Chapter 7, Part One: The Sorting Hat

"We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately," a voice echoed through the train.

Nervousness touched the entire compartment. They stood up and Blaise looked around with his eyebrows furrowed.

"You go ahead," Harry said reaching into his pocket extracting the screws and the old knife, "I'll take care of this." Hesitantly they left but not without offering help.

"I've repaired more complicated things," Harry said while removing the threads thereby he was able to put the seats down, "I'll be with you in a moment."

When the compartment door closed, Harry put the screws back into place as swiftly as he had removed them a couple of hours earlier. He was almost finished when he heard someone approach. The person tried to be unseen, but they definitely weren't used to secrecy. Harry could sense no danger which was why he didn't look up.

It was the lady from earlier. With a sharp eye she surveyed the compartment, still in the wrong belief that he hadn't heard her.

"As promised, everything is back into place, madam," He looked up and she flinched, obviously not having expected him to notice her presence. What was it with the Others? Didn't they pay attention to their surroundings at all?

He stood up, wished her a nice day, while walking past her with a smile.

To his surprise, the entire group had been waiting not too far away. He joined them and they continued with their conversation that had been about bursts of accidental magic.

Apparently, Neville had been thought to be a squib until he was eight while his brother had started showing first bursts of magic at the age of three (never to mention what had happened when he'd been a year old).

That had to be tough, but Neville just seemed to be glad that he'd been invited to Hogwarts. Harry could relate to that feeling very well.

While Blaise had shown first bursts at four, it had taken Millicent two more years, but having very supportive parents it hadn't been very stressful, but apparently it wasn't a good sign when nothing happened until the age of five.

Squibs were rare, but it was a harsh fate for those who were.

Hermione had been forced to deal with strange happenings when she turned four. Her parents hadn't known what was going on and all of them had been glad when they'd finally had an explanation for Hermione's bursts when she'd been emotionally upset as a child. It had taken some time until the information sunk in, though, especially when her parents had realized that she most likely wouldn't ever go to university.

"But you can acquire Mastership in certain subjects," Millicent chimed in, "They take years, but after graduation at Hogwarts your education doesn't have to be completed. Not necessarily." A piece of information that seemed to delight Hermione.

"What about you, Harry?" The boy with the emerald eyes looked at Theo. The quiet, young boy seemed to have taken a keen interest on him. Whenever he'd opened his mouth to voice a question, it had been directed at him and no one else.

Oh, he'd spoken to the others, but never asked questions. Harry wondered what it was about.

He liked Theo's ways for he seemed rather grown up which wasn't a surprise considering he'd most likely lost his mother.

Judging by the expression in his eyes, he'd lost her years ago.

The raw pain was gone, what was left was a dull ache that would never go away completely. Harry had seen that expression before, dozens of times.

"What do you mean?"

"Accidental magic. When have you started?"

Right. The emotional magic burst thing. He'd had one (apart from those few times he'd nearly let bricks burst when he was agitated). Everything else had been a question of consciousness.

"My magic once saved me when I was around two. Other than that I've never been able to access magic unconsciously."

That statement was followed by complete silence. Harry looked at Theo's frozen face, "You okay? You look a little pale."

"Conscious… What kind?" The question was meant to be asked indifferently, collected. He'd have succeeded, hadn't his voice given away a slight tremor.

"Er… You know, things like… making a flower bloom and… Well, what Neville said about falling… I fell off a rooftop once," he'd been pushed off it, but that was another story, "Unlike Neville I had to slow the fall consciously and then land, it's kind of like imagining yourself as a cat, really. Theo? You sure you're okay? If you were pale before, you look kind of ashen now."

If he was honest, Blaise and Millicent, who'd been overhearing the conversation, looked kind of pale, too. Neville and Hermione looked up from their conversation at the sudden silence.

"Merlin," Blaise muttered, "Harry, well, I've heard of blooming flowers, but the latter... That's impressive. Consciously?"

"Okay, am I missing something?" Harry asked feeling confused, "What's more difficult, conscious or unconscious magic?"

"Conscious, of course," Millicent said looking rather incredulous, "Harry, what do you think Hogwarts is for? So we can control our magic and use it consciously. How can you not know this? You said that you've known about the magical world for quite a while."

'I beg your pardon?' the boy's raised eyebrows clearly stated. So, he'd been doing it right? He'd not expected that. "Yes, I do, but not through wizards or witches. I don't know that much about the magic of wand-carriers. Only what…"

Did he really just say 'wand-carriers'? He'd been spending far too much time with Kertak. Puzzled faces looked back at him.

"It's kind of a long story," Harry said suppressing a wince, "Let's just say that my magical pre-school education cannot be called conventional."

Millicent looked rather dubious, then, she grinned, "Can't wait to hear that story."

Blaise laughed at, Neville looked speechless and curious at the same time, Hermione seemed intrigued and Theo… Theodore observed him as if he was a particularly fascinating plant.

Another compartment door opened and three red-heads left it accompanied by a kid with dreadlocks. Two of the red-heads he already knew.

"Fred, George, nice to see you again," Harry said with a smile. He looked over to the youngest of the group (undoubtedly Fred's and George's brother).

"Oh, hello, mystery boy who can tell us apart," Fred and George said simultaneously. They turned to the younger red-head, "This is Ron, our little brother. It's his first year as well." Harry looked at Ron ('little brother' didn't quite fit for he was quite a bit taller than Harry) and smiled. Ron nodded curtly in return, but Harry didn't think it was impertinence for he held eye-contact for a moment before examining the ground. Char was a bit like that when he met new people. Completely incapable of opening his mouth at first, "And this is Lee Jordan, we're entering our third year at Hogwarts."

"How'd you do?" Lee said in mocking formality and bowed.

Harry tried, he really tried not to laugh, but it was impossible. As soon as he regained control he introduced Hermione, Millicent, Neville, Blaise and Theodore to the rest.

"What was so funny?" Lee asked, a bit puzzled. He'd meant to act a little over the top, but he couldn't figure out for the world why this kid would suddenly have a laughing fit.

"Do yourself a favour? Never ever bow like this in the presence of a goblin."

The grin was wiped off the twins' and Lee's faces.

"Why? What would they do?" They'd all heard of what some goblins were capable of. You didn't have to pay attention in Professor Binn's class to know what they'd done in the past.

"They'd have a really nasty laughing fit." Everybody stared at him, "Seriously. You see, whenever goblins bow it has a meaning. It's about as important as talking itself. I've not even scratched the surface with the things I know. As far as I was told, in times of war bows were used for communication. Usually, that isn't a problem for wa…wizards and witches bow rather differently than goblins, so it means either gibberish or nothing at all. What you 'said' with your bow though was 'Look out' 'dangerous' and 'pixies'. So, yes, they would have a laughing fit. It could be taken as insult, but most goblins are far too clever to take a wizard's bow seriously."

The train slowly came to a stop and Harry was glad about it. He hadn't even arrived at Hogwarts and he was already causing awkward silences.

'Harry, yeh're one o'the best people I know, but strangers, 'specially the Others, can feel slightly intimidated by you.' Until today, Harry had never really thought about it. They didn't seem to be frightened, just stunned.

As they left the train, Fred grinned at the future First Years, "We've got to go that way. See you at the Sorting." he said, then walked alongside his twin brother and Lee towards multiple carriages that seemed to be pulled by… thestrals! Harry nearly shouted it, but was distracted when he heard a familiar voice calling, "Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!" Harry whirled his head around and immediately recognized the gigantic man.

He approached him with a smile.

"All right there, Harry?" The man said crouching down a little so he could meet the young boy's eyes.

"Yes, thanks, Hagrid. How are you?"

"Another school year begins. Nothin' better than that," Hagrid's beard curled into a smile in return. Then he spoke louder, "Any more firs'-years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

They followed Hagrid, constantly slipping and stumbling (Neville refused to let go off Harry's shoulder as they descended). Harry took a glance around.

Everybody looked pale and nervous, Lacius included. Their eyes met and the Boy Who Lived's eyes narrowed when he saw that the impertinent little brat from earlier was steadying his clumsy brother.

That was his job. Since he had enough trouble keeping steady on his feet alone, he decided it wasn't a good idea to point that out, though.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight of Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

What followed, was a loud exclamation of amazement chorused by almost fifty children.

Harry was completely silent. He hadn't exclaimed. He stared at the vast castle atop a high mountain on the other side of the great black lake.

He couldn't speak, even if he wanted to. He'd seen Diagon Alley, he'd been inside the Tosa Lei and had seen Gringott's vaults which were protected by powerful goblin magic. But this school… It was evening and it wasn't very warm for September (he briefly wondered where they were), but Harry felt the warmth of magic wrapping around them like a worried mother putting an extra-layer of clothing around their children.

There was no way this castle was built by four wizards and witches alone, there was too much magic, too many variations. He could swear that there was Elven and goblin magic mingled with it.

Harry wondered how anybody could believe it was the mere deed of wizards and witches. For the first time, he truly understood the derisive tone Kertak sometimes used when it came to wand-carriers.

Despite his dark thoughts, he had to smile. Hogwarts wouldn't provide him shelter. She'd give him a home.

"No more'n four to a boat," Hagrid's deep voice shook him out of his musings and he noticed the little fleet of small boats sitting in the water by the shore.

Harry stiffened. He couldn't swim.

Not a big surprise for a kid of London's streets, but right now he realized the inconvenience of it. If he fell into that water…

It was cold and dark and deep.

Involuntarily, he took a step back bumping into Ron who looked at him.

"You okay?"

"Fine," he managed to say, but he sounded hoarse, his eyes quickly surveyed the water. He was so absorbed by what was ahead of him, he flinched horribly when he felt a stranger's hand on his shoulder.

He exhaled in relief when he noticed, it was Blaise. He'd almost…

"Come," Blaise said softly. He knew that Harry came from an orphanage in London. It was only logical that he never learnt to swim.

Hagrid's 'No more'n four to a boat!' left Blaise with a bit of a conflict.

Theodore, Hermione and Millicent already sat in a boat, Blaise of course, had meant to stay with his best friend and cousin, but felt bad about leaving Harry alone.

Harry noticed that of course, "Go," he still sounded hoarse, "I'll manage. Go on! Maybe you can corrupt Hermione to become a Slytherin." He grinned a little, his troubled eyes displaying the faint impression of mischief. Blaise laughed in return and followed Harry's words.

Neville (who'd earlier been supported by Harry) and Ron led the shorter kid into another boat. The moment Harry entered it, though (with knees that felt rather unsteady) two boys that weren't Ron or Neville entered it so forcefully, it started to become unsteady (even less steady than boats generally were) and Harry closed his eyes in fear holding unto the wooden boat as his life depended on it. His fingers turned almost as white as his face.

"What is it, mate?" A boy with an Irish accent asked him, "You look pale."

"For Merlin's sake," Ron cursed under his breath wondering for a moment how anyone could not notice that Harry seemed to panic at the thought of even getting close to deep water. Quickly, he moved forward thereby causing his knees and all layers of clothing and shoes up to that part of anatomy to become soaking wet and tore the boat back to shore. He gestured Neville to jump in, who merely looked at him wide-eyed, "He's just met me. We haven't exchanged more than a short greeting with each other. He's met you on the Hogwarts train. I'm pretty sure he'll prefer your company."

"That's not necessary, let's find a boat for the three of us," a voice beside him said, much more calmly than its owner had looked seconds earlier. Ron and Neville both flinched.

That kid moved like a bloody ghost! Fortunately, they did find a boat that was only occupied by one child. The all three of them entered.

Harry tensed again, completely unable to speak. So it was Neville who introduced them. The girl's name was Lisa Turpin.

As Hagrid ordered the little fleet of boats to move, Harry couldn't bring himself to open his eyes again. Not even to take another look at the amazing castle.

He hated deep waters… He hated them so much for he was completely powerless when it came to them. A few minutes of children expressing their amazement passed, while Harry simply tried to be unseen. But there was not shadow, nothing to slip into, not in a confined place like a boat on a lake.

"Heads down!" Hagrid yelled and Harry opened his eyes all of a sudden. The cliffs were coming closer and Harry did as Hagrid told bending his head together with the rest of the First Years as they were carried through a curtain of ivy which hid a wide opening in the cliff face.

Underneath the castle, there was a harbour. Undoubtedly, Harry was one of the first on solid ground, though their boat hadn't arrived first.

"Yeh're alright, Harry?" Hagrid asked looking a little worried.

"Yes, just can't … I don't like boats very much," Harry explained. Hagrid looked at him kindly before he started checking whether everybody was accounted for.

Theo, Hermione, Millicent and Blaise joined them as soon as the all of them were out of the boats. Harry glanced down at Ron's soaking wet boots. Before he could say anything about it, Hagrid told them to follow him.

As they crowded in front of a huge, oak front door, the gigantic wizard knocked three times.

Minerva McGonagall, having awaited the cue, swung the door open. With a quick glance she surveyed the new group of First Years…

Another Weasley (Oh, please, let him not be as much of a troublemaker as the older twins!)

Ah, Miss Granger, Mr Thomas, Mr Finch-Fletchley, all the Muggleborns she'd introduced to the Magical World.

There he was, Lacius Longbottom (he could not be mistaken for the scar on his forehead was unique in itself) talking to a girl she didn't know. Not afar from him was young Mr Malfoy. He looked like a much younger version of his father.

She'd taught him, too and briefly wondered whether the son was just as conceited yet highly adept the way his father was before him.

Speaking of genetics and aptitude…

She wondered how talented he was at transfiguration. His father had been a unique talent, incredibly smart too. She managed not to let her stern mask slip, but, in the name of Merlin, what had the boy done to his glasses?

They were gone!

Lily's eyes stared back at her, unhindered, with that same careful smile she'd worn the first evening at Hogwarts.

She'd have to tell Severus as soon as possible. She'd heard things shatter in Albus' office when he'd told the younger man that Harry Potter was still alive.

She wasn't that cruel and let him deal with Lily's eyes without warning.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door s open and brought them to the small chamber off the hall where she held her traditional speech concerning the Sorting. When she saw Mr Weasley grow paler and paler she wondered, what in the name of Merlin, his brothers had told him.

As she left again, she quickly took another corridor that would lead her to the entrance into the Great Hall, but not through the main entrance. She opened the door that was close to the staff table, entered, approached the headmaster and quietly told him that the children were here. He nodded, his eyes glimmering the way they always did when another school year was about to start.

She was about to leave again, when she suddenly halted and turned back to Albus, "Harry's not wearing glasses anymore." She took a quick glance at Severus and turned around hoping that her old friend would be preparing the Potions Master.

As she walked back, she noticed that the ghosts just left the room again. They had so much fun doing this.

Every year.

She'd been a First Year herself as they did it, Albus confirmed that it hadn't been different in his first year, either.

That casual appearance ('Oh, new students?'), as if they didn't know exactly what day it was and that this room was reserved for the First Years. However, they were as much part of the Sorting ceremony as the Sorting itself.

They all looked terrified as she led them to the Great Hall. They always did.

She remembered how nervous she'd been herself when she'd had to walk through the hall past all these older children… She'd nearly laughed at the Hat when he'd told her that she was courageous.

She took a glance back and saw that many children's jaws had dropped. Well, whose hadn't when they'd seen the Great Hall for the first time? As she placed the traditional four-legged stool in front of the First Years, she quickly got their attention again.

As the hat sung his new song she surveyed them once again before she unrolled her scroll and started to call the names.

"What house do you want to be in?" Ron asked Neville and Harry. ("Brown, Lavendar" became the new Gryffindor). Neville spoke his choice, but cut off immediately when he heard 'Bulstrode, Millicent.'

Pale as death, Millicent approached the hat and put it on.

"SLYTHERIN!" Harry clapped his hands with a smile. She'd hoped so much for that house.

When 'Finnegan, Seamus' was called upon the platform, Harry recognized him to be the kid who'd asked him what was wrong when he'd nearly panicked on that boat.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Ah, the House of bravery.

"Granger, Hermione!"

It took a moment before the hat decided where to put her, before it screamed, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Quickly, he glanced over at the Slytherin table where Millicent clapped her hands, unlike anybody near her.

Harry looked up in surprise when he heard the name Malfoy and somehow didn't doubt a relation to the man he'd met at Gringotts. If his experience with rich, influential people was anything to go by, he would be just as insufferable as his father.

It took another few names, then, Professor McGonagall said, "Longbottom, Lacius."

At first, there was silence before whispers started to fill the hall.

Lacius, a bit paler than he'd looked this morning, sat on the stool and put on the hat. For a moment, nothing happened.

Everybody watched. Then Harry could see Lacius argue with the hat and wondered what was going on.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat screamed and Ron grabbed his arm, "Have you seen that? Lacius Longbottom's in Gryffindor! That's fantastic! My entire family was there. Merlin, I hope I'll be there, too." Harry couldn't very well say that he couldn't care less about the house Lacius had been chosen to.

He felt a little bad for Neville who'd been called next.

It took a long while before the hat decided and the orphan didn't know what to hope for his new-found friend: family tradition or distance to his famous brother.

"GRYFFINDOR!" Neville ran off still wearing the hat and had to bring it back, his face red with shame. Lacius looked furious.

As Theo was called and placed into Slytherin, Harry suddenly realized how the people he'd met started to split up. He merely hoped they wouldn't split apart over that.

"Hey," Blaise, who'd been giving applause to Theo's place in Slytherin, whispered, "Remember? It doesn't matter. Not that much."

When Harry looked at the four separate tables, he was afraid that it did matter.

It mattered a great deal.

He must have said it aloud for he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder (It was strange that it had already become familiar, after all it was only the second time).

"We'll make it work," the tall boy said confidently, "You made that compartment fit for the six of us. We'll simply do the same with Hogwarts."

Harry smiled, but it was wiped off his face, when he heard, "Potter, Harry!"

He stepped forward and was glad the stool was there for he was too nervous to stand.

As he put on the hat, he heard a small voice in his ear, "Hmm. Difficult. Very difficult. My goodness, boy, what you've seen, most would not in a lifetime," oh, he'd heard that one before, "They all would've fought for you, but Rowena and Salazar would've stepped away for though you have a good mind, it isn't your ambition to become the greatest, is it? But you do want to make your family proud… Hm, courage, hard work and loyalty above all else, though. Godric would've found quite an adversary in Helga for she would have fought tooth and nail to get you. Tell me… A friend is wounded, the battle ahead. Would you retreat to heal or head for combat?" Harry rose his eyebrows at the question, "I don't care about fights, I prefer not to have them."

"So shall it be… HUFFLEPUFF! Go, little badger with a lions' heart … Oh, the all of you shall see."

Harry took off the hat, looked back at Blaise and Ron, who seemed a bit stunned. However, both of them started clapping their hands as Harry walked towards the Hufflepuff table. Hermione and Neville both winked at him and gave heart-felt applause, so did Theo and Millicent from the other side of the room. Relived and unable to keep himself from grinning, he sat down at one of the empty seats.

"Don't I know you?" An older student asked whom Harry recognized as the boy who'd wanted to help him at King's Cross.

Harry grinned, "'Know' would be slightly exaggerated, Cedric, for you didn't manage to catch me."

"How do you know my name?" Astonished, grey eyes observed him.

"'You want to be unseen, become invisible… Or stay out of the bloody light.' It's a rule I grew up with. First lesson to secrecy is to stick to shadows."

He wanted to say more, but it was Ron's turn. As he'd hoped, he was in Gryffindor. Quickly he ran to the table, sat in between his brothers (there was fourth red-head who seemed to be another… Weasley. He'd just heard it, their family name was Weasley) and Neville. Hermione sat on the other side of the table. Lacius was a few seats away from them talking to Seamus Finnegan and a boy called Dean Thomas.

"Zabini, Blaise!"

Harry looked up again and glanced over to the Slytherin table where Millicent had both of her fingers crossed.

"SLYTHERIN!" Millicent had already jumped up at 'Slyth-' and was on her way to hug her 'brother' when a stern-looking girl with a badge on her chest caught her. Her demeanour reminded him of Alex.

Blaise quickly approached Millicent and they hugged. It all happened so quickly, Harry was sure he was the only person who'd seen it.

After the deputy headmistress removed hat and stool, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet. His arms were opened wide and he was beaming at them with an expression indicating that there was nothing more pleasing than seeing the.

"Welcome!" he said, "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

"Thank you!"

As the room started clapping and cheering, Harry shook his head deeply amused. There was a thin line between brilliance and madness, but the headmaster enjoyed making fun of that line as it seemed.

Harry's mouth fell open when the dishes arrived. Never had he seen so much food… The orphanage could live off this mountain of food for an entire month!

He definitely wouldn't starve here.

Carefully he took some potatoes, meat and fresh vegetables for the latter two he couldn't eat regularly at St Mary's due to prizes. He wouldn't be able to it this much at first. His stomach wouldn't take it well.

As he ate, he longingly looked from one side of the room to the other.

"Everything okay?"

"I guess," Harry murmured at Cedric's question, "It's just… We've met a few hours ago, and the group is already confined into three separate places… Do you have a lot of friends outside of Hufflepuff?"

"Not that many, but you'll get to meet the others enough." Harry had to suppress a laugh at the choice of words.

The others… An 'Other' was explaining him about the others whom he'd chosen as potential friends.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley," a boy, who was facing him, introduced himself. Harry caught his gaze and gave his name freely as well. By that, the entire Hufflepuff table introduced itself and Harry couldn't help but smile.

He'd find friends here… Their welcome was heart-felt and their delight honest. It was just hard that the first friends he'd chosen couldn't be with him at dinner.

As Justin explained that he was a Muggleborn who'd almost gotten a place at Eton (Harry's eyes had widened at that. His pitiful writing skills had led to the point his teachers didn't even let him apply to that school.) and that his mother hadn't been too thrilled at first, Harry suddenly felt eyes surveying him.

He snapped his head around and glimpsed back at the Staff Table. A hooked-nosed teacher with greasy, black hair and sallow skin was watching him.

Their eyes met and Harry had the urge to run.

That was a person he had not intention to meddle with.

Not that he was a person like Sullivan, not at all. Well, not even Sullivan had looked like Sullivan, at first. However, Harry would bet on his life that this tall man wasn't anything like the man who'd made four years of life literal hell.

He didn't want to run because of that.

The wizard who sat only a few seats away from Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore was another type of man.

That person who always was one step ahead of you. He would grab your wrist before you could reach into his pocket, and yet you could've sworn he'd never seen it coming.

Those dark eyes (from the distance they looked cold and black, not unlike the lake they'd just crossed) told him this.

He would grab your wrist and you would tear your arm back trying to flee, but he simply wouldn't let you go. But as soon as you relax into the grip (when it was clear you wouldn't spin back from the pulling force you used), he'd release you and without saying a single word warning you never to do such a foolish thing again.

Harry was a good pick-pocket if the need arose though he tried everything else first, but even to the best these scenarios happened and they always left you with a racing heart and a reluctance to try it again.

Why was he still looking at him? Harry had no intention for a power play. He'd had his fair share of stupid decisions when it came to adult authority (Sister Augustine had never seen him rebellious for she'd always been very kind to them), Sullivan could sing a song about that… He didn't have the slightest intention to make his first adult enemy before the first lesson started. Not as long as nobody of his friends was in trouble.

He broke eye-contact and surveyed the rest of the table while Cedric and Linda Felices (Hufflepuff's Fifth Year prefect) told him the teachers' and their subjects' name.

Of course, it was his luck that this man would teach Potions! What else had he expected? Before he could dwell on it too much, he heard his Head of House's name.

At the name 'Flitwick' he started.

Flitwick? That was goblin kin. How was that possible? 'flitca' meant 'mountains' while 'wicka' meant 'low.' Professor Flitwick's family clan (closely related kin) originally came from the High Ground, as kin from the Cambrian Mountains was called. Kertak would not only be able to say the geographic origin but would most likely be able to state their position in goblin society, simply by some sort of code that was hidden in every goblin clan name.

He couldn't wait to go to this man's classes.

As his eyes flew past Professor Snape once again, he noticed his neighbour wondering how come he hadn't noticed him before.

The man wore a turban and his name was, according to Cedric, Professor Quirrell.

A chill went down Harry's spine and he suppressed a shiver. For a moment he wondered what the heck just happened, when he nearly cried out in agony as his lower abdomen started cramp. He grabbed the table with one hand, clenched his hand at the hurting part of his stomach and breathed heavily forcing himself not to scream.


A/N: Wow... WOW! All I can say to this. TWENTY-ONE reviews? That is... wow. Thank you all and I'm sorry for not having replied them all, but I was sick and couldn't find the energy for it... Anyway, be assured that I read them all...

Thank you! You kind of terrified me with the replies, but in a good way... I hope you'll continue follow me on Harry's alternative journey.

Don't stop reviewing now that they've finally arrived at Hogwarts!