Discalimer: I do not own Harry Potter, no matter how much I wish I did
Chapter Nine: Griffin, Badger, Raven and Snake
Harry moved his way down, looking for an open compartment. The train gave a sudden lurch, and Harry looked out the window to try and find Snape. He was slightly disappointed to find he had left already.
Harry returned to the task at hand, and wandered down the hallway between compartments. He finally found one not occupied and set about putting his things away. He had just set Wendelin's cage down when the compartment door opened again.
Harry looked around and found himself face to face with the red haired boy from Madam Malkin's.
"Don't mind if I sit in here, do you? Everywhere else is full up."
Harry nodded and the boy sat down.
"I saw you in the robe shop," said the red haired boy, who Harry remembered to be Ron Weasley. Harry nodded. "I don't think I caught your whole name," said Ron, and Harry obliged him.
"You aren't really?" he ask, staring at Harry as though he'd started sprouting tentacles. His eyes landed on Harry's forehead. "You are!" he said excitedly. Harry felt hot under the collar.
"I don't like people gawking," he said with a little more venom then he'd intended. Ron nodded as though he understood, but didn't stop. He was starting to get on Harry's nerves.
"Do you know what house you'll be in?" Harry asked, to change the subject.
"Oh, that's easy," said Ron. "Gryffindor. All my family has been. They might chuck me out if I'm not." He seemed to be dead serious, but Harry snorted.
"Awful stupid reason to chuck someone out, if you ask me," he said, and Ron's ears went slightly scarlet.
"Well, go on. What house are you going to be in?" he asked, scratching his nose. There was some stubborn dirt there.
"I dunno, do I?" said Harry. "I'll find out when I get there." He shrugged as if that settled the manor. Ron shook his head.
"If I'd ended up in Slytherin, I'd just leave." Ron said all of this while staring out the window, as though the thought made him want to jump off the train already.
"Each house has it's good points," said Harry, coolly. Ron was really starting to irk him.
It was Ron's turn to snort. "What kind of good points do Slytherins have? Bunch of cheating cowards."
Harry restrained himself from physically attacking Ron. Really, how much of a prat could you be? "They are loyal, and stick together. They aren't cheaters, they are cunning." He said all of this through tightly clenched teeth. He didn't want to hear a bad word against the house over which his first magical contact presided.
Ron shrugged. "Gryffindors are loyal. Slytherins are in it for their own skins, ain't they." he seemed to be talking as though Harry didn't have a different opinion.
Harry didn't respond, because he didn't trust himself to. Being set in one's ways was one thing, but being judgmental and close-minded was another, and one he simply didn't abide by.
The silence persisted until the lunch trolley arrived. Harry examined everything with interest, while Ron muttered something about having food already. Harry got a bit of everything, and sat down with his haul.
Ron stared dejectedly at his sandwiches, and Harry's better nature got the best of him. He divided up his pile and gave some to Ron, trying to not be the bad guy.
Ron looked on the verge of pushing the candies away, but instead muttered a word of thanks, and dove in.
Harry ate a few Berty Bott's Every Flavor Beans, before deciding the risk was too great, and he gave up. He then moved onto a Chocolate Frog and was caught by surprise when it lept out of it's wrapper and onto the seat. Harry grabbed it quickly, but it didn't jump again.
As he ate the chocolate, a card in the bottom of the wrapper caught his attention and his examined it closely. A wizened old man was staring up at him, scratching the side of his nose, and smiling lightly.
"So this is Albus Dumbledore?" he asked to himself. Ron nodded.
"Yeah, he's the headmaster at Hogwarts. Or didn't you know?"
Harry was beginning to regret sharing his food with the boy. "I knew, thank you," he snipped. "Severus told me."
Ron looked aghast. "Not that bat in Diagon Alley? He was with you?"
Harry looked up from his card sharply. "I'd recommend you find somewhere else to sit, if you know what's good for you," he said cooly. Ron looked taken aback.
Just then a distraction arrived in the form of a bushy-haired girl who opened the compartment door without asking. "Oh, hello. Has either of you two seen a toad? Some boy, Nevile, said he lost his." She looked back and forth at them for a moment, and when neither of them said anything, she prompted, "Are you going to do magic? Let's see then."
I was then Harry realized he'd had his wand out and pointed loosely at Ron. Ron noticed this as well, and collected his things. "I don't think I want to be here any more," he said, as though it were his choice and not Harry's ultimatum.
Ron bustled out in search of a different compartment. "What was that about?" asked the bushy-haired girl, who took his spot. "You'll get in trouble doing that, you know."
Harry shrugged. "He was a bit of a git, really, so I don't think I care much."
The girl nodded knowingly. "I'm Hermione, by the way. Hermione Granger." Harry took her outstretched hand.
"Harry Potter," said Harry, lackluster. Hermione's eyes shot to his scar. "I'd rather you don't stare, and don't prattle on about it," said Harry in a tired voice. Celebrity was growing thin to him.
Hermione looked affronted. "I wasn't going to," she said, waspishly.
"Sorry," said Harry, and he meant it. "Just still angry with that ponce back there." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction Ron had left. Hermione nodded again.
"What was all that about, anyway?" Hermione asked .
"Seemed to think he was better than everyone. Or, at least, the Slytherins." Hermione nodded. Harry wished she'd stop doing that.
"Well, most people don't like Slytherins. Some really bad witches and wizards came from Slytherin, you know? You-Know-Who did, even." That took Harry off his guard, but he quickly recovered.
"Not all of them are evil, I bet." Of course, he had no real idea. Hermione shrugged.
"I'd best be off, I promised to help Nevile look for his toad." She stood up and left without further ado.
Harry spent the rest of the ride in contemplative silence.
As the train ride worn on, Harry decided it was time to get dressed, so he pulled his robes from his trunk. As he pulled them over his head, he wondered if he could get some like Snape's that billowed when he walked. It certainly made for an impressive figure.
Night was already set by the time he'd come to the conclusion that it didn't matter about houses and all that. Going to a school for wizards and witches was more than he could have ever hoped for. Well, aside from some parents.
The train slowed to a stop, and a voice told him to leave his things on the train, and that they would be taken to the school for him. He hesitated at leaving Wendelin behind, but decided that she was in safe hands.
He pocketed his wand, which fit much better in the roomy robes pockets than it did in his muggle jeans.
Harry joined the throng outside of his compartment, and followed it outside. It was a blessed relief to stand up and move about, as he hadn't done such since the trolley had arrived. He felt slightly sleepy from inactivity and from having been up since two in the morning, awaiting Snape.
The cold night air woke him up greatly. The sense of excitement in the air was tangible, and Harry found himself caught up in it. His heart felt like a fluttering bird trying to escape his throat as the thought 'I'm going to Wizard School' kept passing through his mind at high speed.
A familiar voice called over the din. "Firs' years, over 'ere!" called the giant of a man, Hagrid. He wasn't hard to spot, even with how dark it was. He followed the sound of his voice until he nearly collided with him. "All righ' there, 'Arry?" asked Hagrid, and Harry nodded enthusiastically.
Hagrid gave one more bellow of "Firs' years, over 'ere," before leading them away from the other students to what looked to be the shore of a great glassy lake.
"No more 'en four ter a boat, now," Hagrid said as they piled into small wooden boats by the edge of the lake.
Harry found himself with the boy he'd heard about, Nevile Longbottom, another boy named Seamus Finnigan, and the girl Hermione Granger.
Once they were all seated comfortably, the boats started off across the lake on their own. Harry watched the other boats around him. Their occupants looked as excited as he felt. He turned to face forward just as they came out from under a wall of ivy and had his breath stole from him.
It had been taken away by a gasp he could not stop. The sight before him was beyond amazing. A giant castle, each window with a bright light, silhouetted against the dark night sky, so one could only make out it's vast size by the lay-out of pin-prick lights.
The other students began to chatter excitedly to one another, but Harry couldn't move his eyes from the castle.
Soon they were entering a little alcove by the side of the castle, and they exited the boats. "'Ere they are, Professor McGonagall. All safe an' soun'." Harry turned his attention to the woman Hagrid was addressing and thought he would be hard pressed to find a more severe looking woman. Even Mrs. Cole on a bad day wasn't as tight-lipped looking.
She gave a short speech about the houses in turn, during which Harry let his attention wander around the antechamber they were in. He'd heard most of this from Severus during their trip to Diagon Alley. The only new thing was the points system.
She led them into an even bigger room which was more brightly lit, and instructed them to wait until she returned for them. Harry was beginning to feel antsy. He was glad he wasn't alone in his feelings.
A sudden shriek came from one of the girls in the back of the group, as what appeared to be a dozen or so real ghosts floated through the wall behind them. They were having a rather animated discussion.
They finally turned their attention and smiled warmly at the group. "Hello there," said the ghost of a man with a large ruffle around his neck. "Waiting to be sorted, then?" There were a few nervous nods.
"Well," said the ghost, as though sizing them up. "I hope some of you find your way into Gryffendor. I'm the house ghost, you know." This statement was met with many blank looks, and the ghost gave up trying to impress them. He rejoined the group that had continued to talk about someone named Peeves, and McGonagall returned.
"They're ready for you," she said, and motioned them through the wide double doors through which she had come.
The amazement, it seemed, was just getting started. The giant hall was lit only by candles, which floated, unsupported, in the middle of the air above the four long tables. The most remarkable thing, though, was the ceiling, which seemed to not even be there, simply opening up to the stars above.
"It's enchanted to look like the sky," said Hermione in a carrying whisper.
Harry kept himself in the middle of the group. They made their way between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. In front of them, McGonagall sat a stool with a ragged hat on it. No one seemed to think this was odd, so he kept his eyes on it. Suddenly a rip near the base opened wide like a mouth, and the hat sang.
Gather 'round, children
And listen to my song
Then I shall sort you in
I promise to not take long
I was made and here I sit
For all of you to see
My mouth, though just a slit
Will tell you where you aught to be
Should you be in Griffendor
Where live the pure of heart
Or perhaps in Ravenclaw
If you are dreadf'lly smart
Should you go to Slytherin
The home of the cunning
Or how about Hufflepuff
Where hard work is the most stunning
I'll sort you right
Just you see
No need for plight
There's no smarter hat than me!
The tables on either side of them broke into applause, and Harry did the same. He'd certainly never seen a hat do that, but, he suspected, he'd see a great many things he'd never seen before before the year was up.
After the clapping had died down, McGonagall pulled out a scroll of parchment. "When I call your names, please come up and put the sorting hat on your head. Once you have been sorted, please join your house table."
The sorting went slowly, but Harry didn't care. He was having the time of his life, and he didn't want to be center stage. After one Pavarti Patil became a Gryffendor, it was Harry's turn.
There was a sound like a hornets nest being disturbed as he walked up to the stool. The hat fell right down bellow his eyes. He pulled it up over them to look around the crowd. After a brief chat with the sorting hat, it opened the rip above it's brim wide, and shouted out:
AN: Yes, I'm an evil bastard, but I have fun. I guess I'll stick with this format. See you next chapter, kiddies. Also, as for the missed capitalization of names, Harry's is my biggest problem. My shift + H does not like to work, and I have to make a conscious effort to get it right, and it'll throw me outta the loop for a few moments until I get my rhythm back. Anyway, enough prattling. Cheers.
