over for dinner or invite our family over for dinner at his house. He couldn't come to my birthday party last year so he sent the Longbottom family instead."
"You...know Dumbledore?" Ron asked.
"This conversation is getting redundant, little brother," Fred interjected.
"I say, I've grown bored of his company," George added.
"He's not even paying attention to us anymore," Fred said, "What say we make our leave?"
"Let's."
The twins stood and left, leaving Harry and the stunned Ron alone. A silence followed their departure and Harry desperately tried to think of something to say so Ron would stop staring at him like he was a famous Quidditch star.
"You have to tell me about him," Ron blurted.
"Er-what?"
"Dumbledore. What's he like? Is he scary to be around?"
Harry laughed at the thought. Ron looked confused.
"No, he's not scary at all. He's actually really nice, and kind of weird."
"Weird?"
"Yeah, like funny," Harry said, "It's kind of hard to explain. Dumbledore is...very unique." That was really an understatement, but Harry couldn't think of a better way to describe the old wizard.
"Wow, I wish I could meet him," Ron said. "Fred and George say he gives a speech at the Hogwarts Welcoming Feast, but I think they might be lying. They also told me that to get sorted into a house you have to wrestle a troll."
"I hope that's not true. My dad said to get into Gryffyndor house you have to duel to the death, but he likes to joke around a lot."
"My whole family's been Gryffyndor, so I don't think that's true," Ron said with a thoughtful look on his face, "If it were I don't think Percy would still be alive today."
"Percy?" Harry asked, "Is that another one of your brothers?"
Ron nodded, "Oh yeah, I've got loads of brothers. You've already met Fred and George. I'm sure you'll meet Percy later, he's a Prefect. Then there's Bill and Charlie, but they're both out of school already. Bill was Head Boy in his day, and Charlie was Quidditch Captain. Bill went on to work at dad's company and Charlie buggered off to study dragon's or something. Then there's Ginny, she's my younger sister. She's also really annoying."
"One brother was Qudditch Captain and the other was Head Boy?" Harry asked. "Guess that means you've got a lot to live up to."
Ron shrugged, "Never really thought about it that way."
The door to their compartment opened again and this time Harry recognized the person who walked through. Round-faced and slightly red in the cheeks, Neville Longbottom grinned at him.
"Harry!" he said, "I've been looking all over for you," he paused, "Well, actually I was looking for you, and then I lost Trevor so I was looking for him. Then I found Trevor and I started looking for you again."
Harry smiled. "It's good to see you, Neville. Were your parents able to make it?"
Neville's face fell. "No," he said. He moved further into the compartment and took the seat across from Harry, "They had business to attend to, so Uncle Algie and Gran brought me."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Harry said. He knew that Neville's parents were away a lot due to their work for the Empire.
"It's alright!" Neville said, brightening up, "Uncle Algie got me a pet!" He reached into the pockets of his robes and pulled out a slimy green toad, "Meet Trevor!"
Trevor let out a loud croak.
Harry tried to seem impressed. "That's uh, really cool. My mum wouldn't let me have a pet. Said I didn't need one."
"Does he...do anything?" Ron asked, casting a disgusted look at Trevor.
Neville turned to Ron in surprise, as if noticing him for the first time, "Blimey! You're Ron Weasley!"
Ron flashed a indulgent smile, "Yeah, I am."
"Wow," Neville said in awe, "I read about your family in the Prophet all the time! Is it true your brother Bill is dating Gwenog Jones?"
"Probably," Ron said with a shrug, "He's got a new girlfriend every week."
"He's so cool. It must be great to have an older brother like him."
"Sure..." Ron said slowly. His eyes trailed down from Neville's wistful face to his open palm, "What happened to your toad?"
Neville's eyes went wide as he realized he wasn't holding Trevor anymore.
"He was just here!" he said. He threw himself to the ground and frantically searched for his pet, "Trevor! Trevor!" he called, though Harry couldn't imagine the wayward toad ever responding, "Where could he have gotten off to? Can you guys help me look for him?"
Harry looked to Ron who made a face that said he certainly was not about to start crawling on the ground looking for a slimy green toad. So, Harry got on his knees and tried to help Neville find his pet. He felt incredibly silly and he hoped that no one would open their compartment door and find him on the floor shouting the name of a toad. Of course, the door did open, but luckily it was the same old witch who had been pushing around the snack cart earlier. She cast an appraising gaze at the two boys on the floor, but said nothing. She had probably seen much worse on the Hogwarts Express before.
"We're just about to pull into Hogsmeade Station, dearies," she said sweetly, "So make sure you're ready."
"I've lost my pet toad!" Neville said , his eyes watering and his voice cracking. Harry felt truly bad for Neville, less because he had lost his toad and more because he was on his knees on the verge of crying in front of a complete stranger.
The old woman gave him a sympathetic smile, "Don't worry, deary, I'm sure he'll turn up soon. Why, I think I've found him already."
Indeed, standing just at the woman's feet was Trevor the toad, leaving Harry to wonder how he had gotten there without any of them noticing.
"Trevor!"
The toad seemed to take a long look at Neville. Then, he let loose a loud croak and hopped out the open door way.
"Wait!" Neville pushed himself to his feet and chased the toad out of the compartment and throughout the train.
The old woman watched as Neville chased the toad then turned back to Harry and Ron to offer them a kind smile before she shut the door to their compartment again.
"He's not really what I expected," Ron said as Harry got off the floor and sat back down.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
"You know, him being the son of the two most famous Knights in the Empire. I just expected him to be...cool."
Harry tried to think of a way to defend his friend, but he came to the conclusion that Ron was right. Neville wasn't very cool.
Just as the old lady had said, the train came to a stop. Harry and Ron exited their compartment and made for the nearest exit. Despite the large number of students all trying to exit the train at once, Harry and Ron had an easy go of it as many students stepped aside as Ron approached, pointing and whispering all the while. Harry thought all of the extra attention would be annoying, but Ron didn't mind. In fact, he smiled and winked at everyone as he passed.
As soon as they got off the train and onto the platform, they heard the sickly call of "First years over here!"
The man shouting was short and middle aged. He had a heavily wrinkled face and a head of thinning black hair and a thin mustache. He held a lamp over his head as he continued to call for the first years to gather around him.
"That's Macnair," Ron whispered as they made their way through the crowds towards the man, "Fred and George say he's a right prat, and that he hates first years."
"So, why is he calling us all together?"
"He's supposed to take us across the lake so we can get to Hogwarts," Ron said, "Fred and George told me that if you so much as say one word during the ride he'll toss you overboard and let the giant squid have at you."
Harry gulped. "There's a giant squid in the lake?"
"He's supposed to be quite vicious too."
"All right you lot, gather 'round!" Macnair said, his voice practically oozing, "I ain't got all day! Is that all the first years? Anymore first years?"
"Wait for me!" came a cry.
Harry turned around to see Neville running towards the group of first years, Trevor securely gripped in his hands. A chorus of giggles echoed through the group and Neville's cheeks reddened.
"Right then," Macnair said, leveling a nasty look in Neville's direction, "Follow me, and keep up!"
He led them down and away from the train platform along a dirt road that traveled way from Hogsmeade Village and towards the edge of a forest.
"He's not taking us into the Forbidden Forest, is he?" Neville whispered, his voice shaking.
"Of course not," Ron said with exasperation, "He's taking us down to the lake."
They stumbled down the path, surrounded by darkness on all sides. They rounded a bend and came upon a placid black lake. On the other side of the lake, perched on a hill, stood a vast castle. A ripple of excitement ran through the first years.
"Shut it!" Macnair barked. He led them further down the path to the edge of the lake where a small dock was situated. "Four to a boat! And not a peep out you!"
Harry followed Ron, who found an empty boat at the front of the fleet and carefully took a seat. Harry lowered himself into the boat as well, quite uneasy with how much it rocked from side to side. Neville followed him, and a girl Harry didn't know also joined them. Macnair, who had a boat all to himself at the head of the group, watched over them with what seemed to be a permanent glare. Once everyone had clambered into boats he began barking orders again.
"Keep your hands in the boat! And not a word out of any of your mouths!" with that said he paused, then he did something that terrified Harry more than his dour demeanor ever could. He smiled. His face wrinkled in an unfamiliar way and his crooked teeth shone in the moonlight. "There's nasty things in this here lake. You make one mistake and you'll be meetin' 'em right quick."
He took a minute to soak in all the fear that suddenly permeated the small dock before turning and shouting "FORWARD". The boats began to glide across the lake of their own accord. Macnair's promise of nasty lake monsters kept all of the first years quiet as the castle towered above them. They sailed into a dark tunnel that took them directly underneath the castle and came to a stop at small a harbor.
The first years clambered out of the boats onto a smooth stone surface. Still, no one dared to speak a word, but their good performance didn't seem to impress Macnair.
"Alright, line up! Look orderly!" he barked, "One toe out of line and I'll send you right back into the lake!"
"That will be enough, Mr. Macnair," Came a smooth, quiet voice. Harry turned to face the man who had spoken, and found him no more appealing than Macnair. He had sallow skin and a large hooked nose. His black hair was long and had a greasy slick to it. He had an ever present sneer on his face worse than Macnair's.
"Of course, Professor Snape," Macnair said with a small bow of his head, sounding like a decent human being for the first time that night even if he still didn't look like one. He turned and gave the first year's one last glare before he slipped away into the shadows, hopefully to never be seen again.
"I am Professor Severus Snape, Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts," Snape said with a look that made it clear that he demanded respect. He paused for a moment and cast an appraising look over all of them. "Follow me."
Harry could instantly tell that Snape was entirely different from Macnair. Snape didn't need to bark out orders, his very presence demanded their silence and the look on his face promised more than just a dip in the lake if they displeased him. So, they all remained silent as he led them out of the small harbor and out onto the damp grass of Hogwart's front lawn. They followed him up a small side path that led to the large oak doors that served as the entrance to the great castle.
A casual wave of Snape's hand caused the doors to slowly creak open and they followed him into an expansive entrance hall. The ceiling of the hall was high enough to accommodate a giant and the walls were covered in candles that kept the hall alight. A constant hum of voices echoed throughout the hall, but they came from behind a set of doors to the right. Snape approached those doors, but turned and faced the first years before opening them.
"You will stay in a straight and orderly line," Snape said softly, "You will not speak a word until you have been sorted and seated at your House's table. Any attempt to cause trouble will be met with a swift expulsion. Am I understood?"
"Yes, Professor," the first years chorused. Snape cast his appraising gaze on all of them, scanning each of their faces for any hint of discontent. As his dark eyes passed over Harry, they lingered for just a moment, and in that moment his permanent glare transformed into a look of pure loathing. It happened so quickly Harry wasn't even sure he saw it, before he could question it Snape had already turned away and with another wave on his hand the doors opened.
The dim roar of conversation died out as the first years were marched into the Great Hall. Hundreds of floating candles lit the hall. There were four long tables were the students sat, each with banners of it's corresponding houses colors flown above it. At the head of the Hall was another long table, this one seating the professors of Hogwarts. Harry recognized his Uncle Moony sitting at the High Table but was surprised at the presence of another man he recognized.
"Dumbledore!" Harry whispered excitedly as he met the eyes of the man from across the large hall and received a wink in greeting.
"I guess Fred and George weren't lying," Ron whispered to Harry, clearly just as in awe at the man's presence.
Sitting next to Dumbledore was a man who took Harry's breath away. He had never had the displeasure of meeting a dementor, but from pictures he had seen this man looked exactly like one. He was clothed from head to toe in pitch black robes that seemed to absorb all the light around him. His hands, which sported abnormally long fingers, were covered in black gloves. The man's face was covered by a stark white mask. The mask was entirely featureless; no eye holes, no mouth slot.
"Headmaster Riddle," Ron whispered, following Harry's gaze, "They say he wears all that clothing because he was horribly disfigured by some muggles back in his days at the MRS."
Harry made to ask how the Headmaster could see through his mask, but was distracted by action at the front of the line. Professor Snape had pulled up an ordinary three-legged stool and sat upon it a tattered old hat.
"What's he doing?" Harry asked Ron. The other boy could only shrug in response.
Without any explanation whatsoever, Snape reached into his robes and pulled out a roll of parchment. He unrolled the paper slowly and looked over its contents.
"Abbott, Hannah," he called out, his voice echoing through the Great Hall. Nothing happened. "Abbott, Hannah," He called again, this time with a distinct edge to his voice.
A girl with blond pigtails suddenly jumped out of line and quickly shuffled up to where Professor Snape stood. Snape gave her a look of disdain but didn't say anything. He removed the hat from the stool and pointed a bony finger at it. Hannah clambered onto the stool and sat facing the rest of the students, a notable redness to her cheeks. Professor Snape dropped the hat on her head and it fell over her eyes. The entire hall watched in silence for minute until the brim of the hat split open and it shouted "HUFFLEPUFF".
Cheers and applause exploded from one of the long four tables. Hannah pulled the hat from her head and placed it back on the stool. With a grateful smile she walked over to the Hufflepuff's table and took a seat.
"That's it?" Harry said in stunned awe, "We just have to wear a hat?"
He was actually disappointed. No trolls, no duels to the death; just a tattered old hat. Ron ran a hand through his hair and cast an aggravated look towards his brothers at Gryffindor table.
Susan Bones was called up next and was sorted into Hufflepuff. Terry Boot followed after her and was sorted into Ravenclaw. Eventually, Hermione Granger was sorted into Gryffindor after spending a lengthy amount of time with the hat on her head. Neville had a strange look of discomfort on his face as he sat under the hat but before long he was sorted into Gryffindor. The hat barely touched Dracon Malfoy's head before he was sorted into Sylnterin. Eventually, Sally-Ann Perks was sorted into Gryffindor and it was Harry's turn.
"Potter...Harry." Snape intoned, notably hesitating after Harry's last name.
Harry stepped out of line and made his way towards the stool as quickly as he could without flat out running. As he got closer to the High Table, he received a wink from Dumbledore and an encouraging smile from Moony. He hoisted himself up onto the stool and Snape put the hat on his head more forcefully than he had the others.
"Hmmm. Quite an interesting one you are, boy," a voice whispered right behind his ears. The voice sounded incredibly bored.
"Interesting?" Harry asked, keeping his voice down so it wouldn't echo throughout the hall. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"A good question," the hat said, "I suppose it depends on the perspective of it all. There was a time when being interesting or unique was a desirable trait, but these days it seems the less you stand out the better. Though I'm sure you know all about that."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I guess you don't know then," the hat said, a hint of teasing to it's otherwise dull voice, "Now let's see what House you're suited for, hmm? Not a bad mind at all, and there's definitely plenty of loyalty to go around. I think you would fit right in as a Hufflepuff."
"What about Gryffindor?" Harry asked.
"Gryffindor, eh?" said the hat appraisingly, "You've got the potential to be a great Gryffindor, perhaps one of the best, but I don't know that you've got the will to reach that potential."
"I do," Harry said. He sounded desperate, but he didn't care. "I promise I do."
"Well, if that's the case then I guess I've got no other choice than to put you in GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry pulled the hat off his head quickly, almost afraid that it would change it's mind. He was met with a polite amount of cheering and applause. With a smile he made his way to the table under the red and gold banners and found a seat next to Neville.
Eventually, Ron's name was called and whispering broke out all over the Great Hall. Harry noticed that most of the whispering came from younger girls. For his part, Ron strode up to the hat with his head held high and his chest poked out. Snape gave the redhead a disapproving look, but Ron didn't notice as he sat on the stool and gave the entire Great Hall his best smile. The hat slid down Ron's head and after a few seconds it belted out "GRYFFINDOR".
Loud cheers went up from Gryffindor table as Ron strode over, none louder than Ron's brothers Fred and George.
"We're so proud of you, little brother!" one twin proclaimed in a high pitched voice.
"The Prince of Gryffindor has arrived!" the other twin shouted.
The effusive praise coming from his brothers made Ron go red in the cheeks and cost him quite a bit of his swagger. He made his way to the table and sat next to Neville and Harry. The cheers died down, but Fred and George continued to lavish him with praise. Ron buried his face in his hands and finally a very loud clearing of Snape's throat silenced the twins.
The rest of the sorting went off without a hitch and ended when "Zabini, Blaise" was sorted into Slytherin. When the last of the applause died down and the sorting hat was taken away by Professor Snape, Headmaster Riddle stood at the High Table.
"Welcome," he said. His voice was raspy, but otherwise clear despite the mask obscuring his face. "Welcome to another year at glorious Hogwarts. To those of you who don't know me, I am Headmaster Riddle. As always, we have been privileged enough to be in the company of Chancellor Dumbledore, who I believe has some words for our new students."
Dumbledore smiled and stood up. "As I'm sure you are all eager to fill your bellies, I will try to be brief," he said, the twinkle in his blue eyes visible to all in the Great Hall, "Though I'm sure your parents have already filled your head with all sorts of wisdom, I'd like to ask you to make room in your brains for one last piece of advice. That advice is that you be good to one another for there is nothing more important in this world than the unity of wizards," he paused and swept his eyes over the Great Hall; the mostly confused faces he saw did nothing to deter his smile, "That is all. You may tuck in."
Harry pulled his eyes away from Dumbledore as a myriad of food appeared on the plates before him. The clattering of silverware and plates consumed the Great Hall as everyone began to pile the food onto their own plates. Harry, however, was too busy focusing on what Dumbledore had said to bother grabbing any food.
"What do you suppose he meant by all that?" he asked, turning to Ron, who had already amassed a virtual mountain of food in front of him and was busy chewing on a turkey leg.
"Mmphm?" the redhead said around his mouth of food when he realized Harry was talking to him.
"Nothing," Harry said and turned to Neville who seemed to be just as equally disinterested in Dumbledore's speech.
"Dumbledore always says something like that at the Welcoming Feast," said George, who was sitting across from Harry.
"Always something about the greater good or unity among wizards," Fred said.
"After a while everyone just stops listening to him."
Harry looked to the staff table, where Dumbledore had taken his seat and engaged in a conversation with Headmaster Riddle. Deciding to leave Dumbledore's words alone for now, Harry dug into the feast.
As the clink of utensils against plates died down and many students pushed their leftover food away, Headmaster Riddle stood and delivered a few obligatory announcements. The Forbidden Forest was still forbidden and caretaker Argus Filch had added a few items to the banned list. Once the feast was formally over, Ron's older brother Percy gathered up the Gryffindor first years and lead them out of the Great Hall. Harry tried to memorize the route they took to get to Gryffindor Tower, but Percy led them up and down so many sets of stairs, and a couple of times they even went through a tapestry hanging on the wall. The halls of the castle defied common sense and Harry wasn't sure how he was going to make it down to the Great Hall for breakfast in the morning.
It was just as Percy was leading them through another tapestry on the fifth floor that Harry caught a glimpse of Dumbledore walking further down the hall. He only saw the man for a second before he rounded a corner and was gone. Common sense told Harry that he should leave Dumbledore alone and continue following his group, but just like his father Harry had developed a penchant for ignoring his common sense. He slowed down enough to allow the rest of the first years to pass him by. Ron had been abducted by a couple of girls and Neville had lost Trevor again and was pleading with Percy to let him go back to the Great Hall to find him; unknowingly distracting the Prefect as Harry slipped to the back of the group and headed off down the hallway in search of Dumbledore.
Harry rounded the corner just in time to see Dumbledore further down the hall trotting up a set of stairs. He made after him at a light jog, not daring to call out his name in fear of drawing unwanted attention. He reached the stairway and made his way up it tentatively as Percy had earlier explained that some of steps were jinxed. When he finally reached the top of the stairs he was on the sixth floor and there was no sign of Dumbledore.
After a quick, panicked search Harry noticed that a tapestry further down the sixth floor corridor had been pulled open and wasn't closed all the way. Taking it as a sign he ran to the open tapestry and found a narrow stone staircase behind it. He jogged up this staircase, more worried about losing Dumbledore than stepping on a jinxed step. When he got to the top of the staircase he found himself alone on the seventh floor corridor. This time there was no open tapestry to guide him. He began to panic and frantically looked around the corridor.
"Lord Dumbledore, sir," he called out. He tried to keep his voice quiet, but it echoed against the stone walls of the castle anyway. Suddenly, he heard footsteps.
"Yes, I heard it too, Mrs. Norris," came a voice from further down the corridor that did not belong to Dumbledore.
Harry turned around, intent on going back through the tapestry. His heart sank when he was met with nothing but blank stone wall. The tapestry had disappeared! He searched the hall frantically and found another tapestry further down. He ran to it and tried to pull it open, but to his dismay it turned out to be just an ordinary tapestry that depicted a man trying to teach trolls ballet.
"I see you down there, boy!" came a shout from further down the corridor, "Don't try to run!"
Another trait Harry had inherited from his father was the tendency to not listen to authority figures, so he ran. He belted down the corridor and turned a corner. He continued running down this new corridor towards a set of stairs. Just as he thought that maybe he would be able to get away something furry tangled itself between his legs and he fell to the ground. He tried to pick himself up and make another run for it, but a set of heavy footsteps told him his pursuer had already caught up to him.
"Thought you could get away, did you boy?" his pursuer said between wheezing breaths. He bent over and put his hands on his knees, but never took his eyes off Harry. "Good job, Mrs. Norris."
Before Harry could ask who Mrs. Norris was, a meow came from his feet. Looking down, he saw that the furry thing that had gotten tangled between his legs and tripped him had been a cat. The cat hissed at him and then trotted to her master and rubbed against his leg.
The man, having caught his breath, strode over to Harry with a disturbing grin and pulled him from the ground by the front of his robes.
"Headmaster Riddle will have you expelled for this boy," he said with a sick sort of glee, "Out causing trouble on the first night of term? I'd say you'll set a new record for expulsion."
"I wasn't trying to cause trouble, I promise," Harry said.
"I'll have none of your lies," the man said, "You can plead your case to the Headmaster, though I doubt he'll want to hear it."
"I don't think that will be necessary, Mr. Filch," came a voice that alleviated all of Harry's fear.
"Chancellor Dumbledore!" Filch said, turning to Dumbledore and bowing to him, "I didn't know you were still in the castle, sir."
"I had some last minute business to attend to," Dumbledore said, "Now, I shall escort young Mr. Potter here back to his dormitories."
"But, Headmaster Riddle-"
"Is far too busy to concern himself with a student who got lost on the way to his dormitories." Dumbledore said with a commanding tone, "So, if you'll please excuse us."
"Of course, sir," Filch said with another bow. He cast a hateful look towards Harry and shuffled off with Mrs. Norris in tow. Harry and Dumbledore walked in the opposite direction, towards Gryffindor tower.
"Thank you so much, sir," Harry said as soon as Filch was out of sight.
"Think nothing of it, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said with a genial smile, "Though I know a tendency towards rule breaking runs in your family, know that I won't always be here to help you."
"I wasn't trying to cause trouble, I swear," Harry said, "I just...I followed you because...well, I'm not sure why. I guess I just wanted to talk."
"Understandable," Dumbledore said with a nod, "It has been sometime since we've talked. I suppose it's my fault."
"It's not your fault. I know you're busy."
"Indeed I am, but know that no matter how busy I am you can always contact me if you feel the need to talk about anything. Just send me a letter."
"That's good to know, sir," Harry said with a smile.
"I'm sure your parents will be happy when you tell them you were sorted into Gryffindor."
"My dad said I couldn't come home unless I was sorted into Gryffindor."
Dumbledore chuckled. "He was joking, I'm sure."
"He's always joking." Harry said with a roll of his eyes.
"It's a pity they couldn't be here to see you get sorted," Dumbledore said, "I've always thought if there was a flaw in Hogwarts tradition it is that parents can't attend the sorting ceremony."
"Do you really come to the Welcoming Feast every year?" Harry asked.
"Indeed, though it's not quite the spectacle it used to be. The Sorting Hat used to sing, you know."
"Really? Why did it stop?"
Dumbledore shrugged, "I suppose it got tired of having to think up a new song every year."
Harry giggled, for some reason finding the idea of a singing hat that got tired of singing ridiculous.
They walked the rest of the way in silence. Eventually, they arrived at a portrait of a fat woman.
"This is the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, if memory serves," Dumbledore said. He smiled at the woman in the portrait, "Hello, dear."
The woman scrutinized Dumbledore before finally saying, "Oh, it's you."
"I don't suppose you would let my young friend into the common room without the password?"
The fat lady turned her scrutinizing gaze to Harry. "I guess it won't hurt this once," she said slowly, "Though he really ought to be made to sleep in the halls for breaking off from his group."
With that said she swung open to reveal a round hole in the wall.
"In you go," Dumbledore said. Harry climbed through the hole and on the other side was the Gryffindor Common Room. He turned back to the entrance and waved to Dumbledore.
"Good night, sir."
"Good night, Harry."
And the portrait swung closed.
"Harry! Wake up, mate!"
Harry opened his eyes only to be met with piercing sunlight. He blinked and let his eyes adjust until he could make out the blurry image of Ron's freckled face.
"Morning, Ron," he greeted, pushing himself up and reaching for his glasses on the nightstand.
"Where'd you get off to last night?" Ron asked, "Even Fred and George didn't sneak out on their first night in the castle."
"I wanted to talk to Dumbledore," Harry said, "So I broke away from the group to find him. Got lost, nearly got expelled."
"Dumbledore!" one of the other boys in the dorm exclaimed with an Irish accent, "Do you really know him?"
"Er-Yeah, we live in the same village. He's kind of a friend of my family."
The boy let out a low whistle. "Well ain't that something? I'm Seamus Finnegan, by the way. I see you already know Ron. That there is Dean."
"Dean Thomas," the tall black boy said with a wave.
"Aye. And that one's name is-"
"Neville," Harry finished, turning to the boy who sat on the edge of his bed looking depressed. "What's wrong?"
"I lost Trevor again," he said, his voice monotone.
"Who's Trevor?" Seamus asked.
"His toad," Ron said with a roll of his eyes.
"I'm sure he'll turn up just like last time," Harry said with a smile, "He's probably waiting for you down in the Great Hall."
Neville smiled a bit, "I suppose you're right," he said, though he didn't sound very convinced. He got off his bed and began to get dressed. Harry did the same. The boys were all dressed in a matter of minutes and they headed down to the Common Room and out the portrait hole. Seamus led the way to the Great Hall, but they got lost and had to be pointed in the right direction by one of Hogwarts' resident ghosts. When they finally made it to the Great Hall, it was much too busy to search for Neville's wayward toad. Harry once again tried to reassure Neville that Trevor would show up eventually as the boys settled in at the Gryffindor table and ate. The morning mail was delivered as a flurry of owls flew in through the windows of the Great Hall. With the mail came a letter from Harry's mother.
"A letter from your mam already?" Seamus asked with a grin, "Must've gotten into some trouble last night, eh?"
"No," Harry said with a frown as he read through the letter, "She's just...checking up on me."
Ron snorted. "Checking up on you? It was your first night in the castle, what's the worst that could have happened?"
The other boys chuckled.
"Well, he did almost get expelled," Dean said.
Harry blushed. "I don't think I'm going to tell her about that."
The boys laughed more, even Neville.
"Hey Ronniekins, check this out!" George Weasley said as he muscled his way into a seat between Seamus and Dean. Harry found himself being pushed aside as Fred took a seat next to his brother. George laid out an edition of the Daily Prophet right over Ron's plate. Harry leaned over to see what George was referring to and saw an article in the paper titled "Youngest Weasley Son Makes Trip to Hogwarts". Just as Harry was about to express amazement that Ron had gotten his own article in the paper, Fred spoke.
"Didn't even make the front page, Ronniekins," he said in a disappointed tone.
"Bill made the first page," George said.
"And Charlie."
"And Percy."
"You two didn't make the front page," Ron said.
"We would have," George said.
"If we hadn't put Everlasting Itching Powder in the reporter's pants," Fred continued.
George nodded. "The media doesn't like us very much. I don't think they understand us."
"But you, little brother, they've no reason to dislike you."
"Maybe six Weasley boys is just too much for the media to handle?" George mused.
Ron frowned, grabbed the paper and flipped to the front page. What he saw made him smile.
"Here's why I'm not on the front page," he said, triumph evident in his voice, "The Ministry was attacked last night. They're practically forced to run that on the front page!"
Fred and George shared a look that said they knew the joke had run its course.
"If you say so, little brother," Fred said, "But if you ask us this is troubling news."
"Very troubling indeed," George said.
Ron didn't react, instead he focused on the article on the front page of the Prophet. With their joke over, Fred and George left and Harry was able to retake his seat. He leaned over and peered at the paper Ron was reading. Indeed, the headline on the front page read "British Ministry Attacked".
"What's it say?" Harry asked.
Ron folded the paper up and tossed it over his shoulder. "Says a bunch of upstart muggles tried to attack the Ministry building last night," he said, "Doesn't really sound very important, if you ask me."
"Why would muggles want to attack the Ministry building?" Neville asked.
"Because they're muggles," Ron said as if it were obvious.
Harry's first week at Hogwarts passed quickly. Classes started off as new and exciting but it didn't take him long to figure out that magical classes were quite similar to the non-magical classes he had taken with his mother, that is they involved a lot of work; something he wasn't very fond of.
Transfiguration was taught by Professor McGonagall, the Gryffindor head of house. Any thoughts he had entertained of her showing he and his classmates favor for being their head of house went out the window when she docked he and Ron points for being late to class on the first day (they had gotten lost and Peeves the Poltergeist had given them directions that took them to the other side of the castle). She was a very stern witch and wasn't against giving out long homework assignments.
Charms with Professor Flitwick was a bit more fun. Flitwick was a tiny old wizard who bubbled with energy and enthusiasm. His was a very practical class, often starting with him introducing them to a new charm which they would then practice for the rest of the class period. Unfortunately, even bubbly Professor Flitwick gave out long homework assignments regularly.
The Defense class was a welcome relief from the norm. Professor Lupin (it was hard for Harry not to think of him as Uncle Moony) told them from day one of class that they wouldn't be using their books. His first class period he admitted to the entire class that he was a werewolf, and then went on to give a lecture on werewolves. Despite Professor Lupin's obvious hesitancy to admit his condition to the class, most of Harry's classmates didn't think any less of him. It was a tenant of the Empire that all wizards were equal, even if they were a werewolf, vampire or muggleborn.
By far Harry's most interesting class in his first week was Dark Arts class. It was taught by an old German man named Professor Rätsel. Rätsel's head was bald, but he had a thick gray goatee and bushy eyebrows. He had a very harsh looking face, as if he had been born scowling and had never stopped. As the children filed into class that day he watched them with cold black eyes. Once they had all found seats, he began to speak.
"Magic," he said with a light accent, "Is change. When we wave our wands and say our incantations, we are forcing our very will on the fabric of existence and changing it. We defy gravity. We turn one thing into another. Change," he paused and stood up from behind his desk. With a noticeable limp he walked around the classroom and continued speaking, "No branch of magic represents this concept better than the Dark Arts. For what greater change is there than to suddenly stamp out a life? To force your will on another's mind and make them act according to your wishes? The Dark Arts themselves are constantly changing, and if you wish to master them you will have to change as well."
He came to a stop at the front of the class and faced them all with his hands held behind his back.
"Some of you will not like this class. Despite your preconceived notions of intelligence, some of you will fail this class. Unfortunately for those of you, that is just how the Dark Arts work. You can't learn them from a book and no matter how much you practice you can't get better at them unless you have what it takes to change yourself. Understood?"
The class remained silent, even Hermione Granger who had proven to be a know-it-all throughout their first couple of classes together.
"Of course you don't understand. You may not understand even once you graduate, but it is my job to at least try to teach you. Any questions?"
Hermione's hand went up.
"No? Then let's begin."
And then Rätsel introduced them to the Dark Arts. He showed to them the 'Unforgivable' curses and a dozen other spells designed to inflict pain and destruction. Some students left the class looking pale and frightened. Others were giddy at the prospect of learning the Dark Arts. Harry couldn't help but be excited. The Dark Arts were obviously powerful, and he couldn't think of any reason why he should fear them. To him it was just another class.
The rest of Harry's week was mostly uninteresting. Astronomy class took place Wednesday at midnight and while Harry wasn't sure how Astronomy related to magic he found the class rather easy so he didn't complain. They met at the greenhouses for Herbology three times a week. Neville seemed to enjoy that class the most and Harry and Ron mostly just followed his example since he seemed to know what he was doing. History of Magic was taught by an incredibly old man named Elphias Dodge, who was perhaps a bigger fan of Dumbledore than Harry.
Eventually it came to be that the week was almost over and the only class Harry had left was a double period of Potions on Friday afternoon.
"Fred and George say Professor Snape is the meanest professor in the whole school," Ron said as they made their way down to the dungeons, "They said he'll dock you fifty house points just for sneezing while he's talking."
"I don't think I'm going to trust anything your brothers say ever again," Harry said.
"That's the thing about them though; between all the lies they sometimes tell the truth so you never know what to expect."
"Well, I don't think it's possible for him to be any worse than McGonagall," Harry said with a shrug, "Plus, I think he's a friend of my mothers."
"First Lupin, now Snape?" Ron asked incredulously.
"I don't personally know him, but he did come to one of my mum's birthday parties a few years ago. He didn't stick around long though."
"Maybe he'll show you some favor?" Ron asked.
Snape didn't show Harry any favor, in fact he spent the entire period verbally abusing Harry. He would ask questions Harry didn't know the answer to, ignore anyone else who tried to answer the question and then he would dock house points when Harry didn't answer the question. By the time class was over Harry felt so humiliated that he just wanted to go back to his room, lay in bed and never get up.
Later that night before he went to bed he wrote a letter to his mother asking why Snape would be so mean to him. The letter he received the next morning was uncharacteristically brief:
Dear Harry,
It's probably best if you stay as far away from Professor Snape as possible.
Love,
Your Mother