[This is just a precaution. The reviewers so far are great.]
Reviews for Chapter 7:
[I might not put up reviews on chapters except the ones that come in before I update this chapter. But don't worry. When I'm finished with this story, I'll make a thank you list with all updated reviewers. It will be updated accordingly.]
Myk: Thanks again. I think you review this story the most. I do seem to be slipping up a lot, haven't I? I'll try my best not to anymore. Thanks again!
Due to a special request, these memories will now be written in normal font except for the exception of flashbacks or thoughts
Also, you will notice that not everything is exactly the same in my memories as in J.K. Rowlings books, but they still have the general idea.
The Thinking Cap song does not belong to me.
Chapter 9: Memories Part V: First Year at Hogwarts
Harry looked again at the piece of parchment he was given. Be at station nine and three quarters by eleven o'clock. Today was the day he was to take the train, or whatever they used to get to, Hogwarts School of Witchraft and Wizardry. He had checked with his uncle yesterday just to be sure he was taking Harry. His uncle had agreed with a snicker and when he whispered in Dudley's ear, Dudley snickered too. Harry was worried, but as he thought, it couldn't be too bad, could it? He heard Aunt Petunia calling him, saying that Vernon was already up and waiting for him and how dare he make the person who feeds him wait for the guest. Harry groaned, which he usually did in the mornings.
Harry got up slowly, more to his benefit than to make his aunt agitated. "Get up boy! NOW!" she yelled, obviously annoyed.
"Coming," Harry called, almost lazily. He opened the door to his cupboard just as a rain of dust came tumbling down from the roof of the cupboard. Harry rolled his eyes. Dudley was jumping down the stairs again. What Harry was wearing would have made a homeless child feel that he/she was receiving fine things. He had donned on his gray rags that his aunt was going to make him wear if he went to that Muggle public school. His hair was untidy and unkempt, with his glasses askew. Harry wore long pants with the bottom looking like one of those pants in Aladdin; it was folded up so much, for they were Dudley's OLD pants. (I mean, if he wore those before, how big is he now?)
Harry walked into the kitchen. His Aunt Petunia tsked at his clothes but didn't do anything. She merely pursed her lips and let out, "Your Uncle Vernon and nice little Duddykins are waiting for you for already," she checked the clock, "three minutes. You are going to get it when you get back from that - that - that school of yours. You kept them waiting a whole THREE MINUTES!
Harry snickered quietly. "It's more like nice BIG Duddykins," he thought, although he didn't dare voice his feelings to the Dursleys. "Yes, I know," said Harry wearily. "That converts to 180 seconds and a lot more milliseconds, microseconds, nanoseconds, picoseconds, etc." Harry walked out of the kitchen, struggling to carrying his trunk with Hedwig and her cage balanced on top. Within minutes, he was outside, lugging his luggage around to the garage, where his Uncle Vernon and cousin were waiting.
Uncle Vernon barked, "Well, it's about time!" He got in the car while Harry went to the back to put his luggage in the trunk. Afterwards, he sat down in the car and they were off.
The trip to Kings Cross was pretty much uneventful, if you didn't count Dudley hitting Harry nonstop. By the time they reached there, Harry had a huge bruise on his shoulder. Uncle Vernon went to get trolleys. Harry thought it was unusually nice of him, but didn't say anything. Uncle Vernon got into the car and drove off. It wasn't until five minutes later that Harry realized why Uncle Vernon was so nice. Harry had gone towards platform nine, expecting to see platforms at every quarter number. Unfortunately, that was not the case. From Platform Three, instead of going to Platform Three and One Quarter, it jumped straight to Platform Four. Harry was getting very nervous now, indeed. His fears were confirmed when he reached Platform Nine. There was Platform Nine, a very solid brick wall, and Platform Ten. Harry was starting to get worried. He asked a guard about a Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. The guard didn't know any and asked Harry if he had eyes. There was clearly only Platform Nine and Platform Ten. Next, Harry asked him about the train that left at eleven o'clock. The guard answered that there was none and walked away talking about crazy people.
Harry was getting desperate. There wasn't that much time left to get onto the platform; he was going to miss the train! Just then, he heard some converstation.
"Packed with Muggles of course - "
Harry perked up. He spun around and saw a group of six walking towards him. All of them had flaming red hair. All six were wearing Muggle clothing, although Harry could tell they weren't very good at it. They were carrying huge trunks with trolleys and they had an owl. "They had an owl," Harry thought excitedly. "That means that they had a great chance of being wizards. I mean, who else but a wizard would carry an owl and call people Muggles."
"Now what's the platform number?" the mother asked the five kids.
"Nine and three-quarters," piped up a girl. "Can't I go Mom, please?"
"No, you're still too young. You'll go next year. We are tight for time. Percy, you go first."
"But Mom," the girl whined.
Harry watched carefully as the oldest boy headed towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Careful not to blink, lest he miss something important, Harry watched Percy disappear just as a crowd of Muggles walked by. He cursed inwardly. Harry watched even more carefully as another boy headed towards the barrier. It was one of the twins. Harry watched as he walked straight at the barrier and then - disappeared."
Harry knew that he had to go ask them now. He pushed his trolley towards the red-haired people and asked, trying to be polite, "Um - um - I'm new and I was just wondering how to - how to -"
"Platform," the mother finished for him. "Well, it's actually very simple, dear. Just walk straight at the barrier between stations nine and ten. Do not be afraid. Better do it at a run for the first time."
Harry thanked them and turned towards the barrier. It looked very solid. He started walking towards it, but then picked up speed. He was now running full tilt and closed his eyes when he saw the barrier approaching. He was going to crash, he just knew it. But Harry felt nothing, and when he opened his eyes, he saw a gleaming train in front of it that had 'Hogwarts Express' printed on it. Looking back, he saw the last redhead coming through the entrance and saw a sign above it that read, 'Platform Nine and Three-Quarters".
Harry giddily made his way to the train. On the way, he heard snatches of conversation. "Show us Lee," yelled a group of people to his right.
Harry managed to drag his trunk to the train, but then ran into a problem. How in the world was he supposed to drag his trunk up the steps? Just then, the two twin redheads came up.
"Need some help?" they asked. Harry gratefully accepted their help. "I'm Fred Weasley, and that's George." The two struggled with the trunk. They managed to get it into an empty compartment, where they left Harry, not before seeing his scar and exclaiming his name, though.
Harry looked out of the window. The few remaining students were getting ready to board the train. "Hey guess who we saw," the twins, who Harry had spotted on the platform, chorused. "Harry Potter!"
"Oh, can I see him, Mom!" wailed the little girl. Harry turned his head away.
"You've already seen him, Ginny, and the boy isn't to be gawked at like an animal in the zoo. He was ever polite when asking how to get onto the platform. Ron, you've got something on your nose." Mrs. Weasley, at least Harry assumed that it was her, bent down to wipe the thing off the youngest boy's, who looked to be Harry's age, nose. The boy, whose name was Ron, bent away.
"No, Mom," he yelled.
"Aww...Has little Ronniekins got somethin on his nosie?" one of the twins said teasingly.
"Shut up, Fred," Ron said. Just then, the whistle blew. Mrs. Weasley told them to hurry up and get on the train. Ginny was crying about not being able to go.
"Don't worry, Ginny," one of twins yelled at her. "We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat, but then seeing the look on his mother's face, added, "Just kidding!"
The train started picking up speed. Harry's compartment door opened, and Ron peeked in. "Hi," he said. "Mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full."
Harry said that it was fine if he sat here.
"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron said, not knowing that Harry already knew his name.
"Harry Potter," Harry answered carelessly. "Nice to meet you."
"Are you really? Do you have that scar..." Ron asked eagerly. Harry lifted his bangs and let Ron get a good look at his lightning bolt shaped scar. "Bloody hell," Ron said quietly. "I thought it was one of Fred and George's jokes."
The rest of the train ride was pretty much uneventful, except for a kid whom Harry had met before in the robe shop at Diagon Alley. He came in with two fat goons that reminded Harry of Dudley behind him. "Hi," he introduced himself. "Fancy meeting you here. So you are Harry Potter. I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."
At this, Ron gave a strangled laugh.
"You think my names funny, don't you," Malfoy said. Harry like him even less now, with that sneer on his face. "I know you of course. One of the Weasleys. They all have red hair and are too poor to feed their family. You'll do good not to associate yourself with riffraff like Weasley here." He held out his hand, but Harry didn't take it.
"I think I can decide who to associate with," he said, glaring daggers at Malfoy.
Draco Malfoy looked a bit put off and left with his two goons without a word.
"Not associating with riffraff. Who does he think he is? My father? No wait, he resembles my mother more. No, wait again. My mother looks a lot better than him. I know! He resembles some slimy git that I'm sure I'll meet later," Harry muttered darkly. "Who's he to make my decisions."
Ron had laughed at what Harry said. "That was bloody brilliant," he said. "The Malfoys were always within You-Know-Who's inner circle. And how did you know about Snape?"
"Who's Snape," Harry asked, utterly confused.
"You mean, you don't know?" Ron asked, looking scandalized. "Snape is just the worst teacher there. My brothers say he's a slimy git that never washes his hair. They always play pranks on him."
"Oh," was Harry's bright answer.
"Anyways, what's your Quidditch team?"
"What's Quidditch?" Harry asked confused.
"Oh, you dont' know?" Ron asked. "Could've guessed, living with those lousy Muggles."
"That's what Hagrid said," Harry answered laughing a little.
"Yeah, well, well, anyway, Quidditch is this game played on broomsticks and there are - ". Ron talked to Harry all about Quidditch, its aspects, its best moves, its teams.
Just as Ron finished explaining to Harry about the game in Transylvania with the Chudley Cannons, which happened to be Ron's favorite team, a lunch trolley came by.
"Anything off the carts, dears?" the woman pushing the trolley asked. There was an assortment of candies and sweets. Harry, not knowing what's good and what's bad, bought a little of everything. Ron mumbled that he didn't need anything and that he had brought sandwiches.
Ron unpacked his sandwiches, and said quietly, "She always forgets that I don't like cornbeef."
Harry looked at Ron's squashed sandwich, and said, "Swap you for one of those."
Ron turned pink and said,"Oh, you don't want that. She hasn't much time, with so many of us and all."
Harry handed him a pastry. It was the first time he could share, and made the best of it.
While the pair was happily munching on the snacks Harry had brought, a girl with brown bushy hair walked in. "Hello, I'm Hermione Granger. Have you seen a toad? A boy lost one."
"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron answered.
"Harry Potter."
"Are you really? I've read about you. You're in many books," Hermione looked excited. Then she turned to Ron, who had his wand out and was trying to turn his rat, Scabbers, yellow. Ron turned red and started to perform a spell. It didn't work, because it wasn't really a spell, but Ron didn't know that.
"Are you sure that is really a spell? I've read all my coursebooks and memorized them and tried simple magic and they all worked for me." After that, Hermione walked out saying, "Please tell me if you see a toad."
"I hope I'm not in her house," Ron muttered.
The girl named Hermione Granger came into their compartment a little while later. "We'll be at Hogwarts in five minutes," she said. "So you'd better change into your robes."
The two boys changed into their midnight black Hogwarts robes and sure enough, within a few minutes, they reached Hogwarts. "Firs' years over here, firs' years over here. How ar' you doin, Harry?" It was Hagrid.
Ron was glancing at Hagrid shellshocked. Harry had told Ron that Hagrid was big, but Ron never thought that he was THIS big. They followed Hagrid to the lake, where Hagrid told them a huge giant squid lived. Ron shuddered. Hagrid had said four people to each boat, so Ron and Harry got into one. They were joined a little later by a boy named Neville who had lost his toad and Hermione Granger. As they turned a bend in the lake, they got their first glance at Hogwarts Castle. It was more than anyone expected. Everyone let out a gasp of awe. When they finally reached land, Hagrid came out, noticed a toad, and said,"Is this anyone's toad?"
Neville Longbottom went to claim it and said happily,"Trevor...I thought I had lost you."
"Be careful wit' 'hat toad," Hagrid warned him. He led them up the great stone steps to a pair of large brown doors made of polished cherrywood. "I read somewhere that the sap of the cherry tree contains a Muggle poison named cyanide," Hermione Granger whispered behind them. Suddenly, the great doors opened, and a stern looking witch welcomed them.
"Hello," she said. "My name is Professor McGonagall and welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It's OK, Hagrid. I can take them from here." Professor McGonagall led them through the grand great hall, full of paintings that moved. She told them to wait here to be sorted. They were outside the two doors that opened to the dining area. A group of ghosts floated through the wall, discussing something rather important about a certain Peeves, whoever that was. This was a shock to everyone, except Hermione Granger, who had memorized Hogwarts, A History and knew about the ghosts. A ghost said to the new students,"First years waiting to be sorted, I suppose. Hope to see you in Hufflepuff, my old house." The ghosts floated away.
Harry looked nervously around. Ron was going on ranting about having to fight a troll and Hermione Granger was silently going over all the spells she knew in her head. He didn't see Draco Malfoy. Suddenly, the doors in front of them opened, and Professor McGonagall led them into the dining hall with a slip of parchment in her hand. Harry looked around in wonder, and felt almost everyone around him do the same. The ceiling had been enchanted to look like the outside weather. The long white tables had all students sitting in them. Professor McGonagall led them down the center aisle and stopped in front of a stool, right in front of the Head Table, where all the teachers sat. On top of the stool was a hat. All the students stared at the hat. Then, suddenly, a rip opened near the brim like a mouth and the hat started to sing:
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers 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 achieve 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!"
The great hall rang with applause. Harry was a little nervous about trying on the hat with everyone watching, as was most of the first years. The sorting began. Professor McGonagall started with 'Abbot, Hannah' who was sorted into Hufflepuff. The Hufflepuff table began clapping and cheering as Hannah took of the hat, carefully placed it on the stool, and made her way to the Hufflepuff table. So on and on, the sorting went. Harry watched as Hermione Granger was sorted into Gryffindor. Ron groaned. Harry had learned that every Weasley in history had been sorted into Gryffindor. It put great pressure on Ron, but even if Ron was sorted into Gryffindor, he wouldn't enjoy it because of Hermione's know-it-all voice. Harry also watched as Draco Malfoy was, unsurprisingly, sorted into Slytherin. Ron hissed at him as he sat down.
Too soon, it was Harry's turn. Stares followed him all the way up to the stool.
"Potter?"
"Did she say Potter?"
"The Harry Potter?"
Harry nervously made his way up to the stool oblivious of the stares and gawks at his forehead. He put on the sorting hat. It slipped over his head and covered his eyes. Harry was staring at inky blackness, the inside of the Thinking Cap.
"Ahhh...Difficult. Very difficult. You have a thirst to prove yourself, and there are brains, definitely brains."
While the sorting hat was contemplating which house to sort Harry into, Harry was desperately thinking,"Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin". He had heard that almost all the dark wizards known in the world have come from Slytherin.
"You would do very well in Slytherin," came the hat's voice. Harry kept on desperately hoping that he would not be sorted into Slytherin. "Not Slytherin, eh? You would do well in Slytherin. No? Well, then it better be GRYFFINDOR!" The hat shouted the house name to the hall.
At once, loud applause rang from the Gryffindor table. Harry walked over there and sat down in an empty seat. Percy Weasley shook Harry's hand while the twins Fred and George were chanting,"We got Potter! We got Potter!" over and over again.
Finally, it came to be Ron's turn. Harry thought he looked a bit green and gave him a thumbs up for encouragement. The sorting hat had barely touched Ron's head when the rip opened at the edge and, "GRYFFINDOR!"
Ron, relieved and smiling broadly, went to sit next to Harry while Percy congratulated him.
"Well done, Ron. Well done. Mom and Dad will be pleased."
Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster, stood up and silence fell on the Great Hall. "Welcome to another year," he said. "I need to remind you that the Forbidden Forest is forbidden, hence the name. Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has also asked me to inform you that this year, Flying Whizbees have been added to the list of forbidden items. Now, I have only a few more words to say before we begin the feast. Nitwit. Blubber. Oddment. Tweak." Dumbledore sat back down and instantly, trays of food appeared.
Harry stared at his plate, surprised that it had filled up. Looking at Percy Weasley, their prefect for the year, Harry asked, "Is Dumbledore mad?"
"Yeah? Is he?" Ron asked.
Percy looked up from his plate. "Best not talk with your mouth full, Ron. To answer your question, Harry, Dumbledore is a genius, the best headmaster and wizard I had ever known, but yes, he is a bit mad."
Ron and Harry started stuffing themselves with food. Hermione looked disapprovingly at them, but they ignored her. The Gryffindor ghost floated towards them. "Hello," he said. "My name is Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, resident ghost of Gryffindor tower."
Ron took one look at him and burst out,"I know who you are. My brothers told me about you. Your Nearly Headless Nick."
"Yes," the ghost replied curtly. "But I prefer to be called Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington."
"How can you be nearly headless?" someone at the Gryffindor table asked.
"Like this," Nearly Headless Nick replied, not liking the direction this conversation was going. He moved his head and it fell from his neck. He would have been headless if it wasn't for the little piece of skin, like a hinge, that still connected his head and body together. Everyone at the Gryffindor table "ohhhd" and "ahhhd".
The rest of the conversation was pretty much about Quidditch.
After the feast, Harry and the rest of the students went up to their dormitories and fell asleep.
Time passed. Before Harry knew it, it was Christmas. Harry had learned many things before Christmas. For instance, Professor Snape, the Potions master, absolutely loathed Harry. Another thing was that Gringotts was robbed, but the volt that was robbed had been emptied out earlier the same day. Harry and his friends, Ron and Hermione, for Hermione had become their friend after they saved her from a troll, had reason to believe that whatever was in Vault 713 that day was now in Hogwarts. Hagrid had let something slip about a certain Nicolas Flamel. Now they were trying to find out who he was. He was in none of the books they had checked so far, but Harry had a feeling he had seen that name somewhere.
On a lighter note, Harry had made the Quidditch team as Seeker as a first year, making him the youngest Seeker for Hogwarts in a century. Now, I will attempt to describe Quidditch:
Two teams play against each other. Each team has seven players on the field at one time. Three of the players for each side are called Chasers. The Chasers pass the Quaffle, a small bright red ball about the size of a soccor ball, and try to score through one of the three hoops on their opponent's side. Ten points for each ball that goes through.
For each side, there is also a Keeper. The Keeper flies around the hoops trying to keep the other team from scoring with the Quaffle. Then, there are two beaters on each team. They fly around with a club trying to knock the big heavy jet black ball around the size of the Quaffle, the Bludger, around and unseating as many players of the opposing team. Finally, there is the Seeker. the does the most dangerous job of trying to catch the tiny golden winged ball called the Golden Snitch. Whichever Seeker catches the snitch first wins his team an extra one hundred fifty points, so they almost always win. The game only ends when the snitch is caught.
It was almost the end of the school year. Harry and Ron had found out who Nicolas Flamel finally. It was on the back of the card of Albus Dumbledore from a chocolate frog, a type of candy. Nicolas Flamel was only six hundred sixty-five years old. He was an alchemist and made the only known Sorcerer's Stone, a stone that could change any metal to gold and produces the elixir of life, which makes the drinker immortal. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had earned Gryffindor tons of points for saving the Sorcerer's Stone from Voldemort's clutches. It just happened that Voldemort was controlling a professor at Hogwarts, Professor Quirrell, and tried to steal the Sorcerer's Stone. Harry saved it, and it was destroyed. Nicolas Flamel would also die.
This was the beginning of a horrible summer for Harry, a truly horrible one, indeed.
I didn't feel that it was necessary to write out the events of finding the stone and saving it, etc. Most of you already know all this, and I wanted to get this chapter out. Only Harry's second, third, and fourth years left before I can start making up things. Can't wait. R&R!