22.
The next morning, Harry woke as usual at 0530. He thought about going for a run, but he wasn't sure what time breakfast ended and he didn't want to get lost in the school on his first day. He changed into his uniform instead, and went down into the common room, straightening his tie.
The only occupants of the room were a fifth or sixth year girl sat near the fire and Sir Nicholas the ghost. The girl was engrossed in the letter she was writing, and so Harry walked over to the ghost.
"Good morning sir Nicholas." He said.
Sir Nicholas looked rather surprised. "Good morning! It's rather early for you to be up."
"I'm used to getting up early." Harry shrugged. "I was wondering if you would be able to show me the way down to the dining hall, sir."
The ghost seemed to straighten. "Of course. And I must say, it is refreshing to be referred to correctly; none of this 'nearly-headless' nonsense. I was knighted you know." Harry followed him out of the portrait hall and then along corridors and down the moving stairs, listening as Sir Nicholas talked about the school and the other resident ghosts.
It took much less time for them to get down to the Entrance Hall than it had taken them to get up to the tower last night, and Harry thought that Sir Nicholas had probably taken more shortcuts and secret passageways than Weasley had. The ghost left him at the open doorway to the great hall, wishing him a pleasant morning before floating back up the grand staircase.
Harry walked into the Great Hall and found a seat at the end of the Gryffindor table. The only people present in the room were a group of four girls sitting together at the Slytherin table as well as a lone boy sitting at the end, a stiff with greasy hair dressed in dark robes, and a few students sat along the Ravenclaw table.
Harry glanced up and down the table, before poring a goblet of apple juice and grabbing a few pieces of toast. A few more students filed in as Harry ate his breakfast, but the Great Hall was still mostly empty when he stood up to leave.
He glanced up as he approached the big oak doors, and was surprised to see dark grey clouds. It was as if there was no ceiling, the roof simply opening to the sky. As captivated as he was by the magical ceiling, Harry didn't notice when a boy appeared in the doorway, and ploughed right into him, causing him to fall backwards onto the floor.
Harry shook his head, quickly getting to his feet. "Kubowa. Sorry." He looked up and saw a boy a few years older than him, probably sixth year, his jumper damp from rain.
"Careful." The boy said, offering him a hand up. "The ceiling's enchanted to reflect the sky outside."
"That's cool." Harry nodded. "So it's actually hooging outside?" Harry saw the boy's eyes widen. "Sorry, I mean rain-"
"Raining, yeah, I know." The boy said. "You went to Coleshill?"
Harry stared at him. "Yeah. You did too?"
The boy laughed. "Yeah. Come sit with me. I would stop and chat but I'm starving."
"Ok, sure. I'm not going to be late though am I?"
The older boy shook his head, leading Harry over to the Ravenclaw table. "Lessons don't start until 9. You've got ages."
They sat a few metres from the closest student, a girl who was writing on a long piece of parchment as she ate a bowl of cereal one-handed.
"I'm Whitehall, by the way." The boy said, loading a plate with bacon, sausages, eggs, mushrooms and baked beans.
"Potter." Harry replied.
Whitehall regarded him. "No shit. Everybody knows who you are here."
Harry felt himself flush. "Right."
"So what's the trank-hole like?" Whitehall asked. "Gibson still a complete and utter dick?"
"Don't you know it." Harry grinned. "You know he wears a wig?"
"You what?" Whitehall laughed.
"Yeah. I turned it blue."
Whitehall burst out laughing, causing the girl next to them to scowl. Whitehall flipped her off.
"I think it was accidental magic." Harry said, grinning at the memory.
"What did he do when he noticed?"
Harry shrugged. "Ran back to the aerie. I didn't exactly hang around to find out."
"What did Faulkner say?"
"Who?"
"Sergeant Faulkner. His boyfriend." Whitehall pulled a face.
"Oh. He was fired two years ago." Harry said.
"About fucking time." Whitehall said, and Harry laughed.
A boy with a prefect's badge pinned to his school robes gave Harry an odd look as he nodded at Whitehall. "Alright Matto?"
Whitehall nodded back. "Addams."
The prefect took a few pieces of toast from the rack before leaving the Great Hall. Harry followed his movements, frowning. "Hold on," He said, turning back to Whitehall. "Matto Whitehall?"
"Yeah."
"You're kidding?"
Whitehall frowned. "No. that's my name."
"Holy trank." Harry grinned. "I think I had your old bed."
"No canky way."
"C-dorm, in the far corner. You drew a multi-coloured galaxy on one of the wooden slats on the top bunk rather than just signing your name like a normal person." Harry felt an odd twinge when he realised he had never signed his bed.
Whitehall shrugged. "I like space, so I drew stars. That's kind of freaky Krana."
Harry nodded. "Small world."
Whitehall nodded, taking a large gulp of juice. "I'm just glad I got out of that trank-hole." People were filing into the Great Hall at a steady trickle now, and Whitehall caught sight of somebody over Harry's shoulder, waving them down the Ravenclaw table towards him. "Alright kid, piss off now. Nice talking to you."
Harry rose from his seat. "Yeah, you too. See you around."
Harry managed to find his way back to Gryffindor Tower, and entered the dorm just as the others were getting up.
"Harry, how come you're up already?" Weasley asked groggily.
Harry shrugged. "I'm an early riser."
"Bloody mental is what you are." Finnegan yawned, disappearing into the bathroom.
Harry began unpacking his things from his trunk as the others got dressed.
"So where were you Harry?" Longbottom asked.
"I went down to breakfast." Harry replied. "Sir Nicholas showed me down to the Great Hall." He pulled his Tottenham scarf out of his trunk and hung it up before turning and catching a disgusted look on Thomas's face. "What?"
"You're a spurs fan?"
"Yeah."
Thomas shook his head. "And here I thought we could be friends." He grinned.
"I suppose you support a canky team like Crystal Palace or Liverpool don't you?"
Thomas looked offended. "Crystal Palace? Are you mad? West Ham all the way!"
Harry glanced at Ron, who was struggling to knot his tie. "Do you need a hand?"
Weasley looked up and his ears flushed. "Er... yeah, please."
Harry took the tie and looped it around his own neck. "West Ham's even worse than palace."
"We're better than Tottenham." Thomas retorted.
Harry laughed. "What are you on about? I'll have you know we were tenth in the Premier league last year Thomas." He knotted the tie as he spoke, then loosened it and handed it to Weasley. "You guys are what... second division?"
"What are you guys even talking about?" Longbottom asked, glancing between them.
"Football." Thomas replied. "It's a sport." He added at Ron's perplexed look.
"Like quidditch?" Weasley asked.
Finnegan had just emerged from the bathroom. "There's only one ball, and there's no flying, obviously, but there's the same cult-like following for it." He rolled his eyes fondly.
"No flying?" Weasley repeated. "Weird."
"It's a muggle sport, Weasley." Harry said. "How would they fly?"
"Right." Weasley flushed red again, and fiddled with the duvet on his bed.
Harry sat on his own bed, not accustomed to not having to rush off to tips. He looked up and saw Finnegan struggling with his tie, just as Weasley had. "Finnegan, you're tying that wrong."
Finnegan looked up. "How do you do it then?"
Harry walked over to the other boy and undid his own tie. "Make this end longer, then wrap it around this bit, like this... and come up and over, then around... and poke it through there. Then pull it tight." He tied it slowly, but Finnegan still ended up with a twist in his ridiculously short tie, and so Harry simply leant forwards and knotted it correctly, accidentally hitting Finnegan on the nose when he looked down to see what Harry was doing. "Sorry."
"Thanks."
Harry nodded and sat back down on his bed, absently scuffing his boot against the floor.
"Does anyone remember the way down to the Great Hall?" Weasley asked. "I'm starving."
"Nope." Thomas said. Finnegan thought for a second before shaking his head.
"I don't think I'm ever going to find my way around this school." Longbottom said, sounding miserable. "It's huge."
Harry had to agree. Coleshill had been a big campus, but all of the classrooms were in one small wing or the Duvalier science centre. Hogwarts seemed to be spread across the whole castle, with moving stairs, secret passageways, and no discernable landmarks as the people in the portraits all moved.
"Hey Harry," Weasley said. "Do you reckon you could get back down to the Great Hall?"
"Why don't you just ask an older student?" Harry said.
Ron's ears flushed. "Yeah, right. Ok." He coughed. "Yeah. I just thought, maybe..." He trailed off, his face scarlet.
Harry suddenly felt bad. He hadn't meant it to come out rude, but it was the obvious logical decision. "I mean, I think I can remember." He stood up. "But don't blame me if we get lost."
Weasley grinned at him, and the five boys left the dorm, Harry subconsciously reaching up to straighten his beret before realising he didn't need to wear one. He managed to pass off the gesture as running a hand through his hair as he crossed the common room.
Harry managed to lead them down to the Great Hall without getting too lost, and the five boys found seats about halfway down the Gryffindor table. Harry looked around the Great Hall as they ate. The room was busier now, and much noisier as students caught up after a long holiday over breakfast. Harry watched professor McGonagall make her way down the table, handing out timetables.
Harry took his and glanced at it, rather surprised to find that he had no more maths lessons. Whilst he had known he would be learning magic at a magic school for wizards, he hadn't realised that they would have no muggle lessons. A small smile spread across his face when he realised that meant he would never have to have another geography lesson ever again. He looked up and caught sight of a second year boy watching him.
"Muggleborn?"
Harry frowned. "Pardon?"
"Are you muggleborn?" The boy asked. "Nobody else looks that happy when they get given a school timetable."
Harry grinned. "No more geography."
The boy laughed. "I know the feeling." His eyes locked on Harry's scar. "You're-"
"Harry Potter. Yeah." Harry said. He was beginning to get annoyed with how much attention his scar was getting. He angrily pushed his fringe down over his forehead. "I know."
The boy flushed. "Sorry. My friend told me about you last year."
"Right."
"Anyway, you'll probably find a subject you hate as much as geography, don't worry." The boy said, taking a large swig of juice from a silver goblet. "My money's on either History or potions."
"How come?"
"Professor Snape takes potions, and he completely favours the Slytherins." The boy explained. "And history is dead boring." He grinned like he'd just told a funny joke.
Harry shrugged. "I guess I'll see."
The boy nodded. "Yep." He drank the last of his juice and stood up. "Well, see you."
"Bye."
Harry watched him go, then turned to the other boys, all of whom seemed to be done with their breakfast. "Shall we go and get our books?"
Finnegan nodded, and Harry led them back up to Gryffindor tower, almost going the wrong way down a corridor before he caught sight of the portrait of the fat lady at the other end.
"Caput draconis." He stated, and the door swung open.
The common room was much more lively now, and Harry caught people staring at his scar even as he crossed to the staircase. His glower had never been good enough to affect Nathaniel Jones – in fact the blond ponce had laughed in his face when he tried - but it seemed to do a decent job at dissuading the Gryffindors from gaping at his head.
They filled their school bags with parchment, quills, ink bottles and their books, then went back down to the common room. Harry saw Granger with the other first year girls – Patil and Brown – standing off to one side and headed towards them.
"Do any of you know where the classroom is?" Longbottom asked.
The girls all shook their heads.
Ron looked around the room then started off in one direction. Harry watched and saw he was headed to his brother Percy. They spoke for a few seconds, then Percy puffed himself up pompously and the two began walking back towards the first years.
"As your prefect, I will show you to your first lesson." Percy said. "What do you have?"
"Defence Against the Dark Arts." Granger replied immediately, and Percy nodded.
"Well, come on then."
Percy lead them all through the castle, then left them outside a solid oak door. Only a few moments later, students wearing the green-trimmed robes of Slytherin walked around the corner, lead by Malfoy. They lined up on the other side of the corridor to the Gryffindors.
The first years were all talking amongst themselves when the door suddenly opened and crashed against the stone wall. A few people screamed, and Malfoy started so badly that he hit his head on the wall behind him.
Harry calmly looked up at the scarred face of Professor Moody, who glared back at him with his mismatched eyes.
"Constant vigilance!" Moody shouted, and Harry did jump this time. Moody's mouth twisted into something that might have been a grin and he turned to the assembled Gryffindor and Slytherin students as Longbottom picked himself up off the floor, rubbing his elbow.
"Get in."
