"You're sure you have everything?" Mrs. Prewett asked Anthony on the day they were to leave for King's Cross Station.

"I'm sure," Anthony answered for the hundredth time.

His father lifted his trunk. "Now be sure to change into your robes on the train," he told Anthony. "They're very strict about uniforms there."

They gathered together and stepped into the fireplace. "The Leaky Cauldron!" they said. "I never did like this place," Mrs. Prewett said. "But it's the most reliable way to get to King's Cross." Mr. Prewett gave a hasty wave and smile to the barman before catching Mrs. Prewett's disapproving eye. They tapped their wands on the brick and entered a street which looked oddly familiar to Anthony. The buildings were different, but there was no doubt it was the same sort of place as the one in Hogsmeade.

"Where are we?" Anthony asked.

"Muggle London," said his father. "We need to go to King's Cross, but we have to get there the Muggle way. They won't let anyone apparate in or use the Floo network. I come here sometimes for work. This way!" he continued, leading the way to a set of stairs going underground. A few people stopped and stared at them in their robes, then shrugged.

"It used to be much harder," Muriel said. "But these days, everyone wears what they want anyway, so we don't look so out of place in our robes."

They reached the turnstile, where a man asked for their tickets. Mr. Prewett gave a great sneeze. "Confundus!" he said in the middle of it, using the motion of his hand as cover for his wand. The guard smiled and waved them through, looking disoriented.

"Will he be all right?" Anthony asked.

"Oh yes," said Mr. Prewett. "But as we don't have any Muggle money, a little charm every now and then doesn't hurt!" Mrs. Prewett clearly thought differently by the pained look on her face, but said nothing. They boarded the long silver tube which pulled up. When they arrived, Anthony blinked his eyes up at the giant building through the blinding sunlight. Two massive windows adorned the front, while a tall clock announced the time on top of the roof. Everyone was coming and going, not paying attention to anything other than where they were supposed to be.

"Platform 8, Platform 9, Platform 10," said Mrs. Prewett walking them along the rows. "Here we are!" She pointed to a pillar between platforms 9 and 10.

"Where?" asked Anthony.

"Through the pillar," she answered. "I know it looks like solid brick, but appearances can be deceiving."

"If you're nervous, just try leaning against it slowly," suggested his father.

"No, " said Anthony. "I understand." He put his hand against the pillar then, glancing around to make sure no one was watching, stepped through to the other side. It felt similar to the sensation in Hogsmeade. "So it might have been real," Anthony thought. His parents were right behind him, guiding him to a large bright-red train on the tracks. The whistle sounded.

"Oh, already?" fretted his mother. "Now remember. Be friendly. Work hard. Write! I'll send anything by owl post you may have forgotten."

His father shook his hand. "Buck up now," he said. "You'll do all right. Just focus on your studies and don't get into too much trouble! But don't forget to have some fun, either."

His mother gave him one final hug as the whistle sounded again.

"I'll be all right," said Anthony, trying to convince himself as much as his parents. He turned around and boarded the train with his trunk.

The train was filled with more children than he had ever seen. A group of older boys traveled loudly down the train. "We'd better sit down, I'm a prefect now!" one of them, who looked thin and drawn, was saying. The tall lanky boy with messy hair howled at him in reply, his friends joining in. The shortest boy in the group laughed a beat too late as they made their way to a compartment.

Most of the compartments were full, but Anthony managed to find an empty one and sit down. As the final whistle sounded, a small portly boy appeared in his compartment, out of breath.

"I didn't think I was going to make it!" he said in a thick Scottish brogue. "You mind if I sit here?" and plopped down without waiting for an answer. "I don't know what would have happened if I'd missed the train. Have to wait till next year, I expect. Sorry, I'm Mac Feegle!"

He held his hand out to Anthony, who shook it slowly.

"Anthony Prewett," he said uncertainly.

"Sorry, I'm talking too much. Everyone says I do. I just like to meet people. Everyone has a story and I'm curious about them. Me mam says I skipped first words and went straight on to sentences. I haven't shut up since! Are you Muggle-born?"

"No," Anthony said, surprised by the sudden turn in conversation. "My parents are both wizards. Today was the first time I've been to Muggle London, to take the train. How about you?"

"Me mam is a pure-blood, but me da is a Muggle. My grandparents weren't very happy when they found out about it, o' course. But they love each other, that's what matters. I hope I get married someday, I wonder what it's like to fall in love. Do you ever-oi, look, the sweets trolley!" He waved down the witch pushing the cart down the aisle of the train. "Blimey! I haven't seen so much candy since Halloween, have you?"

They each bought some pumpkin pasties and chocolate frogs, trading the cards within. Anthony, who had never had anyone to trade with before, soon ended up with several additions to his collection.

"What do you think Hogwarts will be like?" Anthony asked Mac in between bites of cauldron cakes. "My parents say they're strict. Do you think they kick people out if they're no good at magic?"

"Nah," said Mac. "Me mam says it's the best place to find who you are. She thought she wanted to be a healer growing up, but then found out she had a knack for ancient runes. She went into translating and met my da, who digs up old bones and clay pots. She was in Hufflepuff. Which house do you think you'll be in?"

"Dunno," replied Anthony. "My dad was in Slytherin and my mum was in Ravenclaw. I think I'd be happy in any house." He looked around the train and all the types of people there. "Any house except theirs, anyway." He pointed to the group they had seen earlier, who were now taking turns jeering at a skinny boy with a sallow face and lank black hair. The boy muttered under his breath and moved on.

"I know what you mean," said Mac. "My folks would beat me if I acted like that. Oi, I think we're here!"

"We'd better change," Anthony said.

The train slowed to a stop and all the students exited. Most students were led towards giant horseless carriages, while the first years were beckoned by a giant of a man who stood at least a head over everyone else. Looking carefully, Anthony could just barely make out a face among a mass of bushy hair. "Firs' years over here!" he was shouting. "Firs' years this way!"

Anthony and Mac looked at each other and shrugged. "Think we can trust him?" Anthony said. "I don't see we have a choice," replied Mac. They followed the man to a lake on which dozens of boats floated, each with its own lantern. "Ge' in the boats, two a' a time," he said. "They'll take yeh straigh to Hogwarts."

The students carefully piled into the boats, which glided across the lake towards a giant castle. They got out and climbed up the giant staircase, where they were stopped by a young woman with a stern face and a severe bun.

She looked around at them and the chattering students immediately quieted down, suspecting she was not to be tested.

"Welcome first years," she said in a Scottish accent. "I am Professor McGonagall, your Transfiguration professor. Through those doors is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This will be the first year of seven, in which you will find out what sort of witch or wizard you are. If you work hard and study well, you may find you will excel in areas you never dreamed of. If, however, you make trouble and choose laziness, you may face unexpected consequences and waste your education entirely.

Soon you will be sorted into Houses. The loyal Hufflepuffs, the brave Gryffindors, the intellectual Ravenclaws, and the ambitious Slytherins. There are no good or bad houses, only what you make of them. When you are sorted, you will be seated with other members of your house. Understood?"

There was a general murmur and nodding of heads. The great doors opened upon a room filled with tables. Enchanted candles hung from the ceiling and the four house banners decorated the walls. The students filed in behind McGonagall and she called them one at a time. Anthony had trouble seeing exactly what they were doing until he got near the front, when he noticed a small stool with a battered hat on it. The hat sang a song about the four houses being united, gathering together for greater strength against unknown foes. He watched as a student was called, the hat set upon his head, and his house announced for everyone to hear.

"Margaret Garlick!" "Gryffindor!"

"Inigo Montoya!" "Slytherin!"

"Mac Feegle!" "Hufflepuff!" He caught Anthony's eye and waved as he went over to a table decorated in yellow and black.

"Regulus Black!" "Slytherin!" The skinny boy got up from the stool triumphantly, grinning, and sauntered to the cheering table.

Finally, it was Anthony's turn. He gulped nervously. What if the hat told him he didn't belong? He sat down and the hat was placed upon his head. "Many qualities in you, dear boy," it said. "There's something in you that I wonder if you know you have. You'll need plenty of bravery, I expect." It shouted out, "Gryffindor!" A nearby table decorated in red and gold erupted into applause. Anthony was disappointed to see the group from the train at the table; he chose a seat far from them.

After the sorting, a man got up from the teachers' table and stood in front of a podium. He had a long beard and twinkling blue eyes that seemed to see through every student there. Anthony liked him at once and judging from the reception, so did most others. Most of the tables and a few Slytherins erupted into applause, although the Slytherins were quickly silenced by their peers.

"Who's that?"Anthony asked an older boy next to him.

"That's Dumbledore," the boy said. "He's said to be the greatest wizard of our time, but he's our headmaster."

Dumbledore, like McGonagall, quieted the room with a stern look. "First, a few announcements," he began. "The Whomping Willow is still out-of-bounds. Mr. Filch would like to remind everyone that the Forbidden Forest is also off-limits to everyone not with a teacher. He would like everyone to consult his office for a list of the latest banned objects."

"Now, some of you may have heard some stories. But I assure you there is no safer place than Hogwarts. You may focus on your education and studies without worry of the world outside. And now, as they say, let's eat."

Mountains of food appeared on the tables in front of them. Anthony wasn't sure what to start with first, finally settling on some roast chicken. After the feast, they all started towards their common rooms. The tired boy and other prefect called out, "This way, first years! Keep up, don't get lost!" and Anthony wondered when he would get to go somewhere without being led by the nose. The prefects stopped at a large portrait of a lady in pink and said, "Love and peace." The portrait swung wide, eliciting a gasp from the first-years. Anthony and three other boys walked up the stairs to their shared dormitory, where their trunks were already waiting and unpacked.

"Brilliant!" said one of the boys, going to a large contraption on his nightstand. It looked like a box with a disc on top. A spindle on an arm was lifted up.

"What is that?" Anthony asked curiously. The other two boys hovered nearby.

"It's a record player," the boy answered. "I found a way to charm it so it doesn't need electricity. Watch." He pulled the arm down so the needle was touching the disc, pointed his wand at it, and said, "Revolvo!" Electric guitars, drums, and voices singing "Come together..right now..over me!" filled the room. Anthony drummed his fingers to the drum beat in the song.

"You said something called electricity?" asked one of the boys.

"Yeah," replied Bertram. "My parents are both Muggles. "They didn't believe me at first when I told them I could do magic."

"My parents are both pureblood," said a boy who was almost as wide as he was tall. "We can trace it back for generations."

"You like drumming?" asked the boy with the record player as he noticed Anthony. "By the way, my name is Bertram Aubrey. If you like drumming, listen to this!" He took off the record and put on one entitled "Rush."

"Yeah," said Anthony, drumming on the table out loud this time. "This is great! I haven't heard anything like it!"

As the other boys introduced themselves as Ethan Wood and Charles Goyle, Anthony let himself get lost in the music and the complicated drum pattern. He saw himself and friends on a stage, a roaring crowd in front of them. "Here's a cover of the song that got me intro drumming," he was saying. "One, two three-"

Bertram was shaking him, the music stopped. The other boys were staring at him. "Are you ok?" asked Bertram. "You kind of stared off into the distance for a second."

Anthony blinked. "I'm ok," he said. "Just daydreaming."

"We should get to bed," said Ethan. "Classes tomorrow."

"I'm looking forward to Quidditch!" said Charles as they turned in. "I don't care about classes as much as being part of a team and getting respect."

Anthony considered Charles' large girth and said, "Maybe! You might make a good beater."

The boys continued chatting until one by one, they fell asleep.