CHAPTER III
"Should we – you know – wake him?" A thick voice interrupted Draco's dreams and, in an attempt to ignore them, the young boy turned over in his sleep. The perpetrator of the voice obviously took this as encouragement. "Draco! Draco!"
Thoroughly annoyed, Draco pried his eyes open, only to be faced with the grinning faces of Crabbe and Goyle. They were already dressed in their school robes which, although being too big for them, gave them an air of maturity. Too bad I knew them already, thought Draco, a smile threatening to produce itself on his face, despite his bad mood.
"What do you want?" he grumbled angrily, looking them in the eye. "I was sleeping, if you hadn't guessed."
"We're nearly there, Draco." The smaller boy, Goyle spoke up. "Thought you'd appreciate the extra time to get ready, maybe take a look at who else is on the train. Did you know Pansy made it Hogwarts?" Draco nodded. He had known Pansy Parkinson practically all his life. Her family had always had close relations to his own; in fact, her mother had even been a bridesmaid at his parent's wedding. Due to this, the two children had spent endless hours together, planning spells and charms they could use on any unsuspecting Muggles if and when they saw them. "Course you did," continued Goyle, "anyway, she's a few compartments down; seemed pretty keen to see you again. Sure there's nothing going on?"
"No," Draco bit back. It always irritated him how people assumed there was something going on between him and Pansy. Couldn't a guy just be friends with a girl and keep it at that? "Maybe I'd better get changed now," he told them and, when they failed to take the hint, continued, "alone?"
"Oh … sure." Eventually, the two boys left him to his empty compartment. Draco rolled his eyes as he opened one of the smaller trunks. His black Hogwarts robe was lying on the top, neatly folded in such a way that it wouldn't get creased. His mother's doing, Draco assumed. Pulling off his sweater, Draco wrapped the robe around his shoulders, clasping the buttons which lined the front.
The uniform at Hogwarts was fairly lax. Students were required to wear their school robes whenever they had lessons. For Muggles, Draco supposed, stifling a snigger as he repeated the word in his head, it would be unusual, but for Draco it was no new concept. He had been wearing robes since he could remember. The particular garment he wore now was lined on the inside, ensuring warmth. They fitted perfectly; Madam Malkin certainly knew her trade. Draco was just inspected the final few touches when the door to his carriage opened once again.
"What do you want now?" Draco, facing the opposite direction, had no idea how had just opened his compartment, but suspected it to be either Crabbe or Goyle.
"Just coming to see how you look," a rather coarse voice informed him.
"Pansy." Draco spun around to greet her, his voice cordial, "you look –" His voice trailed off as Pansy, unable to resist the urge, spun around for him, "- great."
"I know," Pansy sighed, throwing herself into a empty seat. In fairness, Draco didn't think Pansy looked all that good but he had learnt, during their many years of friendship, this was what she wanted to hear. "You don't look so bad yourself, Drakie." Draco winced, he hated it when she called him that; it sounded so – so childish and well, Muggle-ish. "What a surprise seeing Crabbe and Goyle here," Pansy continued, "and I've already seen the Weasleys."
Draco made a face once again. The Weasleys were a rather large family who the Malfoys did not care to know. With five children and a severe lack of money, in Draco's mind, the Weasleys were practically Muggles. They made no secret of the father's love of anything to do with non-wizarding folk and, all in all, they were a disgrace to the wizarding world. Apparently, one of the youngest Weasleys would be in Draco's year – he'd be a Gryffindor for sure; following in the footsteps of his brothers.
"Ten minutes, dears," called a friendly voice from the compartment door. Both children looked up at the same time to see the recoiling head of a plump witch pushing an empty cart down the train.
"Nearly there," Draco repeated. The excitement was building up inside of him; this was what the last few years at his previous school had been building up to; Hogwarts. "I wonder what House you'll be in, Pansy," he teased her, knowing exactly how she would reply.
"What House?" she snorted, showing her obvious amusement at Draco's supposed ignorance, "Slytherin, of course!" Draco turned to look out the train window, smiling as he did so. His friend was such a simple creature. In fact, he guessed that they wouldn't still have been friends if she had been able to match his intelligence. "I suppose you'll be in Slytherin too," Pansy continued, Draco's sarcastic comment going utterly unnoticed for what it really was, "it'll be a bit of a shock if you aren't, eh?"
Draco smiled sardonically.
"Yeah, whatever." Draco, once again, diverted his eyes from the boisterous girl. She continued rummaging through a small trunk, obviously on a mission to find some forgotten object. "Hogwarts," Draco breathed to himself as the train slowly pulled to a halt. The castle was not yet in view and the young boy shivered with the anticipation of finally seeing what he had read in books for many years.
Leaving their luggage on the train as instructed, Draco followed Pansy out of the compartment and jumped off the train onto a small darkly lit platform. Draco squinted, his eyes taking a while to adjust to the sudden darkness. The air was chilly but not entirely unpleasant. Draco leant his head back, wanting to feel more of the cool air on his face.
"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here! Follow me." A loud rumbling voice and a bright yellow light brought Draco's head back level again. Scanning the area, it wasn't long before Draco had worked out who the voice belonged to. Standing far above the heads of the small first-year students was an over-sized man who Draco could only assume was some kind of giant. Draco smirked at the sight of the large creature with a thick fuzzy beard. He looked totally out of place in amongst the latest recruits to the school of wizardry. Probably a gardener, Draco remarked to himself, certainly nothing more.
Joining the line of his fellow first-years, Draco followed the large man as he led the way down a narrow path that fell steeply down the side of a hill. To each side of the path, Draco could just make out the faint outlines of thick tree trunks. The castle was well guarded, he had to admit that. He doubted anyone would find the castle unless they were looking specifically for it.
"We'll see the castle in a minute," squeaked a small boy, excitedly, his Irish accent slurring his words carelessly.
"Oh, fun," Draco mumbled, sarcastically, not really intending the boy to hear. The boy, however, turned out to be correct. As the troupe took a sharp right turn, the foremost of the crowd stopped in their tracks. Within seconds, there was a build-up of the first-year students, all wanting to have their first glimpse of the school where they would spend the next seven years of their life. Draco pushed through the crowd to get a better look himself. In front of where he stood was a small path leading down to still black waters. In the distance, stood Hogwarts. A mangle of turrets and towers, the castle was an impressive feature. Even Draco was taken-aback. The gleam of the moonlight upon the water of the lake only seemed to enhance every aspect of the castle's structure.
"This way t' the boats," the giant began to say, "no more'n four to a boat though." Instantly there ensued a scramble of arms and legs as the students attempted to organise themselves into the small boats. Draco found himself in a boat with Crabble, Goyle and the small Irish boy. Once satisfied everyone had found a seat, the giant spoke again; "FORWARD," he bellowed.
The small fleet of boats glided off from where they had been harboured and began the slow, yet short, journey towards the castle. Each boat was a similar sight; silent first-year students all looking up to the great castle that lay ahead.
"Wow, are you excited?" The Irish boy next to Draco spoke up again.
"Yes. Ecstatic," Draco answered bluntly. Giving him a funny look, the boy closed his mouth and turned back to look at his new school. In truth, Draco was just as overwhelmed as anyone but, as if by nature, he had found it necessary to answer in the way he had. The boy annoyed him. He had no right to be talking to Draco Malfoy.
Gradually, the boats began to slow as they drew up to what appeared to be an underground harbour. In hardly any time, all the first-years had clambered out of their boats and were following the giant up a passageway leading further into the rock. They stopped when they came to a huge door. Taking his time to take long, deliberated knocks on the door, the giant turned back to flash a grin at the waiting students.
Almost immediately after the third and final knock, the heavy oak door swung open. In the doorway stood a tall black-haired witch with a stern face and seemed to glare down the end of her nose at the new students. Draco knew the Professor to be McGonagall, the Head of the Gryffindor house for at least twenty years now. In fact, Draco was convinced that she had even been working at the school when his father had attended.
"Thank you, Hagrid, I'll take them from here," the lady spoke as she led the group of children up to another set of heavy doors. Here, she stopped, turning to look at them. "Welcome to Hogwarts," she began, before offering the new students a brief introduction to the school. She began describing the Sorting process before continuing onto the actual houses. "The houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin," Professor McGonagall told them. Draco smiled with pride at the sound of the last house. "The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes. Might I suggest you make yourselves look –" the Professor paused, taking a quick glance at the students, "presentable while you are waiting."
As the Professor left the students, a low murmur arose. The first-years were either nervous or excited, or both. Draco kept to himself, refusing to join in whatever whispered conversation Pansy Parkinson was having with Crabbe and Goyle. Draco was sure he had nothing to worry about. He didn't know what he would have to do during the Sorting Ceremony, but he knew he'd be able to handle it. If it involved any wizardry, he was convinced he knew more than most of the young wizards surrounding him.
"Right, now form an orderly line." The old witch had returned and, with her back against the doors, was addressing the new students. Draco stepped behind Pansy and with a sigh of apprehension, waited for the double doors to be opened.
When they were, even Draco couldn't hold back the gasp of amazement that escaped his lips. Thousands of flickering candles lit the room, each floating above one of the four long tables. Students sat at either side of these tables, every head turned towards where the new students shuffled anxiously at the back of the Hall. At the front of the Hall was placed a long, albeit shorter, table where the teachers sat. Moving quickly, Professor McGonagall led the new students down the Hall, past the staring faces of the current students until they gathered in a crowd at the front. Trying to take in as much as humanely possible, Draco scanned the room. It was bigger than he had expected and the ceiling – the ceiling looked as if it was indeed the genuine night's sky. Stars sparkled on a deep velvety black sky and for a moment, Draco was bewitched by the sight. The night had always been his favourite time, when he had felt completely alone, entirely detached from the world in which he lived.
Hushed whispers filled the air as Professor McGonagall returned to face the students, placing a four-legged stool in front of them. Atop the stood perched an old pointed wizard's hat. Had he not been so overwhelmed, Draco would have smirked at the sight. The hat was dirty-looking with a number of darned patches leading up to its point. Draco stared intently at the hat, wondering what on earth it had to do with the Sorting process. When the murmurs quietened down and the Hall was filled only with complete silence, the hat twitched. A loud and powerful voice began to sing, the words echoing around the Hall. It didn't take long before Draco realised it was in fact the hat that was singing.
Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowler's black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achiever their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!
As the Hall erupted with applause, Draco almost laughed. All I have to do is try on a stupid hat, he thought to himself, looking around to see what would happen next. Once the noise had ceased, Professor McGonagall once again addressed the students.
"When I call your name, please sit on the stool and put the hat on to be sorted," she announced cordially. Holding a long roll of parchment in front of her, Professor McGonagall squinted through her glasses and read out the first name on the list. "Abbott, Hannah!"
Hearing her name being called, a clumsy little girl with blonde pigtails stepped out from behind Draco. With her face ever reddening, she almost tiptoed to the stool, picked up the hat, put it on her head and sat lightly on the edge of the stool. The hat, being rather large, covered her eyes completely. After a moment's pause, the hat spoke up.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" it shouted.
Draco watched as almost every student sitting at the table to the far right stood up, smiling broadly and applauding their newest recruit. The din had barely died down before Professor McGonagall called the next name.
As the new students were sorted into the various houses, Draco shuffled from one foot to the other. As his nerves began to fray, he wondered just what it would be like if he wasn't sorted into Slytherin. With a shudder, Draco decided it didn't even bear thinking about. Crabbe and Goyle were swiftly sorted into Slytherin, and Draco awaited the moment he would climb up onto the stool. Draco's attention snapped back to the stool and the Sorting Hat as the young girl he had bumped into a couple of times stepped forward. Draco thought he had heard Professor McGonagall call her Hermione Granger, something like that.
The bushy-haired girl practically skipped her way to the stool and pulled the hat eagerly onto her head. A proud smile firmly planted on her face, Malfoy almost snickered out loud.
"GRYFFINDOR," the hat announced in a loud voice. Draco wasn't surprised.
"Malfoy, Draco." It wasn't long before his own name was called out and Draco, with a shrug of his shoulder, pushed to the front of the crowd and began the slow walk to the stool. The journey seemed to take forever and Draco was surprised just how nervous he actually felt. Remembering the words of his father, Draco grimaced, hoping against hope he would be sorted into Slytherin.