Oh! Hogwarts! Hogwarts is a magnificent place. You'll make some of the best friends and learn some of the most important lessons of your life there. Just wait until you see the library. Take your studies seriously, you hear? Don't goof off like your berk father and try to slide by on talent alone. Study, work hard, learn all you can. You'll miss it when its gone.

Now, a few insider tips from your dad and me. You can find the kitchens by….

The Great Hall was massive and didn't have a roof. Stars shone above and clouds soared lazily across the sky. No, it did have a roof. It was just charmed to look like the sky. Harry could see where the edges of the sky flowed into the stone walls. Either way, it was an incredible sight.

Four great tables, covered in dining sets, filled the hall with a gap splitting them two and two. An elevated table for the staff sat at the head of the hall, and a simple wooden stool was front and center with a ragged hat set on it. Professor McGonagall had explained what to expect from the Sorting Hat, and everyone was watching it expectantly.

"Well," Harry mused quietly to Hermione. "At least we don't have to try it on in front of the whole school."

Hermione shoved him playfully, but her nerves were back in force and her lip was red from her chewing it. Suddenly the hat split down the middle to form a mouth and it broke into a song about the four houses, comradery, the history of the founders, and so on. It was quite possibly one of the more surreal moments of Harry's life. The song wasn't even particularly good.

Then again, it was written by a hat.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." Professor McGonagall called out, then read from a scroll. "Abbot, Hannah!"

One by one students were called up to the stool. The hat would sit silent for a short moment while it did… whatever it did. Then it would split down the middle again and call out a house, to the booming applause of that house's table.

"Granger, Hermione!"

The young woman had been so engrossed in her thoughts that she startled a little in surprise at her name being called. She glanced at Harry quickly, and he mouthed Ravenclaw at her, then gave her a thumbs up. She smiled and her nervous fidgeting slowed down.

She sat on the stool for a minute or two, the longest anyone had been up there yet, and Harry rather thought he saw a look of intense concentration on her face for a moment. Finally, the hat split open and called out.

"Ravenclaw!"

Hermione mouthed the words 'thank you', then left the hat on the stool and made her way to the Ravenclaw table, to shattering applause. She had barely even sat down when some of the older students leaned her way to start interrogating her about what the hat had said to her.

"Caught your eye already?" A freckled man with bright red hair asked. There was a black smudge on his nose, and his eyes were following Hermione as well. "Seems the bookworm sort, but you've got to admit she has a great bum."

Harry rolled his eyes, but didn't dignify that with a response. Good to see the magical world wouldn't be too different from his old one.

More names were called and more students were sorted. As the list continued the older students started getting bored of the ceremony. Some were chatting with friends, others with their new first years, a few at the Ravenclaw table had even pulled out books and were reading. All of it stopped almost instantly when his own name was called.

"Potter, Harry!"

Silence fell like a television had been unplugged. Every eye in the room turned to face him, and Harry was suddenly reminded of Hermione's reaction to his name. And she hadn't even grown up in the magical world. Perhaps he had underestimated how much weight his name carried?

Whispers broke across the Great Hall like forest fires as he made his way to the stool. Thankfully, they fell silent again as he pulled the hat on his head and it sank down over his eyes.

"Hmmm. What have we here? Difficult, very difficult. Great deal of courage, no doubt. Tried and tested, at that. Fierce independence and a thirst for knowledge. A drive to prove yourself, too, you'd do well anywhere, I think. Slytherin would suit you quite well. Bring out that ambition of yours you've convinced yourself you don't have."

What? Slytherin? But he wanted to go to Ravenclaw.

"Or Gryffindor, perhaps. You've seen enough wrongs to want to do a few rights, I can see that clear as day. And you'll find people willing to fight with you in Godric's house. Practically what it was made for, Gryffindor."

Harry was starting to see why Hermione had been concentrating so hard.

"But no, I see you passing out in your books almost every day this past month. Dawn to dusk and all hours in between. You won't be satisfied until you've cracked the whole magical world open and scooped out the insides, will you? I'm telling you, Slytherin would suit you to a 't'. But, if you insist, it had better be... Ravenclaw!"

About time. Harry pulled off the hat to find Ravenclaw cheering loudly while the Gryffindor table seemed a bit disappointed. Two identical redheads in particular groaned and hugged each other to console themselves. Wizards were so weird.

Hermione scooted over to make room for him at the Ravenclaw table, and he was immediately surrounded by well-wishers, congratulators, and 'Are you really the Harry Potter's. It only got worse after the meal started properly.

When dinner was winding down and Dumbledore had given his speech about avoiding the Forbidden Forest, thus the name, the plates were cleared and students all over the hall stood to spend the last of their free time before curfew. One man, a few years older than Harry and wearing a Ravenclaw patch and prefect badge, called out to them.

"This way, first years, if you will follow me, I'll show you all to the Ravenclaw dormitories."

"Guess that's us, then." Hermione said, and the two joined the dozen or so first years.

"Congratulations, all of you, for being placed in Ravenclaw house. My name is Robert Hilliard, and I'm one of the sixth-year prefects. If you have any questions feel free to ask myself or any older students. Though when term really gets going you may want to avoid the fifth and seventh years. They get a bit antsy when their exams start getting close."

Robert led them through the halls of Hogwarts, explaining interesting bits of history, various rooms, and tips on navigating the giant and occasionally nonsensical castle. Staircases that moved and when, doorways that only appeared when certain criteria were met, even their own house dormitories were only accessible if one answered a riddle first. Riddles that often required an open mind or prior knowledge of magic.

Couldn't guess the answer? Make yourself comfortable until someone else could, or until someone from outside checked in on you. The riddle could be so obscure or convoluted, there was an unspoken rule in Ravenclaw that someone in the common room would check outside at the toll of the clock just in case someone was stuck outside.

Anyone from Ravenclaw, at least.

The common room itself was magnificent. It was at the top of one of the tallest towers in the castle and the arched windows gave a fantastic view of Hogwarts and its surroundings. Blue and bronze accented everything in the tower, and a light breeze rustled the hangings despite the closed windows. The room was furnished with bookshelves, tables, and chairs, and reminded Harry of his childhood fantasies of running away from the Dursleys to live in the library by their house.

"Look at all these books!" Hermione whispered, awed at the sight, and Harry had to agree.

"The library here is open to all Ravenclaws with a few caveats. No book here is to be taken out of the common room, though you will have access to the Hogwarts library through your dormitory, and senior students get first selection of any books. It is only fair, after all, as they are running out of time to read them. You'll get your turn."

He could already see himself bringing a blanket and falling asleep in front of the great fireplace while reading the many books here.

"Men's dorms are through the stairs to the left, women's are through the stairs to the right. First years are at the very top and as you pass through the years you will get closer and closer to the common room. Seniority has to count for something, after all. Each of you will have your own room. And don't worry about there not being enough. Hogwarts will take care of it."

He said it as though the castle were alive and sapient. Then again, given what Robert and Hermione had mentioned of the castle already, that may not be that far off. He went on to explain meal times, curfews, the class schedules, and other important details that weren't nearly as interesting as moving staircases and personal libraries.

"Tomorrow morning, we will all be getting our schedules for the year, but in the meantime go pick out your rooms and relax. When you've selected one just tap the door with your wand to claim it and your luggage will be brought to your room and you can get settled in. If you have any more questions feel free to find me or any senior student. At this point, that's pretty much everyone around you that wasn't Sorted tonight! Welcome to Hogwarts!"

The other first years split up. Some heading toward the dorms, a few to the bookshelves to start poking around. Harry wanted to check out the rooms and, if they were different, pick the best one.

"Hey Hermione, I'm going to go grab a room. Meet you back here in twenty and we can pillage the bookshelves together?"

Hermione's smile lit up the common room.

"I'd love to."

'Dormitory' wasn't the right word for the room Harry ended up claiming. 'House' would have been more accurate. The place was actually larger than his flat! It had its own den with simple furniture, a closed bedroom with a queen-sized bed, and a large master bathroom with both walk-in shower and tub. It was luxuriant, and would cost well over a thousand pounds a month to rent a non-magical version. He had compared the views from the windows of each of the other rooms, or the ones that hadn't already been claimed at least, and had selected one that overlooked a beautiful lake with distant mountains. Everything else had been identical between rooms.

"This is real…" He whispered to himself, and sat down on the bed, sinking into the plush blanket.

A young man with dark hair hanging to his eyes knocked on the open dorm room, peeking in.

"This room taken?" Harry looked around one more time.

"Yeah, sorry mate. There's one two doors down with a great view of the Quidditch pitch, though. I'm Harry, by the way."

"Michael! See you around, Harry."

The boy rushed off, probably to claim the room Harry had mentioned. Harry prodded the door with his wand to avoid any more awkward situations, and the empty placard next to the door warped and changed to read his name. His luggage appeared next his new desk, but he put off putting anything away. Instead, he made his way downstairs to the library, where Hermione was waiting for him. She was bouncing with anxious energy, and her eyes were sweeping the walls of shelves eagerly.

"Shall we, then?" He asked, and she grinned again.

"Yes!"

Harry tried to get his eyes to focus on the schedule in his hand. He and Hermione had been up far later than was sensible, digging through the Ravenclaw library. The woman had pulled out a notebook and had started a list of the ones she wanted to read within five minutes. He believed she was going to finish it, too. He liked to read, but Hermione was a different beast entirely.

She was also adorable when she was tired. He watched her spear clumsily at a plate of eggs, growing increasingly more irritated the more they fell off her fork. She didn't resemble a witch so much as a bear just waking from hibernation. And was probably just as dangerous.

"Looks like we will share classes with one of the other houses, though which one changes based on the class."

Hermione grumbled in acknowledgment. He couldn't help but smile, and took a casual sip from his tea.

"Just the core classes first year, by the looks of it. I heard someone mention that we'd be able to start electives come third year, and that's when our free time dies. Of course, a sixth year laughed when they said that, so that isn't comforting."

She'd given up on the eggs and was slowly munching on a piece of unevenly buttered toast. Her eyes were staring at him blearily, clearly not as excited by their upcoming classes as he was. Years of cooking breakfast for the Dursleys had forced him to function in the mornings. Apparently, Hermione hadn't had the same opportunity.

"You're a wonderful person, Mr. Potter, and I hate to be rude. But could you please be a tad less chipper at such an ungodly hour? It's unpleasant."

He laughed at that, and the sound made a smile tug at her lips. The reluctance to smile combined with her irritation and untamed hair was more than he could handle, and it set him off. Eventually she joined him, unable to hold onto her annoyance. There was simply too much to feel joyous about to be unhappy, even that early in the morning. They were alive. Magic was real. And they were starting a new adventure in a fantasy world.

"Alright, fine, you win." Hermione said when she got the giggles out of her system. "Tell me more about our schedule. Just the core classes, you said?"

"Yup. Bad news, we have class on Saturdays. Good news is that for the most part we only have one class per day. A long block, usually before lunch, then free study afterwards. Tuesday and Thursdays are in the afternoons, but that is to plan around Astronomy Wednesday nights."

"That's going to be so weird, having class at night. I can't wait for it, though. Imagine how clear the night sky is going to be way out here. There's no light pollution at all!"

Harry had been thinking that himself. He'd been tempted to try to see the stars last night, but it had been almost two in the morning when he and Hermione had called it quits in the library and he had been exhausted from barely sleeping the night before.

Hermione pushed her plate away, wiped her hands on a napkin, and started looking over her own schedule. The tea, toast, and laughter had done her a world of good. Harry filed that away for future reference.

"Potions with the Hufflepuffs, right after breakfast. That sounds like it could be fun. I always did like chemistry back in school. I wonder how similar it is?" Harry groaned at the thought, hoping to elicit another smile.

"I hope not. A couple of jocks were screwing around in chemistry my last year of secondary school, and ended up starting a small fire. They set off the fire alarms and the smell was still there when I graduated. Now if it is anything like cooking, I may survive."

"That was nothing like cooking." Harry groused as the students rushed to be the first away from the tyrant Snape. "Unless you count my aunt Petunia standing behind you sniffing and hitting you with a spoon every few minutes."

Hermione winced in sympathy as she hoisted her bag over her shoulder.

"That professor was a bit unreasonable, wasn't he? If you don't want the answer to your question, don't ask it! It's like he was trying to humiliate you if you didn't know the right answer, and couldn't bear to be proven wrong."

Well done! You are familiar with concepts any child over the age of eight can understand. In that case, I'll just step aside and let you teach the class, Mr. Potter. After all, I'm only a Potions Master, not a celebrity.

Unreasonable was an understatement. He'd had unreasonable teachers in the past, and teachers who'd had a grudge against him. Snape had a grudge against him.

"Just give him some time," Hermione said with forced optimism. "Maybe he'll warm up to us when he sees how competent we are. Did you see how upset he got at poor Hannah when she spilled the porcupine quills into her potion? I thought it was going to make Susan cry, and they were only sharing a table!"

"Hn."

"Well, we're done with class for the day and lunch should be served soon in the Great Hall. What do you say we get some food, then explore the main library? I want to compare it to the Ravenclaw one."

"I'd thought you'd never ask, Ms. Granger."

"Did your aunt really hit you with a spoon when you cooked?"

The Great Hall was almost empty when they stopped by for lunch, other than a handful of students at their house tables, though that wasn't too surprising. Rather than a set time for lunch, any student could go at any time within blocks of a few hours and get a hot meal, and small refreshments were available in the off hours such as sandwiches. Harry and Hermione took a seat at the Ravenclaw table and gave their orders to an enthusiastic house-elf in a plain black Hogwarts uniform.

"I think some of the Slytherins are talking about you." Hermione said, pointedly not looking in the table's direction.

"So is half of the school, apparently." He had been accompanied by whispered conversations wherever he'd gone since the feast the night before.

"This is different. Hang on, some of them are coming this way."

Harry turned on his bench. Sure enough, three Slytherins were walking directly towards him. The one in the middle had slicked blond hair and finely tailored robes, with an expression of bored disinterest. He was flanked by two professional ruby players, judging by their size.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter. My name is Draco Malfoy, and I've been looking forward to meeting you."

Hermione made a quiet, affronted noise to his side.

"Pleasure to meet you. You already know my name, but this is my friend Hermione Granger."

Ice blue eyes glanced in her direction, calculated, then dismissed her immediately.

"I've heard you are new to the wizarding world, no fault of your own of course, but you should know that in our world some families are better than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

Malfoy proffered his hand, but Harry glanced at it, then turned around in his seat to face Hermione again.

"I see."

Hermione's eyes were amused for a brief second, then alarmed. Harry saw her start to reach toward the wand in her sleeve, and he tensed in preparation for anything.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter." Any politeness in his tone was gone. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like mudbloods and it'll rub off on you. Though I see it already has."

Harry's blood ran cold at the mention of his parents. He didn't turn. If he saw the little shit's face, he would do something stupid.

"Excuse me?" He asked. He kept his hands flat against the table, his index finger tapping.

There was a trio of soft pops between them, and a few house-elves arrived bearing trays.

"Mr. Harry Potter, Ms. Hermione Granger, your food is ready. Mr. Draco Malfoy, your food is ready at the Slytherin table."

The words were polite, but there was an edge of steel hidden deep down. These elves brooked no argument in what was clearly their domain. Malfoy hesitated briefly, then turned away.

"Leave them, let's go. I'll be seeing you, Potter."

Harry kept facing forward until Hermione relaxed.

"What an ass. Did you see the way he barely even acknowledged my presence?" She said, angrily. "I've heard about his family. The Malfoys were loyal supporters of Voldemort, but got off after his death on claims of Imperius. Rich, influential, pureblooded. I can't wait to wipe the smile off his greasy face in our classes."

It was nice to see Hermione was even more worked up about it than he was. The comment about his parents had struck him surprisingly hard considering he didn't even remember them. He looked over his shoulder to the Slytherin table and was gratified to see Malfoy ranting to his two goons. Apparently, he had gotten under the boy's skin.

Halfway up the table, though, a pair of women caught his eye. They were twins, judging by their similarities, with long dark hair and empty eyes. And they were being very careful not to seem like they were looking his way. But they were definitely watching him. Malfoy had just been riding his own arrogance, but something about those two women made the back of his neck crawl.

"Harry?" Hermione was looking at him, concerned. "Don't let him get to you. He's a pompous ass with a powerful father, but I doubt anything will come of it. Certainly not here at Hogwarts. If he tries anything, the professors will expel him in a heartbeat."

"Yeah, you're right. Now, let's eat and go check out that library. I have a couple of books a letter from my mum mentioned, and I want to see if it has them. Actually, you'll probably be interested in them too. Have you heard of…"

AN: "There is nothing impossible to him who will review." - Alexander the Great, fanfiction author