Well, here is the fourth chapter. I'd like to say a huge thankyou to Starry Night Blue who helps to make my story so much better than it would otherwise be.
Chapter 4: In which there are surprises for everyone
Harry's fifteenth birthday came and went, and the hot summer days passed. Finally, during the middle of August, came the gift that Harry had been waiting for. It was a gift not just for himself, but for Remus too, to a small extent and for Sirius especially. It was delivered in the form of the Daily Prophet. On that momentous day, Harry was awoken by the sound of his Godfather screaming.
"AAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH! MOOOOOOOONY? ADAM? GET DOWN HERE NOOOOOOOOW!"
Harry was awake in an instant. There was only one thing this could mean; Arthur Weasley had come through on his end of the deal. Arriving downstairs a short while later, Harry found a delirious Sirius and a stunned Remus. Both were sitting at the kitchen table, Sirius sporting the biggest smile it was physically possible to portray, while his best friend shook his head and muttered to himself. Harry stopped in the doorway and grinned at the pair.
"I see the paper arrived!"
Sirius turned to look at his Godson, and noticed the smug look on the boy's face.
"Did you know about this?"
"I may have had a slight involvement." Harry paused for a moment. "Surprise!" he added, lamely.
"I can't believe you knew and didn't tell me. Oh what the hell, I don't care. I'm going to be freeeeeeeeeeeeeee."
Harry moved over to the table and looked down at the newspaper that lay between the two men.
SIRIUS BLACK INNOCENT – REAL BETRAYER OF POTTERS FOUND
By Rita Skeeter
In a sensational development that will shock Wizarding Britain, it was discovered late last night that Sirius Black, long believed to be a mass-murderer and betrayer of the late James and Lily Potter to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was completely innocent and framed by his one time friend Peter Pettigrew.
At around 10pm, Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry of Magic accompanied youngest son Ronald (15) to the DMLE. In what appeared to be an arranged meeting, the Weasleys met with Madam Bones, Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt and the Minister himself. The Daily Prophet had also been invited to have a reporter on hand at the Ministry.
Explaining to the assembled group, Arthur Weasley said "My son Ron had expressed an interest in becoming an animagus when he was older, so he had been reading up about it. In the course of his research, he realised that his pet rat was behaving strangely for a simple animal, and that it had lived an incredibly long time for a rat. He asked me to perform the spell that would revert an animagus to his or her human self, just so he could know if these oddities were real or imagined.
"To my extreme surprise and horror, the rat began to turn into a man. Not knowing who this was going to be I stunned the man. When the transformation was complete, I recognised the man as Peter Pettigrew, from when all those pictures were in the papers around the time the You-Know-Who was defeated by Harry Potter.
"At this point I contacted my Ministry colleague Auror Shacklebolt and we agreed on this course of action."
During the course of the interrogation by Auror Shacklebolt and Madam Bones, Arthur Weasley also insisted on his right to question the man who had been hiding out in his home for well over a decade. Reading questions from a written list, Weasley forced Pettigrew, who was under veritaserum, to admit that he had been the Potters' secret-keeper, not Black, and that he had betrayed them to the Dark Lord.
Later that same night, Pettigrew caused the explosion that killed thirteen muggles, before cutting off his own finger and disappearing in order to frame Black. As Pettigrew was taken away by Aurors, the Minister of Magic commended both Arthur and Ronald Weasley for their civic duty, and hinted that a reward would be given for the capture of a dangerous criminal. Both the Minister and Madam Bones also agreed that Sirius Black, whose whereabouts are currently unknown following his escape from Azkaban seven years ago, would receive a full acquittal, an apology and reparation for his unjust incarceration.
For further details turn to pages 2, 3, 4, 5, 7 and 10.
A few days later, the Prophet printed the story that Sirius Black had been proclaimed innocent of all charges by the Ministry of Magic, and that the demeanour of escaping from prison had been overlooked as part of the compensation for wrongful imprisonment in the first place. Peter Pettigrew had also been tried before the Wizengamot in those few days and had been sentenced to life in Azkaban.
Ron Weasley was never going to be academically outstanding, and apart from occasional emotional outbursts, he was generally a logical and intelligent person. In the days following the Scabbers saga, Ron spent many hours thinking about what had happened. At first he was angry at himself for not realising the rat was really a person. Anger gave way to disgust at the thought that he'd held the rat in his arms, caressed and stroked it. Finally irrational emotions gave way to reasoning, and he thought about how things had come to a head.
It was after that night when the Wolf Boy, Shadow, carried Ginny out of the woods. The boy had been polite and respectful to his father, and extremely gentle and kind to Ginny. He had even defended Ron's own impetuous actions to his father. But then the boy saw Scabbers and immediately sent him and Ginny into the house. The next day his father had brought an animagus book for him, and pushed him to study it. The story given to the Ministry was mostly true; it just didn't reflect the encouragement Ron had had from his father to read the book. It was almost as if everything was planned, and that boy was the catalyst. It must have been him who recognised Scabbers wasn't really a rat. Had his father known, he would certainly have acted sooner.
On the third day after the traitor was revealed, Ron was sitting at the kitchen table, lost in thought as usual. The twins were off somewhere creating mayhem and Ginny was in her room studying. Mrs. Weasley was bustling about the house as usual, tidying, cleaning and organising. She returned to the kitchen as a smart brown owl flew through the open back door and landed gracefully on the table in front of Ron. The tall teenager removed the letter that was attached to the bird's leg and it immediately it flew away, out of the Burrow and back from whence it came. Glancing at the envelope in his hands Ron was surprised to see it was addressed to him, and was adorned with the Ministry of Magic stamp. After a quick glance at his mother, who was watching him intently, he tore open the envelope and surveyed the contents. There was a long and wordy letter which commended Ron on doing his duty for society and other such verbose and condescending phrases. The crux of the missive, however, was the imparting of a reward for the apprehension of a Death Eater and dangerous criminal. The second piece of paper in the envelope was a Gringotts bank draught. For 500 Galleons. Ron Weasley's mouth fell open, moments before his whole body slipped onto the floor as he fainted.
"Aaaaaaaarrrrrrrggggghhhhh!" screamed Harry, as he thrashed around on his bed. Suddenly, Remus rushed into the room and saw the stricken boy, wrapped in the bed clothes that were damp with sweat. The werewolf sat on the edge of the bed and gripped his charge by the shoulders, and gently shook him awake.
"Adam? Adam? Wake up!"
As Harry's conscious mind took over, he was immediately aware of the ache in his forehead – the place where his scar was hidden under a permanent glamour charm. He hadn't thought about his scar in years, but suddenly this morning, it ached with a severity he hadn't thought possible.
"Adam, what is it? What's the matter?" asked a worried Remus.
Adam looked blearily around his bedroom. A few rays of sunlight were squeezing around the edges of his curtain, illuminating slices of dust particles that drifted around the room. The furniture was all in place; his messy desk, a bookcase overflowing with old and wondrous texts, the wardrobe. Remus was sat looking at him with concern, the wolf and the panther were both now awake and alert, sensing their master's distress.
"Bad dream, Moony. Really bad."
"Want to tell me about it?"
"No…Yes…In a minute. Let me get cleaned up first, OK?"
"No problem, junior. I'll make some coffee."
A short while later, Harry joined Remus in the cottage's kitchen, and sat at the heavy wooden table.
"Where's Sirius?" Harry asked.
"He's gone to the Ministry to get his official apology from Fudge. He should be back anytime soon, you did sleep pretty late."
Harry looked at the clock. It was nearly eleven already – that was late for Harry. "Let's wait until he gets back then. I only want to re-live this nightmare once."
Soon enough, Sirius returned with a grin so wide it looked as if his face might split open. His smile soon vanished when he saw the pale, quiet figure of his Godson, huddled over a cup of coffee and looking extremely pained.
"What's happened? Adam? Remus?"
"Sit down, Padfoot," began Remus. "Harry has something he needs to tell us about." Without hesitation Sirius took the seat next to Harry, while Remus sat opposite. Both waited patiently for Harry to begin his explanation.
"Well, I was having this dream, although it wasn't like a dream. It seemed so much more real. I mean…dreams are vague and change scenes and are generally weird, right? But this was so vivid, so completely sharp. It didn't feel like a normal dream at all. Does that make sense?"
"Of course it does, Adam," said Remus quickly as he saw Sirius start to shake his head. "What happened in this….vision?"
"Well, everything happened in a graveyard. There was a large cauldron that was bubbling away on a fire and a man dressed in black, who was carrying what looked like a baby to start with, but was actually some hideous baby sized creature…
"…and then this…person, stood up and stepped out of the cauldron. The other man put a black robe on him. The person was strange, very strange. His face looked almost snakelike, and his eyes burned with a hateful passion. He pressed one of his fingers onto a tattoo on the other man's arm, and that's when my scar burst with pain and I cried out, and Moony woke me up."
Remus and Sirius both looked horrified by Harry's story, and it showed clearly on their faces.
"What? It was just a dream, wasn't it?"
"Most likely," said Sirius, a little too quickly.
"Adam," Remus spoke slowly. "We need to speak to Dumbledore. I think you should tell him about this dream."
"Why?"
There was a pause before Remus answered. "Because, I think your dream was about Voldemort."
Albus Dumbledore was busy working through papers in his office, getting ready for the school year that would begin shortly. There were many tasks to complete before the start of term; new students to learn about, staffing issues, budgets, timetables to ratify, prefect and Quidditch captains to appoint, supplies to order….
It was a welcome relief when a brown post owl – of the kind used by the Hogsmeade Post Office – flew in through his open window and deposited a letter on top of his other documents. The envelope was addressed simply; only his name was written, without all the usual titles that official correspondence was adorned with. Using a beautifully crafted paper knife, the old headmaster cut open the envelope pulled out the short letter that was inside.
Professor Dumbledore,
Sirius Black and I are at the Hogs Head. There is someone here you should meet. It is extremely important. Please come alone.
Regards,
Remus Lupin
Dumbledore read the note several times looking for a reason not to believe in its validity. Each time however, his curiosity increased further as to whom this mystery person could be. He also knew he had fences to mend with both men, especially Black. With a slight sense of excitement and a hint of anxiety, the revered educator left his office, bound for the village of Hogsmeade.
A short while later, Albus Dumbledore entered the dark and dreary inn that was run by his brother Aberforth. The few patrons who were in the tavern at this time of day seemingly paid the old man no heed as he approached the counter, behind which his sibling was wiping dirty glasses with an equally dirty cloth.
"Aberforth!" called the headmaster, in greeting.
"They're upstairs, in the private room," replied the younger of the two brothers. Albus nodded once before heading into the back of the pub and up the stairs. The second floor of the Hogs Head was as equally small as the ground floor. There were meagre living quarters, which Aberforth occupied, and a small room which was used for those patrons who wished to have a private conversation. In a place like the Hogs Head, this room was well utilised.
Albus arrived at the door to the private room, but paused for a moment to listen to the voices inside. The two voices he could make out were vaguely familiar, which was comforting. He had not seen Lupin or Black for many years, and was pleased to discover he still recognised their voices. Still wondering who they wanted him to meet, Dumbledore knocked firmly on the door, waited for a moment, then entered the room.
"Good morning, Professor Dumbledore." It was Remus who spoke first. He rose from his seat at the plain wooden table and offered his hand to his former headmaster, which was gratefully accepted. "It's been a long time."
"Indeed it has. Good morning to you Remus, and you Sirius."
"Headmaster," replied Padfoot.
"It is a long time since I have been a Professor or headmaster to either of you. Please call me Albus."
"As you wish, Albus," said Remus, taking control of the meeting once more. "Please sit down with us."
"Thank you, Remus. If I am honest, I am pleasantly surprised by the warmth of your greeting. I have done you both a serious disservice, for which I apologise unreservedly. If there is anything I can do. For either of you."
It was Sirius who responded to his former headmaster. "Times were hard back then, confusing and testing, we all know that. But the past is exactly that, the past, and my anger has long since diminished. There is something we want from you, which is why we called you here to meet us." Sirius gestured to the corner of the room, where Harry had been quietly lurking in the shadows, unnoticed, observing the old man. Harry stepped forward and took the final place at the table.
"Albus, this is Adam. We would like you to admit him to Hogwarts."
Albus Dumbledore stared at the young man who was now sat across the table from him. In his relief at receiving a gracious welcome from the two Marauders, he had not noticed this young man in the corner behind him. The teen had black hair and amazingly green eyes, just like…
Harry watched the old man staring at him. He could almost see the cogs whirring in the old man's head as he took in Harry's appearance. After a few moments, a look of surprise flashed across the wizened face.
Dumbledore concentrated hard on the boy's forehead. There was a glamour charm there. "It can't be…you're not…"
"Dead?" offered Harry. Remus and Sirius looked stunned at Dumbledore's loss of composure. This man never lost his cool.
"Are you really Harry Potter?"
"I am."
"Well, my boy, I can't tell you how pleased I am to find you. Where have you been all this time? It was safe for you at the Dursley's house in Surrey…"
"Just stop there for a second, old man," interrupted Harry. "Just be quiet and listen for a moment. The Dursley's kept me in a cupboard. I was neglected, abused, starved and generally hated. When I was five I was driven to London and left outside an orphanage. The lady who took me in had to give me a name because I didn't know what mine was. My family had only ever called me 'useless boy' or 'stupid freak'. That place was not safe for me."
"Harry, I…I thought it best that you went to your family…" said the Headmaster quietly.
"Those people hated my parents," Harry spat back. "Why do you think it was stated in their will that I should not go to them if something happened?" Seeing the surprise on Dumbledore's face, Harry continued his rant. "Yes, that's right. I've seen their will. Their final instructions that you saw fit to ignore. What gave you the right, Dumbledore? What gave you the right?"
"Harry, I…"
"Don't call me Harry. Harry Potter is dead. Harry Potter ceased to exist the moment you abandoned him on the doorstep of his relatives."
"I'm sorry, Adam." Dumbledore spoke the name very deliberately. "Wizarding society is a fickle place. I wanted to protect you from the spotlight, so you could grow up away from all the attention you were bound to receive."
"You're the most influential person in Wizarding society, and head of the British Wizarding legal system. If anyone is responsible for the state of our society then it's you, Professor. You may have been trying to protect me from the monster that is our world, a monster that you, by your inaction feed and nurture, but in giving that protection, you sent me into hell."
Dumbledore was stunned by the vehemence in Harry's voice. He knew he'd made a mistake placing the boy with the Dursley's several years previously when he'd discovered they had dumped him in an orphanage, but the stinging ferocity of this young man's words brought home to the old headmaster the gravity of his error.
A few moments of silence passed, during which Dumbledore was pensive, Remus quiet as he considered Harry's unusually emotive words, Sirius looked at his Godson with concern and Harry sat still, drained and anguished. Finally, it was Harry who broke the deadlock, as he got up suddenly, knocking his chair to the ground behind him.
"I need a drink," Harry muttered as he strode out of the room. Sirius began to rise, intending on following Harry but Remus stopped his friend.
"Give him a minute Padfoot."
A short while later, Sirius found Harry sat at the bar, nursing an empty Butterbeer bottle.
"You OK, kid?"
"Fine."
"Yeah, right!"
When Harry didn't respond, Sirius spoke again. "You know you have to go back up there, don't you?" Harry turned his head and looked at his Godfather quizzically. "You have to tell him about the dream you had. That's why we came here after all, isn't it?"
"I don't want his help."
"No, I don't suppose you do, but as you said, he is a very influential person. If Voldemort has returned, Dumbledore needs to know. He can speak to the public with authority; influence the Ministry, that sort of thing. Society at large needs to be warned, wouldn't you agree?"
"I guess."
Upon returning to the small room above the bar, Harry recounted his dream to the old Professor, who listened intently, asked pertinent questions and seemed convinced that this was no dream but a vision of events actually transpiring. It was the headmaster's theory that some kind of mental link may have established between Harry and Voldemort when the killing curse had been cast, and this link had been the conduit for this vision.
After much discussion, about the vision, Voldemort, and the threat he posed, it was agreed by all present – some more reluctantly than others – that it was time Harry attended Hogwarts, largely for his own safety. As soon as the decision was made, Sirius and Harry left, in order to spare Harry all the planning for something he didn't want to have to do. Remus stayed with Dumbledore to make the arrangements for Harry's transfer to Hogwarts.
Dumbledore and Remus walked back to Hogwarts after Sirius and Harry had left. The pair chatted reasonably amiably, considering they had only reconciled their relationship barely an hour earlier. Back at the school, they Remus convinced the old man that Harry would be perfectly well placed in his own age group, and that he needed no special tutoring in any subject. As the topic moved round the curriculum to History of Magic, Dumbledore made Remus an unexpected offer.
"Remus, I'm sure you remember Professor Binns?"
"Of course, Albus. I think I'm the only one of my class who managed not to sleep through his classes."
"That's my point, Remus. He really is frightfully boring, and children's heads are rarely interested in Goblins from hundreds of years ago. Not before time, I have decided on a change of scenery in the History classroom. This may seem sudden, given that we have only recently become reacquainted, but I would like to offer you the position of History of Magic teacher. I think it will be good for Adam to have you here, but I do believe you will do an excellent job."
"Wow! I don't know what to say, Albus. I certainly wasn't expecting that."
"Maybe you should think about it for a few days."
"I think I will. I should talk to Sirius and Adam as well." Remus stood up to take his leave. "Goodbye, Professor Dumbledore. I'll be in touch soon."
"Goodbye, Remus."
Remus Lupin walked through the empty corridors and halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, turning over in his mind the headmaster's offer. Making his way through the ancient castle more on instinct than conscious thought, Moony soon found himself at the main door and striding down the path to the gated entrance to Hogwarts grounds. Still a little stunned by Dumbledore's offer, Remus Disapparated back to Devon, eager to tell Sirius and Harry his news.
The remaining days of August disappeared quickly in a rush of preparations for both Harry and Remus, who were both going to Hogwarts. Sirius was planning for a trip around the world and was equally busy as the other two. The most noteworthy activity during the final days had been the purchase of Harry's wand. Although he was entirely proficient with wandless magic, it had been agreed to keep this fact hidden as much as possible, lest the wrong people learned of this talent. For Harry, this was simply the natural way, what he was used to after ten years of practice. Most wizards used a wand to focus their magic through a channel and out again in the form of a specific spell. In contrast, Harry had learnt as a child to focus his magic without the aid of a wand. There was no extraordinary power or talent, as far as he was concerned, that's just how it was done.
Harry had stood in Ollivander's shop with a wand thrust into in his hand by the strange old man. "Well give it a wave," Ollivander had said, apparently amused by Harry's ineptitude. After many tests, the shopkeeper finally found a wand suited to Harry; it was made of holly with a phoenix feather core. Ollivander had seemed to be intrigued by this match between wand and wizard, Harry noticed, but he made no comment about it. Harry every spare moment since practising casting spells he had read about, with mixed success. A lot of the time, he focussed to heavily on saying the wands and moving the words to let his magic flow through his arm and hand and into the wand. It was when Harry stopped trying too hard and let the magic flow that spell-casting became successful. Harry quickly learnt that some things were more effective cast with a wand – precise actions like levitating a specific, small object for example. He could never heal a wound in this way, however, as he would instinctively spread his hands over an injured area, or around a broken limb.
Finally, September 1st came around, and fifteen year old Harry, accompanied by Sirius arrived at Kings Cross station, ready for him to catch the Express. Remus had gone straight to the school rather than take the train, not wanting to get in Harry's way as he met new people, people his own age for the first time. After saying an emotional farewell to his Godfather, Harry boarded the first gleaming red carriage, and began walking up the train's corridor, searching for an empty compartment. At the back of the train, most of the compartments were beginning to fill. Towards the front, there were many spaces, so Harry picked one at random and sat on the padded bench seat, facing the way the train would travel. It was nearly eleven o'clock when the door to the compartment slid open, though Harry continued to stare out of the window.
"Excuse me, but do you mind if…" a girl's voice started asking, but it trailed off when Harry turned to look at her.
"Adam?" the girl asked, her voice sounding almost disbelieving
"Yeah?"
"Adam Black?"
"How do you know who I am?"
"Don't you remember me? I'm Grace."
"From St. Christopher's?" The girl beamed as comprehension dawned on the black-haired boy's face. "Is it really you?"
Grace didn't answer but rushed into the compartment to give Harry a huge hug, which he returned rather awkwardly. He hadn't seen this girl for seven years, and she had changed considerably. Now that Harry knew who she was, he could recognise the smiling child in this attractive teenager as the first person he ever considered to be a friend.
"Ahem!" A polite voice in the doorway tried to get the attention of the two old friends. Grace pulled away from Harry and turned back to the door, where her cousin was standing patiently, but with a bemused expression.
"I' m sorry, cuz'. This is Adam; we were friends at the orphanage. Adam, this is my cousin, Hermione."
Having waited for her introduction, the second girl stepped into the compartment and offered her hand to Harry. She was not exceptionally tall, or particularly short and had a pretty face, but not an obviously beautiful one. Her brown hair was thick and wavy – a band was struggling to keep all the loose strands back from her face. Unlike most of those students Harry had seen on the station and train, this girl was already wearing her black school robes, and pinned prominently next to the school crest was a shiny new prefect's badge.
"Hermione Granger," the girl said, as Harry shook her hand. "I'm one of the Gryffindor prefect's for the fifth year. I assume you are starting at Hogwarts? What year are you going to be in?"
Hermione asked many questions, which Harry generally answered politely but with brief responses. He was more far more eager to talk to Grace than her extremely curious cousin. Thankfully, it was not too long before Hermione announced that she had to go to the prefect's carriage, ready for the meeting. Harry had no idea what that could be about, but he was glad the girl was leaving. Grace and Harry spent the next few hours telling each other about their lives. The blonde-haired girl had caused the explosion at the orphanage when she was mercilessly picked on by older boys. Her anger had triggered a massive flash of accidental magic, which caused some gas cylinders to rupture. Remarkably, Grace had survived reasonably unscathed, despite the loss of life to several other children. It was at this time that the Orphanage had been forced to close. Money had always been tight for Mrs. Rutherford and the cost of repair to the building would have broken her financially. The remaining orphans at the home where either shipped off to other orphanages, or for the lucky few, distant relatives were found who were willing to take in their kin.
Hermione and Grace were not first cousins, but something like second or third. Nevertheless, Grace had been welcomed into Granger household, and Hermione and her had lived like sisters ever since. Whilst Hermione had been sorted into Gryffindor, Grace's geniality had led her into Hufflepuff, where she was popular, but not academically outstanding.
Harry, for his part told Grace about Sirius and Remus, and the house the lived in the forest in Devon. He talked about the forest and the local villages, mentioning that he had met Luna Lovegood and Ginny and Ronald Weasley. He shared a little of what he learned about his parents, how they were kind, loving and good people, but had been killed by Voldemort.
Several hours into the journey, Harry and Grace had finished telling their respective stories, and were sitting mostly in comfortable silence, occasionally chatting about something inconsequential. At some point a couple of new first years had asked to share the compartment, to which neither objected, but both were now asleep.
The next visitor to their compartment was Ronald Weasley, who was extremely surprised to see his so-called assailant sitting staring out of the window. Harry looked at the shell-shocked red-head, whom he noticed was also sporting a Gryffindor prefect badge, and nodded his head in recognition. Flustered by this curt but obvious greeting, Ron paused a moment before returning the acknowledgement.
"Did you want something, Ron?" Grace asked.
"Err…I was looking for Hermione."
"She's not been here since before your prefects' meeting. If she comes back I'll tell her you were looking for her, okay?"
"Um…yeah, thanks." Ron began sliding the compartment door closed, when Harry called out to him.
"How's your sister, Weasley?"
The door slid back open forcefully, hitting the frame with a bang.
"What?" Ron snapped.
"Your sister's ankle. Is it all better now?" Harry asked calmly.
"Oh, yeah. It's fine."
Harry nodded again at the red-head who had tried to punch him. Unable to find fault with Harry's attitude, Ron slid the door closed and stomped off up the train corridor, looking both for Hermione and the lady with the sweet trolley.
In another compartment, elsewhere on the train, two friends were enjoying their ride to Hogwarts, passing the time reading and chatting. They had seen each other several times over the summer holidays, as they lived in neighbouring villages, on either side of a small forest.
"Luna?" asked the red-haired girl.
The dirty-blonde Luna Lovegood looked up from the latest edition of The Quibbler, which she was reading upside down. "Yes, Ginny?"
"In the woods near your home, have you ever seen a…" Ginny trailed off.
"Seen a what, Ginny?"
"A boy."
"A boy?"
"Yes."
"Of course. Lots of people walk through the woods, especially in the summer. I often watch them and wonder why they are just walking. There are so many amazing creatures to see but no-one ever seems to pay any notice. Especially the boys. They're always more interested in picking up sticks and hiding from their parents…"
"No," interrupted Ginny, as her slightly scatty friend went off on a rant about something else. "A particular boy, dressed in black, with a pet wolf."
"A boy dressed in black with a pet wolf?"
"I know it sounds crazy, but that time when I decided to walk home from your house, I fell and hurt my ankle pretty badly. This boy appeared and healed it, and then he carried me about two miles back to The Burrow. He was so strong, but kind and gentle. Mysterious too – he wouldn't tell me anything about himself. My brother's have seen him in the village a few times I think. He said his name was Shadow."
"I'm sorry Ginny," said Luna. "I've never seen a boy dressed in black called Shadow with a pet wolf."
"Oh. Never mind. I just…"
"But I have met a boy dressed in black with a pet wolf called Adam."
Eventually, the bright, warm sunlight faded to leave behind a cool late summer evening. The Hogwarts Express pulled into the small station at the village of Hogsmeade. Harry knew he was supposed to go with the first years and take a boat across the lake to the school, so he said his goodbyes to Grace and followed the large booming voice that called down the platform.
"Firs' years! Firs' years this way!"
Grace fought her way through the throng of students, looking for her dorm-mates, eventually finding them near the Thestral-pulled carriages. Grace had always been able to see the Thestrals, and having asked Hagrid about them one day, she assumed that it was because of the accident at the orphanage.
"Have a nice journey?" one of her friends giggled at her.
"Yes thank you. Why didn't you come and find me?"
"Well," began another of her friends. "We saw your cousin and asked her where you were, and she told us you were in a compartment with a boy, and that you probably didn't want to be disturbed."
"So? Who is it?"
"And is he a good kisser?"
"WHAT? You think I was…Well I wasn't. He's an old friend who I haven't seen for many years. And we talked." Grace was exasperated by her friends' assumptions, but then they were fifteen year old girls.
"So?" asked one of them.
"So what?"
"Is he a good kisser?"
"I. Don't. Know."
"Well, at least tell us what he looks like. Is he hot?"
The doors to the Great Hall opened in front of the gaggle of nervous first years, and led by the stern Professor McGonagall, they shuffled their way along the centre aisle of the hall. As the first years moved on, Harry stopped for a moment in the doorway to take in the magnificence that was Hogwarts' Great Hall. On the far left, was the Slytherin table. Next were the Ravenclaws and across the aisle the proud Gryffindors. To the far right of the hall was the Hufflepuff table, where Harry's eyes scanned first, looking for Grace. She saw him looking for her and waved, ignoring the giggles coming from her closest house-mates.
Sweeping his gaze up the other tables, Harry next noticed the girl he had met in the woods near his home, Luna Lovegood. As he walked slowly across the hall towards the waiting first years and the sorting area, he stopped briefly next to Luna, who had turned to look at him.
"Hello Adam," she said, in her usual airy tone.
"It's nice to see you, Luna," Harry replied, before he continued up the hall. Further along, he stopped again, for he had seen someone else he recognised – at the Gryffindor table. Her long, fiery, red hair fell down her back, and amazingly seemed to reflect the glow of the thousands of candles that floated above their heads. In complete disregard of the first years and the impatient deputy headmistress who was waiting to begin the sorting ceremony, Harry stooped so he could whisper in the ear of Ginny Weasley.
"I told you we'd meet again, Miss Weasley."
Ginny turned to look at him, her face etched with surprise, for she had not noticed Harry enter the hall.
"And I haven't forgotten about the fox, either."
Not giving her a chance to respond, Harry straightened up, and continued the last few steps to the front of the hall, where Professor McGonagall looked at him icily.
"Have you quite finished greeting your friends, Mr. Black?"
Harry responded only by shrugging slightly and giving a faint nod. After one final glare at Harry, Professor McGonagall looked down at her parchment and began the sorting ceremony. The first years gradually dispersed to the four tables across the Great Hall, and soon only Harry remained. Not sure what to expect of his sorting, he sat on the stool and placed the floppy and tattered old hat upon his head.
"My goodness, what have we got here? Finally Harry Potter has arrived at Hogwarts. Going by the name Black now I see…well, let's have a look then. My you are an interesting one. There's a piece of everything in you, courage, cunning, loyalty and cleverness…Hmm…where to place you…"
The hat pause for hat seemed like an age to Harry, before it continued. "I've considered everything, and based on your current position of duplicity, I place you in…SLYTHERIN."