The Only Thing He Ever Wanted

Chapter 9 – Sorting and the First Day

A/N:

If the Sorting Ceremony and Feast seem vaguely familiar, it's probably because I had my copy of The Sorcerer's/Philosopher's Stone open to it for reference.

Disclaimer: Yeah, I still don't own anything, except for Adepts.


After what felt like an eternity to most of the students, the large doors swung out and open, revealing a stern-looking woman. She wore emerald-green robes and spectacles with her dark hair under a classic black witch's hat. Hagrid nodded to her and stepped inside as soon as she came out the door.

She got everyone's attention with some impressive streamers that came out of her wand. "Welcome to Hogwarts, First Years! My name is Professor McGonagall, and I will be your Transfiguration teacher during your stay here. The start-of-term feast is about to commence inside the Great Hall, and in a few moments, I will lead you inside to sit, but before you do just that, you all will be sorted.

"The Sorting Ceremony is very important because you will all be separated into one of the four houses, each of which has an impressive history and has produced countless exceptional wizards and witches. For those of you who do not know, the house names are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Your house will be something of your family and each one has its own dormitory. There is also a contest between the houses, and the winning house is awarded the House Cup. Points are the basis for this contest; your triumphs will accumulate points for your house, but breaking the rules will lose you points.

"If you'll all wait a few more moments, we'll begin sorting you." At her command, they congregated at the base of the stairs in to prepare to enter the castle while she stepped back inside for a moment.

The overtones of chattering children slowly grew louder until the shriek of a several students in the back of the group caused all the rest to twist around and look to see what had caused the outburst.

Harry and Hermione (more so Harry) were one of the few that refrained from jumping when they heard the shrieks, so they calmly looked back at the spectacle. About a dozen ghosts had drifted through the walls, proving their intangibility. The floating specters were going to continue on to the Great Hall while continuing their discussion about some unruly person called Peeves, but seeing as they had been noticed by the shrieking students, they decided to introduce themselves to the First Years.

The first that introduced themselves was entirely silver (like all of them), but he wore ethereal robes that were much different than the garb of the others. "I am called the Fat Friar," he said. "I hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" The last comment was followed by the subdued snickers of sure-to-be-Slytherins. A couple more greeted them, like a certain Sir Nicholas, but a few unfriendly ones stayed back as mute phantoms, one of which used to be a burly fellow. He had shiny silver blood splotched all over his robes and an air of slight arrogance and distaste, as if he was being held against his will. The ghosts finally bade them goodbye and left the students to themselves in front of the doors again.

Draco was still steaming from his last encounter with Harry, but that didn't stop him from opening his very large mouth again. He approached Harry, and began talking to him once again.

"So, Potter," he said pompously, "have you reconsidered my offer yet?"

And so, the pathway to a very great prank opened itself to the prankster-in-training.

"Oh Merlin!" he yelled, getting everyone's attention in the process. "I already told you once, Malfoy! I don't want to be your gay lover! Stop trying to convert me!"

Draco went red in the face in embarrassment. "What are you going on about, Potter? I've already told you I'm not gay!"

"Get away from me, you fag!" Harry yelled and drew his wand.

Up until this point, all the other kids were laughing, and next to Harry, Hermione was going pink in the face from her laughs. But everyone went quiet when the doors opened and McGonagall reappeared.

With a, "Thank Merlin, an adult!" Harry ran up to McGonagall, and told her that the young Mr. Malfoy had been making perverse advances upon him, and her expression became one of severity. Only Harry could see the mirth in her eyes, though. She was tight with the Marauders, he had learned, and he was the next best thing.

"Mr. Malfoy," she said harshly, "I will not tolerate such behavior at Hogwarts! If I hear about this again, I will have to enforce punishment. You're lucky you haven't been sorted yet, else you would have had the year's first point deduction." The boy in question turned white at this rebuke and fell silent, not bothering to retort against the teacher.

With that, she led them into the castle and looked over her shoulder several times in response to the sniggers and chuckles that came from the children at Malfoy's expense. As they walked, they heard the sound of chattering coming from up ahead, which undoubtedly was coming from the Great Hall.

And great it was.

The first thing Harry noticed when coming into the Hall was that there were four oblong tables that stretched the length of said hall, which was a substantial distance. The tables, he assumed (as students wearing different colors were stationed at each table), were for each of the houses and they broke apart for a about a meter to a meter and a half for accessibility purposes. The resulting tables were each somewhere between six and ten meters long.

He could see the heads of every student turn and gaze at the incoming class. He could feel the emotions radiating off of them and he sensed that anticipation and curiosity were the most abundant. There were at least a thousand (if he were to guess) candles that floated in the empty space above. As he looked up to view more and more candles, he was met by a familiar sight. He looked past the vast wooden rafters and looked at the ceiling to see the abundance of stars reflected in the ceiling of the Great Hall. The moon, a sliver of silver, dropped in and out of sight with the wisps of clouds that glided across the sky. He looked down again and Hermione whispered with him that the ceiling was enchanted to reflect the sky; straight from Hogwarts, A History.

Professor McGonagall had somehow reached the front of the hall much faster than them and was now standing in front of a wooden podium on the side. When the last student had entered the hall, they all stood there, not knowing what to do next, so they waited and were oblivious to what was about to happen.

They paid no notice to the grubby old hat sitting on the three-legged stool in front of them. That is, until it started singing. The dingy brown pointed hat had developed a tear near the brim and had started spouting a song, which sounded amazing in spite of the lack of accompaniment. It sang about the qualities that each house represented, and it gave them something new to think about in regards to the house they hoped to get into. (1)

"When I say your name, please come forward, place the hat on your head, and sit on the stool to be sorted," she informed, and then got back to business. "Abbot, Hannah!" she called, and a pink-faced girl with pig-tails bounced up to the stool.

She gently placed the large hat on her head, and the brim fell down ever her eyes. After a few moments, the hat shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!" She scampered off to the indicated table and the applause of the rightmost table welcomed her into their ranks.

"Bones, Susan!" McGonagall called out this time.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat yelled again, and Susan sat down next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The left-center table exploded this time, and the students happily admitted Terry.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy," followed Terry into Ravenclaw, but a certain, "Brown, Lavender," became the first Gryffindor of the class. The table on the far left of the hall erupted in applause for her, and the Weasley twins jumped up in unison to begin their tradition of shaking new Gryffindors' hand vigorously; all to their comical ends.

"Bulstrode, Millicent!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

From what he had heard from his uncles and also from the demeanor of the last student, Harry realized that Slytherin wasn't made up of very pleasant people.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin," became a Hufflepuff and joined the appropriate table.

It was then that Harry noticed that it sometimes took more than a moment for the hat to decide on house placement. Seamus Finnigan's sandy hair disappeared under the hat for almost a minute before the hat sent him to Gryffindor.

When Hermione's name was called, she extricated Harry's fingers from her own, which she had unconsciously grabbed and nearly broke. She walked nervously up to the hat and plunked it down on her head. The hat contemplated her placement for nearly two minutes before shouting, "GRYFFINDOR!" and Harry applauded her in addition to the Lions' table.

It wasn't long after Hermione's sorting that Neville was also put in Gryffindor, and the hat deliberated for the longest time yet for him, especially considering that he accidentally brought the hat with him to the table, and had to run back to the stool to put it back.

Draco Malfoy strutted up to the hat like the arrogant ponce that he was. He obviously got what he wanted, judging by his smirk, when the hat shouted, "SLYTHERIN!" in disgust after barely touching his head.

Not many children were left now.

McGonagall went through the rest of the M's, the N's, and the P's (including two Indian twins who, surprisingly, were separated between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor). It was not long after a "Perks, Sally-Anne" that Harry was called up.

Harry could feel the response from the room immediately. All the eyes turned to him, some in surprise, others in admiration, and still others in curiosity. "The Harry Potter?" some murmured. As he walked slowly up to the stool, he could feel everyone's eyes follow him. "Did you see his scar?" others whispered. He nodded curtly at McGonagall, who returned it, and promptly placed the age-old hat upon his head. As darkness enveloped him, he found Hermione's chocolate-brown eyes among the throng, and he smiled at her reassuringly; his green ones were obscured after that.

As soon as his vision dimmed, he felt another presence in his mind. After a few moments, he heard a voice mumbling. "Ah, yes, very interesting," it said. "I see the beginnings of Occlumency shields." Needless to say, Harry was startled, until he realized what it must have been.

"Are you the Sorting Hat?" He asked tentatively.

"Why yes, of course," the entity replied. "I'm nearly finished here, so do you have any preferences to a House?"

"Uh, we get a choice?" Harry replied. He'd never heard of students getting a choice of their house before.

"Not really, but I take your feelings and reasons for your answer into account when I sort you," it said back.

"Well, I wouldn't have had a preference between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw," he answered, "but since my friend Hermione is in Gryffindor, I would prefer that house."

"Hmm," the hat deliberated. "You would be good in any of the houses, even Slytherin. You have unwavering loyalty to those you care about, you are studious, almost as much as Miss Granger, and you have an astounding amount of courage, which I don't think you've completely discovered yet. You are well balanced in mind and body, but your choice has made mine.

"GRYFFINDOR!" it shouted, and it was the loudest yet.

Harry set the hat back down on the stool and whispered his thanks to it. He then walked confidently to the Gryffindor table amidst the throng of voices and applause, and after shaking each of the Weasley twin's hands (who were shouting, "We got Potter! We got Potter!") and being thoroughly jostled, he sat down next to Hermione.

He soon learned that Fred and George had another brother, besides Ron. He was a Sixth Year Prefect with glasses like Harry, and slightly lighter than his brothers', curly red hair. Harry noticed that he gave Harry a much more enthusiastic handshake than any other of the Gryffindor First Years, which made him come off as a bit pompous, but Harry decided that it could be chalked up to his ambitious nature, which, in and of itself, was not a bad thing at all.

It was not until the hall had calmed down that Harry got his first chance to really look at the Staff Table, if only for a moment. He could see Hagrid easily, and he was sitting next to a tiny teacher, who had to be Professor Flitwick, according to what he'd learned so far. He swept his gaze across the table and met a pair of twinkling blue eyes that could only belong to Dumbledore. There seemed to be a controlled madness behind his azure orbs, and the old man gave him an imperceptible nod and a smile, both of which he returned in kind.

Now that there were three people left, Dean Thomas was sent to Gryffindor. Lisa Turpin was next and went to Ravenclaw. Then it was the insufferable red head's turn. Harry expected him to go to Slytherin, even wanted him to, but that was not what happened. The hat took about a half a minute, but in the end, "GRYFFINDOR!" was the decision. Harry just stared with raised eyebrows in disbelief. He seemed to be the only one, besides Hermione, that had expected otherwise and was accordingly shocked. He just silently told himself that Ron had better watch out, or else his health might come to be a point of concern.

Ron beamed all the way to the Gryffindor table, until he saw Harry, and then "Zabini, Blaise," was called up and concluded the Sorting Ceremony by going to Slytherin.

After this, Dumbledore rose to his feet and smiled. He then addressed the students.

"Welcome all!" he said. "Welcome to this new year at Hogwarts! Prior to the start of a wonderful feast, I will attempt to expand your vocabularies!" At this, several student's groans could be heard. "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"That is all."

The silver-bearded man sat back down to the enthusiastic applause of most of the students. Harry just sat with a knowing smile. Dumbledore is so predictable, he thought to himself with a shake of his head.

When Harry looked down at the table again, he saw that all of the plates, platters, dishes, and pitchers had all magically filled themselves without any semblance of change. It was at this point that the House Ghosts joined them, each swooping down from the ceiling towards their table and hovering above the students.

Harry remembered seeing the Gryffindor ghost in the back of the group of specters they had seen before the sorting and had introduced himself, and suddenly recalled that this was the ghost that Sirius and Remus had told him about. He just hadn't made the connection before.

"You're Nearly Headless Nick, aren't you?" he asked.

The ghost gave a huff and rearranged his ruffs. "I really don't understand why everyone insists on calling me that," he harrumphed. "My name is Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington."

Seamus jumped in at this point. "Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

The ghost gave a sigh, clearly not enjoying how the conversation was going. "Like this," he said irritably. He grabbed his left ear and pulled it down. His whole head lurched to the side and sat on an obtuse angle, revealing all (what used to be) the pale sinewy muscles in his neck. He seemed immensely satisfied with the reactions from the children, and deftly reattached his head, which finally ended most of the students' cringing and groaning. "So, new Gryffindors! I hope that you'll be good assets for the house championship this year. The Slytherins have gotten the cup for the last six years, and I don't really feel like listening to the Bloody Baron anymore; he's starting to get intolerable. He happens to be the Slytherin ghost, by the way."

He motioned towards the Slytherin table, and Harry recognized the ghost from before. He still looked the same with the silver blood and arrogant and otherwise bland disposition. He sat with a blank look and a gaunt face, and no one wise would think to disturb him.

"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus.

"I never thought to ask," Nearly Headless Nick responded with an empty look.

Everyone ate as much as they wanted, and the remainder of the food disappeared from the plates. Moments later, desserts appeared in front of them. Ice cream, pies, doughnuts, Jell-O, puddings, and any other thing you could think of was there.

Everyone took their favorites, and then they began talking again.

"I'm half," Seamus informed everyone. "Me dad's a muggle, me mum was a witch, though she didn't tell him until after they were married. He was fairly shocked."

Everyone laughed at this.

Harry chose to remain silent about his own background, but decided to help Neville get out of his shell. "You got anything interesting to say, Neville?"

"Well, my gran brought me up, but the family thought I was a squib for the longest time," he said. "My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to force some magic out of me every chance he got – he pushed me into a lake once, and I almost drowned – but nothing happened until I was eight. Once, he decided to dangle me over a balcony and accidentally dropped me, but I bounced into the road next to our house. Everyone was so happy for me, and Uncle Algie bought me my toad."

Harry then looked up at the Staff Table once again. Hagrid was drinking what appeared to be pudding and McGonagall was talking to Dumbledore. He shifted his gaze and looked again, scanning auras and emotions. Hagrid was content, McGonagall and Dumbledore were amused, and Flitwick was giddy (presumably because of the wine he was drinking). Those four exuded light colors, none purely white, but none the same exact hue. He passed his gaze over the rest of the table, and centered on two peculiar subjects. One of them had a hooked nose, black hair, and sallow skin. This could only be Severus Snape. His aura looked to be a grayish color, and he had slightly simmering anger and hidden sadness lying underneath the surface. What was even more peculiar was the man next to him. He wore a big purple turban and was speaking intently with Snape. Harry could see a darkness emanating from the turban, and it startled and puzzled him all at once. The rest of the man, however, bore a look of jitteriness and a lifeless color. This was very confusing. Snape suddenly looked past the man next to him and directly into Harry's eyes. He immediately felt a delicate brush of some external force in the back of his mind, and he reflexively stopped thinking. The anger inside Snape suddenly rose to the surface and he looked away. Harry turned his gaze back to the man with the turban, and he felt a slight tickle in his scar. What nobody knew, however, was that he was extremely ticklish, so he started laughing, but covered it up with a cough, and kept doing so. Hermione turned to him with a shocked expression on her face and started patting his back.

"Are you alright, Harry?" she asked worriedly.

As soon as he looked away, the tickling stopped and he could breathe again. "Yeah," he gasped. "I think something just went down the wrong pipe." He then turned to Percy. "Who's that teacher next to Snape?" he asked.

"Oh, you know about Snape already, do you?"

"Doesn't everyone?" he countered.

"True enough," the curly-haired ginger replied. "That's professor Quirrell," he finally answered. "He's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year, a position that everyone knows Snape wants."

Harry stared at him for a time, but the tickling feeling never came back.

After a time, the desserts too disappeared, and Dumbledore once again rose to his feet and addressed the throng.

"Ahem," he coughed. "I just have a few more words for you this evening, now that our bellies are full and our thirsts have been quenched.

"First years, I will only tell you once that the Forbidden Forest is indeed forbidden, thus the name. If we wanted you to go into it, we would call it the Forest Of All Things Good And Pleasant With No Bad Things There Such As Acromantulas And Other Foul Beasts. As it is not called that, you obviously should know not to go there. Some of us would do well to remember such things." He then swept his gaze over to the Gryffindor table, eyes lingering on a certain two twins who were known for mischief and destruction.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has also asked me to remind you that there is no magic to be used in the halls, and that a list of banned items has been posted on his office door and all the House Bulletin Boards for reference.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of this term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madame Hooch.

"And finally, I will tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds everyone who does not wish to die a painful death."

That seemed to be enough food for thought for the occupants of the hall, and they all began chatting about why in the world that particular room would be off-limits.

"And now, before bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore with fervor. The other teachers began holding back grimaces.

Dumbledore produced a large golden streamer from his wand with a deft flick, and the ribbon shaped itself into a paragraph of words.

"Pick your favorite tune, and let us begin," he said enthusiastically.

The whole of the students then began jumbling all of their words together, none singing the same tune, and they all ended at different times. By the time everyone else had ended, Fred and George were only halfway through the song, as they had chosen a very slow and off-key rendition of Ode to Joy as the theme for the song. Dumbledore seemed delighted, though, and conducted the second half with enthusiasm. When they finally finished, the silver-bearded man clapped the loudest of anyone in the hall.

"Ah, music," he said wistfully. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, it is officially bedtime. Off you go!"

Percy then rounded up all of the Gryffindor First Years and led them through the loud crowds out of the Great Hall and up a marble staircase that was very near the large doors to the Hall. Most of the First Years swayed on their feet because of all the food they had eaten, and they all felt tired from the long and stressful day. A couple of muggleborns started when they heard the paintings and portraits whispering on the walls, and Harry noted that they were led through a couple of doors that could only be reached through sliding panels and by lifting tapestries.

Suddenly, a suit of armor jumped out of an alcove ahead of them and started taunting them. Percy just sighed and rolled his eyes. He turned around and reassured the students that the armor wouldn't harm them, as it was actually a ghost that was animating it.

"Peeves!" he shouted. "Leave the poor armor alone!"

The sound of a very loud and rude raspberry answered his demand.

"Do you really want the Bloody Baron to hear about this?"

The armor stiffened at this, and then a tremor ran through it, until it rattled to the floor like a pile of bones. A little, translucent man with dark, mischievous eyes appeared and floated above the fallen suit of mail and plates. "Ooooooooh! Ickle Firsties! What fun!" he said, eyes wide, and mouth wider in a mischievous smirk.

He then flew over their heads and barreled out of the hallway, but not before smacking a few of them on the head.

"Be careful about the poltergeist, Peeves," Percy informed them. "He's no help if you're running late for class. The Baron seems to be the only one that can control him these days, not even prefects can stop him, so be sure to mention the Bloody Baron if you're hard-pressed for time." After Percy reset the suit of armor, they walked for a few more minutes, until they reached their destination. "Here we are."

At the end of the corridor they were following was a portrait of a very plump lady in a pink dress.

"Password?" she said distractedly.

"Caput Draconis," Percy replied. "Correct," she answered, and her canvass swung forward to reveal a round hole. They all scrambled through the hole into what was called the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry agreed with his Uncles on the fact that the living room in the Manor was very similar to the Common Room.

As soon as he saw the squashy armchairs, Harry couldn't help but sit down and lean back. He was exhausted from the day and the combined effect from the chair and the heat from the fireplace did wonders for him. He decided that he would almost rather sleep here than in the four-poster bed that he knew was waiting in the First Year boys' dormitory.

Percy informed them which direction the boys' and girls' rooms were, as the staircase that went up to them split after it hit the landing, which had a large wall-sized window that overlooked the grounds. The girls' were on the left and the boys' were on the right. He informed them that their rooms were up at the top of the winding staircases that were beyond the top of the boys' and girls' stairs and with that, he departed, leaving them all to do whatever they wished, which he knew would not be much, since it was late and they were tired beyond belief.

Hermione took the chair next to Harry's and immediately agreed with him; they were too comfortable to be real, but they were. The other boys and girls were so tired that they didn't even notice that Harry and Hermione didn't accompany them up the staircases.

"So," Harry began, "is this all that you thought it'd be?"

"Yes!" she replied enthusiastically. "Everything and more! What about you?"

"The grandeur of Hogwarts was slightly ruined for me," he explained. "I live with my Uncles, and they both attended Hogwarts together. They explained pretty much everything to me; like the secret places." Hermione's eyes narrowed at this. "Don't worry, I'll show you a couple some time," he offered, and she smacked him playfully on the arm.

"That's not what meant at all!" she admonished, and they laughed.

After a time, Harry "fixed" Hermione's trunk, and with an, "Engorgio," her trunk returned to its normal size.

"I would offer to carry that up to your room for you," he said while scratching the back of his neck, "but the stairs would keep me from going up there."

"Right," she said back.

"But, I will teach you a useful spell that is relatively easy," he informed. He then taught her the Locomotor spell, which would be followed by the name of the target object, which in this case would be trunk. He then told her that the trunk would follow her while levitating if the spell was done correctly. She performed it perfectly the first time, and Harry's heart swelled with pride. Maybe he could be a teacher or something similar to that someday. Or maybe Hermione was just naturally good at magic.

She then ascended the stairs to go to her dormitory. When he was sure she was gone, Harry took a second look around to make sure that no one else was in the Common Room. He concentrated on his magic and extended it towards the flames in the fireplace. A small ball of fire procured itself from the rest of the blaze and floated to his palm. It danced in his hand, and he messed around with it for a while, just thinking things over and contemplating the day's events.

He enjoyed Hermione's presence just as much as he liked talking to her, and that was amazing to him. He never thought that he would be able to connect with someone on the level that he had with Hermione on the first day of exposure. He decided that if anyone tried to hurt her, they'd be in a world of hurt themselves.

He next pondered Draco Malfoy. His air of disdain and arrogance were his most potent qualities, and that wasn't really saying anything. If the things he had heard about Draco's father, Lucius, were true, then the son lacked the grace and fortitude of the father by a long shot. He always seemed to have something to say, and none of it was anything intelligent. He also was a stuck-up rich kid, and that alone was bad enough.

Ron Weasley was bad news. He had insulted Hermione from the get-go, and Harry would not put up with it. If anyone wanted to be friends with him, they had to be friends with Hermione too, because she would always come first and he wasn't going to abandon her any time soon. The kid really had an attitude problem and whether he liked it or not, he would soon learn that Harry was not someone to be trifled with. Harry didn't care if it was the easy way or the hard way, as either one would get the point across.

Harry then began changing the colors of the flames with both hands, and unbeknownst to him, Hermione had come back down the stairs and had been watching for a while. She had realized that in her excitement, she had forgotten to say good night to Harry, and had returned downstairs bid him so. But when she had gotten halfway down the stairs, she had stopped, mesmerized, and watched him play with the fire. Her eyes widened in shock when she realized that he wasn't even using a wand. Her mind, for once, drew a blank for an explanation, but she, also for once, decided to leave it for tomorrow. She was tired, he was tired, and she had no idea how much control Harry had over it, so startling him would not be the best idea. She silently crept back up the stairs and into bed, formulating scenarios for the confrontation she by now was dying to have.

Harry, oblivious to Hermione's observations, just simply sat for a while longer until he finally decided to join his year-mates upstairs and went to bed. He entered the circular dorm-room silently, found his bed, and set up his trunk. Each bed was sideways against the wall and had a window that was about a meter long in the wall next to the bed. He mounted the improved version of the Marauder's Map on the wall for when he was not using it. Thankfully, the expertly placed charms would prevent anyone from seeing it unless he wanted them to. He even set up a hook on the wall next to it so that he could hang the Invisibility Cloak, and the same charms had been applied to the hook, which in turn would apply the same effects to whatever was hanging from the hook. Still in silence, he changed into his pajamas, hopped into the four-poster bed, and fell asleep soon after working on his Shields.


A/N:

(1). I decided not to include the song, as I find it to be a little redundant, as it seems like many other stories that either create an AU from year one onwards or go back in time to first year have the song.

This chapter is a tad shorter than normal… but it actually felt natural to end where it did. I hope you guys don't feel gypped.

5325 words in the chapter.

Happy February,

Henry Baxendale