You're a protagonist Harry

Chapter 08 – I don't think we're in Kansas anymore Toto
…

It was nearly dark when the train arrived at the station, and fully dark by the time everyone was off. The shift in ambient light, while good for changing the mood, was of little interest to some.

"And there's an actual game you play with these?"

"Oh yeah! I've been collecting since I was ten. Played my first tournament when I was twelve. Didn't win but I learned a lot and I've been getting better ever since."

"Wicked!"

With every chocolate frog, that hoppy little magical treat, the one his griffinette got before it could escape, there was a trading card. A card for a game that he was just learning about.

"It was great marketing," Ron went on. "The cards that come from the chocolate frogs can't be found in any other booster. They aren't all great, but I haven't found any that were bad. I've got like eight of that Dumbledore you got."

But Harry didn't, and even if he never played, it was still cool.

"This Pegasus guy that came up with it must be filthy rich," Harry opined.

"Richest wizard on either side," Ron confirmed, while unknowingly raising another question Harry had yet to find an answer for.

"First year's over here!"

But it would have to wait as a great booming voice broke over the gaggle of gawking teens.

Holding a lantern over his head he stood like a light post, high over everyone and everything around him.

Harry smiled as the tide of bodies moved in the direction of the heavily bearded nine-foot man. "That must be Hagrid."

"Down to the lake now. Four to a boat, no more. That's it. Come along everyone."

"Hagrid!"

The big man stopped what he was doing, though the flow of bodies around him kept moving, "Who's askin?" he said suspiciously, squinting black beetle eyes nearly hidden beneath his great bushy brow.

"Down here."

He adjusted his gaze in the negative vertical, stopping on the green-eyed teenager with the messy black hair waving at him. "Well now, if you ain't just the spittin image," he said.

"You know me?"

"Well, you was a bit smaller last time I saw ye," he said, a bit flustered. "Sorry I couldn't come pick ye up myself but…"

"I know," said Harry, waving off the apology, "Fluffy."

"Ah, told ya bout that did ee? Ow was Abner, ee treat ya well?"

"No complaints," not about Abner anyway. "Oh! Now that I'm thinking about it. He asked me to pass this along to you."

Fishing the folded bit of parchment from his pocket he placed it in the massive mitt of the giant man.

"You read this?" he asked as he unfolded the note.

"Nope. A good messenger doesn't peek at the package," Harry said, drawing a grin from the big, bearded man.

"He told you that too, did ee?"

"Just full of excellent life advice," Harry grinned back.

Only glancing at his missive, he realized they'd been left behind and hurried Harry along to the boats. Ron waved from one with a single seat left, the other two being taken up by a dark-skinned boy and a pale fellow Harry thought was probably Irish.

"Cast off!"

At Hagrid's command the boats left their moorings and gently floated out onto the water. Alone in his boat Hagrid took the lead with the others following behind like ducklings behind a mother duck; a big, hairy, mother duck.

"Where's he taking us?" the dark-skinned boy voiced the question many of them were thinking.

"The gate that leads to the other side," said a hushed yet still overexcited voice from two boats up.

All eyes within hearing distance turned to the bushy-haired girl who, finding herself the center of attention, blushed so hard she seemed to glow.

Chuckling quietly, Harry averted his gaze and turned it outward across the tranquil black water all the way to the far shore… "What is that?"

A form, barely distinct in the dark, stood at the edge of the water. It was four-legged, canine he thought, and covered in shaggy black fur that seemed to soak in the pale moonlight like a hungry sponge.

"Look! There it is!" someone said, drawing Harry's attention for the half a moment it took the shadowy beast on the far shore to disappear.

"Hn, odd," he mumbled, but hadn't time to think on it.

The gate, as the bushy-haired girl had called it, appeared as a cascade of light and fog rolling across the water. Startled shouts and excited exclamations echoed as they were swallowed in the swirl of smoke and color. Only the booming voice of Hagrid reassured them all was well.

"Don't fall outta yur boat!" he bellowed. "Don't be wantin to fish ye outta the lake this time o night."

"There's a comforting thought," Harry quipped to a light chuckling from his shipmates.

"At least he didn't say he wouldn't fish us out," added the Irishman.

Further quips were cut short when the fog cleared and, "Bloody hell!" they got their first look at Hogwarts.

"Whoa!" There was no question it was the most amazing thing he'd seen in his life. Oh, teenage cynicism, where art thou now? Staring gob smacked at the majestic magical castle before them, along with everyone else.

Seven towers rose from behind the walls, four from the corners of the main keep and three others from places along the outer wall. As they moved across the lake, another towerish structure came into view, further back, appearing to be separate from the castle.

"What's that far one then?" Ron wondered aloud… very loud.

"That's the Necro tower," Hermione explained automatically. "It's where they keep the spirit wards that manage the ghosts and other spiritual anomalies in Hogwarts."

"How does she know all this?" Ron whispered, trying not to set off the answer machine with the bushy hair.

Harry didn't know, but he knew how to find out. "Hey, Granger!"

The girl in question hopped in her seat, startled, "What?"

"How do you know all this?"

"It was in one of the books I got when I picked up my school supplies," she said. "Hogwarts, a History."

Harry nodded then turned back to his seatmate, "That's how."

"Gee, thanks Harry. I never would have thought to do that," the ginger said with a sardonic look.

Harry replied with a grin, "You're welcome."

The boats floated under the wall and came to a stop at a small underground dock.

"Alright, everyone out!" the big man bellowed, hopping from his own boat and landing with an ominous creak.

Less sprightly, the assembled first years disembarked and followed their massive guide up the steps and into the castle proper. The hall within was lined with suits of armor and wall mounted sconces casting an eerie glow on the evening's proceedings.

They were met just inside the castle by an old woman with a severe scowl carved into an equally severe face.

"Professor McGonagall," the big man greeted. "The first-year students."

The two shared a nod and the big man swaggered off, leaving the group of fourteen-year old's with the even older witch who looked like she'd been carved out of an old piece of driftwood… angry driftwood.

"Follow me," she said without preamble, and began a hard, swift march down the hall.

Stopping before a pair of massive double doors, "All of you wait here. I shall return for you momentarily so that you may be sorted into your houses," she said sternly. "While you are here, your house will be like your family. Accomplishments will earn your house points; any 'rule breaking' will lose your house points. All points are recorded in the ledger, so your housemates will be able to see if you've been damaging the houses reputation. I suggest, you don't."

With that warning, she disappeared inside, leaving the group to wait; and as often happens when a bunch of strangers are left alone together, they started talking. Boasting even.

"So, you ready to wrestle that troll Ron?"

"I'll take the left leg and you take the right, kay Harry."

Several of the other students looked at them like they were mad, none suspecting how right they were, but one latched onto the name Harry, "Harry? Harry Potter?"

Swaggering from the mass of bodies the speaker approached, bookended by a pair of large, apish looking boys. The superior sneer looked well-rehearsed and the hair, silken smooth, gleamed in the torch light.

"You're Harry Potter."

Harry sighed, he'd been hoping to avoid this, "Looks like the jig is up. Yes, I am Harry Potter."

As he'd expected, the murmuring began, and the staring. Even Ron was looking at him in surprise. The blonde with the way too nice hair looked pleased.

"They said you were going to Hogwarts."

"They would know, I guess," whoever 'they' were.

"This is Crabbe and Goyle, and I'm Malfoy," introductions made. "You'll soon find some wizarding families are better than others. Wouldn't do for you to go mixing with the wrong sort," and a very clear look was shot at the ginger next to him, "I can help you with that."

A hand was extended, and Harry looked at it a moment, processing all the available information and coming to the most likely conclusion. Placing his hands on the blonde's shoulders, staring deeply into stunning blue eyes, "Look love, you seem really sweet, but I just don't think we'd work together."

The hall was dead silent, and before that sarcastic cricket could start up, McGonagall returned. "Two straight rows. Follow me."

The authority exerted in those few words sent everyone scurrying to obey and they followed the severe witch into a massive hall. OO's and AH's were to be expected from the spectacle of the night sky overhead, though as Granger pointed out it wasn't really the night sky, just a spell.

This was of minor interest to some, like Ron, "Why didn't you tell me you were Harry Potter?"

"I didn't think it was important," and he'd seen how people reacted when he did tell them. Honestly, it got quite tiresome after a while.

"What was with you and Malfoy back there?"

Harry gave his new friend an indulgent smile, "Just gotta let'em down gently Ron. Girls are sensitive creatures you know."

"Malfoy's a guy."

"Ha! Very funny Ron."

"No, seriously."

He did look very serious.

"Huh? Wha… no, no that's not, no. You saw that face, that hair. I've seen femme guys before, but I'm telling you, ain't no boy that pretty."

They might have gone on arguing but at that moment they arrived at the front of the hall and were spread out before the table full of adults. Had to be adults since they were the only ones not wearing the exact same outfit as everyone else.

Those were for later though. From an old hat box, McGonagall produced an even older looking wizards' hat, so folded and creased it almost looked to have a face on it. This was not by chance, as they learned when she placed it on a small stool and the hat animated, shaking itself, blinking, then looking at those assembled before it.

"Whoa!" said someone far too easily impressed.

So it could move, so what. Even Harry who was new to magic had seen more impressive things than this.

Then it started to sing.

"Bestiality may be a fun thing to do, but I have a warning to say unto you. With almost all animals you will have a ball, but the Hedgehog can never be bugguuuuuuugh…"

"Dammit Pomona!" McGonagall screeched as she tried to hold down the singing topper.

"Oh come on Minnie! Let him finish!" a plump, jolly looking witch at the head table cackled.

She didn't of course, more's the pity, and after a few hushed words the hat settled down and McGonagall got off.

"You're no fun at all, you know that," it said petulantly.

The hats remark was summarily ignored, "When I call your name, come up, and the 'hat' will sort you into your house."

"Never heard anyone say 'hat' like it was a curse word," Ron mumbled.

"Abbot, Hanna!"

The aforenamed girl jumped a little, meekly approaching the obscenely singing, and equally obscenely leering hat. She cringed when it was placed on her head, a brilliant smile blooming when it was removed upon the declaration "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"And the first one of the year goes to the puff's," Ron commentated.

"Who shall our next victim… I mean, contestant, be," Harry quipped, taking up the spirit of the thing as those around them chuckled quietly.

"Bones, Susan."

"Well ello, ello!" said Ron.

"Now there's a girl with a nice, uh, personality," Harry agreed, as did every other boy in line.

"Oh honestly," one of the not boys opined. I'll give ya three guesses as to which one.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Ah, alas, fair Susan, we hardly knew thee," Harry lamented as the well-rounded Miss Bones scuttled off to the Hufflepuff table.

"Not so bad," said Ron. "You can always slum it with a Hufflepuff."

"Uh, I don't know if I'd talk about 'slumming' with a Hufflepuff if I were you," said Harry, jerking a nod over his shoulder where Ron quickly discovered several angry looking older Hufflepuff's glaring at him.

"Uh, hehe, hi… Why didn't you tell me they were back there!"

"You walked past the table same as I did!"

With knives being glared into his back, the commentary died off. Not to mention Boot, Terry, left them with little to say. And on it went, boys and girls strode, marched, and in some cases stumbled up to the hat to be sorted out among the four houses. To some surprise, Granger, Hermione was sorted into Gryffindor, as was Finnegan, Seamus, the Irishman they'd shared a boat with.

"Ee seemed a decent bloke," Ron opined.

"Yep," Harry agreed.

The line continued to dwindle, Lovegood, Luna, was placed in Ravenclaw and was followed by a girl named Serena who skipped up to the hat and literally disappeared beneath it. When McGonagall lifted it to see where she'd gone there was nothing to be found. Flipping it over, she rifled around inside till she got hold of something and pulled out a tiny white rabbit.

The rabbit hopped from her hand and landed on the stool, making the 'ta da' pose before transforming back into a girl to mild applause and, "GRYFFINDOR!" a sudden change of tie color.

"Well that was, diverting," said Harry.

"Neat trick," Ron agreed with minimal enthusiasm. It wasn't that great.

"Malfoy, Draco."

The blonde from earlier sauntered up to the hat, "SLYTHERIN!" it shouted without even touching the head.

"Draco huh? Guess you were right Ron."

"Told ya."

"That's gonna be awkward next time I see him."

"Potter, Harry."

Sighed as the room went deathly silent. "You'd think they'd never seen a wizard before," he said dryly, trudging up to the stool and being swallowed by the darkness.

Hm, difficult, said the voice in his head.

How's that, he wondered back.

Lot to work with, the voice replied. A good mind, loyal, brave, hm, and a desire to prove yourself.

You got all that in there did you, Harry quipped.

And snarky, can't forget snarky, the voice fired back. Lucky for you that's not part of the criteria I judge on or half the castle would be sorted into JACKASS house. So, where to put you?

Not Slytherin.

Not Slytherin? Why? You could be great you know, it's all here, and Slytherin could help you do it.

That may be, but there's someone in there I'd rather avoid right now, possibly forever.

It's a small castle kid.

Then as long as I can get away with.

A chuckling snort echoed in his ears, Well aren't we the courageous one. Fine, if that's how it's going to be, then, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The roar that greeted him upon the hat's removal was like something out of the Roman coliseum. We got Potter, we got Potter, the chant started just to be picked up by most of the table. It was enough to inflate an ego beyond the point of arrogance and right into delusion. Harry just felt embarrassed.

He took his seat as quickly as he could without making it look like he was rushing so the sorting could carry on.

The line continued through "Thomas, Dean," the dark-skinned boy he'd shared a boat with who was sorted into Gryffindor.

"Weasley, Ronald," as he'd predicted was sorted into Gryffindor, and booed by his doppelganger brothers who both laughed when he told them to shut up.

A "Zabini, Blaise," was sorted into Slytherin. Then the final student, a tall, slim, dark-skinned girl with a name that must have also started with a 'z'. It was hard to say exactly since McGonagall couldn't seem to figure out how to pronounce it.

"Just call me Zuli," the girl said with an understanding smile before disappearing beneath the hat and being sent off to Gryffindor.

And that was all of them… finally.

"Thought it would never be over," one of Ron's doppelganger brothers remarked.

"Did this year's class seem bigger than last year's?" the other wondered.

As they continued their banter, the tall, white-bearded man in the most garishly colored robes he'd ever seen stood and cleared his throat, drawing the whole rooms attention. "Now that that sorting is done, and before we repast, I would just like to say a few words."

"Aw, come on, I'm hungry," Ron grumbled under his breath.

Clearing his throat again, "Nitwit. Blubber. Oddment. Tweak… thank you."

"…what the hell was that?"

"That, dear Harry, was Albus Dumbledore," said the first doppelganger.

"Our beloved headmaster," added the second.

"You mean 'that guy' is in charge?"

The two gangly gingers nodded, grinning stupidly.

"I wouldn't worry yourself Harry," said the older, more serious looking ginger with the shiny badge on his breast pocket. "Dumbledore just likes to come off as barmy. He's really quite brilliant."

"He's mad!"

"Like a fox!"

Harry considered the ginger duplicates like they might be a little mad too but, unable, and unwilling, to try and wrap his head around the mystery of Albus Dumbledore at that moment, he looked across to Ron, only to find his new friend shoving food at his face. Wait… food.

Yes, food. More food than he'd ever seen in his life was spread up and down the table in all its tantalizing glory. "Whoa!" Magic was so cool.

"Better eat before Ronny gets it all," said one of the 'twins'.

At the rate he was going it did seem a legitimate concern and Harry quickly loaded his own plate up.

"Does he always eat like this?"

"Only when mum's not around to stop him."

"Self-control's his middle name, but only ironically."

Despite his brothers comments, he could understand Ron's enthusiasm. The food was good. Really good. Good enough he had to forcibly hold himself back from imitating Ron, good. So good he could almost ignore the cold tingle up his spine, the one that warned him when he was being watched.

Glancing around discreetly through a leg of chicken, he surmised it was coming from the staff table. He currently knew three names to the faces assembled, four perhaps if you counted the fat jolly woman McGonagall had yelled at, though he was pretty sure he couldn't get away with calling her by the first name.

Hagrid sat near the far end talking to a man on one side who appeared to be missing several parts while on the other a well quaffed fellow of a Spanish looking slant was speaking to a youngish looking woman in far too large glasses who seemed to be blushing and stammering a lot.

"Bet there's a fun story there."

Less fun was the next one, the one that was making his spine chill. Dressed in all black with black hair that gleamed like a well-oiled pelt, he was staring right at Harry. In a bout of teenage defiance, he locked eyes with the staring man, drawing a scowl before he looked away.

"Harry, you alright?" asked Ron.

"Who's that man sitting next to McGonagall, the oily looking one?"

"We prefer greasy," said twin 1.

"He prefers Professor Snape," said twin 2.

"He's the potion's teacher and head of Slytherin house," Percy added with the same distaste as his brothers.

"He was staring at me," said Harry.

"No surprise. He hates Gryffindor," said the first twin.

"Takes points every chance he gets," said the other.

"And gives points to his own house just for existing," first twin again.

"Well that doesn't seem fair," said Harry. "Shouldn't be able to give points to his own house. It's practically cheating."

"You wouldn't be the first to raise that complaint," said Percy. "There's been a movement since before I came to Hogwarts to change how the point system operates. They've yet been able to accomplish much. It's one of the things the council needs a full consensus and the headmaster's approval to change, and you can't really imagine Slytherin agreeing to change the system that's let them win the house cup seven years in a row."

It all seemed blatantly unfair, though it also raised an important question, "Council?"

"He means the student council," said twin 1.

"Every house has one, and each house has two representatives on the inter-house council," said twin 2.

"Is that you two then?"

Probably not, he surmised, when they broke out laughing.

"You wouldn't know this since you've just met them," said Percy somewhat pompously, "but these two are more likely to be brought before the council than to be part of it."

"We will not beg for our heads."

"Our dignity will not allow."

"Don't listen to them Harry," Ron said, jumping back into the conversation. "They're both crazy."

Harry chuckled, like he needed to be told that. Turning back to the staff table, he decided to finish his survey. Seemed like the best time as he had no idea when he might be meeting any of them in person and Percy, while a bit full of himself, seemed also full of potentially useful information.

Next to McGonagall was Dumbledore, sitting right in the middle of the table. On his other side was a small man, a very small man, sitting on a very high chair and looking to be in very high spirits.

The person next to him 'Pomona' also looked to be in high spirits and was holding a suspicious looking jug, which to Harry suggested they might be high on spirits. Best role models he'd seen all night.

A couple older women with little remarkable came next, a nervous looking man in a turban that gave him the strangest little headache, and then there was one that stopped him dead. Not literally dead of course, that would have been quite an accomplishment and there was nothing about her that suggested anything like accomplishment.

Soppy, that's the word. She looked very Soppy. Covered in baubles and bangles, her robe had more in common with a shawl than a proper robe and the glasses she wore made her look almost bug-eyed. Though he'd never seen a bug mope quite so hard as this woman seemed to be moping.

"I see you've set eyes on our local divinations instructor," noted one of the twins, he wasn't sure which as he'd taken his eyes off them for more than two seconds.

"Divinations? What's that, like, fortune telling?"

"More like, misfortune telling in her case," said the other twin, which might have been the first, or possibly the second.

"Had a bit of a bad go last year. Had to abandon her tower, poor dear. Got rained out," said the first, or was it the second… the third? Just how many of them were there.

"And I suppose you two had nothing to do with it?"

"Us! The nerve! Perish the thought!"

"It's an insult, an offense, the greatest upset!"

"We never…"

"Figured it out."

"Still haven't."

"And she's not around to ask anymore."

"She? So you know who did it?"

"Did we say that?"

"I don't think we did."

"It was never proved who did it," Percy interjected. "Whoever it was, they knew what they were doing. The rain cloud is still up there. It thunders once and a while if anyone goes near it, but it only rains if Professor Trelawney goes in there. She's been forced to find new rooms elsewhere in the castle."

"Doesn't like it though."

"Clouds the inner eye, she says."

Harry sighed, tired of following the verbal tennis match, and given the hour, just tired in general. It had been a good day, a fun day, a day full of excitement. The magical world was turning out to be a delightful and strange place, and he was sure it didn't get much stranger than Sybil Trelawney.

Until, "Would everyone please stand for the school song."

Oh boy.