Chapter 11

Harry leaned back into the cushions of the train seat and sighed. He couldn't believe how calm he felt, or how happy. He'd all but bounded out of bed that morning, glad to be alive and surprisingly, glad to be going back to school.

"We're almost there," Hermione said, checking her watch. "Oh, I can't wait! I've already planned all sorts of things for S.P.E.W!"

Ron groaned. "Don't tell me you're going to start that up again, are you? Honestly, it's a plague!"

"It is not," Hermione snapped, putting things away in her purse. "It is a worthy cause, you know. I mean, so many elves are trapped in a labor system that does them no good."

"You're wasting your time," Ron muttered, wilting under Hermione's glare.

Harry decided not to comment.

"How are you doing, mate?" Ron asked Harry, glancing at him sideways.

"I feel all right," Harry answered, putting his Daily Prophet away in a pocket. "I don't understand it, but I'm not nervous anymore."

"I think it was that breakfast Caedmon had for us," Ron remarked, grinning. "I mean, who eats chocolate cake for breakfast? Mum would've had a fit!"

Hermione giggled. "Or ice cream and jam tarts!"

Ron's grin grew. "Or even lemon meringue pie!"

Harry grinned in response. When they'd reached the kitchen for breakfast that morning, they'd found a feast of sweets of all kinds. Hermione remarked that it looked like a dessert bar she'd seen in a Muggle restaurant. They'd stuffed themselves silly before heading out to King's Cross, and Caedmon wished them all luck as they got on the train, reserving a hug for Harry.

"Take care of yourself, would you? And write? Everyone will want to hear about you," he said very quietly in Harry's ear. "Grandmother especially."

"I will," Harry had promised just as he hopped on the train. "I'll see you soon, Caedmon."

The train slowed, jerking Harry out of his thoughts. Only when he'd left Caedmon did he realize how much he liked the guy.

"Firs' years!" they heard Hagrid boom. "Firs' years, this way!"

"Hi, Hagrid!" all three of them shouted, getting the big man's attention.

"Hey, you three," Hagrid said, waving them on toward the coaches. "Great ter see yer!"

Harry shivered as they drew closer to the carriages that were pulled by thestrals. When he first spotted them at the beginning of his fifth year, he'd been shocked, but now, it wasn't so bad. Even so, he still had to fight down shivers as he got close to one. One turned, looked at him knowingly, and whuffed in his ear, making him jump.

Harry scrambled into the carriage behind Ron and Hermione, and once he saw the castle come into view up ahead, he smiled. Again, there was that feeling of coming home.

Everyone headed inside, ducking Peeves and his latest arsenal: rotten eggs.

"Yes!" Ron cried, glee overcoming him. "Look who he hit! Malfoy and his gorillas!"

Harry felt laughter begin in his stomach and work its way up into his chest, through his throat, and out of his mouth. Hermione was giggling like a creature possessed. Ron draped his arm around Harry and laughed out loud, his "HA HA HA HA!" echoing off the walls.

They entered the Great Hall, took their seats, and Professor McGonagall brought out the stool and the Sorting Hat.

Harry, however, was busy searching the teacher's table for a face he didn't recognize. No, he knew everyone there. Where was this uncle who was supposed to be there?

The Hat suddenly started into his song:

What is a family, and what's a clan?

What's forbidden, and what's banned?

Do we know who we really are?

I know this better than you, by far.

A hat sits on the head where all your secrets lie.

I can see YOU better than any eye.

Without eyes I perceive all that no one will see,

So trust me to tell you where you ought to be!

Yet, as I name new students of the houses four,

I can't help feeling we've been down this path before,

For in danger it is not in alliances that trouble lie,

But in fractions it is how we always die.

But please, don't fear or fret!

We've a whole year of learning to get through yet!

So try me on and trust in me to see,

Just where it is that you are meant to be!

Everyone applauded, congratulating the hat on its song. It bowed, muttered something, and then went still. Just as Professor McGonagall began to call the name of the first years, a side door opened, and a small, skinny man slipped inside, fussing with the sleeve of his robe.

"Ah, Professor, good to see you," Harry heard Professor Dumbledore say. "We were wondering if you were coming."

"Sorry, Professor Dumbledore, I had a little problem in my office," the man said. "Is Harry here?"

By this time, Professor McGonagall was going on with the Sorting while Harry pretended to study the tableware in front of him. So that was his uncle? Hmm.

"Professor Dumbledore just nodded to you," Hermione whispered. "Are you all right, Harry?"

"I'm fine," he whispered back, suddenly feeling anything but.

"Abbot, Jerusha!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Barter, Jeremy!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Borders, Christopher!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Harry wished that the Sorting would go a little faster. After all, he could eat and run upstairs and not have to see this uncle of his until tomorrow morning.

"Delaney, Morris!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry was pleased to see that Morris Delaney did not look happy about having to sit next to Malfoy. Also, he noticed that everyone was giving Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle wide margins.

And so it went, until at last "Zathers, August!" was made a Ravenclaw. The plates filled with food, and everyone dug in.

"Ahh, that's better," Ron remarked once he had put away his last bite of dessert. "I feel like a human."

"I always eat too much at these feasts," Hermione remarked, leaning back from the table. "But everything just looks so good. . ."

"Tell me about it," Harrysaid sleepily. "I'm surprised that I didn't end up as fat as Dudley after my first year here."

"What an image!" Ron croaked, pretending to be sick. "Aw, Harry, I might never get that sight out of my head!"

Harry threw a piece of cookie at him.