I think this chapter had the most stuff directly form the books . There's just a lot of stuff that wouldn't change just because Harry's friends with Draco. But the next chapter should be almost entirely original.
I just noticed there was a mistake in the last chapter, Trevor was given to Neville by his uncle, not his grandma . Oh well...
Er... There seams like there was something else I was going to say...
Disclaimer: Do you really think that I'm trying to make money off this or something?
Chapter 3
The rest of the train ride passed rather uneventfully. Draco found some old friends of his, Crabbe and Goyle, to sit outside there compartment and stop anyone else form coming in.
The Hogwarts Express finally pulled into the dark Hogsmeade station and there was a big rush to get of the train and onto the platform.
Luckily for Harry and Draco, all they had to do was fallow right behind Crabbe and Goyle who, even at just eleven, where almost as big as some of the seventh years.
Once they got on the platform they heard a loud booming voice say,
"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! You all right there, Harry?"
Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.
"C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"
Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Harry thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Neville, the toadless boy, sniffed once or twice.
"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."
There was a loud "Ooooooh!"
The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle shared a boat. Harry was a little nerves to have the two biggest first years in the same boat, but not even the boat Hagrid was in dipped any lower in the water then the rest.
"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, "Right then - FORWARD!"
And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.
"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face, They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.
"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.
"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands.
Draco sniggered at this and whispered to Harry behind his hand,
"Now that he's got him why doesn't he go chuck him in the lake, see if he can swim."
"Aw come one now, the poor toad never did anything wrong, I feel kinda sorry for it" Said Harry as they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp.
"Yah your right, the toad, what did he call him? Trevor that was it. Trevor probably never did anything to disserve geting left around by Longbottom." Draco said. He then suddenly got a nasty grin on his face.
"I bet you a knut that toads smarter then its owner." Draco said as they at last came onto the smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.
"Don't be so mean." Harry said, giving Draco a play full punch in the shoulder.
"No really, I bet you that Trevor the toad would do better in our classes then Neville Longbottom." Said Draco. They had now reached the huge, oak front door.
"Everyone here? You there, still got your toad?" Harry looked over at Neville, who had a very tight hold on Trevor, as Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.
"Your on." Harry whispered to Draco as the door swung open.
Inside stood a tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this was not someone to cross.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them form here."
She pulled the doors wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys' house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.
They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices form a doorway to the right - the rest of the school must already be here - but the Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together then they would usually have done, peering about nervously.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.
"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produces outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."
Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron Wesley's nose, which had a smudge of dirt on it.
"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."
"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry herd Hermione ask Ron.
"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."
Harry's hart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school? But he didn't know any magic yet - what on earth would he have to do? He hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrives. He looked over at Draco who was currently looking into a small mirror, checking his hair. Draco seemed to be the only one not looking terrified, but Harry sensed that Draco was using the movements of smoothing his hair to hide that he was just as scared as everyone else.
Harry was trying very hard not to listen to Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which ones she'd need.
Then something happened that made him jump about a foot in the air - several people behind him screamed.
"What the ?"
He gasped. So did the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-"
"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He give us all a bad name and you know he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?"
A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.
Nobody answered.
"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?'
A few nodded mutely.
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."
"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."
Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.
"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."
Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line behind Draco, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.
Harry had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard Hermione whisper, "Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A history."
It was hard to believe there was a ceiling at there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.
Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Harry noticed that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, he stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:
(a/n: I'm not going to put the song here cuz, a: you probably already know it more or less and if not you could just look it up and b: I'm lazy and don't want to type the whole thing.)
The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.
So all I've got to do is try the hat on, thought Harry. He just wished that they could try the hat on without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking a rather a lot; Harry didn't feel cunning or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for him.
Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.
"When I call your name, you will come forth and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"
A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause -
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.
The table to the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.
"Bones, Susan!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.
"Boot, Terry!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.
"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see the Wesley twins catcalling.
"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin.
Harry was starting to feel definitely sick now. He remembered being picked for teams during gym at his old school. He always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him. Thinking of this it was easy to see why Draco didn't like muggles so much.
"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," a sandy-haired boy near Harry in line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.
"Granger, Hermione!"
Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.
"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.
"Told you," Harry herd Draco whisper beside him.
A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if he wasn't chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he's better get back on the train?
When Neville Longbottom was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When if finally shouted, "GRYFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag," who became a Ravenclaw.
"Now that's a surprise," muttered Draco beside him befor-
"Malfoy, Draco," Harry watched as his friend swaggered forward and sat down. The hat had barely touched his head when it screamed,
"SLYTHERIN!"
Draco went to join Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.
There weren't many people left now.
"Moon"..., "Nott"..., "Parkinson"..., then a pair of twins girls, "Patil" and "Patil"..., then "Perks, Sally-Anna"..., and then, at last -
"Potter, Harry!"
As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.
"Potter, did she say?"
"The Harry Potter?"
The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.
"Humm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting... So where shall I put you?"
Harry gripped the edges of the stool as he thought of the Weasleys and Hermione sitting over at the Gryffindor table, and of Draco sitting happily over with the Slytherins. Not Gryffindor, not Gryffindor, he thought.
"Not Gryffindor, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Gryffindor could help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that - no? Well, if your sure - better be SLYTHERIN!"
Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily towards the Slytherin table. He was so relieved to have been chosen and not put with Hermione, Neville, and the Weasleys that he hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. Harry sat down next to Draco and looked up at the High Table. At the end farthest from him sat Hagrid, who was looking rather disappointedly at him. Harry tried to ignore this and looked at the center of the High Table where, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Harry recognized him at once form the cards Draco had gotten on the train. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Harry spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban.
And now there were only three people left to be sorted.
"Thomas, Dean," became a Gryffindor and "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw. And, to Harry's relief, "Weasley, Ronald" became a Gryffindor. Finally the last student was Sorted, ("Zabini, Blaise," Slytherin) and Professor McGonagall rolled up here scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.
Harry looked down at his empty gold plate. He had only just realized how hungry he was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago.
Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more then to see them all there.
"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!
"Thank you!"
He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not and was turning to question Draco on Professor Dumbledores sanity when he saw that the once empty tables were now filled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.
The Dursleys had never exactly starved Harry, but he'd never been allowed to eat as much as he liked. Dudley had always taken anything that Harry really wanted, even if it made him sick. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious.
When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leavening them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding...
As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, he started to pay more attention to whet the other people at the table were talking about.
"I tried to get father to buy me a new Nimbus 2000 but he wouldn't, he said that by next year, when I'll be able to bring it to school, there would already be a better one out so there was no point in getting one now." Draco was saying to another new Slytherin, Pansy Parkinson.
"Yah I know, I tried to get my parents to let me sneak my broom in but they pointed out that, even if I did get it in, there's no where I could ride it with our getting caught." Pansy said.
Harry, who had no interest in something he hardly knew about, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.
It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes - and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead.
"Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head.
"You ok?" asked Draco
"I'm fine, just a, a bran freeze, too much ice cream."
The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher's look - a feeling that he didn't like Harry very much.
"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked a nearby older student.
"That's Professor Snape, head of Slytherin, potions master, and the best of all the teachers. That is, if you're a Slytherin, if your not well, then he's your worst nightmare." Harry had a strange feeling that, even as a Slytherin, he would be in that second category. He watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at him again.
At last, the disserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again.
"Ahem - just a few more words now that we are all feed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.
"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."
Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.
"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.
"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for there house teams should contact Madam Hooch.
"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death."
Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did.
"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.
Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.
"Everyone pick there favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"
Harry noticed that most of the Slytherins kept the mouths firmly shut as the rest of the school sang the song the golden ribbon was writing out.
Finally Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped the loudest.
"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"
The Slytherin first years followed one of there houses Prefects out of the Great Hall and down into the dungeons. Harry's legs felt like lead because he was so tired and full of food. They walk for, what seemed like forever, going deeper and deeper into the dungeons. The suddenly the Slytherin Prefect stopped in front of a bare wall.
"Python" the Prefect said and a stone door concealed in the wall slid open.
The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead oh them.
The Prefect directed them to the door on there left that led to the boys dormitories. Inside the door was a hall with seven doors, three on each side and one down at the end, each door had a sine above with a different year written on it.
The first door to there right read 'First years'.
There dorm was a simple square room housing four, four-poster beds, each draped with dark green, velvet curtains. There was a small nightstand beside each bed and there trunks were each in front of there own beds.
They were all so tired that they just put on there pajamas and went strait to bed. Harry fell asleep almost as soon as he lade down.
Perhaps he had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him that he had to transfer to Gryffindor at once because this wasn't right, and wasn't happening at all like in the books. Harry told the turban he didn't want to be in Gryffindor and that the author likes it better this way. The turban got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully - and there was Ron Weasley, laughing at him as he struggled with it - the Ron turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold - there was a burst of green light and Harry woke, sweating and shaking.
He rolled over and fell asleep again, and when he woke the next day, he didn't remember the dream at all.
Hehe. Lol I had fun with that dream .
Wow! 11 reviews! Ok so there's one that was sent twice and ones from my friend who just pointed out I had 10 reviews... but still that's not the point .
Thanks to, PeachDancer82, bluebutterfly, xikum, Akuma-sama, L, and again to Snffles 55. (no thanks to Jackie -P you didn't even read it)
PeachDancer82 - yes I'm going to keep rewriting book one .
Akuma-sama - Your question was somewhat answered in this chapter, Snape is defiantly going to hate Harry at first, but he's not going to do much about it, he can't take points of Slytherin now could he? . I think he'll grow to like Harry because, as a Slytherin, Harry will represent James a lot less then he does as a Gryffindor.
As always, R/R:Becomes addicted to reviews:
