Chapter 6: Chapter Six: Starting at the Line's End
Disclaimer: I do not own the franchise of Harry Potter. The world and characters used in this story belongs to J.K. Rowling. Material has been altered to suit the needs of this fanfiction.
Warning: This story is rated M for strong language and graphic violence.
Chapter Six:
Starting at the Line's End
…
Hogsmeade, September 1991
The Hogwarts Express arrived in Hogsmeade Station at a quarter past seven. At half past the hour, the last student to disembark the train caught up with the other first years gathered around Hagrid on the platform.
"There ya are Harry," Hagrid's voice boomed.
Harry waved shyly back and finished buttoning his robe. He found a place next to Hermione, who was frowning at him for his tardiness. She then elbowed Ron to stop him from snickering at Harry's embarrassment. Harry could tell that Neville was suppressing a laugh as well.
"Is tha' everyone?" Hagrid asked, as he counted the first years. "Right, this way then."
The first years all followed Hagrid as he made his way to the opposite end of the platform from where the upper years were exiting the station.
"What took so long Harry?" Hermione whispered as they walked.
"Took forever to find someone to enlarge my trunk," Harry lied.
Truthfully, he waited until no one was left in their compartment before reversing the Shrinking Charm on his own. He couldn't let on that he knew any spells already; he feared the suspicion could lead back to Sirius.
The long path was mostly rocky. With his focus half on his footing and the other half on his haphazard attempt at tying his tie, Harry didn't realize that the path had smoothed out or that they had reached a pier until Ron grabbed ahold of his sleeve, stopping Harry from walking straight off the dock.
Harry gave up adjusting his uniform to look at the view. The calm water perfectly mirrored the sky above. The first stars of the night were visible, but the sky still held a trace of fading deep blue. When did it get so dark? Harry wondered. To the west, he saw the mountains that cast a blanket of shadow across the valley containing Hogsmeade.
Staring out into the near black, past several meters of water Harry saw an enormous wall of stone. With his obstructed position on the pier, Harry was unable to see where the wall ended or began. Over the top of the wall, there was a faint glow of light emanating from somewhere far behind it.
"Everyone to a boat," Hagrid commanded the first years.
"Come on Harry," Ron said, pushing his way to the front of the group.
The students divided their number among ten oarless wooden boats, while Hagrid took the one in the front all to himself. Once everyone was aboard, the boats magically moved themselves slowly across the water toward the wall and then turned direction to travel along it, going deeper into the body of water.
Harry's boat was now close enough to the wall to touch the large stones. He leaned out of the boat with his hand extended to do just that, but felt someone tug on his robe to pull him back.
"Don't Harry," Hermione said in a hushed warning. "It's dangerous. I've read there are wards on the wall to keep intruders out."
"We're not intruders Hermione," Harry said as he reached out again. "We belong here."
Harry's hand made contact, not with the stone but with an invisible barrier just a centimeter from it. It was warm and quietly hummed at his touch. He laughed at the sensation.
They continued floating the length of the wall until eventually reaching a large metal gate, which began to sink into the water as soon as they approached it. Harry spotted flickering of a wand from above a stone bridge that connected one side of the wall to the other above the gate. As Harry got closer to the opening, he tried to focus on the mysterious owner of the wand, but his attention was quickly drawn to what laid beyond the wall instead.
On the far side of what Harry now knew to be a large lake, was a great castle lit by thousands of torch lights and standing upon a cliff 30 meters above the water below. There was a bridge, much wider and longer than the one he just traveled under, connecting the castle at the edge of the cliff to land on the other side of the lake. It was at this point the lake was at its narrowest; bottlenecking to only a 50 meter gap. The water continued beyond, but to what extent, Harry did not know.
The castle itself stood several stories high, and from his position, Harry counted at least six tall towers and even more spires jutting out from the structure skyward. To the right of the castle, Harry could see a thick forest rise with the mountainous landscape that began far behind the castle and stretched in a wide arch, eventually wrapping itself along the eastern side of the lake.
"That is Hogwarts Castle," Hagrid said from the lead boat.
Just after Hagrid's lackluster introduction to the most spectacular sight Harry had ever seen, a tentacle as wide as Hagrid splashed from the lake before returning to the depths below. Several students screamed in alarm, as the boats rocked from the ripples caused by the tentacle's movement.
"Not to worry," Hagrid shouted. "The Giant Squid ain't gonna hurt nobody. He's just sayin' hello."
The boats continued to float across the lake without any other surprises. All the students were silent from either the awe of the castle, or the fright put into them by the monstrous sea creature they now knew swam below them. Their silence remained until they reached a boat house at the base of the cliff below the castle.
Harry climbed out of his boat with the aid of a ladder attached to the dock, and then attempted to help his friends up. He felt a forceful shove from behind as other students walked past him. The push caused Harry to let go of Neville, who still had one foot in the boat. Neville fell but managed to catch himself, and only his left leg and the end of his robe got wet.
"Sorry about that," said a boy, taking the blame for bumping into Harry.
Though lanky Ron Weasley was taller, this thick browed boy was easily the largest first year in the bunch. To his left, the much smaller Draco Malfoy sneered, and next to him an extremely stocky boy, frown. The largest boy couldn't hold back his smile, making it clear to Harry that he was not sorry at all.
"Watch your step Longbottom," Draco laughed. "You never know when another accident might happen. Come on Crabbe, Goyle."
Draco and his two friends walked away as Harry helped Neville fully onto the dock.
"Are you alright Neville?" Hermione asked. She and Ron were still in the boat when Neville fell.
"Yeah," Neville said as he rang out the bottom of his robe. "Just slipped is all."
"Slipped?" Ron exclaimed. "That was Draco Malfoy with the big bloke. I bet a Knut he pushed Harry on purpose. He probably planned on knocking him straight into the lake."
Harry agreed with Ron; it wasn't an accident. He could tell that Ron wanted to do something about it, but like Harry, didn't know what it was that they were supposed to do. Harry was aware that Hermione was intimidated by Draco, and it was plan to see that Neville wanted to drop it. So, the foursome joined the rest of the students and began their hike up the switchback staircase cut into the cliff.
Once they reached the top, Hagrid brought them into a courtyard surrounded by two rows of ivy columns on three sides. On the fourth side, gigantic wooden doors opened to the castle interior.
The doors led to a hall. Across from the entrance, there was a wide marble staircase leading up to the next floor. On either side of it were two smaller staircases leading downward, and a series of simple wooden doors were found next to those. There were two other doorways in the hall, one each found on the walls to Harry's left and right. They were larger than the rest, the one on the right being the largest of all. It was behind the largest doorway the first years could hear sounds of several hundred wizards.
"You lot wait here," Hagrid told the children, as he ducked under a doorway next to the stairs.
After a long moment, an anxious student finally broke the silence.
"What are we supposed to do now?" said a round-faced girl in pigtails.
"You heard the Squib," Draco spoke up. "We're supposed to wait. Really, the man's no better than a Muggle and they leave him in charge."
"Hagrid's not a Squib," Harry defended the grounds keeper.
"What's a Squib?" a curly-haired boy next to Neville asked, completely unaware of the argument that was about to break out.
"Of course you would stick up for the uneducated oaf," Draco taunted Harry. He cast a meaningful look at first Hermione and then Neville. "Already got yourself a…Muggle-born and one Squib, why not another?"
From the corner of his eye, Harry spotted a short brown haired girl frowning nod of agreement.
"What's wrong with being Muggle-born?" Someone murmured from the crowd of first years.
"You best watch it Malfoy," Ron warned.
"Oh," Draco said excitedly, "A Weasley! Really Potter, when it comes to friends, you really set the bar low."
Several students laughed at Draco's verbal jab. A couple others spoke in hushed whispers, surprised by the name Potter.
Harry knew too well the signs of a fight about to happen. At this point, Dudley and his friends usually circled Harry to block off escape just before throwing the first punch. It was also at this point Harry usually ran.
"I'm doing just fine making friends," Harry defended himself and the wizards and witch behind him.
Harry noticed Draco already had his wand out, and was not alone. Crabbe and Goyle, the boys who were with Draco earlier, now flanked Draco on either side. They also had their wands drawn and raised, ready to cast.
Do they know any curses? Harry wondered. Sirius taught Harry several spells, but none of them could harm the first years in front of him. Well, maybe the Severing Charm could hurt him, but Harry didn't want to think about what that could do. Harry pulled out his wand anyway.
"I said," a tall black boy interrupted, "What's wrong with being Muggle-born?" He stood next to Harry and waited in anger for Draco to answer.
This new boy's fists were clinched. Harry wished one of those fists held a wand.
"Nothin'," a boy with an Irish brogue spoke up, looking more confused than angry. "Me da's a Muggle, you know."
For a brief moment, Draco looked scandalized by the Irish boy's intrusion, but he quickly returned his attention back on Harry. Harry tensed, preparing to be cursed. Draco opened his mouth to speak, but someone else spoke up first, distracting him.
"What is going on in here?" A commanding female voice asked.
"Pureblood bigotry," Harry quoted something he had heard Sirius say long ago. He never took his eyes off Draco.
No one else spoke. Draco, who still held most of Harry's attention, was wide eyed, focused somewhere behind and above Harry. He slowly lowered his wand, drawing as little notice to the act as possible. To his left, his friend quickly tried to hide his own wand behind his back. The boy on Draco's right still stared dumbly ahead, wand extended, not sure what to do.
"Harry," Hermione whispered to get his attention.
Harry looked behind him to find that Hagrid had returned with someone else, a very stern faced adult witch.
"Would you care to elaborate Mr. Potter?" the woman asked in an expecting tone.
She stood over Harry with imposingly perfect posture, rigged yet calm. Dressed in robes as green as Harry's eyes, with black hair pulled back tight, tucked into a wide brimmed and pointed topped hat, Harry couldn't help but compare her to the classic evil witches from Muggle cartoons and decorations from past Halloweens. And though the long nose and ugly visage of those imaginary characters were instead replaced by a refined sort of elegance that Harry was not yet mature enough to completely comprehend, He knew this woman was not one to be crossed.
"No ma'am," Harry answered, hoping to avoid getting in trouble.
"I see," she took a breath and a step back before addressing all of the first years. "I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is my duty to see that each one of you receives the best education this school can provide and help you on your way to graduation. That said, I will not stand for fighting in this school. I will not stand for any form of prejudiced against other students." At this, she pointedly looked at Draco. "Such acts are punishable by detention, loss of House Points, or even expulsion. Do I make myself clear?"
Draco nodded, several other students nodded as well, though the Deputy Headmistress was no longer directing her attention to them.
"Customarily a loss of House Points and detentions would be given to those breaking the rules." At this, McGonagall glanced at Harry and the boys standing behind him, "however, the school year has yet to begin. I expect better of my students. This will be a warning. You will not get another.'
"Now if you will all line up, we will enter the Great Hall quietly and walk to the front, and you will each wait to be called for your individual sorting."
As the students lined up and waited to be escorted into the hall, McGonagall spoke to Harry privately.
"Defending your friends is admirable," McGonagall lectured quietly, "but can you perhaps think of a better alternative to fighting?"
Harry furrowed his brow in thought.
"Not particularly ma'am," Harry replied innocently and honestly.
McGonagall inhaled sharply. She looked as if she was about to speak, but instead turned away from Harry and headed toward the doors of the Great Hall.
"Everyone on their best behavior," She spoke to the group, surveying each student one last time. "Fasten up your robes. Mr. Weasley, tie you shoe." She opened the doors but paused again as her eyes fell back onto Harry, "and Mr. Potter," she said firmly, "for Merlin's sake, straighten your tie."
Nearly 400 hundred students and teachers occupied the Great Hall, but still did not completely fill the enormous room. Yet with all eyes on the entering first years, Harry felt suffocated. He did his best to ignore the sudden anxiety, and followed his fellow students as they were guided through the hall. They walked with the back wall to their right and the ends of four tables that stretched the distance of the room on their left. When they passed the first two tables, they turned and walked parallel to the rows of seated upper classmen all the way to the front of the room.
Before them was another table raised on a platform running perpendicular to the four tables of students. Seated behind it, Harry assumed were the professors of Hogwarts. In the center of them, seated in the largest and most ornate chair, was an elderly wizard with the longest white beard Harry had ever seen. His hands were steepled with his gentle gaze directed solely toward Harry.
Harry felt another pair of eyes on him as well. A couple chairs to the left of the bearded professor, Harry recognized Professor Quirrell, the professor he met at the Leaky Cauldron only a month before. Quirrell gave Harry a slight smile before his eyes flickered briefly to the man seated to his immediate left. This man was whispering something quietly to Quirrell while focusing on Harry with a distain far too reminiscent to Vernon's cold hate filled glares.
This pale, sharp featured man's eyes locked with Harry's, and for an instant it felt as if those black eyes were boring into Harry's head.
"Harry," Hermione, who was unaware of Harry's growing uneasiness, said quietly, "look at the stars."
For the first time since entering the Great Hall, Harry looked up and all anxieties left him. The ceiling of the Great Hall was by far the most magical of all enchantments Harry had seen yet. The room was lit in most part by hundreds of floating candles suspended and slightly bobbing here and there several feet in the air, and above that was something even more amazing. The ceiling faded into nothingness and opened to the night sky.
"It's bewitched," Hermione continued to whisper excitedly. "I read all about it in Hogwarts: A History."
Professor McGonagall once again stepped forward. She held an old brown hat shaped much like the pointed green one she wore. Waving her wand, a stool appeared from thin air.
"Each student will sit upon the stool when I call their name and put the Sorting Hat upon their head," she said. She placed the hat on the stool and pulled out a roll of parchment. She then looked down at the hat and waited.
At first Harry wondered if one of the first years was supposed to do something, or perhaps the Deputy Headmistress had forgotten what to say next. But then it happened: the Sorting Hat, once a motionless lump of cloth in McGonagall's hands, now began to move on its own, and from a tear near brim, it spoke in song.
"Though I sit upon your head nothing more than tethered tatters
Within my threads a power there makes me privy to what matters
From the Founders Four, life was given for one purpose met
A thousand years I've served and thousand I'll serve yet
For the Founders Four forever more wish all fortunes blessed
I sort the young to one of four, the House that they'll shine best:
Gryffindor are proud and brave; fear is fought and beaten
The Hufflepuff stay loyal and true to overcome all burdens
Slytherin use cunning tact to reach all of their ambitions
In Ravenclaw they treasure all that better their education
On this chair you sit, and this hat you wear will listen
For within your mind I will find the answer to one question
Consider all choices given and look amongst your piers
Which House of four do you belong, and will you serve for seven years?"
"Abbot, Hannah," McGonagall announced the first student's name once the song was complete.
Harry watched with great curiosity as each student before him took their turn to be sorted. The Sorting Hat sat quietly on each head until it yelled out the student's chosen House. Sometimes it would only take the briefest moment to choose and at other times it would take ages, but in either case, Harry never heard it speak in song again. Harry made special note when Hermione's rather long sorting placed her in Gryffindor, and when Draco was quickly placed in Slytherin before the hat could rest completely on his head.
Soon, the Patil twins were split up, one girl sorted to Ravenclaw and the other to Gryffindor. With Sally Anne Perk's placement in Hufflepuff, it became Harry's turn.
"Potter, Harry," McGonagall called.
There were several gasps heard throughout the student body when she read his name, followed by muffled conversations. Above all other noise, Hagrid cheered in support. Choosing to ignore the whispers, Harry walked to the stool and gave Hagrid a nervous smile and wave.
McGonagall set the hat atop his head, and a tingle of magic ran through Harry much like the one he felt from the wall in the lake. Then the hat did something unexpected. Instead of shouting a House name, it spoke aloud another short line of song, far more eerie than the one from before.
"Four Houses and one roof sit atop a cliff
The rocky ground they walk upon will shake from the smallest rift."
Harry turned his head for the Deputy Headmistress to explain why the hat chose to sing again, but she was as stunned as the rest of the Great Hall.
What was that? Harry thought.
A warning, a disembodied voice spoke from within Harry's own mind.
"What?" Harry looked around for the source of the voice; a warning from whom?
The Founders created me for more than just placing students into dorms. It was the hat speaking, or rather the hat was thinking within Harry's head. Looking around again, it seemed to Harry that only he could hear it now. When I sense danger to the castle, I am bound by the magic that made me to giving warning. When I was placed on your head, I felt the magic pull me.
The magic pulled the Sorting Hat to give a warning…to me or about me? Harry was sweating, his hands curled and uncurled into his robes. The students' hushed whispers, from the announcement of his name, grew much louder as the confusion continued.
It could be either...it could be both. Something within you has triggered my magic to respond. The answer is here somewhere inside your head. You could embrace the danger, let it guide you. Beyond the brave front and need to belong, there's cunning, ambition; I can sense the Slytherin within you.
Harry's thoughts snapped back to Ron's warning and Draco's placement in the Slytherin House.
Are you sure? The Sorting Hat continued to talk riddles of Harry's vague future. Then will you be able to face what comes next? You'll need to be more than you are now: stronger, braver. Well, I can help with that.
"Gryffindor!"the Sorting Hat finally shouted.
The table to Harry's far left erupted in applause as McGonagall prompted Harry to remove the hat and make his way to the Gryffindor students.
"Rivers, Oliver," McGonagall called the next name on her list. The focus of the hall turned toward the newest student preparing to be sorted.
Was that the test? Harry did not understand. Does the Sorting Hat talk in riddles to all the first years, and place them based on their answers?
At Gryffindor table both Neville and Hermione were smiling back at him, waving him over to an empty seat. Harry put his worries aside and took his spot next to Hermione, just glad to have a place where he belonged.
Several students later, the Sorting came to an end with Ron Weasley, the last of the first years, who was placed in Gryffindor. The boy ran to the table and was nearly tackled by two older twin red heads, who picked him up in a fierce hug.
"Harry," Ron said excitedly, "we're in the same House!"
"Make way firsties," One of the twin boys said.
On the opposite side of the table as Harry, first years slide further down the bench as the twin brothers sat down with Ron between them.
"Headmaster," McGonagall said to the man seated in the center chair at the Head table.
"Thank you Minerva," said the Headmaster.
"That's Headmaster Dumbledore," One redheaded twin whispered to the first years around him. "He always likes to say a few words before we eat."
The Headmaster stood up from his chair with an ease uncharacteristic of someone his age. His left hand rose ever so slightly and the center table parted in the middle, before joining itself together once again after he had walked through. From the floor, a golden podium took shape.
"Dig in," Dumbledore followed his statement by clapping his hands together, summoning a banquet of food to appear on all of the tables in the Great Hall. The students began to fill their plates.
"Rather long winded bloke isn't he?" the twin on Ron's right said.
"Never thought he'd finish," said the twin on Ron's left.
"These are my brothers Fred and George," Ron introduced the twins by pointing to each as he said their name.
"Got it wrong again," the twin who apparently wasn't George spoke up.
"Today I'm George," the other twin continued.
"They're twins," Ron needlessly added.
"That was quite the interesting Sorting," Fred directed the conversation to Harry.
"The Sorting Hat's never broken into song twice," said George "Well, at least not in the last couple of years."
"Heard McGonagall when she came into the Great Hall too," Fred smiled wickedly. "You got her robes all in a twist before you were even sorted."
"Stick with this one Ron," George thumbed toward Harry. "I bet you'll have all sorts of fun."
"You nearly got us in trouble," Hermione frowned at Harry.
"He was just standing up to all that talk about blood and other nonsense," a first year boy next to George said. "What did he call it again?"
"Pureblood bigotry," the short Irish boy at their table laughed.
"Are you Muggle-born too?" Hermione asked.
"Nah, me mum's a witch," the Irish boy said. "Name's Seamus Finnigan, by the way." Seamus then pointed to the much taller first year next to him. "This here is Dean."
"Dean Thomas," The boy fully introduced himself. "Hard to say if I'm Muggle-born or not. Mum's a muggle, but dad took off on us before I ever knew to ask."
Harry and his friends ate and chatted about the train ride and what they looked forward to most about the upcoming year, until a girl from another table startled them.
"Ah!" a Hufflepuff first year screamed from the table next to Gryffindor.
Harry turned toward the direction of the scream. Most of the students at the Hufflepuff table were laughing. The first years, however, seemed either be surprised or scared. Harry followed their gaze upward and saw the cause of the commotion. Hovering among the floating candles was a rather chubby and rather translucent man.
"That's the Fat Friar," Fred explained to the Gryffindor first years. "He's the Hufflepuff ghost."
"All the Houses have one," George explained. "That's ours down there." George pointed toward the far end of the table, were the oldest Gryffindor students were talking amicably with another ghost. He then waved over the rather regal looking spectre.
"That's Nick," Fred said, referring to the ghost floating their way. "The other ghosts call him Nearly Headless Nick, but don't let him catch you calling him that; he hates it."
"Good evening and welcome to Gryffindor," Nick greeted the first years. "Sir Nicholas de Mimsey Porpington at your service."
"I've read about you," Hermione spoke up.
"And I look forward to getting to know each of you," Nick replied back, and then nodded toward the Head table, "but I believe the Headmaster wishes to speak."
Dumbledore was once again at the magically formed golden podium.
"To those of you new to this castle and school," he said while scanning the group of first years. "I am Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, your Headmaster. Welcome to Hogwarts. To everyone else, welcome back. Before we end the feast, I would like to address a few reminders to all students.'
"Class schedules will be handed out at breakfast tomorrow morning. Questions or changes regarding your schedule should be brought to the attention of you Head of House at that time.'
"Clubs will be allowed new membership beginning tomorrow, with sign-up sheets found outside the Great Hall until the end of the week. Anyone interested in forming new clubs should seek a professor as an official advisor.'
At the far end of the staff table, a rather unkempt man knocked his fork to his plate to get the Headmaster's attention.
"Rules," the man mumbled a reminder to the Headmaster.
"Ah," Dumbledore said in a pleasant tone, "it has come to my attention that Mister Filch has an updated list of banned items. You will find a copy posted on your House notice boards."
With a slight mirth in his eyes, Dumbledore looked back to Filch to see that he was satisfied. He then turned back to the students and paused with a much more solemn expression, before continuing to speak.
"I am sure you noticed the beautiful forest which surrounds much of the school," Dumbledore was again addressing the first years specifically. "We are fortunate to be blessed with a castle built on such a magically rich acreage of land. However, this has also drawn many dangerous magical creatures to the area, most of which reside within the forest. Therefore, the Forbidden Forest, as the name implies, is forbidden.'
"This year, I am also giving a warning to all students that the third floor corridor, on the right-hand side, is off limits to anyone not wishing to suffer a most painful death. Anyone found attempting to enter the area will be punished severely.'
"Now that unpleasantness is over," began Dumbledore. "I though perhaps we could end the evening with the school song. Professor McGonagall, would you care to lead us?"
McGonagall for her part only glared back at Professor Dumbledore.
"No?" Dumbledore questioned the professor. His eyes twinkled in the candlelight. "Pity, there's nothing quite like song to inspire and move one's spirits."
Across from Harry, the Weasley twins began to sing loudly in an unfamiliar and unpleasant tune.
"Splendid!" Dumbledore cheered before joining along in a rhythm and style completely different to the one the twins were singing.
None of the first years knew the words, but listened as the rest of the student body eventually joined in. When the twins finally finished their version of the song, which was much slower than all of the others, the students were dismissed and began to leave for their dorms.
"First years come with me," Percy Weasley said as he approached their end of the table. "I'll show you to the Gryffindor common room. Stay close and follow my instructions precisely; the stairs can be tricky."
A/N: I got most of the introductions out of the way finally. I also got the set up for the rest of the story put down to words in this chapter. What did you think of the castle's description? Was it too much detail packed together, or not descriptive enough? Review and let me know!
Next Chapter: The Contender steps up.
Update: I've done a little touch up editing for preparation of continuing the story. It's been years, I know, but I'm back with a couple chapters ready to load up after a wonderful beta gets their hands on it.