Chapter Nine - Meeting New Friends

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—∞·Chapter Summary·∞—

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A redhead, a loathsome blonde, a bushy-haired know-it-all, and a forgetful boy.

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Meeting New Friends

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The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

There was a knock on the door of their compartment and the round-faced boy Harry had passed on platform nine and three-quarters came in. He looked tearful.

"Sorry," he said in between his sniffs, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When they shook their heads, he wailed, startling Harry. "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," Harry says in encouragement.

"Yeah, I really do hope so," the boy nodded miserably. "Well, if you see him…"

He left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," Ron grimaces. "If I'd brought a toad, I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

Indeed, the rat was still snoozing on Ron's lap.

"He might have died, and you wouldn't know the difference. I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him look more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look…"

He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end. Harry put a mental note to have Bill purchase a new wand for him by the weekend.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway—"

He had just raised it to cast the spell when the compartment door slid open once again. The toadless boy was back, but this time he had with him a girl. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes staring at them authoritatively.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth."

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," Ron retorted irritatingly, but the girl wasn't listening. Her eyes are more focused on the wand he held in his hand.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."

She sat down making Ron gape at her, taken aback.

"Er— all right."

He cleared his throat. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow… turn this stupid fat rat yellow."

Ron waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" Said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family knows how to cast magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard— I've learned all our course books by heart. I just hope it will be enough— I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

She said all those words very fast.

Harry looked at Ron waiting to explode. As much as the girl sounded a bit annoying, he finds her attitude somewhat tolerable. It's the young Weasley boy he's worried about having a short temper and all— Bill's words.

"I'm Ron Weasley."

"Harry Potter-Black."

All four of them looked at him with wide eyes. It was the first time they heard him introduce himself and they didn't expect him to state his complete name.

"Are you really?" Hermione was the first one to react among them. "I know all about you, of course. I got a few extra books for background reading and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

Harry rolled his eyes. He wasn't excited to hear false praises from an unreliable reference. "Really? Then I'd say you've got to read about me somewhere else then. Whatever those books wrote isn't true at all. Except for a few minor details. The rest of it is nothing but rubbish."

Hermione looked scandalized. She'd never been slammed by anyone her whole life. "But… but…"

"I'll give you a list of what books have more accurate information written in them. Remind me when we get to the castle." He offered with a sneer which the girl accepted wholeheartedly.

"Well, you're right. I'd definitely look that up if that's the case." She said, "anyway, do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around and I hope I'm in Gryffindor. It sounds by far the best. I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad… oh! We'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know. I expect we'll be there soon."

"You may want to check with the prefects in front. Ron's brother, Percy would be more than willing to help." Harry suggested, winking at the redheaded boy across him.

"I think that's a good idea." And she left, taking the toadless boy with her.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," Ron threw his wand back into his trunk. "Stupid spell. George gave it to me. Bet he knew it was a dud."

Probably to mess around, Harry thought. "What house are your brothers in?" He knew Bill and Charlie were in Gryffindor as well as the twins. That leaves Percy who looked like he belonged to the same house as them.

"Gryffindor," Ron confirmed his suspicion. Gloom seemed to be settling on him again. "Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."

Harry didn't like this ridiculous idea of stereotyping. "Just because You-Know-Who was in there?"

"Yeah," said Ron. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed.

He wondered how he'd react if he finds out that Harry is the current head of that house.

"What's your Quidditch team?" Ron asked, changing the topic.

Harry pondered a moment. There are quite a few teams Charlie had introduced him to but most of them are from Europe. The only English team he's very much familiar with is The Appleby Arrows since one of his estates are sponsoring their league. He hasn't seen them play yet though.

"I guess I'd go for the Appleby's." He admitted sheepishly.

"That's cool! From North England. I love how their fans fire arrows from their wands whenever an Appleby Chaser scores. It's too bad they banned the practice when a referee once received a free nose piercing from a wayward arrow that hit him several years ago."

Harry chuckled in his seat. He was, of course, informed of that incident by Charlie himself to their eternal shame. He was listening to Ron regaling his own favorite team (the Chudley Cannons) when the compartment door slid open yet again, but it wasn't Neville the toadless boy or Hermione Granger the bossy girl this time.

Three boys entered, and Harry recognized the middle one at once. It was the pale boy from Madam Malkin's Robe Shop. He was looking at Harry with a lot more interest than he'd shown back in Diagon Alley.

"Is it true?" He asked. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter is in this compartment. So it's you, isn't it?"

"Yeah?" Harry's brows are raised. He was looking at the other boys. Both were thickset looking extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards than his friends.

"This is Crabbe, and this is Goyle," says the boy carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. His reaction earned a glare from the pale kid.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

Harry didn't like the sound of it at all. But as what he'd learned from Bill's lessons, he had to keep his blank façade on.

Draco turns back to him. "You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are much better than the others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake Harry's. He had the strong urge not to take it. But remembering his mentor's words…

"It is customary among purebloods to take a handshake no matter how unpleasant they are. Refusing it puts your own house on a disgrace and we don't want that to happen."

Thus, Harry accepted the gesture but with a tighter grip. And then, with an air of a cold tone, he sneers, "now, now, Heir Malfoy. No need to degrade ourselves by starting a useless brawl. I don't think your father would be pleased to find out his son and heir apparent is not getting along well with a lord of an Ancient and Noble House, do we?"

Draco Malfoy's eyes widened. He didn't expect the boy-who-lived who grew up with muggles will be talking like a pureblooded git. And Harry was right. His father had pushed him into befriending the little young lord on his first day on the train and if he failed, he couldn't imagine the possibilities.

"Very well," he said slowly. "A friendly advice though, you hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and people that are out of our league and it will rub off on you."

"I'll manage." He leered, "I'd say I'll take your friendship still. Have a good day, Heir Malfoy and your two… sidekicks. See you at the feast."

Having said that, the three boys left the compartment at once. Perhaps they heard footsteps that is why they didn't attempt to make any more protests because a second later, Hermione Granger had entered.

"What's going on?" She admonishes, both hands over her waist, but both boys weren't listening to what she was saying.

"You've met Malfoy before?"

Harry explained about their meeting in Diagon Alley.

"That was brilliant, what you did out there." Says Ron in amazement. "Not many families can stand up to them, being arrogant gits for being pureblooded and all that nonsense. Did you saw his face? It means he knew what you were talking about. Though I must admit I knew little about the old customs among pureblooded wizards."

He fought the urge not to suggest taking lessons from his older brother.

"I've heard of his family." Ron went on darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said something about being bewitched. Dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the dark side." Then he turns to Hermione. "Can we help you with something?"

"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"

"I'd say, if ever we did, you'll be the last one to know," Harry says coldly.

Ron sniggers in agreement. "Would you mind leaving while we change then?"

"All right— I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors," says Hermione in a sniffy voice. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"

The redhead glared at her as she left. Harry peered out of the window and noticed that it's getting dark. He could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. He did notice that the train seems to be slowing down. Soon, both boys had changed into their uniforms. Ron's robes were a bit short for him, you could see his sneakers underneath them. He couldn't help but stare in awe looking at Harry's neatly tailored ones. Even his black shoes looked expensive as they were shining like a polished stone.

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

Harry's stomach lurched with nerves and Ron, as he saw, looked pale under his freckles. They made sure they have left nothing inside the compartment before joining the crows thronging the corridor.

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Harry shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harry heard a booming voice. "Firs' years! Firs years over here!"

"Whoa!" They both gasped.

A giant of a man was standing before them. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under the hair.

"Blimey, Harry, there you are! Where have you been?" The giant says with a worried look on his face. "Been lookin' fer ye' fer so many days now, thot ye got kidnapped or sumthn'."

"Err," he didn't know what to say. This giant was looking for him for days?

Oh…

He must be that 'someone else' Bill had warned him about that same day he took him out of the shack.

"Sorry, but who are you?" He asks the giant man as politely as he can.

"Oh, sorry. Forgot ter introduce meself, eh? Name's Hagrid, by the way. Keeper of keys and grounds of Hogwarts." He took the hand he offered which caused his own to vanish within his grasp. Although it felt friendly and gentle.

"Hello, Hagrid. But don't you think we're going to be late if we stay here longer?" Politely, Harry tried to cause some distraction that worked in a matter of a second.

"Righ' C'mon then, follow me." He bellowed one last time before leading their little group in another direction. "Any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years, follow me!"

Others slip while some are tumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Harry thought there must be thick trees there.

Nobody spoke much.

Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," the giant man called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud, "ooooh!" that followed.

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry night sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

Harry must've imagined it but at one point, he thought he heard someone who whispered, "welcome home!" in his ear.

"No more'n four in a boat!" Hagrid warns, who had a boat all to himself. "Right then— FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" The giant yelled as the first boats reached the cliff. They all bent their heads in compliance and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were led along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle until they reached a kind of an underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" Hagrid asks Neville as he checks the boats while people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" The boy cried in relief. Holding out his hands. Then their entire group clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

Not too long, the huge wooden entrance opens at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood before them. She had a very stern face and Harry's first impression of her was that this was not someone he would want to cross with.

"The firs' year, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid introduced to her the students.

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

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big, you could have fir the whole of the Dursleys' house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right— the rest of the school must already be here, but instead, the witch showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall greeted. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within the school. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are here, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Harry just stood there trying to look calm as ever. His new hairstyle prevents people from seeing his scar unless he lifts his bangs up.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber. Harry noticed some of the students swallowed a lump in their throats.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" One student asked Ron from behind them.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking." Which Harry thought the same thing. What he finds interesting about those two is their genius in pranking. If Bill's accounts of his brothers were right, he would say he'd like to see a lot of them more. He'd learned from one of his Dad's journals that he was a renowned prankster. He took advantage of his access to the castle by exploring them in the wee hours.

That would be pretty much exciting. He just must make sure it would not reach the knowledge of Bill.

He looked around and noticed that everyone else seem terrified. No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering out loud which one she'd need.

He'd start to think more about pranking that kid.

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—∞·To be continued in the next chapter·∞—

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