Chapter Four.

Disclaimer: Some lines are taken from J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. No money is being made off those, or the world or characters which she created.

A/N: All hail Ebony Starstorm! Ebony has agreed to beta this fanfic and has already helped me rectify some rather clumsy errors.

Chapter 4

"He might have died, and you wouldn't know the difference. I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..."

Harry watched interestedly as Ron Weasley, a gangly boy with bright red hair, raised his wand to perform a spell on his pet rat. He had seldom seen wand magic, due to growing up under Nellie and Nicholas, who seemed to do everything the muggle way, and Archer, who didn't need one.

He hadn't had any trouble finding the platform. Hagrid hadn't told him that he was supposed to run into the divider between platforms nine and ten, but there was a chapter on the Hogwarts Express in his Nearly Complete Guide to the Wizarding World which helped him immensely.

Once on the train, he had found an empty compartment, and with the help of a sneaky weightless charm, had stored his gigantic suitcase away, glad he had an easier time than other students fighting a losing battle with their own luggage.

Harry had made sure to keep his scar hidden under his hair. He didn't want anyone befriending him based on his name. Shortly after the train started moving, Ron had barged in and settled down. Harry soon realized how fun it was to talk to someone his own age (after Ron had finally stopped saying "Blimey! You really are Harry Potter!").

After a while, however, the fun wore off. Ron was fanatical about Quidditch, and seemed to talk about nothing else. That was mostly okay with Harry, but Ron directed that fervor toward the Chudley Cannons, which made Harry question his sanity. Maybe he just enjoyed disappointment? Was Ron even aware that most people no longer bet on the results of matches the Cannons played?

"Harry, watch!" Ron had held his rat on his lap and raised his wand. Just then the compartment door slid open, revealing a round faced boy who looked very distressed, and a bushy haired girl with large front teeth.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one." She looked quite excited, as if this were some dangerous quest.

"Not unless it's an invisible toad." Harry replied. Neville shook his head. "It's not? Good!"

Now the girl was focused on Ron's raised wand. "Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then." She immediately sat down opposite Ron. Apparently she'd forgotten her quest.

"Er – All right." Ron was nervous now that he had a bigger audience. Stuttering slightly, he chanted as he waved his wand.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

Meanwhile, Harry decided to try and help, so he mumbled a wandless transfiguration spell that might do the trick. There was a flash of light and Scabbers the rat was now a deep shade of magenta! Harry scowled while Ron looked incredulously at his wand.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all. It was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard – I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough – I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?" She spoke at an incredible speed.

Before Ron could reply, Harry opened another chocolate frog out of the stash they had bought earlier. "Agrippa!" He said, surprised, and Ron jumped about a foot. As Harry leaned forward to show Ron, it slipped out of his hands through the open window.

"NO!" Ron shoved his head out the window. Then he ran out of the compartment, screaming, "I think it went back into the train further down!"

In the ensuing silence, Neville saw a large toad right outside the compartment, in the aisle. "Trevor!" He shouted, as Harry smiled. His Accio spell had worked well, at least.

"Won't you join me?" Harry asked. "I have more sweets than I know what to do with." Maybe these two thought about something other than Quidditch.

They readily agreed, and Harry started to relax. Neville and Hermione took the news relatively calmly that he was the boy-who-lived, then seemed to forget about it. As they talked, it was evident Hermione was incredibly smart, and Neville, though shy, was good company. But where had he heard of the Longbottoms from?

As the trio discussed what they thought Hogwarts would be like, the door slid open again. Harry had been expecting to see Ron, triumphantly holding up his card, but three different boys appeared instead. The middle one was very pale, with light blond hair. He was dwarfed by two big, mean boys on either side of him.

"Is it true?" the pale boy asked. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes." Harry replied. Somehow Ron had managed to gossip 'all down the train' while looking for his precious card. Oh well.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

"Do you practice that sneer, or is it just hereditary?" Harry asked. Archer had told Harry about the Malfoys. They were an Influential, Dark wizarding family, who were fabulously rich, and had connections to Voldemort. So he knew they were prideful, but when he saw Draco's face casually set in an expression of complete and utter contempt toward others, he was too curious not to ask.

"What?" Draco took a step forward, caught between angry and confused.

"Calm down, we can discuss this like civilized folk." Harry coughed, while saying "Colloportus!" The compartment door shut behind Draco, separating the boy from his minions.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself. You have a beautiful sneer!" Harry apologized as Draco tried to open the door. "To introduce ourselves properly, I am Harry James Potter, this is Neville Longbottom, and that's Hermione Granger. Have a chocolate frog." Harry didn't know why he wanted to talk to Draco, but ever since Archer had educated him about Purebloods, he had wanted a closer look at the species.

"Granger, hmm? I've never heard that name before." Draco looked suspiciously at Hermione, as if not knowing someone's surname was a very bad thing. Outside the compartment, Crabbe and Goyle continued to thump on the door.

"My mother and father are Muggles." Hermione said defiantly. Harry guessed that some of the books she had read had told her about bloodline prejudice. No wonder she was nervous about going to Hogwarts when her parentage seemingly already set her back!

Malfoy's sneer returned, but before he could say anything, Harry broke in.

"I'll have you know that Voldemort's father was a muggle. What's your basis for your prejudice if one of the most powerful Slytherin wizards ever was half-muggle?" Draco opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it again. Denying Harry's statement could be seen as defending the Dark Lord, which was a mistake in these peaceful times. Harry continued.

"Anyways, I'll bet you fifty galleons Hermione's exam results are better than yours!" Draco's eyes lit up. He could convince Harry Potter that purebloods were superior.

"Make it a hundred." Draco said confidently, shaking hands with Harry. The compartment door finally flew open, and Draco left, trailed by a baffled Crabbe and Goyle.

"Harry!" Hermione was almost in tears. "I hardly know anything about magic. I don't even know if I'll pass!"

"I'm sorry, but has Hogwarts, A History ever mentioned anyone failing first year?" Harry tried to reassure her. "I've only known you for a short time, but I'm convinced you'll get better grades than him, Crabbe and Goyle combined. That's not to say I'm using you to get money. You take the galleons won by beating him. I just wanted him to view us as competition rather than targets to be bullied."

"Good idea." Neville mumbled. He had seemed to shrink when Malfoy entered the compartment.

"I'll go see if we're almost there. You two should change into your school robes." Hermione left, a bit more cheerful.

As Harry and Neville changed, a voice said, "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Harry and Neville traded nervous glances as they stepped off the train into the huge crowd of students filling the platform. Wondering what to do, the boys looked around.

Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harry heard a familiar voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?"

Harry's reply was lost in the crowd as the boys pushed toward Hagrid, getting joined by Hermione on the way.

"C'mon, follow me – any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

The group followed Hagrid down a dark slippery path. There was some laughter at the first person who tripped, until everyone started falling over. The only sounds were of stumbling shoes and Neville sniffing.

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

Harry involuntarily gasped, his classmates doing the same. On the edge of a lake stood a huge castle built on a high mountain. With lights flickering in countless windows, it was an awesome sight.

Hagrid led them to some boats by the lake. Harry, Neville, and Hermione were joined by a sweaty Ron, who proudly showed Harry his battered card as the boats started moving.

"Thanks, Ron! You shouldn't have." Harry took the card and put it in a pocket of his robes. Hermione stifled a giggle as Ron looked heartbroken. Harry took pity on him, saying, "But I suppose you earned it." He gave Agrippa back to Ron as the boats carried the students toward the castle.

OoOoO

"Granger, Hermione!" Mrs. McGonagall called Hermione forward as the Sorting continued.

"RAVENCLAW!" The Sorting Hat shouted, and Harry smiled. No surprise there. The Hat made it clear that was where the clever people went. Harry frowned as Neville went to Hufflepuff and Malfoy to Slytherin. The few kids he had met were all in different houses. Mrs. McGonagall's voice rang out again. "Potter, Harry!"

Harry walked forward confidently as all around the hall students were whispering and staring at him. It was embarrassing, but he had to admit that he sort of liked the attention. Archer had frequently warned him about his celebrity status in the wizarding world, and the conditions under which he had gained that fame were too terrible for Harry to become too conceited.

Harry sat at the stool and gulped as the Sorting Hat was put on his head.

"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, my goodness, yes – and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting... So where shall I put you?"

I don't know, Harry mentally complained. All of the people I've met on the train were put in different houses.

"You're not helping me at all." The Hat reprimanded. "Even so, I think it had better be GRYFFINDOR!"

As he walked to the Gryffindor table, Harry pasted a smile on his face while groaning inwardly. Now he was stuck with Ron 'Chudley Cannons' Weasley. Even Draco would make a more interesting, if less agreeable, room mate. Of course, Ron hadn't been Sorted yet, but it seemed like the hat took your opinion into account, and he knew where Ron wanted to be.

Harry sat down, and drove his disappointment away, ashamed of himself. The whole table had welcomed him. As the sorting continued, Harry turned his attention toward the teacher's table. Hagrid was there, smiling at him, and he saw what had to be Albus Dumbledore, because he looked exactly like the chocolate frog card of him Neville had opened.

As expected, Ron was put into Gryffindor. One more student was sorted, then Albus Dumbledore stood up and smiled at the students.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! "Thank you!" He sat back down as everyone clapped and cheered as mountains of food appeared.

Harry blinked, confused by the Headmaster's speech, then dug in eagerly. He knew that Archer did his best, but he was not a great cook, and lacked a house elf. The food he made was simple, filling, and healthy, but nowhere near as tasty as what was spread before Harry now.

Harry watched as Sir Nicholas, the Gryffindor Ghost pulled his head off his neck, revealing... Ugh. What with that and Ron inhaling food across from him, he felt a little queasy. Then dessert appeared, and Harry regained his appetite as he listened to the conversations flowing around him.

Looking up at the teacher's table, Harry saw a teacher with a turban... Professor Quirrell! Hagrid had introduced him at the Leaky Cauldron. He was talking to a hook-nosed teacher with black hair. The teacher glanced at him, and gave Harry such a venomous glare that Harry looked away, shaken, as his scar started hurting. Over his five weeks at Privet Drive, he had received similar looks from the Dursleys.

Rubbing his scar, Harry addressed the prefect next to him, who had introduced himself as Percy Weasley, Ron's big brother. "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you?" Percy replied. "No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to – everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Professor Snape did not seem to like him, Harry thought. He should have known Hogwarts wasn't going to be all smooth sailing, to use a Muggle expression.

Suddenly, all the desserts disappeared, and Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent. "Ahem – just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." He looked around. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. Also, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry started to laugh, but then noticed how serious the rest of the students were. A very painful death. Really?

"Finally, I must introduce you to our new staff. Your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is Professor Quirrell."

There was some polite applause as Quirrell rose, took a choppy bow, and returned to his seat. He looked terrified.

Dumbledore continued. "And for the first time in many a year, Hogwarts has hired an Assistant Professor. As the name implies, he will primarily aid teachers in classes, or teach if they are unwell. Among his other duties, he will hold study sessions for O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. students. Please welcome Mr. Archer Latham."

Harry sat, stunned, as a dark figure rose from Snape's other side and threw off his cloak. As Archer waved to the crowd, liberally giving out winks and smiles, and receiving a hearty welcome, Harry wondered how he hadn't recognized Archer during the banquet. He snickered as the older Gryffindor girls became all giggly as they whispered about 'study sessions'.

Archer sat down, and Dumbledore conducted the school in a disastrous rendition of the school song. Finally the prefects led him and his classmates to Gryffindor tower, which he hardly noticed as he found his dorm and went straight to sleep.

OoOoO

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