Chapter 6

Albus found it a lot easier to watch the Sorting now that he wasn't going to have to participate. They cheered as Ferguson, Matilda was sorted into Gryffindor, and then soon enough he heard an name that he recognised. "Higgins, Elise!" She must have been on the other dragon. The girl calmly approached the hat, and put it on. After a few moments, she too was sorted into Gryffindor.

Albus waved as she came to sit down – she smiled and shyly waved back.

"Friend of yours, Allie?" Simon asked.

"Sort of. I met her in Diagon Alley. Hello, Elise."

"Hello Allie." She looked awfully young. "How is Fawkes?"

"He's all right, the man with the boats said he would look after him…" Albus found himself in the curious position of having to introduce someone, and for a moment fumbled over formalities. "Elise… this is Simon."

"How do you do," Simon said, suddenly sounding so well-bred that a few people laughed. But Elise smiled and shook his hand.

They looked up again as Lewes, Alexander was made a Gryffindor. Both Simon and Albus nearly started to clap, but stopped when they saw that Alexander Lewes was the sandy haired boy they had met on the trip. The two boys exchanged glances. Malfoy, Serendipity was next – Serendipity was sorted into Hufflepuff, and Albus heard someone near them remark, "Well that's a relief."

"What do you mean?" asked Naomi Daniels, who had been sorted before Albus.

The girl who had spoken, who was a couple of years older than them, explained. "The Malfoys were formerly all Slytherins, and most of them dark wizards at that. There has been a recent train of Hufflepuffs, but the Slytherins are still around – Iona Malfoy is in Slytherin and she's evil. Hexing and jinxing – all kinds of dark spells."

"Are you sure Serendipity's safe?" Naomi asked, in a worried tone, but the girl just laughed. "Slytherins are evil, Ravenclaws can be too, and unfortunately, Gryffindor's turned up a few bad apples as well. But there has never been a dark witch or wizard in Hufflepuff. Serendipity's probably as harmful as a baby rabbit."

"Noakes, Cassandra!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"It's her," Simon murmured, and Albus looked up. The freckled girl was walking to the Ravenclaw table.

"At least we didn't get that one," Albus mumbled. Nearby, Alexander Lewes jostled with his new housemates, unaware of the hostility directed to him. Of course he didn't know that way he'd condescendingly allowed Muggleborns had been offensive – Albus had learned long ago that most nasty people were completely unaware of the hurt they caused. The boy was at least better than the bullies Albus had known – most of them revelled in the knowledge that they could hurt people. It had been different with rich people. They didn't even notice him and his mother, but trampled them and trod on their toes, seeing them as non-people, like some sort of street furniture. These people would look surprised if you caught their attention, and look scandalised if you dared to suggest them unfair. Alexander Lewes appeared to be one of them.

When everyone had been Sorted, a stately figure rose from the front table – a man, in red embroidered robes, with neat side-burns, a moustache and carefully curled brown hair under his very tall hat. "That's Professor Zephyra," the older girl whispered. "He's strict but quite nice really."

"Attention, everyone! Welcome to Hogwarts for another year – for some of you, your first. It is a time to exert yourselves. To work hard for self-improvement. At the end of your time here – for some of you, very soon indeed – you will emerge as fully trained wizards, and I expect you all to be a credit to this, the magical institution in which you were trained. Let me see no one shirking – better that you be sent back to your parents than waste our valuable time."

Albus trembled, even though he wished for nothing more than to see Mama again. He didn't want to see her in a state of disgrace. He would hate to be a disappointment.

"Those of you who have attended Muggle schools or had Muggle tutors will be required to identify yourselves…"

Albus and Simon looked at each other. "Do you think we have a lot to catch up?" Simon asked, glumly. Albus shrugged. He knew he had a lot to catch up. And he couldn't read. What would they say when they knew?

"Now it is a time to be proud to be in Hogwarts. All rise for the singing of the school song."

Albus squinted at the unfamiliar words the Headmaster conjured up. He mumbled along next to Simon, wondering if they were singing a foreign language.

iZealous scholars stand ye tall

And laud in aspiration

Hearts aloft, with zest be full

In choice not subjugation.../i

Word after confusing word, Albus stumbled along, feeling miserably out of his depth. Afterwards, he was at least pleased to note some strained expressions in the faces of his fellow Gryffindors. Alexander Lewes was grimacing, Naomi Daniels looked shell-shocked, Elise looked bewildered and Simon shrugged.

"Someone has to change that," Naomi said. "It's dire. What was it, Latin?"

"English," Alexander said scornfully – Albus didn't quite understand how he had a reason to scorn.

"What did it mean then?" Naomi responded, with a rather smug smile. The boy looked away, and started talking to an older pupil about house points.

Professor Zephyra coughed pointedly. "If I may have your attention again. Brother Anthony is going to say grace."

If ever anyone had made Albus think of the stereotypical jolly monk, with red cheeks, a brown habit, and a glorious smile, it was Brother Anthony. He arose from the teachers' table and came forward. Albus saw a smile spread on Simon's face.

"Welcome!" Brother Anthony boomed. "To our newcomers, and our not so new! It is a good time to be thankful – of course, it is always a good time to be thankful – we teachers have your refreshing faces after such a long dull summer, and you, with any luck, feel just as pleased to see us again!" There was some laughter, and the occasional snort. "May I say that I am particularly looking forward to this meal rather than my usual boiled cabbage. In any case, it is time for a prayer."

Albus had never seen such a disordered response to the announcement of a prayer. Some heads bowed automatically, other people merely put their hands together – a few ignored him entirely and sat back, pointedly with their eyes and hands open, heads unbowed. God wasn't used with the cane in this place. Albus didn't know whether to be pleased or frightened. He bowed his own head, and clasped his hands.

"Father God, another year begins at Hogwarts and may it be one that you have blessed. Another feast our House Elves have prepared – may we be truly grateful to them and to you! I ask you to comfort those who feel afraid, and give your humility to those of us – myself included – who are beginning to feel rather proud of ourselves. We thank you for our magic – bless its use. We thank you for all the things you're going to teach us – including me – this year. In Jesus' name, amen."

There were a few echoes of the "Amen". Albus – and a few others – stared at Brother Anthony in bewilderment. Where were the admonitions, where was the preaching? Strangely for a teacher in prayer, Brother Anthony seemed to have actually addressed God rather than what Albus was used to – "Dear God, keep us all in line and well behaved and may we work hard and quietly and not vex our teachers…"

"Headmaster – if you will," Brother Anthony said. Professor Zephyra clapped his hands, and an enormous feast appeared before them. Albus and Simon gasped in unison.

Naomi smiled happily. "That is what I call a feast."

Without further pause, they began to eat. Even Flamel's food hadn't been this wonderful and this plentiful. No one spoke for a moment, their mouths stuffed full of food. When the edge had been taken off their appetite, conversations began. Simon asked a prefect politely about lessons, and they were busy discussing Potions and Transfiguration. Naomi was talking with a couple of other girls about the uniform. Elise seemed as nervous as he did, so he gave her a smile.

"How do you people all know each other?" Albus heard a Muggleborn girl exclaim. It appeared to be due to Naomi and Alexander getting into an argument. Alexander replied grandly, "Our parents were in Gryffindor. And their parents. And their parents…"

The girl looked impressed, but Naomi and a few others didn't share the expression. Naomi said, "It's just there aren't a lot of wizards, or wizarding schools. Most of us with wizarding parents know each other by sight at least – Alec here is my cousin."

"Much to my own embarrassment," Alexander added. Albus got the impression they had been arguing for a very long time.

"And mine too," Naomi said. "And…" She turned to Elise. "Elise, isn't it? I've seen you at a couple of fairs, your parents grow some amazing flowers."

Elise nodded, quietly. Then Naomi looked bewildered, and turned to Albus. "How is it I've never seen you?"

"I…" Along the table, there was a clattering, as the rest of the house stood up. A prefect arose and called loudly. "First years, follow me!"

Later on, they settled into their dormitory. Albus let Fawkes out, and the other boys marvelled over him, but they soon retreated into a conversation about Quidditch to which he and Simon could not contribute. Simon and Albus decided to pick beds next to each other – despite the astronomical differences between them, and the fact that Albus had played in back alleys where Simon had played in fields, neither knew many sports past cricket. They talked about less magical things.

"I'm terribly nervous about lessons," Simon said. "But a prefect said that most magical children our age don't know any magic at all."

"I'm nervous too," Albus said, then blushed. He might as well say it – keeping it a secret was making him feel lonely. "I – I'm not very good at reading."

Simon looked a little shocked, but then he swallowed and smiled. "I'll help you – if you like. And besides, I think a lot of magic will be more about saying words than reading or writing them."

"Thanks," Albus said, feeling relieved for more than one reason. "What have we got tomorrow?"

Simon examined the timetable. "Double Transfiguration, and Double Herbology," he said.

Albus grimaced. "Sounds hard."

"I know – oh, I'd better write to Mater." He scrambled for a pen and paper.

"Who?"

"Mother. She's been worried sick – she didn't like the look of those dragons."

Albus gave him a wistful look. "Neither did my Mama."

Simon hesitated over the paper, plainly struggling over what to say.

"Do you – do you want to borrow some paper?"

Albus thought – and then nodded. He watched Simon write beautifully, with all twists and curls. He turned to his piece of paper, and took out his quill. Compared to Simon's long letter, which no doubt would tell his mama every detail, Albus's might be rather lacking. But Mama had never got a letter from him before, so he resolved to write one.

'Dear mama,

how do you do. I am wel. forks is happy and I maid a frend.

lots of love,

Allie xxxx'

It was splotchy and in uneven print, but he'd never written a letter before. He missed Mama already, he realised, even though meeting Simon and helpful prefects had taken out the sting of being alone. How would she be doing without him? He sighed, deeply.

Simon put down his letter. "I don't even know how to post this. Brother Anthony said that wizards send owls to people, but I don't have an owl."

"The school does," said a boy who was playing cards with a couple of the others, looking up at them. "Ask the prefects – they can take you to the tower."

"Oh – thanks Will," Simon replied. "We'll go tomorrow, I suppose."

Albus thought of what Mama's face might look like when she got the letter. He smiled.

In the morning, they ate a good breakfast and went to their first lesson – Transfiguration. Gryffindor had this lesson with Hufflepuff – Serendipity gave Albus and Simon a wave. The teacher was Professor Hills, who was a rather eccentric woman with curly blonde hair drawn back into a pony tail, and a purple robe with long trailing sleeves. She stood at the front of the class, and drew her arms wide.

"Transfiguration – a rather exciting brand of magic," she said. "Very useful to the wizard in an emergency, and, of course, very fun. Wands at the ready, everyone! Mr. Prewett – please come here."

A rather gangly boy who was tall for his age stepped forward from amongst the Hufflepuffs.

"Do you have a pet?" Professor Hills asked him.

He nodded, and reached into his pocket, only to pull out a guinea pig. There were some laughs and a few squeals from the class.

"Do you trust me, Mr. Prewett?" she said, rather ominously.

"Ye-es…" the boy said slowly.

Professor Hills took the guinea pig, and placed it on her desk. "What's her name?"

"Victoria, Professor."

Professor Hills nodded approvingly. "Very patriotic. Are you sure you trust me?"

Prewett didn't look at all sure. "I – yes, Professor."

She removed her wand, and in a smooth motion, flicked it over the guinea pig. "Mutarapane!"

In place of the animal was a small, guinea pig-shaped loaf of bread. Professor Hills picked it up. Prewett looked panicky.

"Are you hungry, Mr. Prewett?" she asked.

"N-no, Professor."

"Do you still trust me?"

"P-please change her back." The boy was literally shaking now. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and put the loaf of bread down. "Restore."

The guinea pig returned. The class burst into spontaneous applause.

"Very well done Mr. Prewett – five house points." Professor Hill smiled. "I hope I've made clear some of the risks involved with Transfiguration. We will not be attempting anything so complex today, but I would request that, for future notice, if you find yourself in any kind of trouble during the lesson, do not plough ahead regardless. This can be a dangerous art – and poor Victoria could have literally ended up as toast. So be careful. Miss Malfoy, if you could distribute these matches to everyone…"

And for the first time, Albus was able to use his wand, this mysterious instrument which had only been an accessory before. It was, to start off with, disappointing. The spell for matchsticks into needles was scarcely the most inspiring thing he could have conceived of – and most people could barely manage any silvering in their matches at all. Albus concentrated hard… He decided to close his eyes, and imagine the match in his hand turning to smooth metal. Clearly now… He said the words. Something began to move beneath his fingers – then it was gone, a momentary tingle.

He opened his eyes. The matchstick looked more like a matchstick than ever before. He glared at it, willing it to change… imagining even as he said the words, the transition.

He dropped it in shock, and heard the tickle as it landed. Professor Hills turned around, and stared at the desk. She picked up the silvery thing – the needle – and examined it.

"Attention class," she said excitedly. "I think we have our first success! Mr…"

"Dumbledore," Albus supplied. Her eyebrows quirked. "Mr. Dumbledore – to see that you are not playing tricks on me…" She reached for his wand.

"Priori Incantatem."

A ghost of a needle shot of Albus's wand. Professor Hills smiled. "An unusual talent, Mr. Dumbledore. Five points to Gryffindor. Now…" She put the wand and the needle back on his desk. "See if you can change it back."

For a moment, the class were silent – you could hear a pin drop, Albus mused – so he raised his wand. "Restore."

A weird greyish hybrid lay before him. Professor Hills picked it up. "And that is why you should be careful when changing things back," she said. "A very good first attempt – back to work, everyone."

Albus left the lesson with the warm glow of one who has suddenly discovered he is good at something. Poor Simon, on the other hand, hadn't made much of a change at all, so he tried to keep his celebration private. And yet the feeling of relief was immense. Over lunch, some of the others asked him if he'd done it before, and stared incredulously at him when he said no! Afterwards, he asked a prefect where the owlery was and went to send his and Simon's letters. It shouldn't have taken that long – but on the way back he met someone who provided a bit of a hindrance.

The person – if he could be called a person, burst out from a wall, and grabbed his nose. "GOT YER CONK!" he shrieked, in a dreadful voice. Albus stumbled back. "Wh-who are you?"

"Didn't they tell you about me?" taunted the apparition. "I'm the one who haunts your every nightmare!"

Albus began to feel a little bolder. "What – every nightmare?"

The ghost gave him a look.

"I've got to go to Herbology," Albus said.

"It's that way," said the ghost, pointing right.

"No it's not," Albus said, frowning. "It's straight on."

"You're not coming this way," said the ghost, sulkily, and stood by the entrance way, arms akimbo.

Albus bit his lip. Surely he could walk straight through? He stalked forward, but no sooner had he met with the ghost's chilly body than a great wind had blown him back. He stumbled. The ghost had a smug expression. "It's that way," the ghost said. Albus shrugged – you couldn't beat this bully with fists, and so, defeated, he went the way the ghost was pointing.

He made it to Herbology late – by about ten minutes. The teacher, a very tall man with a long nose, gave him a terrible glare.

"I'm sorry sir – there was a ghost…"

His eyes met Simon's – he was already seated, and gave Albus a helpless but sympathetic expression.

The teacher scowled at him. "This is not tolerable. Ten points from Gryffindor."

Simon mouthed in shock, "Ten?" Albus's stomach turned over. His first full day and he had already lost more points than he had won.

"Sit, boy," the teacher said, pointing to an empty desk at the front. Albus went to sit down, feeling the eyes of the teacher glaring at him.

The teacher turned to the class. "As I was saying – I expect decorum at all times. You are to address me as Professor Dumbledore."

So did you guys think I'd abandoned this forever? Of course not… just a year… that's normal isn't it? Why are you staring at me like that? Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Thanks to my reviewers.

Asarielle: Please don't kill me :) I know the wait has been just too ridiculous.

Kemenran: Thanks!

AgiVega: I thought you'd appreciate 'Rigel Black' :)

Gina Starr: I hope you liked this chapter :)

Sheyla Potter: Thanks a lot! A good book to read is "What's a Christian to do with Harry Potter?"

Gusha: I'm glad he makes you smile :)

Athena Hermmie: Thanks!

Zyorai: I'm glad you like the dragons, and thanks!

Mockingbirdflyaway: I'm glad you noticed Aberforth… He's not going to be a main character but I'll find a way to get him in, I promise.

Astralytic: Thanks!

Dark Queen of Roses: I'm glad you like the Sorting hat's song. I think it's my favourite out of the ones I've written so far… although I have a slightly different style one prepared for my OotP musical fic.

C-chan: Hiya! I'm glad you like it, thanks very much for the comment.